Hearing this, Jiang Cheng felt an inexplicable sting in his nose.
He had, in fact, caught fragments of the story online.
They say that for a long while that day, China Central Television kept looping *Boonie Bears*.
Ordinary citizens watched their shows as usual, noticing nothing amiss.
Yet out at sea the waves were already raging, the situation critical.
'When I flew my fighter over that Pretty Country carrier to gather intel, my hands were shaking—honestly. But I didn't pull away. I remembered the line we once saw in the museum back in school: "Only with a country can there be a home."'
'Looking at the hundred-odd fighters on her deck, only one sentence flashed through my mind: "The nation needs me; my family needs me. Wherever a man stands is home; if I die in the sky or at sea, bury me there."'
'Even if I'm buried in the ocean or the sky, shedding my blood for the country is meaningful—something I'm willing to do. Sons of China never retreat; not one inch of China can be lost.'
After that impassioned declaration, the room fell dead silent.
Even the normally proud and stubborn Qiu Yihe slowly lowered her head.
Jiang Jianmin's voice cracked. 'The peace and prosperity we see today were bought with lives stacked like cordwood.'
Qiu Zheng glanced at his maimed right hand, then lifted his head, eyes firm. 'Don't feel sorry for me—I don't regret a thing. The crash wasn't the only one, though it never made the news. The youngest pilot was only twenty-three… his background far more "valuable" than mine, yet he did the same. In the end there's no difference between us; we both fought and bled for the nation.'
Jiang Jianmin shook his head slightly, pain and helplessness on his face, muttering to himself.
'I know I can't out-argue you, and I understand the reasons. But seeing you like this hurts.'
Hearing his old friend, Qiu Zheng smiled gently. 'Old Jiang, don't think that way. I chose this path myself. Surviving at all is already luck. I only feel I've let my parents down—when I wrote my farewell letter, I didn't even have the courage to address it to them…'
At those words, the light in Qiu Zheng's eyes dimmed, as though swallowed by a heavy shadow.
He lowered his head, voice turning hoarse and low.
'You know my folks had five kids; two died young. Of the three of us left, my big brothers were lost on the border. Back then our grades were close—you went to Tsinghua University, I chose China Aviation University.'
He choked up. 'If I could turn time back, I'd tie you up and drag you to Tsinghua, no matter what!'
Jiang Cheng, listening quietly, widened his eyes in surprise.
He hadn't realized his dad had once been a top student.
Of course, with a Beijing household registration, his father had enjoyed better teaching resources, lower cut-off scores, and larger admission quotas than students from Chengdu.
Qiu Zheng replied, 'I'm not like you—you were born for politics. I can't be a decision-maker. If I had to choose again, I'd still pick the same path.'
'When I made that decision, not only you but my parents objected fiercely. When the admission letter arrived, you argued with me so badly you nearly cut me off for good.'
Recalling those painful days, Qiu Zheng's eyes brimmed.
Hearing this, Jiang Jianmin, who had sat silently, finally lost control.
Tears streamed down his face.
'My parents said I was the only son left; they didn't want me taking risks—they needed me to carry on the family line. So I had Xiao He. Now that I'm like this, I feel I've failed them; they still don't know I ever went to war. And I've failed Xiao He—so young, already without her mother and now stuck caring for me…'
Jiang Cheng considered himself a calm man.
Yet hearing this, he couldn't help wiping away a tear.
Qiu Yihe, standing nearby, drank in every word her father said.
She opened her mouth, wanting to comfort him—but no words came.
But though her lips trembled, her throat felt blocked, and the thousand words crowding her mouth simply refused to come out.
Li Yan, like Jiang Cheng, had also noticed Qiu Yihe's awkwardness.
Seeing Qiu Yihe turn to busy herself pouring tea for everyone,
Li Yan quickly said, "Xiao He, don't trouble yourself. Come, good girl, sit down—next to Auntie. When you were little I even held you. Sadly, at only a few months old you left the capital for the City of Devils, and now you've grown so big."
It was the first time Jiang Cheng had heard his mother speak to anyone in such a gentle, kindly tone.
Smiling, she said, "Auntie Li, it's no bother. I happened to be making tea for my dad before you arrived; it's still hot."
Li Yan beamed. "Such a good child—and so pretty. Old Qiu, she really does take after you."
Qiu Zheng gazed at Qiu Yihe, his face full of blissful pride and fatherly affection.
Then he shifted his gaze to Jiang Cheng and studied him carefully.
After a moment he sighed with deep feeling:
"Seeing you is like seeing your father when he was young—so good, so good."
Hearing this, Jiang Jianmin, seated beside him, reached out and patted Qiu Zheng's shoulder.
Qiu Zheng patted Jiang Jianmin back, wordlessly telling him not to worry.
He turned to Li Yan next. "Sister-in-law, you haven't changed a bit all these years."
Tears streamed unchecked down Li Yan's lovely face like snapped strings of pearls.
Though she tried to master her feelings, the flood would not stop.
With shaking hands she drew several snow-white tissues from the box on the table and gently dabbed the corners of her eyes.
Beside her, Qiu Yihe deftly lifted the teapot and began to brew fresh hot tea.
Her practiced movements flowed like drifting clouds and flowing water.
In moments she had steeped several fragrant cups and set them steadily on the coffee table.
Obediently, Qiu Yihe seated herself beside Li Yan.
Yet for no reason, the instant she settled, she instinctively glanced toward Jiang Cheng.
She had never experienced such a scene before.
Right now the indescribable feeling inside her grew stronger, as though she were meeting the parents.
Li Yan took Qiu Yihe's hand. "Good child, how old are you?"
Qiu Yihe smiled. "Auntie, I'm twenty—twenty-one after the New Year."
"Right, right, you're a bit older than Jiang Cheng," Li Yan nodded repeatedly.
Suddenly she frowned, remembering something, and pressed further:
"Oh dear, no—Xiao He, aren't you only twenty-one? Have you graduated already?"
At that, Qiu Yihe's bright smile froze, her expression stiffening.
Clearly she preferred not to discuss the topic.
Out of politeness she forced a smile and answered stiffly, "Yes, Auntie, I've graduated."
Qiu Zheng quickly came to his daughter's rescue:
"After middle school she refused to go to high school. I was rarely home, her grandparents didn't understand, so she secretly applied to a five-year police academy through a 3+2 program and graduated last year."
Hearing this, worry flickered across Li Yan's eyes.
She held Qiu Yihe's hand and cautioned earnestly:
"Now that you're a police officer, you must be extra careful on missions—don't push yourself too hard, understand?"
The words made Qiu Yihe's already stiff face tense even more.
She managed a polite smile and nodded awkwardly. "Thank you for your concern, Auntie."
Watching this, Qiu Zheng's expression turned odd.
He interjected, "No, Sister-in-law, Xiao He isn't a police officer. I had her take the civil-service exam—she works in the tax bureau."
At that, Li Yan and Jiang Cheng couldn't help glancing at Jiang Cheng,
their eyes asking: Isn't this the 'Second-Dog Girl' you were reading about yesterday??
Jiang Cheng's brows lifted in amused surprise as he studied Qiu Yihe with new interest.