Qian Duoduo’s uncle-in-law had retired from the military.
Deep down, she harbored a few stereotypical notions about the profession of “soldier.”
Her uncle-in-law was stern and old-fashioned, rarely smiled, and was stationed at a base in the northern frontier.
He returned to Nancheng only a few times a year, and the total time he spent at home never exceeded thirty days.
Qian Duoduo got along well with her cousin from her aunt’s side. The two girls often played together.
In Qian Duoduo’s childhood memories, her cousin had only a vague impression of her father.
Every time he was mentioned, her cousin’s reaction was always lukewarm.
Staring at the friend request from her eleventh blind date, Qian Duoduo spaced out for a moment, then absentmindedly tapped “Accept” and got out of bed, grabbing her phone and opening the bedroom door.
Qian Duoduo lived in a mid-rise apartment with European-style architecture.
The floor wasn’t high, and the afternoon sunlight filtered through the greenery outside, casting fragmented shadows through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Zhang Xuelan was sitting on the sofa with her phone, sunbathing while playing mahjong.
“Mom.” Qian Duoduo lifted her phone and asked, “How do you know this guy?”
“Your Auntie Sun introduced him. Said he’s really outstanding. Don’t worry, Auntie Sun and I go way back — she watched you grow up. She wouldn’t set you up with someone bad.” Zhang Xuelan cracked some sunflower seeds, glanced at Qian Duoduo’s phone out of the corner of her eye, and smiled. “You added him already?”
“Not yet.”
“Then hurry up. Start chatting.”
Qian Duoduo hesitated, lips moving as if she wanted to say something, but stopped.
She turned to go back to her room, then paused at the doorway. “Grandpa’s medicine…”
“It’s steeping,” Zhang Xuelan said without even lifting her head, fully focused on her game. “Once it’s ready, I’ll have your dad deliver it. You focus on your own matters.”
*
Back in her room, Qian Duoduo reopened the friend request.
After a few seconds of hesitation, she tapped “Accept.”
The chat window popped up.
At the top was a system message confirming they were now friends, but aside from that, the screen was blank and white.
Qian Duoduo tapped her phone with her fingertip, saw no response from the other side, shrugged, and let it go.
She switched back to her game, picked a hero, threw some skills around, and dominated the battlefield.
After three rounds, a WeChat video call suddenly popped up.
The ringtone was jarring. Qian Duoduo glanced at the caller ID — it was her friend Zhao Jingxi.
She answered.
“You’re not busy right now, are you?” On the other end of the video was a close-up of a beautiful face — straight black hair, bold red lips, dazzling and radiant like a winter rose.
“Nope, just playing games.” As she replied, Qian Duoduo stretched lazily, loosening her joints.
“Quick, quick, help me pick — which design looks better?” As she spoke, Zhao Jingxi flipped her camera to show two sets of nail art: one a soft French ombré in white, the other a black-and-gold 3D floral design.
“The one on the left is too plain.” Qian Duoduo had a good eye for aesthetics and quickly gave her honest opinion. “The black-and-gold one suits you.”
“Got it.”
Zhao Jingxi was waiting in line at a nail salon, and with nothing better to do, she started casually chatting with Qian Duoduo over video.
Somehow, Qian Duoduo ended up mentioning the eleventh blind date.
After hearing the details, Zhao Jingxi’s curiosity was piqued. “A military officer? Six-foot-three? Got a photo?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you ask your mom for one?”
“Forget it.” The heater in the room was making it a bit stuffy.
Qian Duoduo got up to open the window.
A few strands of her hair were lifted by the breeze, brushing across her clean, delicate cheeks. “I’m just going along with my mom. Most likely nothing will come of it.”
Zhao Jingxi: “What if he turns out to be great?”
Qian Duoduo gave a soft laugh. “I don’t want to date a soldier.”
“Why not?”
“They’re too noble and sacred. Too many responsibilities, too many constraints.” Qian Duoduo’s voice was gentle and steady as she shared her thoughts. “Most importantly, they usually aren’t very romantic. Not the best fit for a relationship.”
