Since Lu Zhanting’s thunderous defense of her by the water basin, Su Wanqing’s life in the military compound had become completely peaceful.
The looks of scrutiny and jealousy had vanished, replaced by awe and avoidance.
Whenever Aunt Li saw her now, she practically hugged the wall and detoured around her.
Sister-in-law Liu, on the other hand, had grown even warmer, sincerely treating her like family.
Su Wanqing’s days became so stable they almost felt luxurious.
She kept the small courtyard neat and tidy. In the vegetable patch nourished by the spatial spring water, tomatoes and cucumbers were already hanging with tender green fruit.
In the mornings, she woke to the sound of the bugle and prepared breakfast for Lu Zhanting.
In the evenings, the man would return on time, carrying with him the sharp scent of gunpowder and sweat.
They still didn’t talk much, yet a subtle, unspoken understanding had formed between them.
When she handed him a towel, he would naturally take the heavy items from her hands.
This home, born from a single contract, had somehow grown a genuine warmth amid the smoke and fire of everyday life.
That afternoon, Su Wanqing was watering the yard when the crisp ring of a bicycle bell approached from afar.
“Mail for Battalion Commander Lu’s family!”
Su Wanqing’s heart skipped.
A letter?
She hurried out. The postman handed her an envelope. “Comrade Su Wanqing, it’s from Hongqi Commune.”
Hongqi Commune.
Those four words made her breathing stall for a moment.
A letter from her natal family.
She held the thin envelope, the familiar texture brushing her fingertips. Yet her heart remained utterly calm—so calm it even curled into a faint sneer.
Since marrying into this family, this was the first letter.
Not to ask whether she was doing well—but because the time had come to “harvest.”
Back inside, she looked at the crooked handwriting of her mother, Liu Lan, on the envelope. Without the slightest hesitation, she tore it open.
The opening was exactly as expected—false concern and hollow warmth.
My dear Qingqing, seeing this letter is like seeing you in person. Are you doing well in the army? Your mother thinks of you day and night.
There was no warmth in Su Wanqing’s eyes.
She could almost see her mother sitting under a dim oil lamp, calculating how much she could squeeze out of her while writing these hypocritical lines.
Sure enough, the pretense of concern didn’t last more than three lines.
I hear the army is full of men, and the Battalion Commander you married has even been to the battlefield. His temperament must be rough, right? Does he hit or scold you? You’ve always been soft-hearted—if you suffer any grievances, be sure to tell your family.
Between the lines, there was no concern—only probing.
Probing her standing in this household. Probing whether she could control that man.
Expressionless, Su Wanqing turned the page.
The dagger was finally revealed.
Qingqing, you’re now a battalion commander’s wife—the most promising girl in our Su family. It’s just that… your younger brother, Su Wanqiang, is at the age to discuss marriage. The other side is asking for a high bride price: “three turns and one sound,” plus brand-new Dacron clothes.
You know the family’s situation. Your father is so worried about this that his old illness has flared up again.
Your mother truly has no other choice. Your husband is such a high-ranking officer—he must have plenty of allowances and ration coupons. Do you think you could… get some cloth coupons, industrial vouchers, and a bit of cash? This isn’t just for your brother—it’s for your father’s health, and for the Su family’s reputation!
Even if you’re married out, you’re still a daughter of the Su family. Your natal home is your true root—you can’t forget where you came from just because you’ve become an officer’s wife!
The letter ended abruptly.
Su Wanqing held the pages, her fingers slowly tightening until creases formed in the paper.
Every word was like a poison-tipped needle, stabbing into the memories of her previous life.
So that was it.
All the earlier concern had merely been buildup.
This was the real purpose.
They weren’t worried about her at all—they were worried about how much benefit her title as a “battalion commander’s wife” could bring the Su family.
Her brother’s marriage. Her father’s health. The family’s reputation.
All of it turned into shackles, binding her tightly and forcing her to go bleed Lu Zhanting dry.
The bitter irony churned in her stomach.
She had thought that marrying Lu Zhanting, cutting off entanglements and giving her family face, would be enough.
She was wrong.
Human greed is bottomless.
In their eyes, she had never been a daughter—only a tool that could be cashed out at any time.
The words “your natal family is your true root” were never meant to shelter her from the wind and rain, but to bind her in place and drain every last drop of blood from her body.
The tragedy of her previous life had begun with compromises just like this.
Reborn into a new life, those shackles had crossed time itself to lock onto her once more.
She carefully folded the letter, slid it back into the envelope, and sat there in silence.
The light in the room gradually dimmed. She sank into the shadows, like a blade drawn from its sheath yet not released—cold, sharp, and lethal.
Until the courtyard gate was pushed open, and steady, powerful footsteps approached.
Lu Zhanting was home.
The moment he entered, a soldier’s keen instincts told him something was wrong.
The lights were off.
There was no familiar aroma of food in the air—only a suffocating silence.
The slender figure that should have been waiting for him under the lamp now sat motionless at the dining table, like an ice sculpture.
“Wanqing?”
He spoke in a low voice and reached out to switch on the light.
The room brightened, illuminating Su Wanqing’s pale yet unnaturally calm face.
Lu Zhanting’s heart clenched sharply.
He strode over, his gaze falling on the envelope by her hand.
Without asking a single question, he turned to pour a cup of warm water and placed it in front of her. The warmth of his fingers carried an unquestionable reassurance.
