Chapter 2841 The Matchmaking

"So it's you..." Tan Shuangxi greeted Yang Zhaodi across the table, his voice carrying the awkwardness of stumbling upon a private secret. Their conversation on the streets of East Gate Market just a month ago remained fresh in both their minds.

"I didn't expect this either. Fourth Aunt never told me." Yang Zhaodi's head was bowed so low it nearly touched the table, her hands nervously tugging at her braids. Embarrassment saturated every word.

She had come to meet a man who might become her future husband while carrying an unspeakable secret—and that man happened to know it already. What could be more mortifying for a young woman?

Tan Shuangxi studied her. Yang Zhaodi had clearly taken care with her appearance today. Gone was the indigo work uniform; in its place, a blue dress with white floral patterns. This Song-style women's fashion had already become popular in Lingao. But Yang Zhaodi's tall figure was uncommon among local women, lending her a distinctive grace. The deep blue fabric—a shade he had never seen before—set off her complexion, fairer than most local girls. Her thick black hair was combed into a single plait, a red ribbon tied at its end swaying with her movements, drawing his gaze to follow of its own accord.

The matchmaker, Fourth Aunt, smiled and said, "Since you two already know each other, I don't need to make introductions. Chat for a while first." She made some excuse and slipped away from the table.

Noon was still some time off. The modest teahouse sat nearly empty. To break the awkward silence, Tan Shuangxi picked up the teapot and poured Yang Zhaodi a cup of tea, explaining, "My leave just started today. I was originally heading home, but the battalion headquarters was kind enough to arrange this matchmaking. When I said I wasn't local, I truly had no idea it would be you."

Without outsiders present, Yang Zhaodi's expression softened somewhat. She picked up the teacup and took a sip, still not daring to meet his gaze. Head bowed, eyes fixed on the cup cradled in her hands, she said, "The steel mill is transferring some workers to Foshan—my mother among them. She wants me to find a match before she leaves. Preferably married. That way she can rest easy."

"Your mother does mean well. But didn't you tell her about Brother Li?" Tan Shuangxi figured that with no outsiders around, it was better to clear things up directly rather than waste time dancing around the issue.

"I told her. She refused." Yang Zhaodi's eyes gradually reddened as she spoke. "She said after Brother Li was wounded, who knows if he can still do heavy work. And he's alone here—no family. Marrying him would mean immediately taking care of a cripple." Her voice tightened. "When I refused the matchmaking, she hit me. Said I was being disobedient..." A teardrop escaped her eyes and fell, darkening the fabric at her chest. Something stirred in Tan Shuangxi's heart—like raindrops striking still water, sending unfamiliar ripples spreading outward.

"The Senate advocates freedom in love and marriage. No one—not even parents—may interfere." Tan Shuangxi spoke with conviction, then realized his voice had grown too loud and quickly lowered it. "Don't worry about this. The Senate can advocate for you."

Hearing this, Yang Zhaodi felt even more aggrieved. Tears fell like beads from a broken string. "The Senate?" she choked out. "The Senate can't manage such small matters! When my mother hits me, the paijia just comes to offer a few words, tells me to be obedient, says she means well for me."

"This is... this is..." Tan Shuangxi floundered. The Senators were each consumed by affairs of state—how could they possibly attend to such trivial domestic matters?

Seeing Yang Zhaodi's tear-streaked face, lovely as a pear blossom in spring rain, with restaurant staff casting curious glances their way, Tan Shuangxi grew restless. His right hand reached instinctively for the towel usually hooked to his satchel strap, but grasped only air—he was in civilian clothes today, without any of his usual belongings. Just as he floundered, a bamboo clip holding a steaming white towel appeared before him. He looked up to see the restaurant worker watching with knowing eyes. Sharp fellow, Tan Shuangxi thought. He thanked him quickly and passed the towel over.

Yang Zhaodi accepted it and wiped her eyes, pressing the cloth to her face to compose herself. At last she raised her head and managed a smile through her tears. Tan Shuangxi felt as though a Minié ball had struck his chest—for a moment, he could not breathe.

"How about I help speak with your mother? Or if you and Brother Li are truly together, you could write to the General Staff Political Department to appeal. The military will definitely handle it. Senate policy is freedom in love and marriage—no one can violate that. Whoever you choose to love is up to you. Your mother has no right to interfere." He offered his suggestions carefully.

Yang Zhaodi gave a bitter smile. Grief and bitterness lingered at the corners of her eyes. "It's not about my mother anymore. A few days ago, one of Brother Li's comrades wrote me a letter. He's gotten together with a nurse at the hospital." Her voice caught. "I was beaten for nothing."

This unexpected turn surprised Tan Shuangxi as well. Sympathy welled up within him—along with a trace of secret joy he could not quite suppress. His gaze followed her tears as they slipped from her cheeks onto her chest, dampening a patch of fabric. The sight stirred something restless in him.

