Chapter 162

It was the end of February 2003, and the old year had just passed, with people still immersed in the lingering atmosphere of the New Year.

The small red building with bright red couplets on the door exuded a peaceful and tranquil atmosphere.

In the bedroom, the sound of typing on a computer keyboard was loud and clear, interspersed with Yuanyuan's complaints: "Brother, slow down a bit."

"Why don't you type faster? By the way, this sentence, 'thermal performance of glass curtain walls,' not 'thermal functionality,' fix that," Little Wang instructed with a commanding tone.

Both of these children had just graduated from university and were currently on winter break, preparing for their thesis defenses.

Little Wang was always multitasking. Yuanyuan had already finished her thesis, but he had been running around all holiday, checking on his investments, attending shareholder meetings, calculating dividends—busier than ever. With the new semester about to start, his thesis was still unfinished. He was dictating his thoughts, and Yuanyuan was typing them up for him. Meanwhile, he was glued to his phone, busy discussing the price of bulk cotton.

Who knew what he was up to.

Chen Meilan was in the kitchen, hand-making plum and mushroom meatballs. In the pot, Yan Zhao was frying beef meatballs, while a small coal stove nearby simmered lamb. The pot was boiling, and the clear broth revealed tender lamb legs with a faint pink hue. The meat was so fresh that there was not a trace of gaminess.

As he made the meatballs, Yan Zhao listened to the news on the TV. When he heard that a businessman traveling from the United States via Shanghai had died in Hong Kong, and it was suspected to be related to the atypical pneumonia outbreak in Guangzhou, he set down his chopsticks.

At that moment, his phone rang. Yan Zhao saw it was a call from the Minister and quickly answered: "Minister Qi."

The other side spoke, and Yan Zhao, looking at the TV, gradually turned serious. He nodded: "I'll be right there."

Turning back, he called out to Little Wang: "Yan Wangqi, come watch the pot. I need to go to the office."

"Yan Zhao..." Chen Meilan stomped her foot in protest.

It wasn't a big deal to have Yan Wangqi watch the pot, but Little Lang had been in Tibet for the past few years and hadn't been home in two years. This year, he had been transferred to the capital, and he was due to arrive today. The child loved his father's fried beef meatballs, and could Little Wang's cooking compare?

Moreover, the holiday season was especially busy for law enforcement, with various surprise inspections on landing units. Yan Zhao had only just gotten some rest. In government work, there was never really an end to the workload. Seeing Yan Zhao about to leave, Chen Meilan couldn't help but blurt out: "My period just ended today."

Yan Zhao was taking off his apron and paused for a moment, a slight flicker of emotion crossing his dark face.

During the New Year, Yan Zhao had been working overtime and on duty. He had just gotten a day off yesterday, and Chen Meilan had been on her period, leaving him frustrated and unable to satisfy his desires. Now that her period was over, even if it were raining knives outside, he would have to rush back.

"I'll definitely be back tonight," Yan Zhao said, taking off his coat and heading out the door, driving off in his car.

As it happened, not long after he left, a larger, darker black wolf, dressed in military uniform and carrying luggage, was calling out for his mother even before reaching the doorstep. As soon as he entered the house, he sniffed the air and said, "This is Dad's fried meatball smell. Mom, where's Dad?"

In a flurry, the two children from the bedroom rushed out, and Yuanyuan exclaimed, "Mom, Little Lang is so much taller than me now, even taller than my brother!"

Little Lang's growth had been a late bloomer. As a child, he didn't seem like he would grow tall, but from the age of 16, he had shot up in height. Now he was even taller than Little Wang, resembling his father just after he had retired from the military. His face had matured from the baby fat of his youth, and his eyes, sharp from frequent sniper practice, were like those of an eagle.

Despite the change in appearance, his essence remained the same.

Chen Meilan served him some lamb soup, and he sipped it, sighing, "The taste of home."

She then scooped out some fried meatballs for him, half with tomato sauce and half with salt and pepper. He picked them up with chopsticks, eating them like skewers, stuffing them into his mouth one by one: "Ah, so fragrant."

But his eyes were searching for his father: "Mom, where's Dad?"

"Your dad will be back tonight. How long will you be able to rest this time?" Chen Meilan asked.

Little Lang raised his fingers: "30 days, a whole month."

