The first three months in the recruit camp were by no means easy. Compared to this, the military training she had experienced in school was child's play—far too gentle. However, there were two things that brought Tan Junzi some comfort: first, she could maintain a serious expression at all times without worrying that people would be upset if she didn't smile; and second, she ran into Instructor Liu.
Every student who has gone through middle or high school experiences military training, but not every student ends up enlisting. When Instructor Liu saw Tan Junzi in the recruit camp, he was beyond shocked. He was even more surprised to see that she still walked with her same arm and leg moving together when she did the goose-step. It seemed that a lack of coordination was a lifelong trait that didn't improve with age.
Instructor Liu soon realized that Tan Junzi was no longer the fearless high schooler who had been surrounded by her best friends. In his mind, he described her as a sunflower that seemed to have forgotten how to turn its head toward the sun; she kept her head bowed toward the dirt, her seeds becoming shriveled and dry.
Instructor Liu didn't seek out Tan Junzi, but she took the initiative to find him regarding her assignment. The young woman stated her intentions immediately: she wanted to be stationed at a border outpost. This gave Instructor Liu a start. Most people tried their best to avoid such assignments, yet here she was, volunteering for it.
As Tan Junzi was about to leave, Instructor Liu called out to her, "Do you know why I joined the army? I think I told you before—I enlisted at eighteen."
Tan Junzi nodded. "I remember. But you didn't give a reason back then; you just sent me off to drink mung bean soup."
Instructor Liu smiled. "Well, do you want to hear the reason now?"
To be honest, Tan Junzi didn't really want to hear a story, but she nodded hesitantly anyway.
Seeing her reluctant expression, Instructor Liu sighed. "I don't know what happened to you, and I'm not trying to compare my hardships to yours. I joined because I’ve wanted to shed my blood for my country since I was a kid. Besides, for me at the time, it was the best way out. I didn't have many choices; my family was too poor."
"A lot of people look down on soldiers. They think it's either naughty kids sent by their families to be reformed, or poor kids sent here because of the post-service benefits... How should I put it? Those cases exist, but they aren't the rule. Don't knock it—my high school grades were actually very good. In my little mountain hollow, I could have ranked first in the whole county."
"Some people might feel it's a pity, saying, 'Look, you're academic material, you should have gone to university instead of enlisting.' But if I had to choose again, I’d still join the army. I’m a bit stubborn that way. I don't find military life bitter; on the contrary, it fulfilled a childhood dream. I feel satisfied."
"I’m not good at preaching big philosophies, but I’ve come up with a summary for myself: Recognize reality, stay true to your heart; dwell less on the past, look more to the future. It’s easier to be happy that way."
Tan Junzi asked, "Dwell less on the past, look more to the future—did you come up with that?"
Instructor Liu paused. "...No, a teacher said it during the last political study session. But I came up with the first half: Recognize reality, stay true to your heart. Not bad, right? Hey, it doesn't matter who said it. Anyway, I’m giving the whole phrase to you."
Tan Junzi nodded. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Instructor Liu replied.
*
In Meng County, the town closest to the border checkpoint between Yunnan and Myanmar, Tan Junzi went to mail letters every month. She had left in such a hurry that while on the train, she had rummaged through her luggage only to find a copy of *Boys and Girls* she had bought years ago. She had found the magazine in an outer pocket of her backpack. It took her a long time to remember that after reading it back then, she had casually left it on a windowsill to gather dust. Later, after her grandfather passed away and she was cleaning the house, she had tucked the magazine into her bag on a whim.
Consequently, over the next few years, she flipped through that book almost constantly. She took it to the bathroom, read it before bed, and even memorized the shady little advertisements on the inside cover: *Lonely at night? Seductive evenings. For details, please call 618X-XXXX. Beautiful mature sisters and pure young wives are here to ease your worries.* She even gave these women names: Xiao Fang, Xiao Li, Xiao Hong... She thought Xiao Li was the prettiest. If she absolutely had to call, she would have called Xiao Li.
She also memorized the personality test. Looking at Type C now: *These individuals are keen on hiding their fears and sensitivities. They place great importance on family, which may stem from a sense of insecurity caused by a lack of paternal or maternal love. They are deeply insecure at their core, yet at the same time, they are uncompromising idealists... The type of man they attract is the refined, "loyal dog" type with a contradictory personality and an overprotective nature.*
Was she an idealist? Probably.
A ponytail had to be tied exactly at the top back quarter of the head, and the hair tie had to be wrapped three times.
A roll of tape could be wound endlessly until it was larger than any of her classmates'; when winding it, the edges had to be perfectly aligned and pulled tight.
Getting up at six every morning to go to the park to practice Tai Chi or square dancing. Strengthening the body, preserving health. The moment she felt slightly unwell, she would start overthinking; she couldn't accept even the slightest flaw in herself.
...