"You're watching me make a fool of myself." Yang Zhaodi wiped her tears with a bitter smile. "Mother says if she doesn't see me with a man, she won't let me come home. So I've been staying in the farm dormitory instead. Then she came to the farm to lecture me and even won over Fourth Aunt. Every day, another matchmaking introduction." Her voice grew flat, weary. "I have no interest at all. I really don't want to marry so early." Defeat hung about her like a shroud.

Tan Shuangxi had been rather eager to express that he was available too, but that enthusiasm deflated at once. She had just been crying so bitterly over Brother Li, and now she had shifted to not wanting to marry at all. Women's hearts truly were like needles at the bottom of the sea.

"I'm currently studying for my Class-B diploma and also taking evening accounting classes." Yang Zhaodi hesitated, then raised her head to look directly at Tan Shuangxi—her first time meeting his eyes all day. "I think I can pass. Really. Ever since I started working at the farm and attending night school, I've realized there are so many things in the world more interesting than getting married. Like when the farm plants new crops—they take soil to the laboratory for testing, and then the lab tells us what fertilizer to add. Sometimes you need lime too, but everything grows well. Isn't that strange?" Her voice quickened with enthusiasm. "And soil is divided into acidic and alkaline. I secretly tasted some, but I couldn't taste any sourness. Director Wu found out and laughed so hard..."

As she spoke, a light flickered to life in her eyes.

"With a Class-B diploma, plus an accounting certificate, finding work is easy. I heard from the farm clerk that with both qualifications, it's not hard to find bookkeeping work at any factory or large shop. The income would be much better than now. And far less exhausting. I've seen the accounting books my mother keeps—they're simpler than what we learn in class."

She grew more animated as she continued. "If I stay at the farm, management says that with this certificate, I could transfer to the Finance Office or Administration. No more fieldwork every day. I'd be a 'cadre.' And if I'm willing to transfer to farms in other counties, I could even get promoted quickly!"

Her eyes shone as she spoke, full of longing. Once away from the topic of romance, Yang Zhaodi became talkative, chattering about interesting stories from the farm and night school like a child on their first journey far from home. Tan Shuangxi watched her excited expression and felt genuinely happy for her. Life was not only about Brother Li—there was a broader world waiting.

"...Shuangxi-ge, what diploma did you get? It must be Class-A, right?"

"Me? I haven't even passed Class-B yet!" Tan Shuangxi shook his head ruefully. "This leave, I'm planning to study hard and finally get the diploma. Then I can become a candidate officer."

"What's a candidate officer?" Yang Zhaodi asked, curiosity brightening her face.

"It means once there's an officer vacancy, you can fill it and become an officer."

"Oh my, then you'd be a proper official." Yang Zhaodi beamed. "Let's work hard together!"

Tan Shuangxi chuckled. He found himself genuinely charmed by her unaffected manner. He took a sip of tea and noticed his stomach was empty—only then did he realize it was nearly lunchtime.

"It's almost noon. Let's order something here to fill our stomachs."

"Mm."

Tan Shuangxi ordered two bowls of wontons. Only then did Yang Zhaodi realize she had been doing all the talking. A bit embarrassed, she tossed the conversation back to him. "Shuangxi-ge, was your matchmaking arranged by your family too?"

"Mine was arranged by the Political Department." Tan Shuangxi shrugged. "The battalion clerk delivered the letter—that's how I found out."

"The military is quite caring."

"Yes." Tan Shuangxi hesitated. "Actually, I don't want to marry so quickly either."

"Oh? Why not?" Yang Zhaodi leaned in, immediately interested.

"Sigh." Tan Shuangxi exhaled heavily, then told her everything about delivering death notifications since his return: first about the wives of Hu Weide and Tan Haonan... and finally about Li Anze's sister.

As they talked, the worker brought their two bowls of wontons. This too was a "traditional" snack that had only recently become popular.

"I can't eat this much." Yang Zhaodi scooped several wontons from her bowl with a spoon and transferred them to Tan Shuangxi's.

The gesture was unexpectedly intimate. Tan Shuangxi's heart stirred again—but thinking of what he had just said, his mood sank once more.

He added a spoonful of chili to his bowl—a habit he had developed in the military. It made everything taste better. He hesitated, considering how to express his meaning without causing misunderstanding.

"Being a soldier means going to war. No matter how Fubo Army wins every battle, there are still casualties. When civilians welcome us home in triumph, transport ships are unloading shiploads of wounded at Maniao. Never mind those who don't come back—they all become death notifications in the end. Once on the battlefield, weapons do not discriminate. No matter who you are—even the greatest hero—if you're hit by bullets or shells, you'll be at death's door." He paused. "And most likely, you won't come back."

(End of Chapter)