Her voice was soft yet cold as she asked, "What are you doing here?"
Before, they could at least pretend to argue. Now, she couldn’t even be bothered to feign anything.
This blatant distance and resistance made Mr. Shen’s heart sink.
"Xiao Li said you were locked inside when you suddenly couldn’t breathe and just passed out. Did something happen in there?"
At his words, Song Yao fell silent.
Her mind was a complete blank, yet it also felt stuffed to the brim.
She had always known the military had solitary confinement, but she’d never been inside.
It was a place for locking up personnel who broke the rules, or so she’d heard.
Only after experiencing it firsthand today did she realize just how terrifying it was.
Four concrete walls, no windows.
The only door was bolted shut from the outside.
Once the door was locked, the walls seemed to close in, the space so small it was hard to breathe.
She managed to stay on her feet at first, but it wasn’t long before she started to feel dizzy.
The dim lighting only made things worse, plunging the room into near darkness.
A memory from her past life suddenly flashed through her mind.
She had woken up after her transmigration inside a coffin.
The feeling of being trapped was so similar she could hardly distinguish reality from memory.
No matter how she pounded on the walls or screamed, she couldn’t escape.
She only remembered that just as she felt her breath give out, the door opened a crack, and someone rushed in...
Snapping back to the present, Song Yao stared at Mr. Shen, her face devoid of expression.
"Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Why are you playing the saint now? I’m in this mess today all because of you."
Mr. Shen froze, rendered speechless.
If anyone else had dared to speak to him like that, he would have slammed the table and cursed them out by now.
But facing Song Yao, he couldn’t muster an ounce of anger.
Song Yao’s expression soured, clearly having no desire to deal with him.
"Whatever crime you want to pin on me, go right ahead. Don’t worry about getting in trouble if I die. My life is an extra one anyway. I shouldn’t even be alive in this world."
Her words struck Mr. Shen like a physical blow, his heart clenching painfully.
He gripped the armrests of his chair so tightly his knuckles turned white.
’It hurt so, so much.’
Thinking of the suffering she had endured all these years, a nameless rage flared in his chest.
’How dare they?’
"Don’t you dare say that! The ones at fault are those bastards! You shouldn’t be taking the fall for them!"
Song Yao frowned at him, a cold sneer twisting her lips.
"Did you take the wrong medicine today, Mr. Shen? This wasn’t your attitude at noon."
Just this afternoon, he had been giving her the cold shoulder.
She didn’t believe this sudden change of heart was born from genuine concern.
Mr. Shen was bursting with unspoken grievances but couldn’t explain himself.
He wanted to tell her he knew the truth.
But saying so would unravel too many secrets that had to be kept.
He was almost certain Song Yao was his biological daughter.
The timeline, from her childhood to the present, and the records from the hospital where she was born—it all added up.
But his superiors had given him a direct order: he was forbidden from disclosing any information.
They had even warned him that if he acknowledged her on his own, he would have to face the consequences alone.
Obeying orders was his duty.
But at this moment, for the first time, he hated his position.
’Dammit, what the hell was I thinking this afternoon!’
’If I had just held on for two more hours, waited for the official report to arrive...’
’I could have stood before her, out in the open, and called her my daughter.’
’Now, everything was ruined.’
’She’ll never trust me again.’
"Xiao Song, are you all right?"
Aunt Zhang came in, breaking the terribly tense atmosphere.
The first thing she did upon entering was sneak a peek at Mr. Shen’s face.
Seeing him with his head bowed, showing no signs of an outburst, she breathed a sigh of relief.
She then carefully navigated around the desk and placed a food container on it.
It was an old-fashioned, two-tiered aluminum container, wrapped in a blue-checkered cloth.
Her movements were deft as she unwrapped the cloth.
"You didn’t eat a single bite this afternoon. I made you some egg congee. Quick, eat it while it’s hot. Your health is what’s important!"
She spoke as she opened the lid with practiced ease.
The moment she lifted the lid a crack, the aroma eagerly escaped.
As soon as the lid came off, steam carrying the rich scent billowed out.
Song Yao’s nose tingled, and her eyes instantly reddened.
"Aunt Zhang, thank you."
’So much for my worthless father.’
’He’s quick enough to move his lips, but he can’t even provide a hot meal.’
’He’s worse than a stranger!’
She shot a sideways glance at Mr. Shen.
His face flushed, and he looked away in embarrassment.
Aunt Zhang had already helped her sit up and was now feeding her the congee, one spoonful at a time.
As she fed her, Aunt Zhang whispered,
"Slowly now, don’t choke. This is freshly made millet congee; it’s easy on the stomach."
Song Yao obediently opened her mouth, but her gaze kept drifting to the tall figure by the door.
Before long, Zhang Jianwei arrived.
"Sir, there’s a call from Beijing for you."
The matter on the other end of the line was urgent and couldn’t be delayed.
Mr. Shen looked at Song Yao.
"Finish your meal and get some rest. Once you’ve recovered a bit, there’s something I need to tell you."
Song Yao looked up, her tone calm.
"Since you’re not planning to kill me anymore, just let me go."
At these words, the spoon in Aunt Zhang’s hand froze mid-air.
"Child, you’re all alone. Where would you go?"
She set down the bowl and gently patted the back of Song Yao’s hand.
"Listen to your auntie. The matter has been cleared up, so just stay here and rest easy. Later, I’ll introduce you to a reliable young man here at the camp. Your life will be smooth sailing from then on. Wouldn’t that be nice?"
Seeing how genuinely Aunt Zhang was looking out for her, Song Yao couldn’t help but be moved.
But before she could reply, Mr. Shen spoke up.
"You can’t leave right now. As for why, I will give you an explanation."
With that, he didn’t linger, turning and heading for the door.
The door opened and closed with a soft click.
Only when he was long gone did Aunt Zhang dare to mutter quietly.
"Xiao Song, that Mr. Shen really has a short fuse. As soon as word got out that something had happened to you, everyone wanted to come visit. But he stopped them all, saying no one was to disturb your recovery. In the end, I was the only one allowed to bring you a hot meal."
"I can’t tell if he’s protecting you or just wary of you. I still haven’t figured it out."
Song Yao blinked, putting on an innocent and confused expression.
"Aunt Zhang, don’t you think it’s strange? This Mr. Shen glares at me and gives me the cold shoulder, but then he turns around and has people bring me food. What’s he after?"
She tilted her head, her tone deceptively innocent, but her eyes held a probing glint.
Aunt Zhang waved her hand.
"Who knows? It’s not like I can read his mind. But I’ve heard he’s extremely difficult to deal with, does everything according to his temper. He even talks back when his own superiors chew him out. My husband, Zhang, specifically warned me never to cross him, and that running into him is just our bad luck."
Just as she finished speaking, footsteps sounded at the door, and Xiao Li walked in.
Without a word, he pulled a small object from the left pocket of his uniform jacket.
He opened his hand, and the object fell onto the edge of the bed.
"This fell out when you collapsed. Mr. Shen asked me to give it back to you."
A flicker of light crossed Song Yao’s eyes as her gaze fell upon the small bracelet.
She remembered always keeping the bracelet tucked away safely against her skin.
Somehow it must have slipped into the folds of her clothes and fallen out when she fainted.
’Mr. Shen must have seen it.’
’That means he’s pretty much figured out where I come from.’
’But there’s no such thing as DNA testing yet. A guess alone doesn’t count for anything.’
’I’ll have to take this one step at a time.’