Under the dim yellow light, Lu Tingchuan’s deep eyes looked like two bottomless pools.
He stood there silently watching Lin Nian. The usual coldness in his gaze was gone, replaced by a trace of… awkward stubbornness.
But Lin Nian’s heart twisted sharply because of that look.
Not from being moved.
From disgust.
A deep, instinctive, rational revulsion.
Hypocrite.
Such a hypocrite.
This was the man who, in the book, had watched her and her child die without blinking, who had abandoned them without hesitation for another woman.
And now he was here, pretending to be gentle and considerate. What exactly did he think he was doing?
Did he think she was still that foolish girl from five years ago—someone who would be spun in circles by just one glance from him?
Lin Nian felt her stomach churn violently.
She yanked her wrist back, as if she had touched something filthy, and took a large step backward to put distance between them.
Her movements were cold and decisive.
“Commander Lu.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but every word was like an ice-forged blade stabbing straight into him.
“This is my home. A widow’s home.”
“It’s the middle of the night, and you—a high-ranking commander—came into a widow’s courtyard to wash her pots and pans. If word gets out, people who don’t know better might think there’s something improper between us.”
A mocking smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
“I’m just a worthless country woman. I don’t care.”
“But you’re different. You’re a celebrated war hero with a bright future. You even have a fiancée as well-matched as Doctor Bai. If you ruin your reputation because of someone like me, wouldn’t that be such a waste?”
She deliberately mentioned Bai Yueru. Every word was a reminder to him—and to herself—that the distance between them was already a chasm.
“So please respect yourself.”
“And please leave my home. Immediately.”
Her words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over Lu Tingchuan’s head.
The warm feeling that had risen in him after seeing her struggle so hard was instantly frozen solid.
He slowly stood up, his tall figure casting a long shadow over Lin Nian.
Water droplets dripped from his wrist, trailing down the clean cuff of his white shirt before hitting the ground with soft taps.
“Widow?”
He repeated the word. His voice was unbearably hoarse, as if scraped by sandpaper.
“You keep calling yourself a widow.”
He took one step toward her, an overwhelming pressure crashing down on her.
“Lin Nian, I want to ask you something!”
He snapped.
The man known for being calm and composed completely lost control in front of her for the first time.
He suddenly reached out, grabbed her wrist, and his grip was so tight it felt like he wanted to crush her bones.
His eyes were bloodshot, like a provoked beast. He growled at her:
“Who the hell are you keeping widowhood for?!”
“Who is that man?! What’s his name?! What gives him the right for you to bear his child and still stay loyal to him?!”
For the past five years, he had imagined her life without him countless times.
He thought she might remarry. He thought she might suffer.
But he had never imagined… that she would have another man’s child, and willingly “remain faithful” to that man.
The thought alone made jealousy and rage burn through him, nearly destroying his sanity.
A sharp pain shot through Lin Nian’s wrist from his grip.
His familiar masculine scent—mixed with faint tobacco—surrounded her completely, suffocating her.
Her body instantly froze.
Then a surge of overwhelming nausea rushed up her throat.
This hand.
The memories from the book flooded back like a tidal wave—this was the hand that had once pushed away her desperate pleas without mercy.
This was the embrace that held Bai Yueru, yet ignored his own child.
Scene after scene of bloody memories overlapped with the jealous, twisted face staring at her now.
“Let go of me!”
Lin Nian screamed, unable to hide the fear and disgust in her voice.
She struggled wildly, like a fish thrown onto land, using every ounce of her strength.
“Don’t touch me!”
Her struggle only enraged Lu Tingchuan further.
Instead of loosening his grip, he yanked her closer, as if he wanted to crush her into his arms.
“Say it! Who is that man?!”
“Mom!”
“Bad guy! Let go of my mom!”
Beside them, Lu An and Lu Ning were terrified. Crying, they rushed over and used their tiny fists to hit Lu Tingchuan’s leg with all their might.
The children’s cries stabbed into Lin Nian’s ears like needles.
She looked at this furious, contorted man—a man interrogating her like a jealous husband—and felt only utter, absolute absurdity.
Who did he think he was?
What right did he have?
A wave of strength burst out of nowhere.
Lin Nian suddenly raised her free hand and shoved Lu Tingchuan in the chest with all her strength.
He wasn’t prepared and staggered backward two full steps.
His grip finally loosened.
Lin Nian instantly pulled her children behind her, shielding them like a mother wolf guarding her cubs. Her eyes were filled with pure hatred as she stared at him like he was a piece of trash.
Her chest heaved violently. Her eyes were cold and merciless.
She looked at him and spoke, each word dripping blood:
“Who that man is—what does it have to do with you?”
“And no—I wasn’t being faithful to you, Lu Tingchuan.”
Watching his face turn deathly pale, she let out a cold, cruel smile filled with bitter satisfaction.
“And.”
“Commander Lu, from now on, stay away from me.”
“Don’t touch me again.”
“I think you’re… filthy.”
The last three words were spoken lightly and slowly.
But they were like three razor-sharp knives, stabbing straight into Lu Tingchuan’s heart—precise, merciless, and cruelly twisted.
Time seemed to freeze completely.
The wind stopped.
Even the children’s crying stopped.
The world fell silent.
Lu Tingchuan stood there motionless, as if all the strength and soul had been drained from his body.
The fire that always burned in his eyes dimmed little by little—until only a hollow, ash-like despair remained.
Filthy…
She said she thought he was filthy.