As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
How stupid.
This river was the village’s water source. Anyone could come here. He was an injured man; coming out for a walk and some fresh air was perfectly normal.
But Lu Zhanye’s answer sent a chill through her whole body.
“I’m looking for something.”
His voice was even hoarser than it had been a month ago.
“Looking for what?” Su Wantang asked instinctively.
Lu Zhanye didn’t answer. His gaze returned to the river, settling on the wild vegetables Su Wantang had thrown away, now covered in mud. A few leaves drifted along with the current before quickly being swallowed by the water.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he said lightly, turning to leave.
“Wait!”
Su Wantang didn’t know where she found the courage. She took two quick steps forward, almost grabbing his sleeve. But her fingers stopped just before touching the military fabric, hanging in midair and trembling slightly.
Lu Zhanye halted and glanced back at her.
The morning sunlight streamed from behind him, casting deep shadows across his face. Su Wantang couldn’t make out his expression. All she could see was the tight line of his lips and those eyes, still burning bright even in the darkness.
“That night…” Her voice shook uncontrollably. “At the threshing ground… how much do you remember?”
She had finally asked.
The question that had tormented her for an entire month had finally been spoken aloud.
Lu Zhanye remained silent for a long time.
So long that Su Wantang thought he wouldn’t answer. So long that the river breeze dried the tears on her face.
“I remember,” he finally said, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. “I remember the smell of wheat straw. I remember someone crying. I remember…”
He paused, his eyes dropping once more to the hand she kept protectively over her abdomen.
“I remember a scar.”
Su Wantang’s breathing stopped.
A scar?
The scar on his waist? Or—
“The scar on my waist,” Lu Zhanye said, as if reading her mind. He placed a hand over it. “Someone touched it. In a dream. And also…”
He didn’t finish.
But Su Wantang understood.
That night, when the drug’s effects were at their strongest, he had taken her hand and guided it across the scar. He had said:
“The scar is there in my dreams too… You’ve touched it… in every dream… every time…”
So he remembered.
He remembered those touches, those entanglements, and the final “I’m sorry” she had whispered.
“That person…” Su Wantang heard her own trembling voice. “Who was it?”
Lu Zhanye looked at her deeply.
His gaze was so complicated that it made her heart race—there was curiosity, suspicion, and a faint trace of struggle.
“I don’t know,” he finally said. “The medicine was too strong. A lot of the details are blurred. I only remember…”
He took a step forward, suddenly closing the distance between them.
Su Wantang could smell the mixture of herbs and blood lingering on him. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She could see her own panicked reflection in his pupils.
“I remember a scent,” Lu Zhanye said softly, almost in a whisper. “Soapberry mixed with medicinal herbs. Bitter and clean, with just a hint of sweetness.”
His gaze settled on the side of her neck.
There, beneath loose strands of hair, a small red mole peeked through.
Su Wantang froze.
Even her blood seemed to turn cold.
He remembered.
At least part of it.
“Comrade Lu…” Her voice sounded like a plea. “That night… I… I didn’t mean to… I only…”
“Only what?” Lu Zhanye pressed calmly, though the sharpness in his eyes was like a blade. “Only happened to pass by? Only tried to help? Or…”
Suddenly he reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from beside her cheek.
The gesture was feather-light.
But Su Wantang reacted as if she’d been burned. She stumbled backward, her foot slipping, her whole body tilting toward the ground—
A hand caught her around the waist just in time.
His scorching palm pressed through the thin fabric at her waist, his grip astonishingly strong. She fell against his chest, her forehead striking the hard plane of it. Instantly, her nose filled with the scent of herbs and the unmistakable smell of a man.
“Careful,” Lu Zhanye said above her head, his voice still calm.
But Su Wantang felt it—
The hand around her waist was trembling slightly.
Just like she was.
“Th-thank you…” she stammered, trying to pull away.
But his arm was like an iron band around her.
“You threw up earlier,” he suddenly said, changing the subject without warning.
Su Wantang stiffened.
“I… I ate something bad…”
“It’s been a month,” Lu Zhanye interrupted. “Exactly one month since that night. Your ‘food poisoning’ has lasted a little too long.”
He released her and stepped back.
The distance widened, but the scrutiny in his eyes became even more obvious.
“Comrade Su,” he said, looking directly at her, “some things can’t be hidden forever.”
Then he turned and left.
His military boots sank into the muddy riverbank, leaving deep footprints that stretched into the reeds before disappearing into the morning mist.
Su Wantang collapsed onto the shore, her fingers digging into the cold mud.
He had said, “Some things can’t be hidden forever.”
He knew.
Or at least, he suspected.
What would happen at the farewell gathering three days later? What would he say in front of everyone? What would her sister do?
And what about the child growing inside her?
Lowering her head, she looked at her still-flat stomach.
Nothing could be seen yet, but she could feel it.
A faint, strange connection, like a delicate thread, had tied her to Lu Zhanye and to this tiny life ever since that night.
[System Notification: Pregnancy stable. Embryo developing normally. Recommend increased nutrition and maintaining emotional stability.]
Emotional stability?
How was that possible?
Su Wantang gave a bitter smile and pushed herself to her feet. Her basket was long gone. In a daze, she walked home, her mind filled with Lu Zhanye’s dark brown eyes and his words:
“Some things can’t be hidden forever.”
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
The farewell gathering was held in the courtyard of the village committee office.
At dusk, a red banner hung across the mud-brick wall, crookedly painted with the words:
“Farewell to Hero Comrade Lu Zhanye.”
