The next morning, Chen Jiayu got up early and went to his parents’ house nearby. He was planning to make breakfast, but his father had already returned from his morning exercise, bringing breakfast from a nearby street vendor, and they were already eating when he arrived.
Stepping into their apartment, he was greeted by the soft glow of morning light illuminating the living room, where his parents sat facing each other, sipping soy milk and eating fried dough sticks.
“Dad, Mom,” he called out, setting down his luggage.
Seeing him in his uniform, his mother, Cao Hui, knew he had a flying assignment today and beckoned him to join them, “Jiayu, come, sit down and eat quickly.”
Chen Jiayu had intended to say he would eat at the company, but he found it hard to refuse and settled into the chair.
Sipping on the soy milk and nibbling on pickles, his mother smiled and called him affectionately, “Jiajia, you look tired. Didn’t sleep well last night?” Perhaps she noticed his dark circles or sensed his fatigue. It could be simply acknowledging his early visit despite having a busy workday. He knew his mother had always been keen and observant, traits he believed he inherited from her.
Setting down the cup in his hand, he looked at her. “Well, I finally flew to Hong Kong yesterday.” He didn’t intend to hide anything.
This caught his father, Chen Zheng’s attention, “How was the flight?”
Chen Jiayu nodded, “It went fine.” And that was the truth; from a flying performance standpoint, it was a completely normal flight without any hiccups.
“You’re under a lot of pressure. We understand.” His mother seemed to grasp it all at once.
Putting down his chopsticks, Chen Jiayu gave his mother a long look. Silence settled over the table until Chen Zheng asked him, “Are you flying again today?”
Chen Jiayu confirmed that he was.
Cao Hui reached out and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. It was a simple gesture of comfort, but her hand lingered. Eventually, Cao Hui stood up, walked behind Chen Jiayu, and leaned down to hug him.
“It’s okay. Everything will pass. Jiayu, you must believe in yourself.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Chen Jiayu tensed up. He was having trouble holding onto the chopsticks. His pulse was racing, torn between feelings of relief and anguish. It was too soon, far too soon. He barely ate a few bites before saying he was running late. Bidding his parents goodbye, he grabbed his bag and left.
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He had once sworn not to shed tears over his mother’s illness, believing that a man should not easily show his emotions. He had only felt deep sympathy for her during her most painful and difficult moments. He had tried everything to help alleviate her suffering, taking time off work to accompany her on trips or bring her favorite foods, but he had never been so heartbroken. But now, unbelievably, a single hug had nearly shattered his defenses.
Throughout his more than thirty years of life, he couldn’t help but feel that there had been too few moments of genuine joy, as if happiness had rarely visited him. His mother, Cao Hui, was one of those rare sources of happiness, perhaps the only person who loved him unconditionally. Yet, it seemed cruel of fate to want to take her away so soon.
—
On the second departure from Beijing to Hong Kong, Chen Jiayu was in a foul mood. He even considered calling the company, claiming he had a high fever and couldn’t go to work. But the pre-flight briefing was only two hours away. He knew better than anyone how inconvenient it would be if he suddenly backed out now.
The company would have to wake up numerous captains who were supposed to be on rest, ask if they could be ready within an hour, and then wait until a captain confirmed. They would have to do all that just because Chen Jiayu decided at the last minute that he couldn’t fly due to a high fever with only two hours notice. And o h, and it happened to be the flight to Hong Kong!
So, after a brief consideration, he reluctantly decided to proceed with the flight as scheduled.
For a long time afterward, Chen Jiayu would deeply come to regret that decision.
—
Flying requires absolute rationality and judgment. He forced himself to separate emotions from reason, silently reciting procedural steps, which indeed helped him maintain a much calmer mindset. When he stepped into the cockpit, his feelings were no different from when he flew with Xu Hengchuan yesterday. The only difference was that his co-pilot today was another relatively unfamiliar face, Duan Jingchu.
Duan Jingchu was quite friendly, addressing him as “Brother Jia”, but after about fifteen minutes of flying with him, Chen Jiayu began to feel a bit strained.
It began when they were leaving Beijing, where heavy traffic caused them to queue on the taxiway for almost ten minutes. Chen Jiayu was the pilot in command. After completing the checklist, Duan Jingchu unexpectedly signaled for the flight attendant, Kong Xinyi, to come in.
Kong Xinyi was strikingly beautiful and reputedly recognized as one of the top ten beauties voted internally within the company. Chen Jiayu vaguely remembered her; they had flown together once before. As they stepped into the cockpit, he saw Duan Jingchu’s hand resting on Kong Xinyi’s shoulder, saying something to her. Chen Jiayu assumed they were a couple—it wasn’t uncommon in such situations, even though Duan Jingchu was somewhat plain-looking. Flight crews often paired up. However, as he approached and overheard their conversation, he realized they were clearly not acquainted, and Kong Xinyi seemed uncomfortable.
To Chen Jiayu’s surprise, Duan Jingchu had called Kong Xinyi over, seemingly just for a chat.
“Xinyi, where did you say you live?” Duan Jingchu asked.
Kong Xinyi, not wanting to offend him, replied, “Near the airport. Many of my colleagues live there, too.”
Duan Jingchu turned, his hand even bolder this time, directly resting on Kong Xinyi’s forearm. She tensed up.
“Your bracelet looks really nice. Where did you buy it?” Duan Jingchu inquired.
Kong Xinyi’s hand tightened. “In… in Bali. First Officer Duan, there’s a passenger request I need to attend to,” she said, her voice slightly shaky.