Zhao Jingxi nodded in understanding. “True. Most soldiers are pretty stiff. Living with a boring guy sounds miserable just thinking about it.”
The two girls chatted on and off about this and that.
After hanging up, Qian Duoduo played a few more rounds of her game.
Eventually, she started to feel drowsy, tossed her phone aside, and fell asleep.
*
Qian Duoduo woke up to find it was already evening.
The sky had darkened, and in the twilight, a few birds flapped their wings as they flew past.
Knock knock.
Someone knocked on her bedroom door from the outside, and Zhang Xuelan’s voice came through: “Duoduo, time for dinner.”
“Okay.” Just waking up, Qian Duoduo’s long hair was a mess, and her voice was thick with sleep and nasal laziness as she replied drowsily.
She unplugged her phone, and the screen lit up automatically.
Several unread WeChat messages had piled up.
She casually scrolled through them — just some promotional posts from public accounts, which she swiped left and deleted one by one.
As she was deleting, a pure black profile picture suddenly caught her eye.
Qian Duoduo’s finger paused, her gaze shifted slightly, and she tapped it open.
Lu Qiming: [Hello.]
Lu Qiming: [Sorry, I was busy this afternoon.]
After reading the two messages he had sent, Qian Duoduo was a bit confused.
They had just added each other — what was he apologizing for?
She didn’t ask, just politely replied: [Hello.]
Right after she sent the message, Zhang Xuelan’s voice called out again, urging, “If you dawdle any longer, the dishes will be cold. Hurry up.”
Qian Duoduo responded loudly.
Remembering that her mom had said once she met this one, she wouldn’t need to go on any more blind dates, Qian Duoduo thought it over and decided to settle it quickly.
She quickly typed out a question: [Mr. Lu, are you free this Saturday afternoon?]
Lu Qiming: [Yes.]
Qian Duoduo: [Then how about we meet at 3:30 p.m. on Saturday at the “Cloud Sugar Box” dessert shop on Han’an Road?]
Lu Qiming: [Sure.]
[Great!]
After sending the message, Qian Duoduo let out a quiet breath.
At dinner, the family of three gathered at the table.
Qian Duoduo served her parents their food and noticed her father Qian Haisheng’s car keys on the table.
She asked, “Dad, did you deliver Grandpa’s medicine?”
“Yeah.” Qian Haisheng, a retired mid-level state-owned enterprise official, had the steady and refined air of an old-school cadre.
He smiled kindly at his daughter and said, “You’re usually the one who brings Grandpa his medicine — he was so happy. He kept praising you for being such a good girl.”
Qian Duoduo had always been the apple of the family’s eye and was dearly loved by her elders.
Two years ago, Grandpa Qian had been diagnosed with bladder cancer.
After surgery and ten rounds of chemotherapy, his health had declined significantly.
He had been on traditional Chinese medicine ever since, and the prescriptions needed renewing every two weeks.
Hearing her grandpa’s praise made Qian Duoduo’s nose tingle.
She lowered her head and smiled. “It’s the least I can do.”
Zhang Xuelan placed a piece of sea cucumber into Qian Duoduo’s bowl and asked gently, “Did you add him on WeChat?”
“Mm.” Qian Duoduo replied, “We’ve set a time to meet this Saturday.”
“You already arranged to meet?” Zhang Xuelan was overjoyed. “Good, good, good.”
Qian Haisheng seemed to realize something and turned to Zhang Xuelan, lowering his voice. “This the guy you mentioned before?”
Zhang Xuelan shot him a look, barely able to hide her pride.
Qian Haisheng smiled and gave her a discreet thumbs-up — clearly, he had high hopes for candidate number eleven too.
Unaware of her parents’ exchanged glances, Qian Duoduo quietly ate her meal.
As for that pitch-black starless profile picture, she didn’t open it again.
*
Nancheng wasn’t exactly a big city — not as dazzling and glamorous as Yuncheng or Beijing.
The older generation still held on to traditional views.
