Lin Xiangdong looked at Fu Weicheng and Song Yuntang, who seemed to be in perfect unspoken agreement. Without another word, he immediately lowered his head.
He apologized sincerely, “Comrade, and this little friend, I’m sorry. I spoke too quickly and said nonsense. I didn’t mean it.”
Hearing the apology, Song Yuntang’s expression relaxed, and she no longer pursued the matter.
Fu Weicheng observed her reaction. Seeing that she was no longer holding onto it, he let the matter pass as well. He extended his hand toward Lin Xiangdong. “Give me the car keys.”
Lin Xiangdong handed over the jeep keys. “Regiment Commander Fu, are you driving? You’ve just been on such a long train ride—you must be tired. Let me drive instead.”
Fu Weicheng replied directly, “I’ll take the keys. Go ride in another vehicle.”
With that, he turned and left without giving Lin Xiangdong any time to react, leaving him standing alone in the early spring cold wind, completely disheveled.
…
With the screech of brakes, the jeep stopped at the entrance of the military district.
The journey from the train station had been long and bumpy. Along the way, Song Yuntang and the two children had fallen into a drowsy sleep. She sat in the middle, with Niannian and An’an leaning against her on either side. Their similar faces were pressed close together—a harmonious and warm scene.
After getting out of the car, Fu Weicheng opened the back door and saw this sight. His cold eyes softened silently, and for a moment, he couldn’t bear to wake them.
Song Yuntang stirred awake, rubbing her eyes as she murmured, “Are we there?”
“We’re here.”
The unfamiliar, magnetic male voice startled her fully awake. Her eyes widened like a startled cat’s as she looked at Fu Weicheng with clear wariness.
She still didn’t trust this man.
Fu Weicheng noticed the guarded look in her eyes, and for no reason, a trace of displeasure rose in his chest.
This woman was clearly his wife, and she had even borne him two children. Five years ago, she had been timid and afraid of him. Now, she was like a hedgehog, bristling defensively toward him. Was he really that unlikable?
Fu Weicheng frowned, irritation evident between his brows. Yet when he spoke, his voice remained steady.
“We need to talk,” he said, then reminded her, “The children are asleep. Keep your voice down.”
Thinking of the two children sleeping against her, Song Yuntang didn’t continue confronting him. She picked up An’an, while Fu Weicheng carried Niannian. The couple moved in surprising unison, each holding a child as they got out of the car. Then Fu Weicheng led Song Yuntang into the military office building.
When Fu Weicheng said he wanted to talk, he meant it.
He placed the sleeping Niannian and An’an in the lounge and asked the duty officer, Xiao Li, to look after them. He also instructed Xiao Li to inform him immediately if the children woke up.
Watching Fu Weicheng’s concern for the children, Song Yuntang reminded him, “Fu Weicheng, I came here to divorce you, not to follow you into the army. You don’t need to treat us so well.”
Fu Weicheng said nothing in response. He led her straight into his office, where they sat facing each other.
His dark eyes fixed on her as he asked directly, “Why do you want a divorce? I need to know the reason.”
Song Yuntang felt speechless. What a scumbag—after the original owner had been bullied to death in the countryside, he still had the nerve to ask why she wanted a divorce.
She spoke angrily, “You abandoned the three of us in the countryside for five years without care or support. You didn’t send a single cent, leaving us to fend for ourselves. We couldn’t even get enough to eat. Look at how thin Niannian and An’an are! Since having you is no different from not having you, what’s the point of keeping you as a husband? We might as well divorce.”
“But there’s one thing I need to make clear in advance. Even if we divorce, Niannian and An’an are your children. If you don’t believe it, you can do a paternity test. You must resolve their household registration and get them registered in the capital.”
Fu Weicheng listened to her demands, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. Only his dark eyes remained fixed on her as he continued asking,
“Do you have any other requests?”
Song Yuntang shook her head. “No. As long as you resolve the children’s household registration, Niannian and An’an will stay with me. I’ll raise them, and they’ll have nothing to do with you. Don’t worry—I won’t go back on my word or cling to you again. From now on, you’ll be your military officer, and I’ll be an ordinary citizen. We’ll have nothing to do with each other—”
“I don’t agree.”
Fu Weicheng’s brows tightened. In the end, he couldn’t hold back and interrupted her.
In a deep voice, he repeated word by word, “I do not agree to the divorce.”
As for letting Song Yuntang take the children and cutting off all ties—he disagreed with that even more.
But for now, he couldn’t say it outright. If he did, Song Yuntang would definitely explode.
Song Yuntang looked up in surprise and asked, “Why don’t you agree?”
Based on everything she knew, Fu Weicheng only had responsibility toward the original owner, not love. Wouldn’t it be best to cut things cleanly and end the marriage?
Fu Weicheng said, “I did not ignore you and the children. I didn’t know you had given birth to two children for me. When I went to look for you, they told me… you had died during childbirth.”
What?!
Song Yuntang’s eyes widened instantly. Died in childbirth? Who? Her?
Fu Weicheng had actually gone to look for her?!
She stared at him intently, trying to detect even a hint of guilt or deception. But there was none. He met her gaze calmly, without the slightest wavering.
“You weren’t dead?”
The words Fu Weicheng had blurted out on the train a few hours ago resurfaced in her mind.
Could it be that during those five years of “abandonment,” Fu Weicheng truly knew nothing?
Still full of doubts, Song Yuntang frowned and asked, “Five years ago, your father was rehabilitated, and you immediately returned to the capital. A month after you left, I became pregnant and wrote to you. Why didn’t you reply?”
“You wrote to me?” Fu Weicheng frowned, clearly puzzled. “I’m sorry. I never received the letter you mentioned.”
Never received it…?
At the time, the original owner had just become pregnant. Her already frail body was tormented by morning sickness, and she had to endure the village’s gossip. Gathering what little courage she had, she wrote to Fu Weicheng—telling him about the pregnancy and pleading with him, even if he didn’t love her, to at least send some money so she could survive.
But she waited… and waited…
And never received a reply.
Now, she was hearing the light, almost casual words “never received it” from Fu Weicheng himself.
Song Yuntang clenched her fists tightly. Her anger had reached its peak as she stared at him with questioning eyes.
“You say you didn’t receive it, so that’s it? I clearly sent that letter!”
The emotions of the original owner surged within her, and her eyes reddened uncontrollably.
Fu Weicheng’s expression shifted slightly. His voice softened. “You… don’t be upset. I can explain.”
He stood up and walked to his desk. From the first drawer, he took out a thick stack of documents and spoke in an orderly manner.
“Five years ago, when I returned to the capital, the situation wasn’t clear. I was worried there might still be danger here, so I didn’t bring you with me. Later, once things settled, I received urgent orders from my superiors to go to the Southwest Frontline. I didn’t have time to return and pick you up, so I wrote you a letter.”
“You wrote to me too?” Song Yuntang asked, frowning.
“Mm.” Fu Weicheng responded and handed her a registered mail receipt. “I sent it by registered mail, so there’s a receipt. Inside were my letter to you, two hundred yuan, and a train ticket to the capital. In the letter, I said that if you were willing, you could come to the capital to find my family. They would take care of you.”
Song Yuntang looked at the receipt in front of her. It had a precise date, the paper was old and faded, and there was an official postal stamp. None of it could be faked.
Fu Weicheng looked at her and asked, “Did you receive my letter?”
Song Yuntang: ……
She couldn’t answer.
Because in the original owner’s memories, there had never been such a letter—no two hundred yuan, and no train ticket to the capital.
Just moments ago, she had been the one questioning Fu Weicheng with righteous confidence.
Now, the one being questioned had become her.