Rong Wenwu was silent for a while: "That year, it was an accident. At that time, the political work department wanted to introduce potential partners to unmarried cadres."
He rubbed his temples wearily: "The people attending the gathering are members of the performing arts troupe. There are too many people from my workplace involved. As the person in charge of this event, I also have to be present and keep an eye on them."
It's not surprising that many soldiers who have served in the military for many years, even those who have risen to the rank of regimental commander, still don't have a partner.
On the battlefield, it's not uncommon for an entire battalion or regiment to be single. On the front lines, there are many "lonely" brothers and sisters who are promoted to high ranks.
Having grown accustomed to the brutality of battle, they were overjoyed at the prospect of being introduced to potential partners.
In the midst of fierce battles on the battlefield, who wouldn't want a wife, children, and a warm bed?
From the very beginning, he had his subordinates both openly and secretly inquire about the girls attending the social event.
So the higher-ups were also worried that if it turned out that two people were interested in the same girl, it would be troublesome.
At that time, the girl leading the ballroom dance was a 17-year-old star performer of the cultural troupe, who was also the most popular girl at the time.
At the time, however, he didn't pay any attention to what the other person looked like; he only felt annoyed that he had to keep an eye on his subordinates.
After Zhu Jun left, he consistently refused such occasions.
But this time I had no choice but to come.
Looking at the couples below the social gathering, some shy, some laughing, he felt terrible and drank alone at a small table.
That day, he watched as everyone left, and then he got drunk by himself.
"When I woke up again..." Rong Wenwu recalled the events of that year, still feeling a headache that made his head feel like it was going to explode, and he rubbed his temples without making a sound.
"When you wake up again, the girl who led the dance will become an obligation you have to marry, is that it?" Madam Ning sneered.
Rong Wenwu remained silent, not speaking, but only closing his eyes and speaking in a low, strained voice—
“Nothing happened between us that day, but…everyone saw her leave my room. She just took care of me for one night and said it had nothing to do with me.”
He smiled bitterly: "But after a month of gossip, the girl cut her wrists and almost didn't survive. When the older sister from the performing arts troupe came to demand an explanation, we found out that this wasn't her first suicide attempt..."
"So you married her?" Madam Ning scoffed.
"I think Zhu Jun should have married a barbecued pork instead of you! You look like a soft-shelled turtle! You're good for nothing but fighting, and you've fallen into a woman's trap without even realizing it!"
Seeing his expression, Madam Ning was furious and immediately launched into a tirade in heavily accented Mandarin!
Rong Wenwu remained silent for a while before saying in a deep voice, "No matter what, the responsibility should not be placed on the woman."
He paused, closed his eyes, and said in a complex and hoarse voice, "In the end, it's my fault. I'm not worthy to mention Zhu Jun's name... I admit it."
"Of course it's your fault. You didn't want to marry He Su, but no matter what methods she used, you still had two children with her. Fine, I'll consider you and Zhu Jun divorced, and from now on, you'll have no further connection in terms of marriage."
Madam Ning replied coldly.
"But Zhaonan is your and Zhujun's child, why did you hand Zhaonan over to that woman! Zhaonan was always a little gentleman when he was young, but look what he's become in that woman's hands!"
She stared sharply at Rong Wenwu.
There wasn't much information I could find out about my own identity; most of it was stuff that everyone in the compound knew, so it wasn't exactly a secret.
But based on some of the details Ning Yuan mentioned, she was certain—
He Su was less a kind and gentle person praised by everyone and more like the painted-skin ghost in "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio"!
No matter what Madam Ning said before, he would admit his mistakes and accept the beating, but when it came to Rong Zhaonan's education...
Rong Wenwu frowned.
"Spare the rod and spoil the child; it's always been true. When I was disobedient, my grandfather made me kneel in the ancestral hall to receive family discipline!"
He disagreed, saying, "Besides, we can't bring his spoiled brat attitude back; it will only bring him trouble. He's always causing trouble, getting into countless problems. Teachers, classmates, everyone in the neighborhood has complained about him, only..."
"Only He Su not only didn't complain, but also spoke up for the child in front of you and protected the child. But the more you listened to her, the angrier you became, and you even hit the child?"
Madam Ning interrupted Rong Wenwu with a cold laugh, furious.
Rong Wenwu was taken aback: "..."
"What right do you have to tell me how to raise children?"
Madam Ning's gaze was icy and sharp as she looked at him. She had already asked him everything—
"You're lucky if you come home once a month all year round, and then you get angry at the slightest disagreement when you see them. Besides hitting the child, have you ever asked the child why he did it?"
“You don’t listen to anything. You only listen to what others say, to what He Su says. You will never listen to what your own child has to say. It’s his misfortune to have a father like you! What right do you have to say anything to him now!”
"Because that's how you talk to him. You taught him all of this. You taught him by example that this is the only way to communicate with you! Like father, like son, this is what you deserve!"
Madam Ning's scathing, factual, well-founded, and methodical lecture and rebuke left Rong Wenwu speechless.
Rong Wenwu felt a mix of emotions, and suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.
He recalled how his eldest son would start arguing at the slightest disagreement, and besides sarcastic remarks, he would never speak to him calmly.
When exactly did it begin that the father and son could no longer speak a single word calmly?
In the month that Ming Zhaonan had just returned from abroad, he was more worried about the child's ability to adapt to everything in China.
But later, influenced by external voices, it turned into frustration and helplessness...
Ultimately, step by step, they have become what they are today.
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