Passion

Once in the car, Bi Qingtang sat in silence, his face dark and brooding. Tan Yang knew his temperament well; whether he was jealous or his pride was wounded by what had just happened, he was always left simmering with anger. With the driver and attendant present, Bi Qingtang would never lose his temper in front of others, not even for a matter like this. This man was tough, cared deeply about appearances, yet he could never quite control the bottle of jealousy he held close to his heart.

Tan Yang couldn’t help but smile as she watched Bi Qingtang. Men, old or young, clever or foolish, ugly or handsome—regardless of their experience, status, or abilities—when love is deep and lasting, they become like children in your heart. You grasp their most vulnerable side, understand their most innocent moments.

Bi Qingtang caught Tan Yang’s smile, and her gloating expression ignited a burning fire within him. Restless, he fumbled for his cigarette case and lighter, attaching the ivory mouthpiece to his cigarette. Tan Yang picked up the lighter as he prepared his smoke. When Bi Qingtang held the cigarette between his lips, Tan Yang lit the flame and leaned in, smiling sweetly before his eyes. Bi Qingtang snorted coldly, “Who needs your flattery?” Though he feigned indifference, he leaned forward with the cigarette nonetheless.

With a snap, Tan Yang shut the lighter before Bi Qingtang could light his cigarette. “What are you doing?” he demanded. “It’s not to please you—I wouldn’t want the reputation of sycophancy,” Tan Yang replied half-jokingly. Bi Qingtang, thoroughly incensed, tossed the cigarette aside. “So you think you’re in the right?” “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Tan Yang shot back, refusing to back down. “You—” Bi Qingtang began, glancing at the driver and attendant in the front seat. Frustrated, he barked, “Stop the car! Pull over right now!” Before the car had fully stopped, Bi Qingtang opened the door and dragged Tan Yang out.

At a deserted street corner, he pulled her aside, eager to argue. “Do you never tell anyone you have a husband? At first, I thought you were shy, unwilling to tell your female classmates. But what is this now? ‘Mr. Tan’—what next? If someone comes to propose, saying they want to marry my wife, should I just agree?” “Brother, listen to yourself. I don’t tell others because the school forbids students from marrying. Some secretly wed, and if it’s kept quiet, the school turns a blind eye. But if word gets out and teachers and classmates know, Jinye Middle School is strict about its reputation—they wouldn’t let me continue my studies. Just a little over a year and I’ll graduate and go to university. Brother, can’t you let me keep this secret for a year? You know how much I want to study!”

Hearing Tan Yang’s reasonable explanation and sincere plea, Bi Qingtang found himself unable to justify his anger. Tan Yang leaned closer, thoughtfully suggesting, “I’ll tell my classmates you’re my fiancé, not my brother—will that do?” Bi Qingtang glanced down at her, and she added, “Once Xu Zhizhong knows, he’ll withdraw.” Bi Qingtang, still dissatisfied, muttered, “You think I care about him? He’s so clueless!” Tan Yang smiled gently, explaining, “We’ve been classmates for two years, and I know his character. He’s not an arrogant playboy; he’s upright and principled. Once things are clear, he won’t persist.”

As they walked back, Bi Qingtang frowned slightly at her words. “Sister, don’t tell him I’m your fiancé! You think I don’t know these so-called righteous young men? The more you say you’re betrothed but not yet married, the more heroic they feel, talking about rescuing you from outdated marriage customs, making themselves out to be saviors. In truth, it’s just about snatching a fiancée from another man, proving their own charm and strength, all under the guise of noble causes. That’s the most infuriating part.” He wagged his finger at Tan Yang mischievously. “If you don’t want him to know I’m your husband, then don’t mention a fiancé either. Just call me your brother! This way, he’s in the open and I’m in the shadows—no matter what he tries, I’ll be watching. He won’t know who I am.”

Tan Yang was displeased. “Is this really worth scheming over?” Bi Qingtang laughed, unconcerned. “You don’t understand, do you? Love between men and women, affection between children—all the strategies and tactics used in real life apply here. The battlefield of romance is no different from the battlefield or business world: talent, cunning, diligence—all are indispensable. Xu Zhizhong is nowhere near my level, wants to compete with me? Maybe in twenty years!” Bi Qingtang boasted, but Tan Yang’s eyes dimmed. At last, she sighed, “Brother, Xu Zhizhong isn’t as you imagine, and I don’t agree with your philosophy. All I can offer you is sincerity.”

Tan Yang finished speaking and walked alone toward the car, her figure lonely and forlorn. Bi Qingtang stood there, bewildered. Two people together, loving each other truly, but each in their own way. Sincerity is not necessarily the highest form of love; cunning is not always the lowest. One assumes love in the world is singular, but it’s far more than that. Each person stubbornly loves in their own manner; ten thousand people have ten thousand ways of loving. Even one person, facing ten thousand others, may love each differently. Love is a matter of ideology; its endless transformations have made it a theme celebrated for millennia.

Bi Qingtang’s love left Tan Yang feeling lost and cold, while Tan Yang’s love filled Bi Qingtang with guilt and warmth. They had argued as they left the car, Bi Qingtang flaring up, Tan Yang responding. By the time they returned, it was Tan Yang who had grown cold, and Bi Qingtang who was meekly coaxing her, speaking softly and carefully. The attendant in the front glanced at the driver in confusion, who pretended not to notice. In truth, he understood well: their boss Bi, for all his stature, seemed to lose all his power before Mrs. Bi, as if they were at cross purposes.

