The Young Miss Refuse To Love-Chapter 100: Military tradition

In a room shrouded in darkness, without the faintest glimmer of sunlight, Song Chengfeng stepped out of the bathroom, his shower freshly concluded.

A white towel hung loosely around his hips, the only thing shielding him from complete exposure. Droplets of water trailed from his damp hair, cascading down his lean frame as he moved towards the bedside table.

He picked up his phone, the screen illuminating his otherwise shadowed features. A faint smile, so rare and fleeting, graced his expressionless face when his eyes landed on the first notification. Which was a text from Qi Jianyi.

The message was simple, yet it meant everything to him: I’m still here. Alive and well.

It had become a morning ritual for him to check in on her, using the excuse of inquiring about her health. In truth, it was less about her well-being and more about the reassurance that she hadn’t vanished from his life.

Typing a brief, characteristic okay, he sent his reply before setting the phone back on the table. The other notifications remain unread, unworthy of his attention.

For Song Chengfeng, there was only one person whose messages mattered.

As he brushed his damp hair with one hand, he strolled into the dressing room. If Qi Jianyi could see him now, perhaps she would finally understand the truth—that Song Chengfeng hadn’t truly changed.

She often teased him for transforming from a cold, distant figure into someone shamelessly persistent.

Yet the reality was far simpler: the man she knew—the one who smiled, listened, and sometimes annoyed her on purpose—was a version of himself reserved for her alone.

To the rest of the world, Song Chengfeng remained stoic, indifferent, his usual detached self who barely cared enough to blink at anyone else’s existence. He rarely spoke and even more rarely listened.

Only Qi Jianyi could compel him to sit quietly, to give his undivided attention, though it was often filled with her exasperated reactions to his words.

With anyone else, he wouldn’t bother. But with her, he wanted to give her everything, even if it was a side of himself he hadn’t shown before.

After finishing dressing, Song Chengfeng left his dark, secluded bedroom and entered the living room. Unlike his bedroom, hidden away from the sun’s embrace, the living room was flooded with light.

The absence of curtains allowed the morning rays to stream in unhindered, illuminating every corner of the space.

Despite the sudden contrast between the dimness of his room and the brightness outside, Song Chengfeng didn’t so much as blink.

His sharp eyes, accustomed to navigating through the darkest of nights, weren’t easily fazed by something as simple as daylight.

Making his way to the kitchen, he contemplated preparing breakfast. The house itself, modest compared to the grand mansions of others in his social circle, looked as unremarkable as ever.

Though spacious enough, it lacked warmth or a sense of personality, almost as if it were a temporary lodging rather than a home.

Even after living here for nearly a year, the place remained sparsely furnished, its emptiness reflecting his own indifference toward material comforts.

To Song Chengfeng, this house served one purpose: shelter.

It was merely a space for sleeping and eating, devoid of any sentimental value or emotional connection.

As he idly considered what to make for breakfast, the sharp sound of the doorbell echoed through the quiet house. Song Chengfeng paused, his thoughts interrupted by the unexpected visitor.

Placing the eggs back onto the counter, Song Chengfeng headed toward the door. He didn’t bother checking the monitor to see who it was.

After all, only a handful of people knew about his current residence, so he assumed there was no need for caution.

However, as he opened the door, he instantly regretted that decision. Standing before him was the one person he had forgotten to account for—his own mother, Xu Xiaoran, known more formally as Mrs. Song.

Clad in an elegant coat and carrying a handbag that matched her polished demeanor, Mrs. Song looked every bit the formidable matriarch she was.

Her sharp eyes scanned him briefly, and her lips curled into a small smile. But that smile wasn’t one of warmth; it was the kind that warned him trouble was brewing.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Song Chengfeng asked bluntly, his tone devoid of any warmth.

Mrs. Song, seeing the familiar stoic expression on her son’s face, rolled her eyes dramatically.

"What? A mother can’t visit her only son? Look at you—standing there like a stone, not even inviting me in! Honestly, what was the point of giving birth to you if you’re just going to be so ungrateful?" she huffed, crossing her arms in mock indignation.

Her words, while sharp, carried no real malice. It was clear she was just teasing, though the effort to mask her underlying concerns was evident.

Without responding to her theatrics, Song Chengfeng stepped aside, silently allowing her to enter.

"You already came yesterday," he said curtly once she was inside.

Mrs. Song stepped into the house as she gave him a light tap on the chest with her palm. "And so what if I did?" she retorted, a perfunctory smile tugging at her lips.

She then walked to the couch in the living room with the air of someone who owned the place.

"I’m your mother, Chengfeng, and you’re my only son. Can’t a mother visit without needing a reason? Or are you really planning to erase us all from your life?" she asked as she sank into the couch.

