UAAG CH76

Five years ago, Qi Zhifeng, the former instructor at the Jinling Military Region Air Force training camp, was forced to retire early due to failed stock investments and took a position with Rogue Aviation.

Air Force pilots enjoyed excellent benefits and treatment, but compared to captain positions at major airlines, the work was far too busy, leaving no time for side jobs or family care. When Qi Zhifeng retired, Du Sen hadn’t yet graduated from the training camp. At that time, no one imagined that life never offers salvation in desperate straits—only adds insult to injury.

After retiring, Qi Zhifeng’s life gradually improved, and everything seemed hopeful.

But then, suddenly, his wife and son were in a car accident together. His son died on the spot, and his wife became comatose. Such a blow to a husband and father was nothing short of a bolt from the blue.

Recalling the situation at that time, Regiment Commander Nie sighed. “Although Old Qi had already retired, when something like that happened, the military still offered help, transferring his family to the Air Force General Hospital for treatment. Sigh, who could have imagined that two months later, Old Qi would encounter that air disaster, and now even his family member is gone.”

Fu Cheng’s lips trembled, but he couldn’t speak a single word.

Eight years ago, when he first entered the training camp, he had met his teacher’s wife once. At that time, the teacher was leading a group of new recruits in theoretical classes. In the classroom, the teacher was stern, upright, with a booming voice. He loved to suddenly call someone’s name and have them stand up to answer questions. If they couldn’t answer, they had to run fifty laps around the field.

Everyone was terrified. They were all teenage boys in their teens and twenties, normally afraid of nothing, but at those moments, they all lowered their eyebrows and eyes, terrified of being spotted by Qi Zhifeng.

That time, Fu Cheng was called on to answer.

It was a rarefied gas dynamics problem. The Boltzmann equation clearly printed itself in his mind—everything so familiar it felt like yesterday. Fu Cheng was a bit nervous but still managed to answer correctly. Then he saw an officer knock on the door. Instructor Qi walked over and exchanged a few words with him. Suddenly, as if hearing something, Instructor Qi’s stern, solemn face broke into a surprised smile. Such a smile appearing on the face of someone so rigid seemed somehow comical, out of place.

Instructor Qi suddenly looked up toward the corridor. Because Fu Cheng was standing, he could see a bit too. He saw a long-haired middle-aged woman. When Instructor Qi saw her, he smiled. Then he straightened his face, walked to her side, spoke a few quick, low words, then returned to the classroom. “What are you doing? Class isn’t over. Are you trying to rebel? Alright, Fu Cheng, good answer. Sit down!”

Almost without doubt, as he sat down, Fu Cheng inexplicably realized that must have been his teacher’s wife.

Family destroyed, everyone dead.

These four words had never been so nakedly displayed before Fu Cheng’s eyes.

Upon learning that their teacher’s son had died in the car accident and his wife remained unconscious, Fu Cheng and several old classmates immediately requested leave and specially went to the hospital to visit their teacher. The spirited, robust lieutenant colonel officer in their memories had turned white-haired overnight, sitting listlessly in the hospital room.

That day, several students took their instructor out to dinner. After getting drunk, Instructor Qi grabbed Fu Cheng’s hand, eyes red, and asked him, “Tell me, why does heaven treat me this way? Fu Cheng, I don’t understand. Fu Cheng…”

That was the first time Fu Cheng saw his teacher cry, and the only time.

He had been broken down by life, shattered.

But life had to go on. A month after his wife’s accident, Qi Zhifeng returned to work at Rogue Aviation. He needed to earn money to pay debts and cover his wife’s expensive medical bills.

But five years later, his wife still passed away.

After a long while, Fu Cheng said quietly, “I suppose this counts as a reunion.”

Regiment Commander Nie let out a long sigh. “Old Qi truly had a bitter fate!”

After saying a few more words, Regiment Commander Nie patted Fu Cheng’s shoulder. “I still have some things at the lab, so I’ll go first. Fu Cheng, you’re always welcome back. If your health improves and you’re doing better, don’t waste time out there—come back to me! Understand?”

Fu Cheng nodded. He stood up, wanting to see the regiment commander off.

The two walked together to the conference room door. Regiment Commander Nie suddenly stopped, turned back, and said, “By the way, at UAAG, what do you think of Zhuo Huan?”

Fu Cheng froze abruptly. After a moment of silence, he said, “Teacher Zhuo is very capable, extremely outstanding.”