But it wasn’t small either.
With a population in the tens of millions and fierce internal competition, the dream of “lying flat” and coasting through life was doomed from the start.
Qian Duoduo had work Saturday morning — a special livestream for a local fresh produce supermarket in Nancheng.
She got up early, did her makeup and styling, and arrived at the venue right on time.
Qian Duoduo’s speaking skills were average.
In her years as a full-time content creator, she had focused mainly on food and restaurant reviews, rarely doing livestreams.
This fresh market event had been specifically requested by the brand to collaborate with her.
Lacking natural talent, she compensated with extra effort.
Qian Duoduo took this livestream very seriously, preparing thoroughly beforehand.
After four straight hours, she wrapped up with impressive sales numbers.
It was already 3 p.m. by the time they finished.
Beside the makeup station, the stylist was helping Qian Duoduo take down her hair.
Nearby, her phone screen was still open to her chat with Zhao Jingxi.
Zhao Jingxi: [You were the one who asked him out? Impressive, Qian Duoduo. Totally seeing you in a new light.]
Qian Duoduo: [I just think chatting online is a waste of time for both sides.]
Zhao Jingxi: [I get it.]
Qian Duoduo: [You remember our plan, right?]
Zhao Jingxi: [Of course I do. If number eleven looks decent, send me a 1, and I’ll stay quiet so you can sit a little longer and finish your dessert. If he’s hideous, send me a 2, and I’ll call you immediately and get you out of there!]
Qian Duoduo: [OK.]
She peeled off the uncomfortable fake eyelashes, ran her fingers through her thick, seaweed-like black curls, said goodbye to her coworkers, and left.
*
Han’an Road was one of Nancheng’s trending hotspots, a street lined with dopamine-colored dessert shops and cafés.
With vibrant, eye-catching decor perfect for photos, it had become a favorite hangout spot for the younger crowd.
Qian Duoduo chose this location for just one reason — it was only five minutes by car from the supermarket where she had just finished her livestream.
After parking in a marked spot by the curb, she walked along the sidewalk for a bit until she reached the entrance of “Cloud Sugar Box.”
She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and the dessert shop was fairly full.
Most of the customers were girls, clearly here to take photos and check in online.
So when Qian Duoduo scanned the room, she quickly noticed a booth by the window in the back.
Sitting beside a mushroom-shaped table was a man.
The store’s heating was turned up high, and he wore only a plain black sweater — no added colors, no fashion flair.
Under the warm-toned lights, his broad shoulders and tall build stood out sharply.
He sat straight, his presence somber, sharp, and imposing.
The air around him practically crackled with an aggressive aura, making him look entirely out of place against the girly pink walls and grassy green decor.
Qian Duoduo paused, her gaze settling on the rolled-up sleeves at his forearm.
She noticed his arm was lean and strong, fingers long and defined, with a faint, gnarly old scar winding across his wrist bone.
It evoked words like “wild,” “hunter,” and “predator.”
Honestly, she was a bit stunned.
He was the only solo male guest in the whole dessert shop — Qian Duoduo already knew who he must be.
She could only blame herself for not mentally preparing beforehand.
She’d imagined a six-foot-three soldier might be a bit intense — but she hadn’t expected his sheer presence alone to be this overwhelming.
While her thoughts drifted, Qian Duoduo’s eyes unconsciously moved upward a few inches.
And landed on a sharply defined face.
Straight nose bridge, deep-set eyes, smooth brow line, and lips that were neither too thin nor too full, carrying a subtle sensuality.
Good-looking, no doubt, but with such strong bone structure and pronounced angles, his features came off a bit too severe.
He didn’t look like someone easy to get along with.
Qian Duoduo stole a few more glances, then subtly stepped aside into a corner.
Afraid of mistaking someone else and causing an awkward scene, she decided not to walk over right away and instead pulled out her phone to confirm on WeChat.
But just as she lit up the screen, a voice suddenly sounded behind her — low-toned, smooth like fine porcelain.
“Qian Duoduo?”