The Dongfeng EQ-140 Truck looked mighty and imposing, with double glass windows and plenty of horsepower. It drove with real power. Jiang Ping climbed down from his tractor and stared straight at the beast parked next door, unable to tear his eyes away.
He’d never driven a big beauty like that himself, but he’d seen them in action.
Jiang Ping worked at the appliance factory in town. The transport team there mostly used Liberation-brand trucks, with only one Dongfeng truck bought just last year. Every driver in the factory coveted it and dreamed of getting their hands on the steering wheel, but that precious thing cost twenty thousand yuan. The factory guarded it like treasure; no one but the on-duty driver could do more than look.
Jiang Ping never imagined he’d see one back home. When he caught sight of the man stepping down from the truck and studied him closely, his eyes lit up. “Brother Lang?!”
That “Brother Lang” carried three parts hesitation and three parts surprise.
He hurried forward. Once he got a clear look at the man, Jiang Ping finally confirmed it: the one driving the Dongfeng truck was none other than his neighbor, Cheng Lang!
Dressed in a simple black short-sleeved shirt and black trousers, the short-haired man had sharp brows and keen eyes. His piercing gaze swept over Jiang Ping’s face before he finally nodded. “Jiang Ping.”
“That’s me.” Jiang Ping scratched the back of his head, a mix of excitement and awkwardness at seeing a familiar face. “Brother Lang, you’re back? We haven’t seen each other in years.”
“Mm.” Cheng Lang wasn’t one for many words. He turned and slammed the truck door shut.
Jiang Ping remembered the neighbor Cheng family well. Uncle and Auntie Cheng had their issues, but Cheng Lang had been impressive since he was a kid—climbing mountains, swimming rivers, good at everything. He even protected the other kids in Nine Mountains Village from being bullied by Village Secretary Zhao Gang’s thug of a son. Jiang Ping had always loved trailing after Cheng Lang as a kid.
They’d lost touch after Cheng Lang enlisted young. Jiang Ping later heard that his neighbor Brother Lang had served three years, been discharged, and gone into business. He hardly ever came home after that. Meanwhile, Jiang Ping had followed his third uncle to work in town, starting as a tractor driver and eventually making it to the factory transport team through hard work.
Time flew by—seven or eight years in a blink. Jiang Ping had a lot he wanted to say, but he was too tongue-tied to know where to start.
Especially since the appliance factory in town was doing worse and worse. Plenty of young folks were thinking of heading south for work, and Jiang Ping had been toying with the idea himself. He was just figuring out how to ask Brother Lang about opportunities.
“Brother Lang, what kind of work do you do down south? I’ve been thinking about heading that way to try my luck.”
But before he could finish, a shout rang out.
Village Chief Wang Chonggui had heard the news and hurried over from the hillside opposite. He called to the two of them. “Cheng Lang! Jiang Ping! What a good day—Zhao the Secretary’s boy is marrying. And you two long-lost ones are back too! Come wash up and have some wedding wine.”
Jiang Ping had been busy hustling in town and had even brought his family over, so he really hadn’t come back in ages. This time, the village’s only tractor had broken down, so they’d called him to fix it. He’d just driven it back after repairs.
He chuckled along. “Uncle Wang, whose wedding is it?”
“Right there, your neighbors.” Wang Chonggui pointed to the only brick house with signs of life between the Jiang and Cheng homes. “The Feng Family.”
Jiang Ping froze at that. The Feng Family…
Wang Chonggui clapped him on the shoulder, urging him to go drink wedding wine. Jiang Ping, never good at refusing, nodded dazedly and headed off. Cheng Lang, however, refused outright.
“Uncle Wang, I’m not going. Once I sort out the family matters, I’ll give you the money. I’ve got to hit the road tonight.” Cheng Lang didn’t have much time; the cargo in the truck bed needed delivering soon. “Come find me after you’ve had your wedding wine.”
Village Chief Wang had already downed a few cups that day. His dark face glowed red as he sized up the sturdy man. The eldest Cheng son, back after years away, was cutting through the knots decisively to settle his parents’ debts and wrap everything up. “Still heading south? To Ink River?”
“Mm.”
Uncle Wang sighed. He couldn’t see the boy Cheng Lang used to be anymore, but at least the kid had made something of himself. He stuffed a handful of wedding candies into his hand. “Take some candies then. Got to get some of that good luck.”
Feng Man had been watching from the window for a while. She saw Cheng Lang turn down the wedding wine. After Wang left, he just stood there, glancing toward the Feng Family home before lowering his eyes and weighing the wedding candies in his hand.
In her past life, she’d seen plenty of handsome guys online and off, but Feng Man had to admit the man standing by the truck right now was a rare catch.
Tall and broad-shouldered with long legs, he wore simple clothes—plain and even a bit dirtied from the long drive—but it couldn’t hide that burst of masculine energy.
When he looked up, his handsome features stood out: straight nose, deep eyes, a touch of sharpness and aloofness. He turned and headed to the house on the left of the Feng Family.
Was this the tall, handsome, kind-hearted, reliable neighbor fiancé from the book—the one with a truck and a house?