Regiment Commander Nie laughed. “Who’s asking you that? Do you think I don’t know whether Zhuo Huan has ability? Back then, Old Li and I shamelessly asked the chief to let him come lecture at our base. Have you forgotten?” Then Regiment Commander Nie’s expression turned serious. He lowered his voice and said solemnly, “I’m asking you, what’s this person’s political consciousness like?”

Fu Cheng looked at Regiment Commander Nie in astonishment.

Regiment Commander Nie explained, “The country has always wanted to invite Zhuo Huan back. He’s Chinese—what’s he doing building planes for other countries? Why not come back to his homeland and build planes? Never mind COMAC, the country has many fighter jet development projects that all need talent! Two years ago, after Zhuo Huan resigned from McFly, we had people contact him, wanting to invite him back. But he never agreed, and he never refused either. You’ve been in contact with him for a while—tell me, does this person have some other reasons? Like growing up in the West since childhood, being influenced in certain ways, and not wanting to return?”

After a moment of silence, Fu Cheng said, “Teacher Zhuo isn’t that kind of person. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have set up UAAG’s headquarters in Shencheng.”

Regiment Commander Nie thought about it. “What you say makes sense.” After pondering for a long time, he asked again, “Then does Zhuo Huan have any personal character issues in private? I heard he’s not very easy to get along with.”

Fu Cheng blurted out, his tone firm, “No, Teacher Zhuo has no personal moral issues whatsoever!”

He spoke too quickly, without any hesitation. Regiment Commander Nie was momentarily stunned.

Regiment Commander Nie nodded. “Oh, alright. Don’t mention this to anyone else.”

Realizing his intense tone just now, Fu Cheng’s lips moved, and he said softly, “…Mm.”

The two walked out of the conference room together.

After seeing off Regiment Commander Nie, Fu Cheng and Du Sen went to the COMAC factory to confirm some data on the new airfoil and conduct flight simulations.

Days passed one by one.

The second week after Zhuo Huan and Fu Cheng accepted COMAC’s commission to design a new wide-body aircraft, Lina and the other two left Shencheng. UAAG had been commissioned by Air France—three months ago, one of their cargo planes crashed at Frankfurt International Airport. Fortunately, there were no fatalities; both pilots suffered only minor injuries. Now that the accident investigation was nearing its end, several tricky problems had emerged, so Air France commissioned UAAG to assist with the investigation.

When Lina mentioned this to Zhuo Huan, he gave his answer directly over the phone: “You three go.”

Lina laughed. “Alright.”

Air France had no objections, so two days ago, Lina, Su Fei, and Old Joseph boarded a plane to France, arriving in the distant romantic capital of Paris.

Meanwhile, back at the COMAC laboratory in Shencheng.

Normally, although test flight team pilots needed to maintain close contact with aircraft design planning, they were pilots after all, not designers, so most of the time they were relatively relaxed. Like Du Sen, he also handled Air Force practice orders and sometimes disappeared for days to execute secret missions.

Fu Cheng was similar.

After the first test flight mission ended, he had a long vacation. He only needed to go to the COMAC lab twice a week.

Of the three on the test flight team, only Zhou Jin truly stayed at COMAC’s aircraft manufacturing plant, recording every experimental log. Of these three, Du Sen was an elite Air Force pilot; joining the test flight team was an order from above—he was there to provide assistance. Fu Cheng was similar; he was specially appointed by Zhuo Huan because he was more familiar with the new airfoil and had relevant experience.

Zhou Jin was the real test pilot. He needed to closely monitor the aircraft’s manufacturing progress.

In mid-August, Fu Cheng took a taxi to the COMAC factory. He first went to the test pilots’ lounge to greet Zhou Jin, then came to the laboratory.

The sensor glass door automatically opened to both sides when the young man walked to within one meter of the door. Cool air conditioning dispersed the oppressive heat of the outside summer. The bone-chilling coolness was refreshing. Fu Cheng walked to Lab T4. After a month of working together, several familiar lab technicians smiled and greeted him when they saw him. Someone came over to brief him on the latest modifications.

Lab technician: “The new test flight is tentatively scheduled for next Tuesday.”

Fu Cheng: “Alright, I understand.”

After exchanging a few more words, Fu Cheng took a thick stack of materials and left the laboratory.

Dazzling sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows on both sides of the glass corridor. The air conditioning had stripped away some of the oppressive heat, leaving only brilliance without scorching intensity. Fu Cheng flipped through the materials as he walked forward. Halfway there, as if sensing something in his heart, he looked up and saw Zhuo Huan walking from the other end of the corridor.

Both paused when they saw each other.

