Zhou Rong patted Guo Weixiang’s arm, as if transmitting some kind of strength, and pressed heavily: “Don’t think like that. If you had lived so long without any achievements, how could Deputy Director Guo rest in peace?”
“When you shouted at him about pursuing your own dream, your grandfather was actually happy,” Zhou Rong continued. “The old man must have been at peace when he left, knowing you were capable and didn’t need to rely on anyone.”
Xiangzi breathed rapidly, making a sharp nasal sound that eventually turned into uncontrollable sobbing.
Ding Shi carefully walked over, and Chun Cao followed lightly behind him. The four of them sat around the small dining table. Ding Shi patted Guo Weixiang’s back, offering soft comfort, and Guo Weixiang’s wailing gradually turned into a hoarse, low sob.
“Rong ge,” Chun Cao asked softly, “Is the disbandment confirmed?”
Zhou Rong exhaled a white mist, seemingly with a bitter smile, though it was hard to see clearly.
Chun Cao and Ding Shi exchanged a glance, seemingly unwilling to believe it. “But… our sixth squadron is still here.”
Wasn’t it said that as long as there’s a squadron leader, there’s an establishment? How can it be disbanded just like that…”
Zhou Rong did not answer.
As Chun Cao was about to ask again, Ding Shi touched her hand and gestured with his eyes for her to look down.
Chun Cao’s heart skipped a beat, and she fell silent.
“What are your dreams?” Zhou Rong suddenly asked through the white smoke of cigarettes.
Chun Cao and Ding Shi looked at each other.
“My dream is to do something truly meaningful,” Zhou Rong seemed to be talking to himself. “Not constantly worrying about whether pants are straight, if collars are neat, how one looks in front of cameras, or whether subordinates might embarrass themselves in foreign media. Not always pondering the meaning behind a glance, the hidden layers in a sentence, or the intricate interest relationships between people and factions… I just want to do something real, even if it’s like that Liberation Army unit back then, helping an orphanage shovel some snow in the morning.”
He wiped his face, extinguished the cigarette, and smiled sadly.
Guo Weixiang unknowingly stopped crying and whispered, “Rong ge…?”