Her final words carried a faint trace of sadness, her carefully composed expression faltering for just a moment.

Despite her playful accusations, it was clear she was genuinely affected by his recent distance. As much as she tried to act nonchalant, the thought of her son drifting away stung deeply.

He was her only child, and yet he had inherited so much of his father’s cold and aloof demeanor. Unlike other children who might express their love openly, her son rarely, if ever, showed affection.

It was a quality she both admired and resented.

Remembering how much her son resembled her husband, Mrs. Song murmured softly, almost to herself, "Why are you so much like your father?"

The words weren’t meant for him to hear, but they reached Song Chengfeng clearly. He paused for a moment, sensing the faint sadness that laced her voice.

Without replying, he sighed lightly and walked toward the kitchen, deciding to prepare some drinks for her.

He had known for a long time that his aloofness was one of his mother’s greatest worries. She constantly reminded him to smile more, to open up to people, to make friends.

Her fears stemmed from a place of love—she didn’t want her only child to live a life of solitude.

But for young Song Chengfeng, her endless nagging about socializing had the opposite effect. It pushed him to seek a way out, a path that would grant him the peace he so desperately craved.

That path, ironically, led him into the military.

At the time, he didn’t fully understand the weight of his decision. For him, joining the military wasn’t about duty or honor—it was simply a means to escape. To escape his mother’s expectations, her constant pleas to befriend the world.

He never anticipated how deeply his choice would hurt her.

Mrs. Song, as a soldier’s wife, had endured years of pain and sacrifice. She knew better than most the reality of being married to a man whose heart belonged first to his country. Family came second.

Her own marriage to Song Chengjun had been arranged, a promise exchanged between their families—a tradition still common during their time.

When they first married, Song Chengjun was entirely consumed by his career. Missions and military duties came before everything else, leaving Mrs. Song to navigate life alone for long stretches of time.

His unwavering dedication to the military had taken its toll on their relationship. He returned home battered and bruised after countless missions, but his focus never wavered. His country always came first.

It took them five long years to finally have a child. The joy of welcoming Song Chengfeng into their lives was indescribable for Mrs. Song, but it was bittersweet.

She had hoped her son would choose a different path, a life where he could prioritize happiness over duty.

Yet, much like his father, Song Chengfeng seemed destined to follow the same arduous journey.

The first time Song Chengfeng saw his mother shed tears for him, he realized he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

Yet, despite the overwhelming guilt and regret of causing her pain, he couldn’t turn back from the path he had chosen. His decision was not just his own; it carried the weight of his grandfather’s expectations.

In truth, Song Chengfeng’s fate had been decided the moment he was born into a family steeped in military tradition.

His grandfather, a decorated war hero, firmly believed that the Song family’s legacy was one of honor and sacrifice. A male descendant of their lineage was destined to serve, no matter the personal cost.

But it was his father, General Song Chengjun, who defied this notion. At the peak of his career, General Song was a highly respected figure, admired by military chiefs and politicians alike.

Yet, when it came to his son, he adamantly opposed the idea of Song Chengfeng following in his footsteps.

Unlike his father before him, General Song refused to impose the burdens of military service on his child. Despite his own devotion to the military, he had seen the toll it took on his wife.

For years, she had to suppress her emotions, bottling up her resentment and sorrow while presenting a stoic front to the world.

General Song knew her suffering, even if she rarely spoke of it. He saw the nights she sat alone by the window, waiting for news of his safe return. He understood the sacrifices she made for him, for their family, for the country. Though he couldn’t undo the past, he tried, in his own silent way, to comfort her.

When she became pregnant, their strained relationship began to heal. Song Chengfeng’s impending arrival was like a light breaking through their shared sorrow.

For the first time, General Song put his family before his duty. He rejected multiple missions, choosing instead to command from the rear, where the danger was less immediate.

Every decision General Song made during that time was for his wife and unborn child. For the first time since taking his military oath, he allowed himself to prioritize his family over his country.

Mrs. Song saw this shift, and though it didn’t erase the years of pain, it softened the edges of her resentment.

Song Chengfeng’s birth wasn’t just the arrival of a new life—it was the bridge that mended their broken relationship.

Yet now, years later, the same child who had brought them together was following the very path General Song had fought so hard to protect him from.

It appeared that the son of the Song family was destined to follow in his ancestors’ footsteps and defend the nation.

Despite General Song’s tireless efforts to break this cycle, his attempts only seemed to deepen the inevitability of it.

Ironically, although General Song and his wife did everything in their power to steer their son away from a military path. However, because of their constant worrying about his lack of expression ended up being the very reasons Song Chengfeng decided to enlist in the military.

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