Not only that, but she also possessed an overcorrected sense of responsibility toward those she cared about. Her social circle wasn't large, and there weren't many people she cared for, but she wanted her cherished family and friends to be perfectly fine. If someone was even slightly down, she wanted them to get better immediately, to cheer up. Previously, she hadn't seen anything wrong with this, but now she felt she was being far too rigid—like walking on a tightrope, tethering her entire path to a single, narrow line.
But in truth, how could there be a life of smooth sailing with no worries? Most of our lives are like this: not particularly bitter, but not particularly sweet either. Believing in fate when good things happen and believing in yourself when bad things happen makes one much more optimistic.
*
The post office Tan Junzi frequented was barely the size of a palm. She liked coming here because the public security was slightly better. The government was constantly cracking down on organized crime, but Meng County was home to numerous gangs and factions operating in the shadows. There were underground casinos, underground boxing rings, drug trafficking... a real mixed bag. She wasn't afraid of trouble, but when she was alone, she didn't want to go looking for it.
She came to this post office every month to mail letters, but not to Chang Ying. They were for an author she had seen in *Boys and Girls*.
Back then, she never read the "Author's Replies" column; she always thought the magazine staff made them up, a self-directed performance. So, she wanted to see if she could actually get an author to "pick her" by writing letters persistently.
The short story *Shichahai* had left her in a fog of confusion with many questions. Thus, she insisted on writing to the magazine every month, addressed to the author of that piece.
The content of every letter was the same:
***
Hello, Po Ximi,
I am a female soldier stationed at a border post in Yunnan. I read your story "Shichahai" in *Boys and Girls* magazine, and I have some thoughts and questions regarding the piece.
Blah blah blah...
Finally, a few small questions:
Is the male lead actually a reincarnation?
Is the uncle’s feeling for the female lead actually love?
Will there be a side story?
I hope you can see this in your busy schedule. If I’m lucky, I look forward to your reply!
I might not be able to receive your reply at this address (since I’m in the military), so I’ve attached my home address below. If possible, I hope you can reply to my home address. Thank you!
Tan Junzi
***
That day, as she was writing the zip code on the envelope, a young man wearing a black hoodie walked in, his hood covering most of his face. The post office was small, but the man still stood a significant distance away from Tan Junzi. There was someone behind him whom he shielded firmly, like an eagle protecting a chick. Tan Junzi couldn't even tell if the person behind him was male or female.
After mailing her letter, Tan Junzi took her newly purchased stationery and walked out. After walking about ten meters, a sudden sense of strangeness flickered in her heart. She turned back to look and saw the man and his companion leaving the post office after finishing their business, heading in the opposite direction. She looked at the silhouette of the person beside the man and felt a sense of familiarity, though she couldn't recall where she had seen them. While she was pondering, a comrade called her name from a distance. She turned her head and walked toward her fellow soldier.
*
When Che Qian was sent to Meng County as an undercover officer, he was just a young policeman in his early twenties. He was chosen because his age was appropriate and because he looked quite fierce. He had a scar between his eyebrows, made by a bamboo dragonfly toy when he was a child. When people asked him about it as an adult, he claimed he had been honorably wounded in a one-against-five fight.
Che Qian was decent-looking, though not of the "thick brows and big eyes" variety. If not for that scar, he could have been a delicate-looking young man, the type to appear on the police department's official website homepage. With the scar, he was sent to be a lackey at an underground boxing ring, fighting for a mob boss while keeping watch.
Coincidentally, the code name the organization gave him was "Cheqiancao" (Plantain). The higher-ups hoped he would be like a roadside weed—unobtrusive yet present everywhere, permeating every crack.
He had planned it well: use his skills to fight his way up step by step. With more wins, he would gain favor and naturally rise in the gang's hierarchy. If all went well, the net would be cast in two or three years, and he would return to the force with a second-class merit. He had planned everything—except for finding a young girl in a patch of weeds by the train tracks.
He had been crouching behind a tree to smoke when he discovered someone in the waist-high weeds.
Did this girl jump off a train? He flipped her over; she was alive but unconscious. When he felt the back of her head, her hair and blood were matted together. She had likely hit a roadside rock when she jumped. It wasn't life-threatening, but he didn't know how many days she had been lying there.
He couldn't just leave her to die, but he found it incredibly troublesome. Given his identity, he couldn't drag a young girl around with him. Forget it—he’d take her home first and send her away once she woke up.
And so, his cramped basement apartment gained a child.
He used a curtain to divide the room into two. The child stayed in the inner section while he set up another bed in the outer section. Wasn't he just looking for trouble? But there was no choice; he had to serve the people. He was a policeman, after all.
Before the child woke up, he gave her a name: Xiao Hua (Little Flower), because she had been unconscious in the weeds, right on top of a flattened morning glory.
Xiao Hua didn't wake up until a week later. When she did, she remembered nothing. He said, "Xiao Hua, you're awake?"
Her first words were, "Oh, so that's my name."
Che Qian said, "No, that's just what I called you. What's your real name? Where do you live?"
