The charm of a person has always been elusive. You often see a man built like a water vat walking with a long-legged woman—her strides so wide that other men could pass under her hips without stooping. Onlookers wonder, what does she see in him? Young folks joke about his prowess in bed, middle-aged folks credit wisdom and responsibility, while the elderly praise his good character. These are all guesses, as everyone has different sensitivities when it comes to love. What Li Qingcheng admired about Liu Zhengliang was his intelligence without arrogance. An arrogant man can’t tolerate dissent; his word is law, but even if others break their skulls trying, they can’t pry open his heart. Such a man is not worth following.
Li Qingcheng felt she wanted to compete for Liu Zhengliang. She had all the qualities—long legs, a slim waist, good looks, and a sharp mind. Her job was respectable, and she gave off a gentle impression to strangers. As for whether she was a slob at home, that didn’t matter; such flaws only surface after marriage, and is it necessary to nitpick issues that emerge then? How many women are refined and polite before marriage, only to turn into roaring tigresses within a year? Perhaps life carves out one’s true self. Chen Junnan had once asked Che Mingming the same question, and Che Mingming’s reply was spot-on: "Once the fish is caught, why bother with bait?"
Chapter 18
In 2019, Fushun’s winter was as bitterly cold as ever. Though not at a high latitude, its location in the foothills of the Changbai Mountains brought temperatures plunging to -30 or -40 degrees Celsius, making everyone yearn for a mink coat to bundle up in. The women of Fushun loved buying minks—why? Because houses and cars were cheap, and flaunting a thick gold chain in winter only got you noticed in bathhouses. A mink was different; wherever you went, it drew envious glances.
This was a place with a touch of extravagance but also a streak of honesty—too meek, and you’d be bullied; too flashy, and you’d be taken down a peg.
As the Spring Festival approached, Chen Junnan took a high-speed train from Beijing to Shanghai to meet a supplier. After discussions in Shanghai, he dragged the supplier to a subcontracting factory in Hefei to inspect the assembly process for components. The LED parts from Shanghai were suffering high damage rates during assembly, mainly due to the outer screen’s hardness. He wanted the supplier to brainstorm solutions while also checking if the Hefei factory workers were mishandling the parts.
But just as the train reached Nanjing, the conductor announced that due to traffic control, the final stop in Wuhan would not allow transfers. Passengers needing connections were advised to disembark at Hefei and find alternate transport.
Early that year, Chen Junnan had noticed news about pneumonia in Wuhan, but he’d been too busy to follow it closely. When the train arrived in Hefei, everyone vacated their seats and got off, leaving the train completely empty as it pulled out of the station.
This was during the Spring Festival travel rush—such a scene was unheard of.
That evening, Chen Junnan saw Zhong Nanshan’s interview on hotel TV: novel coronavirus pneumonia was confirmed to spread between people, and Wuhan was going into lockdown. He immediately texted Liu Zhengliang: "Something big has happened."
Chen Junnan asked Liu Zhengliang, "Should we go to Wuhan?"
Liu Zhengliang shot back, "Are you going?"Chen Junnan called directly and said, "Of course I have to go. What am I pursuing? I'm pursuing making some noise. This is such a big event, enough for me to boast about for the rest of my life. Even if I have to ride a bicycle from Hefei, I'd still go."
Chen Junnan only sent Che Mingming a message without calling. Che Mingming held her phone and cried until she was drenched in tears. The tragedy of this situation lies in knowing the war will be won, but not knowing in what form you'll attend the victory banquet—as a living person or a black-and-white photograph.
While Chen Junnan received the news, Liu Zhengliang was at home preparing the New Year's Eve dinner.
Soon after, a message appeared in the hospital's WeChat work group, calling for volunteers to support Wuhan. People from Liaoning often refer to themselves as the eldest son of the republic. Even though this eldest son might not be doing as well as his younger siblings nowadays, when parents are in trouble, he's willing to give everything he has. The province needed to mobilize over 1,700 doctors to take over hospitals, but where could they find so many respiratory specialists? So they opened registration to senior, experienced doctors from all departments.
Liu Zhengliang's grandfather asked him to invite Ai Chen over, but Liu Zhengliang's mother disagreed. After finishing his meal, Liu Zhengliang didn't watch the Spring Festival Gala and returned to the hospital for night duty. Though it was New Year's Eve, the entire hospital was brightly lit, with the entire leadership team holding a meeting in the large conference room. In the hospital lobby, Zhang Dexu and Dou Liping were watching TV, and Zhang Jiao could now walk out to watch television too. A PLA officer on screen declared, "Faced with the epidemic, the people's army will never retreat."
Liu Zhengliang said to Zhang Dexu, "Take your child and check out tomorrow morning. I think she's recovered quite well."
Unknowingly, this family had been living in the hospital for over a year. While the wound had long healed, rehabilitation training had continued within the hospital. Zhang Dexu and Dou Liping took turns helping their daughter walk from the inpatient building downstairs to the courtyard, then to the outpatient building up to the third floor, and back to the inpatient building—repeating this routine every morning. This couple had their petty, worldly side, but also their chivalrous spirit. What does it mean to not be petty? It's just hiding greed more deeply. Steal a hook and you're executed; steal a kingdom and you become a prince. Ordinary folks only have these few possessions, and everyone's eyes are fixed on them, so their manner can't be graceful. Like barnacles on a whale, parasitic and causing pain and itch—they too dream of traveling the world with a sword to see its splendor. But while you might not know if tomorrow will be sunny or rainy, you must know if you have money in your pocket. This bit of ambition in people is slowly worn away by money.
