Only I Understand His Gentle Heart - Chapter 1.1

In April, unexpected snow blanketed Beicheng, and the temperature dropped sharply.

In the windy, cold weather, Ming Zhu wrapped herself tightly in her coat as she hurried past her neighborhood’s mailroom. The mailroom owner spotted her and called out, “Miss Ming! You’ve got a package!”

She stopped, turned around to retrieve it, and replied, “Thank you.”

Back at home, she took one look at the package label and immediately knew what it was—a qipao her grandma had sent her. Ming Zhu’s grandma was a skilled craftswoman from the Jiangnan region, renowned for her exquisite Suzhou embroidery—a gentle, intricate art form, where each stitch produces a masterpiece. Her grandmother had been mastering this craft since she was young and had spent her entire life refining her skills.

As she opened the package and lifted the qipao from the gift box, she couldn’t help but smile. It was beautiful.

Though her home was still chilly since the heat had been turned off, she considered trying it on, but just then, her phone rang. It was Tang Xin.

“Did the qipao arrive?” Tang Xin asked.

“Yes, I got it.”

“This one was specially tailored by Master Lin. Your grandma thought the slit was scandalously high and wouldn’t agree to it. If I hadn’t stopped her, she might’ve sewn it up a few more inches,” Tang Xin laughed.

Ming Zhu chuckled too. “Thank goodness she didn’t! Otherwise, I’d have to cut it open myself.”

Her grandma often teased that wearing qipaos all year round would cause Ming Zhu to have sore knees when she got older. So, every time she embroidered a pattern on Ming Zhu’s qipaos, she would lower the slit a few inches. Ming Zhu didn’t want to argue, knowing her grandma would just scold her, so she would quietly cut it open herself later, careful not to let her grandma find out.

Tang Xin laughed, “By the way, I heard there’s snow and rain in Beicheng right now. It must be freezing! Who knows when you’ll actually get to wear that qipao.”

“I’m freezing! People online are joking that they survived winter just to nearly freeze to death in spring.”

Tang Xin laughed. “Alright, I’ll wait for the weather to warm up before I come back.”

Ming Zhu glanced at the soft-colored qipao in her hands. The intricate stitching at the neckline was so delicate and beautiful that she traced her fingers along it, lost in thought for a moment before setting it down. “I’m heading back home at the end of the month.”

“Why?” Tang Xin asked curiously.

“To visit my grandma.”

“You didn’t want to go with me when I invited you earlier,” Tang Xin grumbled. They had been high school friends, and a few days ago, Tang Xin had invited her to travel together, but Ming Zhu had said she was busy.

Ming Zhu took off her coat and found her pajamas, preparing to take a hot shower before she dove back into working on her script. “Our schedules didn’t match up, that’s all. You’ll be back soon, so we’ll talk more then.”

After hanging up, Ming Zhu took a warm shower, but she couldn’t resist slipping into the qipao afterward to try it on.

She twirled in front of the mirror and sighed contentedly.

Beautiful. It really was beautiful.

When Tang Xin came back to town, Ming Zhu drove out to pick her up. She finally arrived around five in the afternoon, and they had a dinner engagement that evening.

As Tang Xin settled into the passenger seat, she asked, “What time did Director Jiang set the meeting for?”

“Six-thirty.”

Ming Zhu fastened her seatbelt and started the car. Knowing it was rush hour, she felt a bit nervous about running late.

Tang Xin, less bound by time, leaned back in her seat. “Honestly, I feel like hotpot tonight.”

Ming Zhu, focusing on the road, overtook a car and replied absent-mindedly, “Another time. We’re meeting with the director tonight, and we might even have a quick meeting afterward.”

…

Dinner was secondary; the main purpose was to discuss the script for a new movie, Counterterrorism. With support from the Ministry of Public Security and military authorities, the film was a serious military project. Tang Xin specialized in lighthearted, romantic scripts, but Ming Zhu, a gentle beauty from Jiangnan, was known for writing gritty, masculine roles. Her male leads were all steely and tough, yet sometimes they lacked a touch of tenderness, which was why the production team had invited Tang Xin as a collaborator.

By the time they reached the restaurant, they were twenty minutes late. Fortunately, Director Jiang and the rest of the team didn’t seem to mind and welcomed them warmly. “Traffic got you?”

“Yes, it was terrible,” Tang Xin replied quickly.

Everyone chuckled, diving into their meal and discussing the script in between bites. Toward the end of the meal, Director Jiang mentioned, “Next month, we’ll probably arrange for everyone to spend some time with the troops to gain some insight and gather inspiration.”

Everyone paused. Tang Xin froze and asked bluntly, “We won’t have to train, will we?”

Director Jiang cleared his throat, “Probably not. It’s more for observation and to help everyone gain some understanding of the environment.”

Tang Xin’s eyes narrowed. “Probably?”

The director turned to Ming Zhu and said, “Ming Zhu, you must be pretty familiar with military life, right?”

Most people who knew Ming Zhu were somewhat aware of her background. While her father held an official position, her brother was an Air Force captain, so it was no surprise that her military-themed stories felt realistic and authentic.

Ming Zhu smiled gently. “Not really. I actually don’t visit military bases often.”

When she was young, her father hadn’t been stationed in Beicheng; he was in Suzhou, and she had spent most of her time in the town with her grandmother. Her father was only transferred later on when she was in middle school, but she chose to stay with her grandmother until she moved to Beicheng for college. Living in a military compound for a few years, surrounded by two servicemen, certainly influenced her taste in men.

But the person who had the most profound effect on her?

A rugged, rough-around-the-edges man with an iron will.

She was hopelessly infatuated with him, dreaming of marrying him ever since she was a teenager.