“It wasn’t me!” Su Wantang screamed, tears bursting from her eyes. “I really didn’t do it! Sister, please believe me. How could I do something like that? I didn’t even know what the medicine was…”
“Then how do you explain this?”
Suddenly, Su Wanrou grabbed her wrist with astonishing strength. She yanked up Su Wantang’s sleeve, exposing a small patch of faint reddish marks on the inside of her arm that were almost faded away.
“What is this?” Su Wanrou asked, her voice cold as ice. “A mosquito bite? An allergic reaction? Or…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but Su Wantang knew exactly what she meant.
The marks had been left behind by prolonged exposure to the Spirit Spring water.
That night, she had repeatedly entered and exited the space, carrying the spring water out with her body to treat Lu Zhanye’s wounds. Her arm had remained submerged in the spring for so long that these pale red traces had appeared on her skin.
A month had passed, and they still hadn’t completely disappeared.
“I… I don’t know…” Su Wantang hurriedly pulled her arm back and tugged her sleeve down to hide the marks. “Maybe I didn’t rinse the soap off properly while washing clothes…”
“Soap?” Su Wanrou laughed. “Su Wantang, do you think I’m an idiot?”
She stepped forward until they were nearly touching.
The morning mist curled around them like a thin veil, but it couldn’t conceal the emotions surging in each other’s eyes.
“You were at the threshing ground that night, weren’t you?” Su Wanrou asked, enunciating every word. “What happened between you and Lu Zhanye?”
Su Wantang trembled from head to toe. Tears blurred her vision.
She wanted to deny it.
To run.
To scream.
But it felt as though someone had wrapped a hand around her throat. Not a single sound would come out.
She could only stare into Su Wanrou’s eyes and watch the suspicion there deepen—
Along with hatred.
Yes.
Hatred.
Though carefully concealed, Su Wantang saw it.
It was the hatred accumulated from a previous life, hatred that had sunk deep into the bones.
“Not talking?” Su Wanrou suddenly released her and stepped back. The gentle, graceful expression returned to her face. “That’s all right. If little sister doesn’t want to say anything, then I won’t ask.”
She turned around, her back facing Su Wantang, and spoke lightly:
“But there’s something I think you should know. Lu Zhanye’s unit has sent word. His injuries have mostly healed, and in three days he’ll be returning to report back to the army. Before he leaves, the village secretary plans to hold a farewell gathering.”
Su Wantang’s heart tightened.
“At the farewell gathering, Lu Zhanye will publicly thank his ‘life-saving benefactor.’” Su Wanrou glanced back and smiled. “Who do you think he should thank? Me—the one who supposedly stayed by his side all night and saved him with a folk remedy?”
She paused, her gaze dropping to Su Wantang’s stomach.
“Or should he thank the person who truly saved him?”
With that, Su Wanrou turned and walked away.
The morning fog swallowed her figure, leaving Su Wantang alone on the riverbank.
She collapsed into the mud.
The basket of wild vegetables lay overturned beside her. The vegetables she had just washed were scattered everywhere, covered in muck.
Another wave of nausea surged through her stomach.
“Ugh—”
This time she vomited only sour bile.
It mixed with her tears and dripped into the muddy riverbank.
[System Notification: Host emotional state detected as highly unstable. It is recommended to replenish nutrition promptly to ensure healthy fetal development. Supply exchange privileges have been activated. Would you like to redeem today’s food coupons now?]
Su Wantang covered her face, her shoulders shaking violently.
The child…
Lu Zhanye’s child…
The farewell gathering in three days…
The meaningful look in her sister’s eyes…
Everything had become a giant net, trapping her firmly in place.
And at the center of that net was the tiny life growing silently inside her still-flat abdomen.
What was she supposed to do?
Admit it?
Then what would her sister do to her?
What would the villagers think?
And Lu Zhanye…
What would he do?
Deny it?
But the morning sickness would only become more obvious.
She might hide it for a day or two, but not forever.
Su Wantang raised her head and looked toward the river.
The mist was gradually dispersing.
Sunlight pierced through the clouds and danced across the rippling water.
The reeds on the opposite bank swayed in the wind. A flock of waterbirds suddenly took flight, disappearing into the distant sky.
So free.
And she?
She was trapped.
Trapped inside this body.
Trapped inside this absurd “Good Pregnancy System.”
Trapped beneath her sister’s icy scrutiny.
Trapped within the complicated, indescribable feelings she harbored toward Lu Zhanye.
She remembered that night deep inside the wheat-straw stack—
The man’s scorching breath.
His hoarse whisper of “Wanwan.”
And finally, those frighteningly clear words:
“Su Wantang, I’ll remember you.”
Did he really remember?
And if he did—
What then?
Three days from now, at the farewell gathering, what would he say in front of everyone?
And her sister…
What would she do?
Slowly, Su Wantang got to her feet.
She brushed the mud from her clothes and picked up the overturned basket.
The vegetables were ruined now.
She crouched down, picking them up one by one and tossing them into the river.
The water swallowed them, just as it seemed to swallow all the fear and confusion she had nowhere else to put.
Just as she was about to leave, she suddenly noticed a fresh set of footprints in the wet mud.
They weren’t hers.
And they weren’t Su Wanrou’s.
The footprints were large and deep.
The tread pattern belonged unmistakably to military boots—rough, heavy anti-slip grooves.
Following the direction of the prints, she looked up.
Deep within the reeds, a tall figure stood silently by the water with his back turned toward her.
An olive-green military training uniform.
Broad shoulders.
A straight, powerful back.
And around his waist, faintly visible beneath the fabric, the outline of bandages.
Lu Zhanye.
How long had he been standing there?
How much had he seen?
How much had he heard?
The reeds rustled in the morning breeze.
The flap of waterbirds’ wings shattered the silence over the river.
Su Wantang froze in place.
Her fingers dug into the bamboo strips of the empty basket. Tiny splinters pierced beneath her nails, yet she felt no pain.
She stared at his back.
The damp morning mist had soaked his military uniform, making it cling tightly to his broad shoulders and back, outlining the taut muscles beneath.
He stood perfectly straight, like a spear driven into the riverbank.
Only the hand hanging at his side betrayed any tension—its fingers slightly curled, the knuckles pale.
He heard it.
He must have heard it.
Her sister’s probing questions.
The talk of a “previous life.”
The pregnancy.
Spring Wind Intoxication.
And finally that pointed threat:
“Shouldn’t he thank the person who truly saved him?”
The river wind scattered those words through the mist—
And carried them deep into the reeds.
Slowly, Lu Zhanye turned around.
The morning sun pierced through the fog and illuminated his face.
A month had passed since she last saw him.
He had grown thinner.
His jawline was sharper.
His eye sockets more deeply set.
But those eyes—
Those dark brown eyes were astonishingly bright.
And astonishingly cold.
His gaze settled on Su Wantang.
From her pale lips.
To her reddened eyes.
Then to the hand she unconsciously held protectively over her abdomen.
Only then did his gaze move away.
Su Wantang felt as if an invisible hand had clenched around her heart.
She opened her mouth, wanting to explain something, anything.
But her throat felt clogged with river mud.
Not a single word could emerge.
Lu Zhanye didn’t speak either.
He simply looked at her.
There was no anger in his eyes.
No accusation.
Not even confusion.
Only a deep, almost indifferent scrutiny.
As though she were not a person at all, but a puzzle that needed solving.
“C-Comrade Lu…” Su Wantang finally found her voice. It was so fragile it seemed the wind might carry it away. “Y-you… why are you here?”