Xiao Hua said, "Isn't my name Xiao Hua? You said so."
...
Losing one's memory was both good and bad. The good part was that Xiao Hua was like a baby duckling imprinted on him; she listened to everything he said and was exceptionally well-behaved. The bad part was that she seemed to have settled into his home for good.
Given his identity, he couldn't personally take Xiao Hua to the police station. So, he would stand by the road and tell her to walk in and report her case herself. Every time, Xiao Hua would just follow him with teary eyes, never leaving his side. It was as if sending her into the police station was the same as abandoning her. He was helpless.
Because there was a girl in the house, he was even forced to quit smoking. This didn't fit his persona as an underground boxing lackey, so he would finish smoking outside before entering the house.
He tried his best to keep the gang from knowing about Xiao Hua's existence. If she absolutely had to go out, he wanted to wrap her up from head to toe.
Eventually, however, the boss found out. He claimed she was his sister. To his surprise, once the boss knew he had a "sister," he began to trust him more. Later, Che Qian realized that his previous persona had made the boss uneasy; now that he had a sister, he had a weakness, which ironically made him more reliable.
Fighting in the underground ring was not easy. Even though he was professionally trained, he would return home covered in injuries after every match. For every fight, he made Xiao Hua sit beneath the platform where he could see her; only then could he feel at ease.
Once, as he was leading Xiao Hua home covered in wounds, she suddenly said, "Your left and right sides aren't coordinated. When they throw a straight punch at your right side, your reaction is always half a beat slow." He realized then that this girl might be more than she seemed.
He didn't believe her, so back in the basement, with a "let's see what happens" attitude, he asked her to "demonstrate." The girl immediately performed a set of fluid, powerful martial arts moves. He didn't know the style, but it certainly wasn't what they taught at the police academy.
Not only that, he discovered she could do all sorts of somersaults. She could do several backflips in a row; if the basement hadn't been so small, he suspected Xiao Hua could have flipped all the way to Beijing.
It seemed her brain had lost its memory, but her body had not. He actually tried to help her recover her memories, but every time, they got stuck on the first question: "What is your name?" As soon as he asked, Xiao Hua would clutch her head, and the questioning could go no further.
This life continued for about six years. Yes, six years. He had originally thought this undercover assignment would last a year or so, but the waters in Meng County were deep, and the organization ordered him to stay embedded.
Then one day, the two of them were huddled on a moldy, broken sofa watching TV. He was aimlessly pressing buttons on the remote when he flipped to a news channel. The host said:
"Qian... Qianniu..."
He was about to change the channel, but the CCTV host's stutter was a bit funny, so he kept listening to see if they would trip up again.
The news clip was only ten seconds long: *The Morning Glory (Qianniu) Martial Arts Team has won first place in X Province and will represent the province in the National Martial Arts Competition...*
After the news finished, Xiao Hua's eyes widened. She pointed at the TV and said, "I remember. My name is Qianniu."
And then, everything came back to her.
In the end, Qianniu didn't leave. She knew everything about Che Qian. She said, "I'll stay with you until your mission is over. Besides, I'm not useless. If I'm here, the gang leader will trust you. Consider it my way of repaying you for saving my life."
*
At the end of Tan Junzi's fourth year in the army, she dreamed that Chang Ying was crying. It was just like that night of sobbing by the river.
In the dream, Chang Ying was still a youth, and he cried like a boy, not like the wolf he was in bed. So Tan Junzi walked over and hugged him. Then she opened her hand to reveal a piece of candy. In the dream, she said to him, "I'm sorry." The dream-version of Chang Ying was so easily swayed; he saw the candy and smiled like a fool.
When she woke up, the moon was still in the sky. She looked at the moon, her heart aching for a long, long time. Then she realized that it might be time to go home.
What she didn't know that night was that Chang Ying was also looking up at the moon. The fishing rod was in his heart, and the bobber was in her hand. Though he remained in place, his heart had followed Junzi ten thousand miles away.
*
The border post was quite basic, but they still held a farewell party for the soldiers who were being discharged.
Relying on her memory, Tan Junzi performed a set of martial arts for everyone—the set she had learned at the martial arts school. Since there were no speakers, she sang "Who is the Hero" while she performed.
After finishing, she bowed to everyone and said with tears in her eyes, "I came to enlist because a young girl once told me: the greatest chivalry is to serve the country and the people. I am leaving now because I’ve realized one thing: there is much we can do, and it isn't just about regret and guilt. Dwell less on the past, look more to the future. Do your best, and don't ask about success or failure."
Although the people below didn't quite follow her logic, they all applauded because the four-character idioms she used at the end sounded very sophisticated and high-class.
She didn't mention that "dwell less on the past, look more to the future" wasn't her own thought. She let everyone believe she was very literary; this was likely one of her few "highlight moments" since her high school graduation essay, and she wanted to indulge in a bit of vanity.
***