Feng Man leaned against the wall, stuffing her two bundles into her clothes as she pondered. The Jiang Ping she’d just seen had a square face, was a head shorter than Cheng Lang, and his features were merely passable. He drove a tractor, worlds away from the imposing truck parked in the next yard…
No doubt about it—that Cheng Lang had to be the original body’s fiancé who’d made it big down south!
She could still hear snippets of Wang and Cheng Lang’s earlier conversation drifting to her ears. The man’s low voice was somewhat pleasing…
He was leaving tonight for the south—straight to her old home in Ink River!
Village Secretary’s son Zhao Gang getting married was naturally a big village event. Especially since Zhao Gang had been making waves in town these days, partnering with folks to open a nightclub. He was a local tyrant now, looking down on everyone.
The villagers watched this once-mischievous kid grow into a vigorous young man and couldn’t help but sigh. Plus, the Zhao Family was generous: the open banquet featured lavish spreads of big fish, meat, and even rare seafood from out of town. Everyone exchanged festive words as if money grew on trees, and joy filled the air.
Feng Jianshe was in high spirits, toasting with the village secretary and calling him “in-law” left and right. He was about to clap his new son-in-law on the shoulder and play the father-in-law when he saw Zhao Gang’s burly frame, his fleshy face quivering—especially the knife scar slanting over his right brow. Feng Jianshe recoiled in fright and muttered awkwardly, “Son-in-law, I’m handing… handing Zhao Zhao to you.”
A flush of joy colored Zhao Gang’s fierce face, though it still looked scary. “Dad, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of Zhao Zhao.”
Feng Jianshe relaxed a bit. Thinking how he’d shone today, he kept downing cups until the sun slanted low. Finally, his wife Zhang Cuijuan and daughter Feng Baozhu came to help him back to the house for a rest.
Drunk and stumbling, Feng Jianshe collapsed into bed and snored like thunder. Feng Baozhu helped her mother tuck a thin quilt over him. Her small hand slipped under the covers, clenched into a fist, and pressed against her pant leg. “Mom, I’ll go check on Tianbao. He’s running around everywhere. I saw him head to the kitchen earlier and argue with big sis.”
Strike first to gain the advantage—Feng Baozhu worried Tianbao would snitch, so she went preemptively.
Zhang Cuijuan fretted over her son running wild, but with Old Feng about to wake and needing to send her daughter to Zhao Gang’s, she couldn’t spare the time. She nodded right away. “Go on. Keep an eye on him. Don’t let him run off, especially not to the kitchen.”
“Got it!” Feng Baozhu bolted off like smoke.
The sun sank slowly westward. The midday blaze faded to gold, spreading from the horizon and dancing over the hilltops.
The iron lock hanging before the Feng Family kitchen had its keyhole filled. The little girl turned it right, and the wooden door swung open.
“Sis, you have to run now!” Feng Baozhu pushed the door wide and spilled the whole plan. “Dad will wake up soon and send you to the village secretary’s. I just saw that Zhao Gang—he’s terrifying.”
Feng Baozhu knew her big sis didn’t want to marry. Zhao Gang looked like a vicious demon. She’d even run into him in town once while shopping for New Year’s goods—he was leading a gang collecting protection money, swinging steel pipes at anyone slow to pay. Just like a triad gangster.
She didn’t want her big sis marrying him either. Too scary.
But her big sis was soft-natured, so Feng Baozhu worried she still wouldn’t dare run and urged her a few more times.
Feng Man, already packed and ready, finally slipped out of the kitchen. She firmly instructed her little sister, “Remember, you were never here. If anyone suspects, pin it on Feng Tianbao.”
“Mm, I know!” Feng Baozhu’s thick brows and big eyes bobbed with vigorous nods. But then she worried again and pulled some pocket money from her pocket. “Sis, run fast and be careful on the road. Here’s half my saved New Year’s money.”
These years, Feng Baozhu had it better than the original body—her parents were blood-related, after all. Though Zhang Cuijuan doted most on her son, her daughters were flesh and blood too. She wasn’t heartless, just biased. Feng Baozhu’s New Year’s money was less than Feng Tianbao’s but more than the original body’s.
A total of twenty yuan saved up—Feng Baozhu split it half. “I gotta go. Need to hang the key back on Dad’s belt quick, or it’ll be found out.”
Time was tight. Feng Man felt a pang of emotion and ruffled Baozhu’s round head. After just three days together, real sisterly bonds had formed. “Act like you know nothing when you go back. Be smart.”
The book mentioned that Feng Jianshe later investigated who stole his key to open the door. He’d even suspected his kids, especially Baozhu who got along with the original body. Luckily, Baozhu was clever, playing innocent and aggrieved to muddle through with just a scolding from her dad.
Still, Feng Man wasn’t fully reassured. She decided to go all in for insurance.
She grabbed the kitchen hatchet—used for chopping wood, its blade razor-sharp—and hacked at the lock and door. The lock snapped, and the wood scarred in several places. It looked just like someone had broken in from outside, clearing Baozhu of suspicion. “Once I’m settled, we’ll find a way to contact each other.”
