Chapter Twenty-One Travel Plans

Chen Hao and Gu Mengyan sat in the restaurant, gazing at each other, their minds occupied by the same thoughts. Gu Mengyan had lived through those events years ago, but being so young at the time, her memories of that period had become blurred and indistinct. As for Chen Hao, he hadn’t been present when his father and Gu Mengyan’s parents met; back then, he was still at home with his mother. Everything he knew about those events had been told to him afterwards by his father and Gu Mengyan herself.

Yet he understood very clearly how devastating those events had been for Gu Mengyan. It was because of what happened years ago that she lost her parents and eventually followed the uncle who gave her candy to Chen Hao’s home.

From his hazy recollections, Mengyan seemed to feel a strong closeness to the uncle who had saved her father and given her sweets. Even now, Gu Mengyan couldn’t explain why, but ever since she met Chen Ding’an, she loved being near him, following him wherever he went.

Chen Ding’an, too, seemed fond of her at the time—not at all bothered by children as others might be, but instead showing endless patience, providing her with all kinds of wonderful things, and often taking her out to play when her parents were working. Well… perhaps “out to play” was an exaggeration, as her parents’ workplace didn’t really offer much space to roam.

Everyone who went there to work—engineers, security staff—stayed near a cramped patch of open ground, living in temporary tents. Whether working or resting, each person had barely five square meters of space.

These little tents were the kind used in disaster relief—floods, earthquakes—when shelter was urgently needed.

The only exception was Chen Hao’s father, Chen Ding’an, who had his own small wooden cabin. Though it was hardly spacious—maybe fifteen square meters at most—it could fit a bed, a table, and a few chairs. It wasn’t even as large as Mengyan’s bedroom back home! Her parents were, after all, modestly well-off, and their living conditions were decent.

Still, this makeshift cabin was far better than the disaster relief tents outside. And Gu Mengyan’s parents had no objection to her clinging to Chen Ding’an; in fact, they seemed pleased. First, Chen Ding’an was their savior, and they felt no unease leaving their child in his care. Second, in such harsh conditions, being with someone of Chen Ding’an’s unusual status ensured Mengyan wouldn’t be mistreated.

Gu Mengyan remembered that Chen Ding’an seemed particularly fond of teasing her, and she wondered how a man of thirty could have so many children’s toys—not at home, but in a remote place like Kestal.

But she was just a child, unconcerned with such questions; having someone to play with was all that mattered. Whenever her parents were busy, she stayed by Chen Ding’an’s side. And as for what Chen Ding’an was actually doing in Kestal, no one ever saw him work after arriving—he simply devoted himself to entertaining Mengyan, tireless and enthusiastic.

This continued until the accident that claimed Mengyan’s parents. At that moment, Chen Ding’an was still playing with her. Thankfully, Mengyan was with him—or rather, because he hadn’t been involved in the work—otherwise she might have perished with her parents, or ended up a true orphan.

Had it been so, she would never have been taken in and raised by Chen Hao’s father, never received a good education or grown into adulthood. She wouldn’t have had Chen Hao, both brother and friend, to soothe the pain of losing her parents.

If things had turned out differently, Mengyan couldn’t even imagine what her future might have been—or whether she’d have a future at all. Even if she had escaped that nightmare place unharmed, what would her life have looked like then?

She would probably have entered some orphanage, grown up, been forced out at eighteen, then wandered the streets. Or perhaps, because of her looks, ended up in a place of ill repute. If lucky, married to a wealthy businessman; if unlucky, to a volatile drunk. She’d have a child, face daily abuse and humiliation, and one day, unable to endure it, flee with her child—only for her child to repeat her own bitter fate.

“Heh…” Thinking of this, Gu Mengyan couldn’t help but shake her head.

Chen Hao, awakened from his reverie by her laughter, found his own thoughts diverging from hers. The events of those years had left a deep psychological wound in Gu Mengyan, and her young mind had erased the details of her parents’ deaths as a self-protective mechanism.

Chen Hao’s father, Chen Ding’an, fearing that revisiting those memories would hurt Mengyan again, had never spoken of that time—not to anyone, not even his wife or son, let alone Mengyan herself.

Over the years, whether it was Mengyan, Chen Hao, or even his mother, all had asked Chen Ding’an what had really happened. But he remained silent, refusing to disclose any details. He knew that if he told anyone—wife or son—they might eventually give in to Mengyan’s persistence, and she’d be forced to relive those memories. That would be disastrous; she might collapse altogether.

What happened back then… even he found it unbelievable and horrifying.

Returning to himself, Chen Hao looked at Gu Mengyan with utmost seriousness. “After all these years, you still can’t let it go? Why do you want to go to that place?”

“Hey!” Gu Mengyan forced a cheerful smile. “Don’t overthink it. I let go of the past long ago. As for my parents… I don’t even remember what they looked like. In my heart, I’ve already taken Uncle Chen as my father!”

“Really?” Chen Hao was clearly doubtful; the emotion in Mengyan’s eyes earlier hadn’t looked like someone who’d forgotten the past.

“Of course it’s true. When have I ever lied to you?” Mengyan patted her chest.

“Well…” Chen Hao hesitated. She was right about that; Mengyan had never lied to him, even as a child, always confessing if she’d been teasing him. Still, her expression struck him as odd.

It was a kind of indescribable regret, mixed with something else.

“So why do you want to travel to Kestal?” Chen Hao pressed her.

“Oh, that…” Mengyan waved her hand dismissively. “No special reason, really! We just finished the National Day holiday. I was busy, and so many people were traveling that I didn’t go anywhere. But after watching that magnificent and inspiring National Day parade, I suddenly wanted to see the beautiful landscapes of our country, to admire the natural scenery.”

When I was little, I’d been there once, but all my attention was on Uncle Chen—I never got a chance to properly look around. Now, with this rare opportunity, I thought of Kestal’s scenery, which is still quite untouched, even after years of development. That’s why I asked you to come with me!

Besides, I know you’ve always been curious about Kestal, haven’t you? To be precise, you’re not just interested in Kestal, but in any place Uncle Chen has been, right?

Other places are either big cities you’ve already visited, or unknown spots that are hard to reach. But Kestal is different! At least I’ve been there once, I know it well, so why not make it our first adventure?

When we get back from Kestal, we can trace Uncle Chen’s footsteps, visiting every place he has been—wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

“You’re bold to claim you know Kestal well. I bet you can’t even tell if it’s north or south,” Chen Hao teased.

“Oh, come on!” Mengyan waved her hand, embarrassed. “Just give me a straight answer—are you coming or not? I’ve decided: whether you go or not, I’m heading out, and Kestal is my first stop.

But… for a girl to travel so far, who knows how safe it is? What if I run into traffickers or wild animals—how thrilling would that be!”

She clearly said this for Chen Hao’s benefit, knowing how much he cared for her and deliberately trying to scare him.

“All right, all right!” Chen Hao raised his hands in surrender. “You win, little rascal! I’ll go with you. Honestly, I’ve been busy and tired lately, so this is a good chance to relax.”

“Hehe!” Mengyan smiled sweetly, grabbing Chen Hao’s hand and rubbing it against her cheek like a kitten begging for affection.

Chen Hao pulled his hand back and messed up her hair. “Finished eating? If so, let’s go! You’re grown up now, but still act like a child—if you’re not embarrassed, I am…”

“All right! Let’s hurry home, and stop by the office to ask for leave. This time of day, the HR department should still be open!” Mengyan nodded eagerly.

At this, Chen Hao suddenly paused. “Ask for leave…? Actually, there’s no need. I have another idea…”