Several old wooden tables were set up in the yard. On them were sunflower seeds, peanuts, and two bottles of bulk white liquor purchased with money collected by the villagers.
Su Wantang was pulled by her mother, Wang Xiuying, to a seat at the farthest corner table.
“Don’t run off later when your sister goes up to speak,” Wang Xiuying whispered, unable to hide her excitement. “The village chief said that Wenrou saved Comrade Lu. She’s brought honor to our family. When Comrade Lu thanks her publicly, the whole village will see it…”
Su Wantang lowered her head, twisting her clothes nervously.
The courtyard was already packed.
Zhao Jianguo and his father, Village Chief Zhao Dehai, sat at the main table chatting with Lu Zhanye. Dressed in a clean military uniform, Lu Zhanye sat ramrod straight, expressionless except for an occasional nod.
From time to time, his gaze swept over the crowd.
Every time it did, Su Wantang instinctively shrank back, wishing she could disappear beneath the table.
But she couldn’t hide.
Because every time, his gaze paused on her for a brief moment.
So brief that no one else noticed.
But she felt it.
The sensation of being targeted made her unbearably tense.
“Fellow villagers!”
Zhao Dehai stood up and knocked on the table.
The courtyard gradually quieted.
“We’ve gathered today to bid farewell to Comrade Lu Zhanye! Comrade Lu is a hero of the army. He was injured while carrying out his duties and ended up in our Sujia Village. During this past month, everyone has taken good care of him, especially—”
He paused and looked toward Su Wanrou, who sat beside Lu Zhanye.
Today she had dressed especially carefully in a brand-new floral blouse. Her hair was perfectly arranged, and a gentle smile graced her face. At Zhao Dehai’s cue, she lowered her head shyly, exposing a slender white neck.
“Especially Comrade Su Wanrou!” Zhao Dehai announced loudly. “During Comrade Lu’s recovery, Wanrou cared for him day and night. She even used a family herbal remedy to heal his wounds! Such selfless dedication deserves recognition from the whole village!”
Applause erupted.
The villagers exchanged approving looks.
Su Wanrou rose and gave a small bow.
“This is only what I should have done,” she said softly. “Comrade Lu is a hero injured in service to the nation. Being able to care for him was my honor.”
The applause grew even louder.
Satisfied, Zhao Dehai nodded and turned toward Lu Zhanye.
“Comrade Lu, don’t you think it’s time to show your appreciation?”
Every eye turned to him.
Su Wantang held her breath.
She watched as Lu Zhanye slowly rose to his feet.
His military uniform looked as sharp as a blade. Under the lights, his chiseled features were cast in deep shadow. His gaze swept over the crowd before finally settling on Su Wanrou.
Meeting his eyes, Su Wanrou’s smile grew gentler, though a trace of tension flashed in her gaze.
“I should express my thanks,” Lu Zhanye said calmly. “During this month, I’ve received great care from the villagers, and especially from Comrade Su Wanrou… who has gone to considerable trouble on my behalf.”
He paused.
The courtyard became so quiet that the banner fluttering in the wind could be heard.
Su Wantang’s heart pounded wildly.
She stared at his lips, waiting for what would come next.
Would he expose the truth?
Would he thank her?
Or—
“So,” Lu Zhanye continued evenly, “I’ve prepared a gift of thanks.”
He pulled a kraft-paper envelope from his uniform pocket and handed it to Su Wanrou.
“There are fifty yuan and some nationwide grain coupons inside. Consider it a small token of my appreciation.”
A collective gasp swept through the courtyard.
Fifty yuan!
And grain coupons valid across the country!
In a rural village in the 1970s, it was a fortune.
The smile on Su Wanrou’s face froze.
She stared at the envelope but didn’t take it.
“Comrade Lu…” Her voice trembled. “I didn’t take care of you for money…”
“I know,” Lu Zhanye replied, still holding out the envelope. “But these are the rules. The army has discipline. We can’t accept kindness from the people without repayment.”
His words were flawless.
He offered gratitude while drawing a clear boundary.
Su Wanrou’s face gradually turned pale.
Instead of accepting the envelope, she stepped closer to him.
Under the lights, her eyes reddened quickly and filled with tears.
“Comrade Lu…” she said, her voice breaking. “Some things… can’t be settled with money…”
The courtyard fell silent.
Everyone sensed something unusual.
Zhao Dehai frowned.
“Wanrou, what do you mean?”
Ignoring him, she stared at Lu Zhanye as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Comrade Lu, for this entire month… I stayed by your side day and night. I changed your bandages, wiped your body, fed you… and I did it willingly. But… but some things happened that can’t simply be treated as if they never happened…”
Covering her face, she began to sob delicately.
“What happened?” Zhao Dehai demanded. “Wanrou, explain yourself!”
Still crying, Su Wanrou pulled a small cloth bundle from her clothes and opened it.
Inside was a crumpled piece of paper.
Holding it up beneath the lamp, everyone could see the crooked handwriting and a bright red thumbprint at the bottom.
“This…” she sobbed, “this is a diagnosis from Midwife Wang at the east end of the village. I… I’m pregnant. More than a month along…”
Boom—
The courtyard exploded.
“She’s pregnant?!”
“Whose child is it?!”
“More than a month? That matches the time Comrade Lu was staying here!”
“My God…”
The crowd erupted into gossip.
All eyes turned toward Lu Zhanye.
“I admit it—if the child is mine, I will take responsibility for it to the very end! But…” Lu Zhanye said.