This child had been in Tibet before, but now he had passed the exam and was stationed in the capital, belonging to the capital's military special forces, the top elite unit in the country. Apart from his family, he couldn't reveal anything about his work. The treatment was decent, but the hardships were known only to him. Having left home at 16, this was Little Lang's first long vacation.

"When your dad gets back, Mom will take you all to Hainan for a few days," Chen Meilan said.

Little Lang loved water, always stepping into puddles as a child.

With a rare break, taking him to Hainan for a good time would be perfect.

However, upon hearing this news, the most excited was Yuanyuan, who pinched Little Wang: "Brother, my swimsuit will finally come in handy. You have to teach me how to swim."

Little Wang blushed slightly and flicked her forehead with his finger.

This simple action, however, made Little Lang angry: "Brother, why do you always like to hit my sister?"

"Or should I hit you too?" Little Wang said, reaching out to give Little Lang a tap, but before he could, Little Lang grabbed his brother's wrist, lifting him up until Little Wang was almost off the ground.

"Mom, look, your big black wolf is bullying me," Little Wang struggled in vain, pleading for mercy.

Yuanyuan and Chen Meilan saw this and said in unison: "Serves you right."

The three children had grown so much over the years. Once the whitest and cutest Little Lang now stood next to Little Wang and Yuanyuan, looking like a big gray wolf, larger and more mature than the two of them, completely unlike a twenty-year-old.

This day, which should have been a family reunion, Chen Meilan had called over Yan Peiheng and Yan Wei's family, who had just returned from a trip to Guangzhou and were resting at a high-level residence. However, before dinner was ready, Yuanyuan's department head called her, saying he had found her an internship, and this job was particularly important, urging her to return to school immediately.

Yuanyuan studied molecular immunology, focusing on drug and vaccine development, but she had planned to work at Chen Meilan's factory, specializing in formula milk research, and had not submitted any resumes elsewhere.

But since her department head called, Yuanyuan had to go. She left Little Wang to finish his thesis himself, took a couple of bites of the meatball soup, and took a taxi back to school.

Shortly after, Qi Songlu called, saying the local police station had called, asking them to stay at home and isolate for a few days, temporarily not going out or contacting others. The reason for this would be announced in a couple of days.

How many steps did it take to get from the high-level residence to here?

And the word "quarantine" sounded so familiar.

Although Chen Meilan had been reborn, she wasn't all-powerful. In her previous life, in 2003, she had been preparing for an exam, studying business administration, and had hardly gone out.

Moreover, although there had been SARS in Shaanxi Province, it wasn't severe, and the quarantine policy had only targeted returnees from other places. So she hadn't been deeply affected. It wasn't until now, looking at the full table of dishes, that she suddenly realized—could it be that SARS had arrived?

That day, Yan Zhao did not return.

The next day, the news reported that a recent outbreak of a contagious disease had occurred in China. The disease was named SARS, or Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome, a very serious infectious disease.

Just as the Spring Festival had not yet ended, with a large number of people returning home, the capital was at its least populated.

And the small-scale quarantine policy also began now.

Chen Meilan had experienced it before and didn't need to think too much. Stopping the milk powder factory was a pity, but formula milk was critical for infant safety. From now on, sales could continue, but the production workshop would be shut down, and workers sent home to await the improvement of the epidemic before considering resuming production.

As for Little Lang's itinerary, she urgently reported it to the police station and then stayed at home waiting for news.

After all, Little Lang had taken the train back, and it was unclear whether there had been anyone with pneumonia on the train, or whether he could be infected. The police station had to confirm they could go out before she dared to.

Little ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‍Lang had nothing to do with it. When Chen Meilan washed the dishes, he helped clear the plates. When Chen Meilan mopped the floor, he followed behind to arrange the chairs and tables. When Chen Meilan wanted to watch TV, he washed some fruits, occasionally peeling an apple or peeling a couple of oranges. Seeing that Chen Meilan liked sunflower seeds but was too lazy to peel them, he peeled a big handful for her and placed them in her hand.

He couldn't talk about his work unit, but this kid would share some of his experiences from training in the mountains, describing the scenery, talking about snow-capped mountains and Tibetan areas. After years of not seeing him, he was still a photography expert, developing many photos to show Chen Meilan, pointing out which one was the Namcha Barwa Peak and which one was Mount Kailash. As long as he was with his mom, even if they never left the house, Little Lang seemed content to stay forever, calm and unhurried.

In contrast, Little Wang was like a monkey that couldn't sit still.