Their eyes met. Fu Cheng silently gazed at the man standing not far away, and Zhuo Huan looked at him too.

A few seconds later, they approached each other.

Fu Cheng greeted him first. “Teacher Zhuo.”

Zhuo Huan glanced down at the materials in his hands, raised an eyebrow slightly, his voice casual. “Test flight materials?”

“Mm.”

“So many.”

Fu Cheng looked up at him. A few seconds later, he said, “Mm.”

Zhuo Huan had both hands in his pockets, casually chewing gum, his gaze fixed on him for a few seconds before he let out a soft laugh through his nose. He stepped around Fu Cheng and continued forward. After two steps, he seemed to remember something and turned back. “Oh right, have you eaten?”

Fu Cheng turned around. “I have.”

Zhuo Huan looked him up and down. “Have you lost weight, Fu Cheng?”

In an instant, the river flowing gently at the bottom of his heart suddenly surged with enormous waves, crashing against the fragile, vulnerable dam, causing his heart to ache inexplicably and profoundly.

Fu Cheng looked deeply at the person before him, staring without blinking, then smiled and said, “Have I? Teacher Zhuo, are you seeing things?”

Zhuo Huan glanced at him. “Oh, perhaps. See you next week.”

“Alright, see you next week.”

After saying goodbye casually, the two turned and left separately.

In the quiet, empty corridor, sunlight reflected on the marble floor, creating rippling, undulating brilliance. Reaching the end of the corridor, Fu Cheng stopped. He stood in place, his fingers trembling violently. He looked up at the ceiling, then lowered his head. After a long while, he stepped forward and left.

On the other side, he didn’t see that the person who should have gone to the cafeteria had turned a corner and entered the smoking room.

Zhuo Huan stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, smoking while watching Fu Cheng go downstairs and walk toward the entrance. He smoked with an indifferent expression, white smoke rising before his eyes. His fingers held the cigarette as he leaned slightly against the window, watching until the young man’s figure disappeared around the corner of the building, no longer visible. Zhuo Huan let out a soft tsk, pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray, and forcefully ground it out.

After Fu Cheng returned home and put away the test flight materials, not long after, he received a call from Su Qiao.

Tonight was the class reunion.

This reunion was to raise funds for an old classmate. Fu Cheng couldn’t refuse. Before the gathering started, he anonymously transferred money to that old classmate’s Alipay account.

In the evening, they had dinner at a five-star hotel.

Not many people came—just two tables. However, everyone wore designer watches and carried designer handbags. Fu Cheng walked into the hotel wearing just an ordinary T-shirt. When he saw these glamorous yet utterly unfamiliar classmates, he suddenly understood something. Throughout the entire gathering, he sat quietly to one side, eating alone with his head down.

Some old classmates did see him, happily chatted with him, and asked if he still remembered them.

However, Fu Cheng’s attitude was polite but distant. After a few conversations, no more classmates came to chat with him.

Su Qiao, however, was the social butterfly of the private room. Surprisingly, she had a good alcohol tolerance—she could drink with male classmates and chat about luxury goods with female classmates.

By the end of dinner, everyone was flushed, as if they were all close friends who hadn’t seen each other in years.

After the gathering ended, everyone called for designated drivers.

Fu Cheng held his phone, about to call a car home, when a soft female voice sounded from behind him. “Fu Cheng…”

Fu Cheng turned around. “Su Qiao?”

The pretty, beautiful woman’s cheeks were slightly flushed. She wasn’t completely drunk, but she was clearly tipsy. Frowning, she said, “Can you take me home?”

Fu Cheng was silent for a moment. “I don’t have a car.”

An old classmate heard this and said loudly, “Su Qiao, I’ll take you home. I drove here—a Mercedes.”

Su Qiao turned and smiled at him. “No need. I just want Fu Cheng to take me back.”

As those words fell, ambiguous teasing sounds erupted in the private room.

In this noisy environment, Fu Cheng looked calmly at Su Qiao. Su Qiao turned back, her gaze falling into Fu Cheng’s indifferent eyes, and for a moment she felt suffocated. After a few seconds, she smiled and blinked. “Fu Cheng, you wouldn’t refuse to give me this face, would you? I’m drunk. You wouldn’t have the heart to let me go home alone in the middle of the night, would you?”

Fu Cheng looked at her silently, then said softly, “Alright.”

The classmates laughed heartily.

Fu Cheng and Su Qiao walked out of the private room side by side. By the time they got downstairs, the ride-share driver had been waiting for a long time. Fu Cheng opened the door for Su Qiao. After she got in, he opened the door from the other side and got in himself.