How can you tell a person's vitality? It's when blow after blow strikes you, making you cry out in pain, yet you recover and keep moving forward. Having survived the hardest times, why fear the uncertain road ahead?
What Zhang Dexu gained from Liu Zhengliang wasn't just his daughter's rebirth, but the realization that money isn't always so powerful. Liu Zhengliang's grandfather said, "Where there are people, there is home. Without people, even living in the Forbidden City wouldn't make it a home."
Zhang Dexu asked, "Are you all going to support Wuhan too?"
Liu Zhengliang nodded: "Too many people are being mobilized. There aren't enough respiratory doctors."
Zhang Dexu asked again, "Are you definitely going?"
Liu Zhengliang nodded once more.Zhang Dexu removed the jet bracelet from his wrist. He had once claimed it was a family heirloom given to his grandfather by Yang Jingyu. Liu Zhengliang was skeptical—how much truth could come from someone so prone to exaggeration?
"This bracelet truly was given to our family by Yang Jingyu," Zhang Dexu said. "I might boast about other things, but not this. I'm not giving it to you—I'm lending it. You must return it after the battle. It carries the protective aura of a hero. We don't believe in ghosts, gods, or religion, but we must believe in our ancestors and heroes." With that, he fastened the gleaming black jet bracelet around Liu Zhengliang's wrist.
No one cared about the Spring Festival Gala anymore. Even throughout the entire city, the sound of firecrackers was nearly absent. How stubborn this city was! Even during the first Spring Festival after the Battle of Sarhu, when Nurhaci was camped just fifteen kilometers away, poised for battle, the people of Fushun had set off firecrackers to celebrate New Year's Eve. This year, all had fallen silent. The people of Fushun had seen their share of crises—they had lived through the pneumonic plague of 1910, when the tradition of cremating the dead began. But that was caused by bacteria; this time, it was a virus. The enemy was smaller and more formidable.
Liu Zhengliang opened Wang Hao's social media feed. Wang Hao's post consisted of just one sentence: "We're here." The location tag showed Wuhan Tianhe Airport. Liu Zhengliang hadn't dared to send Wang Hao a single text or greeting in two years. He didn't know what to say to his former mentor. Should he say he was doing well in the emergency department? Or that although he had left academia, his cardiopulmonary resuscitation skills had improved? Wang Hao had once seen great potential in him, patting him on the shoulder and saying, "Keep working hard, young man. A position as head of a major department will surely be yours."
After much thought, though he hadn't yet volunteered to the hospital leadership, Liu Zhengliang's first declaration was to Wang Hao.
"Teacher Wang Hao, see you in Wuhan."
At that moment, Wang Hao was busy orienting his team, supervising the establishment of quarantine zones in the hospital, and instructing every member where they could remove protective gear, which areas were one-way only, and which doors must be closed before supplies could be passed through. He had no time to check his phone, which couldn't be carried inside his protective suit, and thus didn't reply.
Liu Zhengliang's words were like a challenge. How he wanted Wang Hao to feel regret! Yet this teacher had been so sincere and full of hope for him—it was Liu Zhengliang who had left him disheartened. So he couldn't wield a knife to stab him now.
Liu Zhengliang then sent a message to Ai Chen: "I've signed up for Wuhan."
Upon reading this, Ai Chen immediately drove to the hospital, rushed to the emergency department to find Liu Zhengliang, and blurted out, "Why are you charging ahead? You're not from the infectious diseases department, nor the respiratory department. You're just a contract worker without even a permanent position—why are you acting like a hero?" As she spoke, she began to cry.
Liu Zhengliang replied, "You don't understand. This is my profession. I can't hide from it."
Ai Chen asked, "How long will you be gone?"
Liu Zhengliang answered, "I don't know."
Ai Chen pressed, "Is it very dangerous?"
Liu Zhengliang replied, "I don't know."Ai Chen looked so beautiful when she cried. Liu Zhengliang pulled her into his embrace. Hadn't he always wanted a heart-wrenching romance? Well, here it was. This was the moment for kisses and embraces—no force in heaven or earth could restrain the passionate emotions of young lovers. With the battlefield awaiting them and the prospect of being separated by mountains and rivers, failing to elevate their feelings now would be a disservice to themselves. This bookworm Liu Zhengliang seemed to have finally awakened to romance. The kind of passion depicted in the classic film "Wedding at the Execution Ground" couldn't possibly surpass this.
Another notification arrived in the hospital work group: assemble and depart for Wuhan on the morning of the second day of Lunar New Year.
On New Year's Day, Liu Zhengliang returned home in the morning after his night shift. As he was leaving, he encountered the family of three—Zhang Dexu, Dou Liping, and Zhang Jiao—who were preparing to be discharged. Zhang Jiao could already walk normally, though her steps remained unsteady when navigating stairs, especially when her heels touched the ground. This was considered good recovery progress. The child's future would inevitably be challenging—she might never showcase graceful dance moves, her movements might always carry a slight stiffness, and her speech might resemble an old tape recorder running out of battery power. But so what? Humans are born to face hardships. What matters most is to persevere and live on.
OpenNovel