The first day was fine; he worked on his thesis all day. But by the evening, someone called him, and he wanted to run away. Several times, he tried to sneak out the window, but Chen Meilan had instructed Little Lang to bring him back each time.

That night, to prevent Little Wang from escaping, Chen Meilan had Little Lang sleep with him.

Little Wang tried everything in the middle of the night—using his head, his feet—to see if Little Lang was asleep. Finding him peacefully asleep, Little Wang got up, went to the bathroom to pee, and then, seeing Little Lang still asleep, he tiptoed, dressed as he went, and made his way to the front door. Thinking he was about to escape, he smiled and prepared to run out, but as soon as he opened the door, he saw a pair of shining eyes staring at him.

It wasn't a wolf; it was a gecko.

Little Lang had climbed out the window, hanging upside down on the door. His muscular body was taut, his arms crossed, and he looked at his brother for a while before headbutting him back inside.

Fortunately, only two days passed before the police station called to say that it had been confirmed that people coming from Tibet did not need to be quarantined, and Little Lang was free to move around.

Everything has a process. At this point, the SARS outbreak had not yet reached its peak, so from the official standpoint to the public, everyone was still in a state of nervous anticipation and a wait-and-see attitude.

As soon as the police station called, Little Wang ran upstairs, grabbed a photo from his room, and bolted.

Chen Meilan chased after him, yelling for him to wear a mask. He didn't have time to put one on and shouted back, "Mom, you're really overreacting."

Chen Meilan handed the mask to Little Lang, telling him to go after Little Wang and make sure he wore it.

Little Lang chased after his brother, nearly knocking over two people in the process—one was Yan Peiheng, and the other was the manager of Bayi Hotel.

Yan Peiheng rarely got to see Little Lang and hadn't even caught him before the young man took off again.

"Dad, what's going on? Why did you come out too?" Chen Meilan asked.

"I've been working overtime lately. With Qi Songlu and the others at home, I haven't been back," Yan Peiheng said, turning to the manager of Bayi Hotel, Wang, and said, "You explain, what exactly is going on."

Manager Wang smiled and said, "Well, our hotel is currently implementing a small-scale quarantine, mainly for people from Guangzhou and Hong Kong. Of course, anyone who has recently checked in is also being quarantined. However, the other night, a guest..." He hesitated, glancing at Yan Peiheng.

Yan Peiheng took over, saying, "It's Mike. After all these years, he finally decided to come and see me. The other night, he landed, and I arranged for him to stay at Bayi Hotel, to be quarantined. But he tried to escape three times that night. Let Little Lang keep an eye on him."

Mike was Yan Peiheng's most beloved grandson.

But also the most rebellious.

His father sent him to West Point, but he dropped out halfway to pursue rock music. Currently, he was reportedly a rock singer.

If Jim and John were the model children that other families envied, then Mike was the one running wild on the path of rebellion, never looking back. Until recently, for some reason, he suddenly decided to visit Yan Peiheng, only to get caught up in this situation.

Yan Peiheng arranged for him to stay at Bayi Hotel, to be quarantined and observe the situation. But Mike wouldn't stay for a minute, complaining that China had no human rights, that this was soft imprisonment, that they wanted to detain him, and so on.

And he had been selected for West Point, so his physical fitness was undoubtedly excellent, far better than Little Wang's. He tried to escape seven or eight times that night. If it weren't for Yan Peiheng's understanding of the rebellious nature of his grandchildren and his prior arrangements with the guards, Mike would have escaped long ago.

Currently, although no large-scale quarantine policies had been officially implemented, various military regions were taking the lead.

Yan Peiheng couldn't let his American grandson run wild on Chinese soil.

So he came to find Little Lang, planning to have the recently returned Little Lang stay with Mike, to keep an eye on his unruly brother and not bring shame to the country, the army, or their Yan family.

"Go ahead, I'll call Little Lang now and have him go with you," Chen Meilan immediately said.

The epidemic had just begun, and its severity would only be known in a few months. Chen Meilan had experienced it and was afraid of death, so she was more cautious than anyone else.

And so, after being cooped up at home for a few days, Little Wang bolted like a flash of lightning, and Little Lang had a new mission: as a Chinese special forces soldier, he had to accompany his former American soldier brother, Mike, in quarantine at the hotel.

