Cannon Fodder in an Era Drama — I Survive with Acting-Chapter 137: One Step at a Time

"I’m only strict for your own good."

"Mm."

He didn’t say anything more, and she didn’t press him.

She had previously asked the old ladies about Fei Jin’s past, hearing many bits and pieces.

Some said he was stubborn as a child, refusing to admit he was wrong after breaking a bowl. Others said he was an excellent student, and his teachers all praised him, saying he’d have a promising future.

She wrote down these fragments in a notebook, analyzing them one by one, mulling them over repeatedly.

She had even made a special point of writing a letter to Grandpa Yuan, who lived on Gourd Lane in the Capital. In the letter, she detailed Fei Jin’s name, his date of birth, and the few key events she knew about.

She wanted to know if Grandpa Yuan knew Fei Jin, if he knew about his experiences as a young man—especially those sealed-away years in the military.

But it had been over two months since she’d sent the letter. There was no return receipt from the post office, nor had anyone brought a message back.

She had gone to the post office to ask once. The clerk checked the records and said the letter had indeed been delivered and signed for, but no reply had been sent yet.

She wasn’t in a hurry, though.

She had calculated the time. There were at least five years until the turning point in Fei Jin’s fate.

Five years wasn’t a short time, but it wasn’t long, either.

It was enough time for her to do many things.

She could investigate the records from that year, visit the people involved, and even try to access some of the archives.

She had already asked someone to pull some strings at the archives. As long as the paperwork was in order, she could view some of the public records.

She knew the process would be difficult, but difficult didn’t mean impossible.

Five years. It was enough time for her to uncover the truth.

’Why did he choose to pull the trigger with his own hands that day?’

She wasn’t arrogant, but she wasn’t insecure either. She knew her own limits.

She was well aware that she wasn’t some kind of natural genius, but she had patience and perseverance.

She could focus on a single problem for months, tirelessly sifting through materials, visiting old sites, and questioning the elderly.

She wasn’t afraid of hardship, nor was she afraid of getting the cold shoulder.

As long as her goal was clear, she could move forward, one step at a time.

What she had to do was walk, step by step, into the deepest part of his heart, put down roots, and make him willing to lay all his worries bare for her. Then, she would take his hand and lead him out of that pitch-black past.

The words lacked fancy prose, but they were so real they could bring a person to tears.

As Song Qingya read on, her heart ached, yet it also felt warm.

She couldn’t help but give him a sincere compliment, saying with a smile, "Ajin, if you hadn’t joined the army, you probably could have been a university professor, the kind that teaches and nurtures students. I’m not even exaggerating."

A flicker of light shone in Fei Jin’s eyes, gone in an instant.

He looked down at the manuscript he had just finished, his fingers gently rubbing the edge of the paper as if confirming something.

After a few seconds, he replied softly, "But if I hadn’t joined the unit, I wouldn’t have been stationed in Qi City, and I never would have met you."

"You..."

Song Qingya’s face instantly turned beet red. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breathing grew uneven.

She hadn’t expected him to say something like that, so open and direct.

She opened her mouth, wanting to retort, but she didn’t know where to begin.

All she could do was lower her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the corner of her clothes as the tips of her ears turned red.

"How have you gotten so smooth with your words? You’ve got a whole routine down."

"Mm. I say them for you. Do you like it?"

Fei Jin’s nose gently brushed against hers. They were so close she could feel his warm breath on her face.

His eyes were fixed on her, without a trace of avoidance or concealment.

Song Qingya’s voice was light and soft. "I do."

She really did like it.

It wasn’t just politeness or a perfunctory answer; it was a genuine joy blooming in her heart.

She liked that he was willing to talk, that he was willing to reveal his emotions to her, that he no longer bore the weight of everything on his own shoulders.

She knew this step wasn’t easy.

And she knew this was only the beginning.

But as long as he was moving forward, she would always be by his side.

Since she’d transmigrated here, these had been the most comfortable days of her life.

Every morning when she woke up, she would see Fei Jin sitting by the bed, watching her quietly. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Even though he was already dressed and ready to leave, he would still reach out to tuck in the corners of her blanket, his movements gentle, as if afraid of waking her.

The aroma of food wafted in from the kitchen.

Every day, she opened her eyes to her impossibly handsome and incredibly considerate husband by her side. On the table, a freshly cooked, steaming meal would be waiting. And the little one in her belly would give her a kick or two every now and then, as if to remind her it was still there.

Before she sat down at the table, Fei Jin would taste the congee to check the temperature.

If it was too hot, he would set the bowl down to let it cool for a moment, then lower his head to blow on it a few times.

He would cut the fried egg into small pieces and arrange them neatly on the side of her bowl, making it easy for her to scoop them up with a spoon.

He knew her tastes had been leaning toward stronger flavors lately, but she couldn’t eat anything too salty. So he always paid extra attention to the seasoning, using less salt and adding a bit more sesame oil and chopped scallions.

When the baby moved frequently, he would place his hand gently on her belly, patiently waiting for the next kick.

Life felt like it was soaking in syrup, so sweet it was almost cloying.

She no longer had to worry about making a living or dealing with complicated relationships.

People in the residential compound would smile and greet her whenever they saw her, their tone warm and friendly.

Aunt Wang from downstairs often brought her homemade pickled vegetables, saying pregnant women should eat more to stimulate their appetite. She’d also specifically remind her not to add too much chili.

When Sister Sun next door saw her carrying something heavy, she would immediately run over from her own doorway to help, not even letting her touch a water bucket.

She was starting to love this rhythm of life, this feeling of being wrapped in stability, and waking up each day to someone who cared about her well-being.

Her annoying aunt and her family were no longer around to cause trouble. Ren Wenwei and Sun Qiang, the ones who had harmed her, were in police custody. And she had completely cut ties with her mother and that bloodsucking younger brother of hers.

She no longer received phone calls demanding money, nor did she have to worry about someone showing up at her door to harass her.

The thoughts that used to keep her up at night no longer surfaced at all.

She even threw away her old phone without saving the number.

Her new life was starting from a blank slate, and every stroke she painted was her own to decide.

She could eat in peace, sleep soundly, and no longer had to fake her emotions or be wary of someone’s schemes.

’This,’ she felt, ’is the life I was meant to have. This is the life I truly want.’

When the front door closed, the young couple lived their own little life, ridiculously happy.

They would take a walk after dinner, strolling slowly around the family housing compound.

Fei Jin walked at a leisurely pace, always matching her speed, with one hand resting naturally on the small of her back.

When they ran into acquaintances, he would naturally place his hand on her shoulder in a protective gesture.

When they got home, he would watch TV series with her, occasionally commenting on the plot.

She would lean on his shoulder, and when she got sleepy from listening, she would fall right asleep.

He wouldn’t wake her. Instead, he would gently carry her to the bed, take off her shoes, and tuck her in, his movements so soft it was as if he were afraid of disturbing a sweet dream.

She couldn’t even bring herself to think about the internet, which she used to be unable to live without.

She no longer scrolled through short-form videos or watched arguments unfold on social media.

She hadn’t even opened a shopping app in a long time and no longer chased after sales to place orders.

Her attention was entirely focused on the life right in front of her.

She started learning to knit a baby sweater. She bought some light blue yarn and sat on the balcony, knitting one stitch at a time.

Although she was clumsy with her hands and kept making mistakes, unraveling her work and starting over, her progress was very slow.