The car slowly started moving.

The quiet car formed a stark contrast with the noisy, chaotic private room just moments ago. Fu Cheng looked out the window.

No one knew how much time had passed before a hoarse female voice sounded. “Fu Cheng.”

Fu Cheng turned to look at her.

In the dim light, the beautiful woman’s eyes were slightly red as she smiled at him with a fragile, helpless expression. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

After a moment of silence, Fu Cheng said, “No.”

Su Qiao laughed self-deprecatingly. “I wronged you back then, I know. In your heart, I’m a disgusting woman.”

“No, you’re overthinking it.”

“I really am sorry. I’ve always regretted what happened back then. But these years…” Her voice suddenly rose, but for some reason, it gradually lowered again. Su Qiao smiled bitterly. “These years, I’ve always missed you. I’ve never liked anyone as much as I liked you. The day before my wedding, I was still thinking—would you suddenly appear, tell me not to get married, and take me away?”

Watching the woman seemingly laughing yet appearing to cry, Fu Cheng opened his lips but truly didn’t know what to say.

Su Qiao looked at him. “But when I was filing for divorce, I suddenly ran into you on the street again. Tell me, does this count as fate?”

In the dimly lit car, the woman looked at him hopefully.

After a long while, Fu Cheng avoided her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Su Qiao’s eyes slowly widened. She turned her head away. In the quiet car, the woman’s soft sobbing faintly sounded.

After taking Su Qiao to her residential complex, Fu Cheng hadn’t planned to get out of the car, but Su Qiao had already wiped away her tears. Standing outside the car window, she bent down with a smile. “Fu Cheng, walk with me a bit more. I drank too much today and feel like I can barely stand.”

Fu Cheng had no choice but to get out of the car.

In the cool evening breeze, they strolled through the residential complex’s garden while Fu Cheng listened to Su Qiao talk about things from high school.

“Fu Cheng, you really were the hardest person I ever pursued! What kind of woman do you even like? I’m so pretty, and I was so good to you. I pursued you for an entire semester—an entire semester! And you only agreed then. I’ll tell you secretly, I was about to give up at that point…”

“Do you remember the hair clip you gave me when we’d been dating for a month? I’ve always kept it. I still have it on my vanity table. I haven’t thrown it away…”

“And the movie tickets for the Titanic rerelease that we watched together—I kept those too…”

Basically, it was all Su Qiao talking while Fu Cheng listened quietly. Just like ten years ago when they were students—it was the same then.

After saying much, Su Qiao gradually stopped talking. After a long while, she asked softly, “Have you had a girlfriend these years?”

Fu Cheng glanced at her. “No.”

“Then why can’t you look at me?”

“…”

“Is it because I was married?”

“I’m sorry.”

Su Qiao covered her face with her hands, yet secretly left a gap to peek at Fu Cheng. A woman, especially a beautiful woman, looking at you with such sad, sorrowful eyes—even the hardest heart would soften.

Su Qiao: “Is there really no possibility for us?”

Fu Cheng: “…I’m sorry.”

Su Qiao laughed. She seemed to be holding back tears, looking up. “Then can you kiss me once? This has always been my regret—we never kissed back then, only on the cheek. You don’t have a girlfriend now either, and I don’t think my looks would make you suffer. Can’t you fulfill this simple little wish for your first love?”

Fu Cheng was speechless.

Su Qiao feigned surprise. “Don’t tell me—is this still your first kiss?”

Fu Cheng was suddenly stunned. Before his eyes suddenly appeared a narrow, cramped room where that man pressed him between his chest and the door. Zhuo Huan lowered his head, he involuntarily raised his, and then they began kissing, kissing madly. Passion and love entangled desperately. That kiss was so intense that even now, suddenly remembering it, his lips felt slightly warm.

Su Qiao: “Fu Cheng?”

After a moment of silence, Fu Cheng reached out and gently embraced the girl before him.

“I’m sorry. I’m not right for you. You deserve better.”

The smile on Su Qiao’s face froze for an instant. After a few seconds, she also reached out to hug the young man. Burying her face in his chest, she took several deep breaths. Su Qiao said hoarsely, “Okay.”

After seeing the girl from his memories into the building, Su Qiao kept turning back, continuously waving goodbye to Fu Cheng with a smile. That sweet smile and crescent-shaped eyes—everything was exactly the same as in his memories. When she disappeared into the elevator, Fu Cheng looked down at his palm.

If he hadn’t entered UAAG, if there hadn’t been the Rogue 318 air disaster five years ago, he thought perhaps he really might have ended up with Su Qiao.