Finally, unable to remain silent any longer, Chen Jiayu called out, “We’re still on the taxiway.” He knew that from the moment the aircraft began moving, the crew should focus solely on the flight. Numerous accidents had occurred due to crews being distracted by conversation during taxiing. Recognizing this risk, regulatory departments like the FAA had even created the “Sterile Cockpit, Below 10,000 Feet” rule, prohibiting any non-flight-related communication below 10,000 feet altitude. This rule was also incorporated into domestic regulations.
Duan Jingchu chuckled, releasing Kong Xinyi, who quickly exited the cockpit.
He looked at Chen Jiayu with a sheepish grin. “Brother Jia, unlike you, I don’t often get the chance to interact with such beauties. Really sorry about that.”
The look on Duan Jingchu’s face made Chen Jiayu feel a bit queasy, but he suppressed it and calmly replied, “No need to apologize to me. Kong Xinyi clearly isn’t interested. It’s better if you focus on flying. The checklist is done, but you haven’t removed your co-pilot’s hat yet.”
Duan Jingchu dared not say anymore. He knew Chen Jiayu wouldn’t buy into it.
—
At the smoking area next to the Beijing Daxing Tower, Fang Hao and Wang Yuan smoked cigarettes in silence. Chu Yirou mentioned that they had been busy with approaches and area control recently. Which was true.
It was probably two days ago when Guo Zhifang went into premature labor and was rushed to the hospital. In such an urgent situation, Guo Zhifang didn’t even inform her parents while en route to the hospital; instead, she immediately had her husband call the tower. She was supposed to have the night shift that evening, so the call was directed to Fang Hao’s cell phone.
Fang Hao had already been on a night shift the previous night from midnight until 8 am in the morning. Night shifts already disrupted the body’s normal rhythms, and concentrating for eight hours straight during a night shift was mentally exhausting. It requires a longer recovery time compared to daytime shifts. His original schedule was to have the entire next day off and then have a normal shift the following day. However, to cover for Guo Zhifang, he only had a few hours of rest before starting at night again, and then a day later, he would have another night shift. So, in total, he worked three consecutive nights without a day off.
“How did the call with sister Guo go?” Wang Yuan asked, noticing his tired appearance. They had been smoking in silence for about five minutes, and Wang Yuan, who usually didn’t like to talk much, broke the silence.
Fang Hao had smoked heavily during his night shifts; with a slightly hoarse voice, he said, “Got a call from her husband yesterday, said both mother and child are safe. Truly happy for her. It had not been easy,” he added with a genuine smile.
“That’s good to hear. But it’s going to be tough on you guys. What about the next two months?” Wang Yuan remarked.
Guo Zhifang had planned everything well, even arranging for a new trainee controller to join while she was on maternity leave. However, the early arrival of the baby disrupted all plans. With her absence, the responsibility of Daxing Approach would fall on Fang Hao, and it seemed like everyone would be stretched thin for the next two months.
Fang Hao sighed, “It’s just how things are. The most important thing is that everything is fine with Sister Guo. As for work, Fu Zixiang and I can handle a bit more if needed.”
Wang Yuan nodded, “How’s your report coming along?”
Fang Hao took a deep drag of his cigarette, “Haven’t even started. Director Yan wants it by Friday this week.” He wasn’t in a good mood. Besides being on night duty, he also had to tackle a report on the four-minute radar failure. Writing reports wasn’t new to him; throughout the year, there were always a few special situations to deal with. Whether handled well or not, reports had to be written. Even though the cause of the incident wasn’t his fault, being scrutinized by the leadership and having a bunch of minor mistakes picked out of the eggshell made him feel a lot of pressure and irritation. Initially, he had planned to take Thursday off before starting, but he decided it was better to deal with it sooner rather than later.
As they talked, it started to drizzle outside. Wang Yuan grimaced, “Great, the forecast says there will be heavy rain tonight. It looks like it’s going to be another restless evening.” He gave Fang Hao’s shoulder a reassuring pat, “Don’t stress too much. We’ve all had our fair share of nagging from Director Yan. Once you submit the report, he probably won’t even glance at it, just stash it away in his desk drawer.”
Fang Hao nodded, then shook his head. While he understood the rationality of it, it was hard not to take it personally. Revisiting those fatal four minutes, reliving the panic, uncertainty, and helplessness of the blackout, and reevaluating every decision he had made? That’s a demanding and draining process. Fang Hao was already very demanding of himself, regardless of whether Director Yan was seeking to find fault or not. He always thought he could do better, be a bit better, a bit more perfect.
The harsh weather posed a challenge to their command work. With low visibility and poor ground conditions, some aircraft couldn’t land and needed to go around, significantly increasing the controller’s workload. Despite the dual-station setup allowing the on-duty controllers a brief respite for water, restroom breaks, or a quick smoke, as soon as they noticed the rain, they returned to their positions without exchanging more than a few words.
Fang Hao hoped for nothing more than to quickly and safely finish this night shift so he could go home, spend a couple of hours working on the report, and then get a good night’s sleep.
But things didn’t go as planned. Right at this critical moment, something went wrong.
Translator note: 2nd chapter! One more chapter will be coming in the coming days. 🙂
I’m anxious for the both of them! Facing such problems at work, at such a job, sure is tough.
Thank you for the chapter!
Now I’m stressed too! (;ŏ﹏ŏ)
Thank You for the new chapter ( ꈍᴗꈍ)❤️
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh🛬💥🚨
Thanks for the update, looking forward to the next one.💕
Happy Easter 🥚🐇
We readers are feeling stressed along with them. I understand how helpless one would feel when things are just not going well at work and you still have to show up because you’re getting paid and there are responsibilities and commitments waiting to be paid.
Adulting can be really exhausting with some rainbow-coloured-sprinkles of f*ckery. 🌈
Adulting is very hard… They are all overword and stressed at this point.