“Save us! They’re going to kill us!”
Jiang Yuan came downstairs after packing her things. Song Yuhua was already seated at breakfast.
Jiang Yuan had no thin sense of propriety — besides, she might not get another chance to eat later. Uninvited, she pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Where are the Commander and Lu Ze?”
After all, this was their home. It would look ill‑mannered to start eating before the masters of the house had even appeared. Though she had already picked up a steamed bun and taken a bite.
“Back at the barracks for training,” Song Yuhua replied.
“Since they’re gone, you needn’t pretend any longer. Say whatever it is you’ve been dying to say.”
From the very first moment their eyes met, Jiang Yuan had caught the calculating smile playing at Song Yuhua’s lips — and the unmistakable air of triumph in her gaze.
Song Yuhua dabbed delicately at the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief. “Really — you speak as though I were some sort of two‑faced schemer.”
“Oh? So you aren’t a two‑faced schemer? How remarkable.” Jiang Yuan let out a cold huff. “If you won’t speak plainly — then I will. You failed to drive me away last night. Must it not rankle?”
“How can you say such a thing? It was never I who sought to turn you out.”
Jiang Yuan smiled. “In truth — I owe you a debt of gratitude for last night.”
Song Yuhua looked at her, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Once I laid eyes on the Commander, I realized: in every single way, he is far superior to Lu Ze. I had been wondering how best to catch his interest — and then you, my foolish woman, came up with that brilliant little scheme of hiding my clothes. You handed me the perfect excuse to throw myself at him openly. If I win him in the end — I shall be forever in your debt.”
Song Yuhua’s face darkened, then twisted into a sneer. “Win him? A discarded village girl who has already been used up by others — you dare imagine yourself worthy of Qinian? Do you not know your own place?”
The words were cruel — yet Jiang Yuan’s lips curved upward. “Are you in the business of cutting keys on the street? You keep prattling on about who is worthy of what. Worthiness is not what matters. What matters is this: I am already here. Under this roof. And not only that…”
Jiang Yuan paused, resting a hand gently over her still‑flat stomach. “I carry his child. Once there is a child — surely even the highest authorities must issue a marriage certificate, regardless of who is deemed worthy or not?”
Song Yuhua let out a scoff and seemed almost relieved. “If you want a wedding and a child — go find the father. Do not stand here making a fool of yourself.”
“Thanks entirely to your help,” Jiang Yuan said smoothly, “I have already succeeded in seducing the father. When the day comes — you shall be seated at the head table at both the wedding and the full‑moon banquet.”
Song Yuhua’s composure shattered completely. She slammed a hand against the table and stood trembling. “What utter nonsense do you speak? That child — it is certainly not Qinian’s!”
“Oh?” Jiang Yuan arched an eyebrow. “How do you know it is not? Where is your proof?”
“…”
“Without proof — what you say is nothing but slander.”
“Do not think I do not know what you have been up to!” Song Yuhua snapped, her temper fraying past all caution. “You lay with another man — a filthy, common brute!”
That was exactly the reaction Jiang Yuan had wanted. She smiled unshaken. “Lay with a filthy brute? Who told you that? Did you see it with your own eyes? Or were you hiding under my bed listening? I, too, can spin tales without end. Shall I tell you one of mine?”
“I was betrothed first to Lu Ze,” Jiang Yuan went on, her voice lowering, cool and steady. “He brought me before his adoptive father, Lu Qinian. And it appears — the father and son share remarkably similar tastes. Both have cast their eyes upon me. Now even I cannot say for certain… whose child this is beneath my heart. Though they are not blood‑related — they are still family. Either would make a perfectly fine father. Which one I choose… depends entirely on what you would have this child call you.”
Song Yuhua stood shaking from head to foot, her eyes bloodshot and raw, as though she had not slept in days. “I have made inquiries. Lu Ze has never touched you. And as for Qinian — he would never look twice at the likes of you. I shall lay the whole matter plainly before them both. Do not imagine you can fasten your bastard upon either of them!”
“And what, exactly, did you trade for that thick skin of yours?” Jiang Yuan regarded her with genuine curiosity a moment, then guessed. “Your wits?”
With that, she tucked two steamed buns and two tea‑eggs into her pockets, leaving Song Yuhua standing there stunned and speechless, turning every word over in search of hidden meaning. Jiang Yuan walked out without a backward glance.
In her past life, Jiang Yuan had pulled every string to hunt down those three brutes. Back then she had not known — they had been paid to do what they did. She had sought them out intending to see them punished, charged with the crime of indecency. Only after she died did she learn the truth: those three men had been hired by Song Yuhua. And by then they were gone — vanished without a trace. Not even Lu Qinian or Lu Ze had ever so much as mentioned their names.
If Lu Qinian himself could not find them then — how could she hope to find them now? And even if she could — it would cost time and strength she might better spend elsewhere. Far better to lay the burden upon Song Yuhua. If Song Yuhua wished to prove that the child belonged neither to Lu Qinian nor to Lu Ze — then she herself must find those three men. She must bring them forward and make them swear under oath that the child was theirs. Let Song Yuhua run herself ragged — Jiang Yuan would wait comfortably. And she hoped with all her heart Song Yuhua would not disappoint her.
The days that followed found Jiang Yuan rising before dawn and returning late each evening, selling goods down at the railway station. To her stock of silk scarves and hair ornaments she had added nylon stockings and detachable collars. Her trade grew steadily — and with success came envy. One group after another came sniffing about, seeking to learn where she sourced her wares. Fortunately Wang Yajuan had plied her trade at the station for years — she knew exactly how to deflect every question, slipping away like a loach in mud, parrying and turning them aside.
Most she could fend off with a word or two. But when money was at stake — not everyone could be put off so easily. Seeing that they were but two girls barely out of their teens, those who had begun with polite inquiry soon turned to threats and intimidation.
Jiang Yuan might have lived ten lives — but she was still nineteen. No matter how sharp her wits, she could not stand against three or four grown men. Discretion being the better part of valor — Jiang Yuan grabbed Wang Yajuan’s arm and ran.
As she fled, Jiang Yuan cursed Lu Qinian under her breath. When there was no need — he posted officers like Lu Ze down at the station. Now, when she stood in need of help — not a single one was anywhere to be seen.
Unbeknownst to her, Lu Qinian had been away on duty these past several days. He was returning by train — and during the journey had personally apprehended a ring of human traffickers. Stepping down onto the platform, he caught sight of a figure running toward him at full tilt.
Jiang Yuan’s plan was simple: run aboard the train. Once it pulled away — no one, however swift, could hope to catch her. But as she ran she caught sight of uniformed soldiers — and at their center, one man who stood taller, finer, and more striking than all the rest.
When in trouble — seek help from the soldiers of the people! Jiang Yuan put on a final burst of speed and ran straight toward him.
“Stop, you little bitch! Run one step further and I’ll break your legs!”
Run she must — or have her legs broken. Drawing near, Jiang Yuan realized with a jolt that the most striking of them all was none other than Lu Qinian. Without a moment’s hesitation she threw herself forward, skidding to a halt right before him, and darted behind his back for shelter.
The moment her slight, soft arms wrapped around his waist and pressed against him, Lu Qinian understood. He looked down, watching her slip round to stand behind him — feeling the faint, prickling trail of her fingertips through the fabric of his uniform, along every line of muscle beneath.
“Save us!” she gasped, breathless. “They’re going to kill us!”