If there wasn’t someone named Zhuo Huan.

Taking his phone from his pocket, Fu Cheng turned while opening a ride-hailing app, preparing to call a car home. But the moment he lowered his head and turned around, his body suddenly froze. Slowly raising his head, he saw under the moonlight a tall, lean, handsome man with a cigarette in his mouth. Zhuo Huan had one hand in his pocket and held a convenience store plastic bag in the other, looking down at him indifferently.

His breathing stopped for an instant.

After a few seconds, Fu Cheng lowered his phone and smiled. “Teacher Zhuo, what a coincidence.”

Zhuo Huan used his hand to remove the cigarette, exhaled a light puff of smoke, and said coldly, “Not a coincidence. Behind you is my home.”

Fu Cheng: “I was seeing a classmate home. She also lives here.”

Zhuo Huan: “Oh, I saw. Very beautiful woman. She’s your first love, right?”

Fu Cheng: “Mm.”

Zhuo Huan slowly smiled. “Wow, planning to rekindle the old flame?”

Fu Cheng didn’t answer.

“Living here, your ex-girlfriend’s family is quite wealthy. And she’s pretty.”

Fu Cheng: “Did you go out to buy something?”

Zhuo Huan shook the plastic bag in his hand. “Mm, want to see?”

This scene felt oddly familiar. Fu Cheng slowly opened his mouth.

But Zhuo Huan directly answered him. “Condoms. Ran out.”

A long moment passed.

Fu Cheng: “Oh. I’ll head home first, Teacher Zhuo.”

The young man stepped toward the complex entrance. As he walked past the man, a low, hoarse laugh traveled through the moist evening breeze into Fu Cheng’s ears.

“It’s quite late.”

Fu Cheng stopped and turned to look at him.

Zhuo Huan smoked, looking down at him. “So late, your girlfriend didn’t ask you to stay the night?”

Fu Cheng smiled faintly. “Staying the night wouldn’t be appropriate. She’s a girl.”

Zhuo Huan: “Conservatism? No sex before marriage?”

As if sensing what he was about to say next, Fu Cheng didn’t speak, just quietly looked at him.

Zhuo Huan let out a mocking laugh. Before the words “what a pity, she hasn’t seen what you look like in bed—quite a sight” could leave his mouth, his gaze suddenly fell into the young man’s quiet eyes, and the sarcastic words abruptly caught in his throat.

In the cool evening breeze was boundless silence.

Zhuo Huan suddenly felt utterly bored. He impatiently closed his eyes and said, “Fu Cheng.”

“Teacher Zhuo, is there something else?”

Looking steadily at him, countless words piled up in his throat—curses, sarcasm, trivialities, platitudes. Like wind, they drilled in from every gap on all sides. But a thousand words, upon remembering the scene he had just witnessed, that incredibly gentle embrace the young man gave—all became pale, powerless, and dissolved into nothingness.

After a long while, Zhuo Huan looked at the young man before him and clicked his tongue. “When you slept with me, you never seemed to hold me so tenderly.”

His fingers dug into his palm one by one. Fu Cheng heard himself ask back, his tone surprised yet matter-of-fact: “I thought being tender was for relationships. Teacher Zhuo, don’t fuck buddies just need passion?”

In the quiet depths of night, Zhuo Huan slowly took a drag from his cigarette.

Zhuo Huan smiled. “Right, you are very passionate in bed.”

Fu Cheng slowly stopped smiling, his voice calm. “Teacher Zhuo, anything else?”

Zhuo Huan: “No.”

Fu Cheng: “Goodbye, Teacher Zhuo.”

Zhuo Huan: “Oh, goodbye.”

Step by step, he walked out of the residential complex and reached the roadside.

His stomach ached piercingly. Fu Cheng slowly crouched down. His face pale, he stared at the asphalt road surface, looking without a sound. Ten minutes later, he stood up. He should call a car home, but when he raised his head, he saw the convenience store across the street.

The convenience store’s logo was the same as the one on the bag Zhuo Huan had been holding just now.

As if possessed, Fu Cheng walked in. He stood before the checkout counter, looking down at the shelf displaying adult products.

After a while, a store employee came over. “Sir, what would you like to buy?”

Fu Cheng slowly raised his finger, pointing there. “Is this all that’s left?”

The employee glanced. “Oh, that. Someone bought a whole bunch earlier, and we haven’t restocked yet. There are others in the warehouse. Should I go get some for you?”

Fu Cheng smiled silently and shook his head.

“No need.”

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