“Okay.” Feng Baozhu watched in surprise as her big sis moved with such decisive ease. She left the kitchen, glancing back every few steps, suddenly feeling like this person was somehow different—though she couldn’t pinpoint how.
……
The sunset dipped below the hills. The open banquet fired up again for dinner, festive noises drifting in. Feng Man gazed at the rugged, endless mountain path ahead and finally fixed her eyes on the blue truck parked in the neighboring yard.
No surprise there—the original body’s fiancé owned that blue truck.
Feng Man recalled how the book described the original body, this cannon-fodder side character: if only she’d caught up with her somewhat-fond fiancé and gone south together, she wouldn’t have fallen into the demon’s clutches for a tragic life.
Cheng Lang hadn’t returned from his errands yet. Feng Man approached the truck, lifted the edge of the deep blue tarp, and peeked inside. It held some loose cargo pieces—not fully loaded, with plenty of space.
Feng Man steeled her resolve. Her right foot kicked the truck tire, left foot on the bed’s lower edge, hands gripping the top. With a heave, she vaulted aboard.
The deep blue tarp shifted, then settled smooth under slim fingertips, returning to stillness.
……
Before dinner started, Village Chief Wang Chonggui took Cheng Lang to the village committee office to settle all accounts. Cheng Lang even gave him a key to watch the old house. Then the two parted.
The groom, uncharacteristically, went around toasting. He’d never been this amiable in his life. Seeing the village chief arrive late, he asked around and learned, “Cheng Lang’s back?”
Knowing these two peers had never gotten along since childhood, Wang Chonggui hurried to dissuade him. “Gangzi, don’t stir trouble. It’s your big wedding day.”
“Uncle, what’re you saying? How could I cause trouble? I’m getting married—Cheng Lang has to give me face.” Zhao Gang turned to his new father- and mother-in-law. “Bring Zhao Zhao out to show her face and have a drink with everyone.”
Especially to show off in front of Cheng Lang—he had everything now.
Feng Jianshe and Zhang Cuijuan had locked up the eldest girl all day; she ought to have learned her lesson. Time to give her a talking-to, show her off, then straight to the bridal chamber. They agreed at once.
Feng Jianshe splashed water on his face to sober up and patted the key on his belt. “Let’s go get her.”
Zhang Cuijuan hurried after him.
……
Cheng Lang paused at the village committee office door, hearing the wedding bustle from the left. He paid it no mind. A slim cigarette dangled from his long fingers. As he reached for his lighter to light up and leave, a burly figure blocked his path.
“Cheng Lang, when did you get back?” Zhao Gang had come despite the village chief’s warnings.
Zhao Gang had never gotten along with Cheng Lang since they were kids. He’d loved bullying others back then, making all the village kids his slaves. But Cheng Lang protected them, and Zhao Gang couldn’t beat him one-on-one or even in a group fight without both sides hurting.
The name Cheng Lang had always been a thorn in his heart.
Thinking about how he was now a local tyrant in Chongling Town that no one dared provoke, and looking at Cheng Lang’s sturdy build honed from years in the military and hustling, Zhao Gang felt unsure deep down. He simply decided to put on a show of authority in front of Cheng Lang. He stepped forward, acting like they were old brothers, and invited, “Come on, brothers from the same village. Come drink my wedding wine and join the fun. Tonight, I’ll even arrange for you to have some fun at the nightclub in town? This is me being magnanimous, not holding grudges against small fry like you.”
Real fights and killings seemed pointless. Zhao Gang just wanted Cheng Lang to see how powerful and impressive he was now! Showing off was the proper way!
Unlike Zhao Gang, who appeared amiable on the surface but eyed him vigilantly and competitively, Cheng Lang lifted his eyelids to glance at him. With a click, the lighter sparked and a flame burst out, licking the tip of the Hongta Mountain cigarette. He took a drag with thin lips around the filter and slowly exhaled the smoke as he said flatly, “No time.”
Zhao Gang’s anger surged. He watched Cheng Lang stride away briskly, nearly grinding his teeth to pieces.
But today was his big wedding day. He had to meet his beautiful bride soon and enter the bridal chamber. He wouldn’t stoop to his level!
……
Without a phone or watch, Feng Man waited quietly in the truck, roughly estimating that it was about time. Her heart beat a bit faster as she hid under the tarpaulin in the truck bed.
Until…
A door-closing sound came. Soon after, the engine rumbled, making the truck vibrate slightly. Feng Man’s almond eyes brightened—this meant they were setting off!
The rumbling startup sound had never been so pleasing. Feng Man leaned against the cab comfortably and let out a long breath, feeling the truck slowly roll onto the road.
However, less than a minute into the drive, the truck suddenly stopped. Feng Man perked up her ears and heard a familiar voice.
“Is that the Cheng family kid? Why’d you come back? Where are you headed?” Feng Jianshe had handed the keys to his wife to open the door and let people in. He himself craned his neck to stare at the young man in the truck’s driver’s seat.
Feng Man held her breath, not daring to make a sound. The greetings from the people up front came intermittently, unclear.
Only Zhang Cuijuan’s shocked cry upon discovering the bride missing rang out deafeningly: “Old Feng, oh no, Zhaodi’s gone!”