Tall and muscular, Little Lang hugged Chen Meilan before leaving: "Mom, you stay here alone for now. I'll be back in a few days. There are peeled sunflower seeds on the table, remember to eat them. The apple is peeled, but you should eat it within half an hour, or it will oxidize. Go to bed early, your skin is a bit dry lately."

"Okay," Chen Meilan said.

Despite being tall, dark, and strong, Little Lang's heart was always the gentlest and most delicate.

As for Bayi Hotel, things weren't too formal yet. There was just a rope tied at the entrance, serving as a warning line. People inside weren't allowed out, and no one from outside was allowed in. Of course, everyone inside was recent guests who had come to the military region for business and were now being held for observation. Only after the police station gave the okay could they be released.

Little Lang, following Manager Wang, could of course enter.

However, the staff from the neighborhood committee still needed to dress him up. Seeing that he had a mask, they didn't provide one, but they pinned a small badge on his chest that read 'Neighborhood Model.' Although the badge was small and had just been printed and laminated at a small shop on the street corner, it represented honor. From now on, Little Lang was an honored member of the neighborhood committee.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

And Little Wang, as it happened, was also at the entrance of Bayi Hotel. Seeing the hotel staff let Little Lang in and the crowd outside, he ducked his head and slipped in behind Little Lang.

Little Lang went upstairs, and so did Little Wang.

When Little Lang reached the third floor and stopped in front of a room guarded by a group of security personnel, ready to enter, Little Wang, while on the phone, confirmed the room number with the person on the other end and stopped right across from it.

They had both followed Manager Wang upstairs. The room Little Lang entered was where his American brother, Mike, was staying.

And the room Little Wang knocked on... well, he was quite nervous when the door opened, because the person inside should be an old grandfather. Little Wang had never met him before, but he had seen a photo of him when he was young, tucked inside a copy of his father's "Criminal Law."

With Little Wang's smarts, did it take him any time to figure out who the photo of Yan Xishan's father was?

Not at all.

In fact, it was the day Chen Meilan deliberately placed that book in his bedroom that he had flipped through it.

Of course, he had been a kid until recently. Even if he had thought about dating, with both of them not yet graduated from university, and his father being so strict, he didn't dare to make a move. But he wasn't idle either. If he had been afraid of being punished by his parents before, Chen Meilan giving him the book was like giving him the guts to act openly.

And not only did he have the guts, but his actions were top-notch.

A couple of years ago, when he went back to his hometown, he specifically talked to Yan Bin and Yan Yong, inquiring about the cotton merchant who had once visited the village and where he was from, eventually obtaining the valuable information that he was from Kashgar.

This year, Jinbao's unit took on a water conservancy project in Kashgar, and during the summer, Little Wang went there.

But the person wasn't easy to find. Calculating it out, the old man was at least seventy this year, maybe even already buried.

Little Wang's journey left him utterly dumbfounded. The city of Kashgar was far larger than he had ever imagined, and the streets were filled with people sporting high noses and deep eye sockets. As he looked around, nearly everyone resembled Yan Xishan.

Within the city, things were manageable, but outside the city limits, the vast expanse of cotton fields stretched endlessly, with populations spread so thinly that even visiting a neighbor in the countryside required a half-day's drive.

How was he supposed to find anyone in such a place?

Little Wang searched all summer but returned home disappointed. However, during the New Year, Jinbao provided him with a valuable lead. According to Jinbao, Kashgar was home to a renowned cotton grower who, in his youth, had traveled far and wide selling cotton, including a trip to Shaanxi

Province. This cotton magnate, due to religious reasons, was planning to travel abroad and would be passing through the capital.

Little Wang saw this as an opportunity. He invited the cotton grower to the Bayi Hotel, under the pretext of wanting to buy cotton, hoping to have an in-depth conversation with him to determine if he had ever been to Yanguan Village and experienced "One Night in Yanguan Village."

The old man, reportedly accompanied by his two sons, was persuaded by Little Wang's sweet talk to leave his sons behind and make the trip to the Bayi Hotel alone.

Coincidentally, on the night the old man arrived, the military district initiated a quarantine policy, and he ended up being quarantined.

Yan Xishan would never have guessed that the mystery of his origins would be unraveled by Little Wang.

When Little Wang knocked on the door and hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, he was greeted by a pair of slippers flying at him in a double drift, a welcome gift from his older brother Mike, who had once served as a soldier in the U.S. Army.

Little Lang didn't dodge; one slipper hit him on the head, and the other knocked off the "Model Street Guardian" badge from his chest.