“Something happened?” His voice was low, tightly restrained.
Su Wanqing lifted her head. There was no moisture in her beautiful eyes—only a cold detachment, as if she had seen through everything.
She extended her chilled fingers and pushed the letter toward him.
“My natal family,” she said softly, each word clear.
Lu Zhanting’s brows instantly knotted.
He picked up the letter and skimmed it at a glance.
As the pages turned, the aura around him grew increasingly oppressive. A storm gathered in his deep eyes.
When he reached the shameless demands at the end, the murderous intent he carried from the battlefield could no longer be contained.
Bang!
His palm slammed down on the table, the letter flying up before fluttering back down.
“Looking for death!”
Those two words were not forced out through clenched teeth—they carried real killing intent, cold enough to freeze a person solid.
The woman Lu Zhanting cherished in the palm of his hand, the one he feared might suffer even the slightest grievance, was nothing more than a tool to be exploited at will in the eyes of her so-called family!
Every single word in that letter stabbed at Su Wanqing’s heart—and at the same time ignited Lu Zhanting’s fury.
He lifted his gaze and looked at Su Wanqing.
There were no tears in the girl’s eyes, yet it made his chest feel even tighter than if she had been crying.
It was the icy numbness that came after being completely betrayed by one’s closest kin.
Lu Zhanting’s heart felt as if it were being crushed in an iron grip—heavy, stifling, and painful.
He walked around the table and stopped in front of her, then crouched down, his tall body lowering as he looked up at her.
He reached out with his calloused hand and firmly wrapped her icy fingers in his palm, forcefully pressing his warmth into her.
“Don’t be sad over them,” he said in a rough voice, yet with unprecedented seriousness. “That kind of thing isn’t worth it.”
Su Wanqing’s eyelashes trembled violently.
She looked at the man crouching before her, his face filled with undisguised anger and heartache.
That anger—was for her.
A scorching heat surged into her eyes, but she forced it back down.
“I’m not sad,” she said, her voice carrying a trace of self-mocking chill. “I’m just laughing at myself—for falling into the same pit in both my past and present lives.”
“What they’ve always wanted was never whether I lived well, but how much benefit I could bring them. In their eyes, I—their daughter—am worth less than a bride price.”
Lu Zhanting tightened his grip on her hand, as if he wanted to knead her into his very bones.
“You’re not a joke,” he said in a low, domineering voice, branding the words straight into her heart. “You are Su Wanqing. You are my wife. You are the mistress of this house.”
He stood up and looked down at her, every word heavy and resounding.
“Your home is here.”
“Your family—is me.”
“As for them…” He let out a cold, violent snort. “What the hell are they?”
Su—Wanqing—stared at him in a daze.
This man had dragged her out of the quagmire of her birth family in the most forceful and direct way, powerfully pulling her into his territory.
There were no soft words of comfort—only an unquestionable declaration.
With him there, she no longer needed to carry anything alone.
“Then this letter…” Su Wanqing glanced at the envelope on the table. She had already made her decision.
“Do whatever you want,” Lu Zhanting said without hesitation. “My money and ration coupons are for my wife alone. If anyone dares to reach out, I’ll chop off their hands! If the sky falls, I’ll hold it up for you!”
The words were crude and blunt, yet they struck like a bolt of thunder splitting through the gloom, instantly clearing Su Wanqing’s heart.
That’s right.
She was no longer the helpless Su Wanqing of her previous life.
She had a husband.
A husband who would rage for her, back her up, and stand on her side without conditions.
What was there left to fear?
Su Wanqing stood up. In her once-cold eyes, a sharp light reignited.
She could no longer be weak and yielding like before—bottomless compromise only bred bottomless greed.
She looked at Lu Zhanting, her gaze astonishingly firm.
“I’ve thought it through.”
“I’ll give them money. Otherwise, with my mother’s temperament, she’ll ruin my reputation across the entire commune. My father’s thin-skinned—he won’t be able to take it.”
“But they can’t be allowed to think I’m a treasure trove they can plunder at will.”
Su Wanqing walked to the desk and took out paper and pen.
“I’ll send twenty yuan and ten jin of national grain coupons.”
“The money is my wedding gift as a sister to my brother.”
“The grain coupons are my filial offering to my father.”
“As for cloth coupons or industrial vouchers—not a single bit.”
“I’ll also write a letter and make everything clear. This is the last time. From now on, if Su Wanqiang wants to marry and support a family, he should do it like a man—on his own—not by leeching off his sister. If they dare push further, then we won’t even keep this much sentiment between us!”
She would use this chance to sever ties completely—drawing a bloody, unmistakable line.
Lu Zhanting looked at the slender woman under the lamp, radiating a powerful presence, his eyes filled with blazing admiration.
This was his woman.
She could be hurt—but she would never drown in it.
She could stand up at the fastest speed, wipe away the blood, sharpen her claws, and deliver the fiercest counterattack.
“Good.”
He said only one word, yet it spoke more than a thousand others.
Outside, the night was dark as ink. Inside, the lights burned bright.
Su Wanqing sat beneath the lamp, writing swiftly.
She was no longer the girl bound by her birth family, but the mistress of this house—writing brand-new rules for herself and this home.
Lu Zhanting did not disturb her. He turned and went into the kitchen, reheated the long-cooled food, and set it beside her.
This battle—she would charge ahead.
And he—was her strongest, and only, support.