A week later, one afternoon, Bi Qingtang took advantage of an early hour to bring gifts to Jinye Middle School to visit Zhao Ling, and to pick up Tan Yang after class. Zhao Ling happened to have no classes that afternoon, and in her office, Bi Qingtang sat with his legs crossed. Zhao Ling happily opened the parcel, popping a dried fruit into her mouth. “You’re already a mother—how can you still be so greedy for snacks, and so impatient!” Zhao Ling laughed without concern. “Li He doesn’t like these treats, and my son is too young to eat them. They’re all mine anyway, so what difference does it make when I eat them? Some people just can’t wait, you know?” “Don’t take jabs at me. We’ve been married nearly a year, yet you still hold grudges!” Bi Qingtang complained.

As Zhao Ling swallowed, she suddenly frowned, feeling nauseous, and rushed to the corner to retch. Bi Qingtang poured her a glass of water, gently patting her back. “Morning sickness again?” She nodded, and Bi Qingtang sighed, “You and Li He are about to be parents of two. You both should settle down. I came today to remind you—the authorities are getting stricter. Be careful.” Zhao Ling nodded earnestly. “Thank you, Brother Bi.” Bi Qingtang smiled self-deprecatingly. “I don’t understand your lofty principles. I just want to be an ordinary businessman and earn my own living. But some common truths I do understand, which you may not. There’s an old saying: ‘While parents are alive, children don’t travel far.’ I think it should add: ‘When children are at your knees, parents shouldn’t take risks.’ Whatever you and Li He decide, I can only advise so much. As for me, I’ve already planned—if Tan Yang and I have a child, I’ll give up the business association and its affairs.”

Zhao Ling took a sip, holding the glass tightly. “Boss Bi, I can only say Tan Yang has found a good home. You’re a good husband and father, but you’re not a qualified citizen.” Bi Qingtang just laughed, unconcerned.

When ideals meet reality, it’s like a scholar facing a soldier—there’s no clear answer.

The bell rang outside, and students began pouring out of the academic building. Bi Qingtang was in no hurry; he knew Tan Yang was diligent and would linger a while before coming out. He poured himself some water and gazed out the second-floor office window while Zhao Ling chatted idly. Suddenly, Bi Qingtang choked on his water, coughing awkwardly. Zhao Ling went to the window and, seeing the scene below, smiled knowingly.

Zhang Xiangning and Tan Yang walked arm in arm, while Xu Zhizhong stood in the middle of the road waiting for them. It was a splendid spring day—flowers faint, breeze gentle, trees lush, sunlight warm—and a crowd of vibrant young men and women. As they reached Xu Zhizhong, Zhang Xiangning chatted cheerfully with him. Tan Yang tried to leave, but Zhang Xiangning held her back, handing her bag to Tan Yang and rushing off, apparently to fetch something. Tan Yang, holding the bag, couldn’t leave and waited where she was, with Xu Zhizhong by her side, smiling and talking.

Dressed in a black woolen Zhongshan suit, Xu Zhizhong looked upright and dashing. Standing beside the gentle, elegant Tan Yang, they made a striking pair. “How well-matched!” Zhao Ling exclaimed, leaning at the window, full of schadenfreude. Bi Qingtang shot her a fierce glare. “If you end up in jail, I won’t pity you one bit!” Zhao Ling dusted off her hands, unconcerned. “I’m just being honest—many people think that, even Zhang Xiangning. Actually, Xu Zhizhong is quite single-minded.” “If he keeps hanging around, I’ll deal with him!” Bi Qingtang spat, enraged.

“That’s exactly what worries me,” Zhao Ling suddenly grew serious. “Xu Zhizhong is a fine young man—proper, insightful, ambitious. You know that Chiang Kai-shek believes in Zeng Guofan’s theory that character is revealed in appearance, so at Whampoa Military Academy, students must not only be brave and resourceful, but also dignified and impressive. Last year, a prominent political figure—a confidant of Chiang—came to Jinye Middle School to supervise youth education. After a brief conversation with Xu Zhizhong, he was so impressed he insisted on recommending him to Whampoa. Upon graduation, he’d become part of the President’s inner circle. Such a meteoric opportunity—anyone else would be thrilled, but Xu Zhizhong politely declined. He said he didn’t want to enter Whampoa simply because, if he ever took up arms and donned a uniform, it would be for the well-being of forty million compatriots, not for his own advancement.”

Zhao Ling sighed deeply. “That’s what I admire most about him—this backbone and vision rare among men. So, Boss Bi, don’t ruin this fine young man over petty jealousy. Otherwise, I’ll be the first to object, and Tan Yang will resent you. I’ve watched closely; Tan Yang admires and respects Xu Zhizhong, but that’s all. Trust her—she may be young, but she knows her boundaries. She can handle this. Don’t bring your streetwise tactics into the school.”

“Who are you calling a street thug?” Bi Qingtang retorted angrily, but Zhao Ling saw through him. He protested outwardly, yet the advice had reached his heart. There are times when you try to persuade others with all your heart, but instead, you are the one who ends up changed.

Bitan Chronicle 3028_Bitan Chronicle Full Free Reading_30 (28) Heroic Spirit updated!