Jiang Yuan stood there, stunned for a moment. Is he… offering me the bed?
Recalling the utterly wretched look on his face just moments earlier, she quickly decided the word “offer” was far too generous. It wasn’t that he was being kind—he clearly thought the bed had been soiled by her presence. Worse still, he seemed to believe the entire room was now tainted, unfit for him to step foot in again.
Jiang Yuan lifted the collar of her clothes and sniffed. She had bathed that evening and changed into fresh garments; there was no scent, no odour, nothing out of place.
It wasn’t the clothes he found repulsive. It was her—the very idea of her.
Fine, she thought calmly. If it doesn’t sicken me, then it must sicken him.
With that, she settled back beneath the covers and continued sleeping, completely at peace.
Downstairs
Song Yuhua had been certain things would unfold differently. She had expected a fierce confrontation. Instead, all she saw was Lu Qinian storming out of his room, burning with rage, and vanishing into the study—where he remained for the rest of the night.
Lu Qinian rarely lost his temper. Most of the time he was polite, yet always distant and cold. Seeing him this way, Song Yuhua suddenly found herself unable to read his mood. She dared not go upstairs and ask; if she upset him further, she would be the one to lose face.
Everything had been carefully planned—why had it all gone off script? Song Yuhua paced the living room in circles, ten times over, unable to soothe her anger. Every fibre of her being longed to rush upstairs, yank Jiang Yuan out by the hair, and destroy her.
Yet reason prevailed. Patience, she told herself. Jiang Yuan’s ruin was inevitable—disgrace, suffering, a wretched end. It was only a matter of time. There was no need to rush.
Seeing her distress, Aunt Liu spoke up gently: “Comrade Song… let us try to rest. We can deal with all this in the morning.”
“Sleep, sleep, sleep! Is that all you know?” Song Yuhua snapped. “Must we sleep when things are this dire? We cannot even handle a foolish little girl from the countryside! And you dare speak of rest?”
It was truly a case of when the city gates catch fire, the fish in the moat suffer. Aunt Liu stood with hands clasped before her, head bowed, and said no more.
After pacing a while longer, Song Yuhua said coldly: “I shall not sleep tonight. Tomorrow morning, we shall see how she explains the soaked bedding.”
She refused to believe she could lose to that girl time and time again. If she stayed awake, then Aunt Liu would have to stay awake with her.
Dawn
Before the sun had risen, Lu Qinian came downstairs. He frowned when he saw Song Yuhua and Aunt Liu slumped on the sofa, worn out.
Song Yuhua had stayed awake all night precisely for this moment. She heard his footsteps and woke instantly. Looking up, she saw him dressed in his training uniform, a towel draped around his neck—clearly about to head out for his morning run.
“Why are you sleeping here?” Lu Qinian asked, his voice cool.
“Comrade Jiang Yuan has doused all the bedding in the house with water!” Aunt Liu spoke up hurriedly before Song Yuhua could say a word.
Song Yuhua knew Lu Qinian too well. She dared not suggest Jiang Yuan had done it on purpose—afraid that if he thought it merely a misunderstanding, he would dismiss the matter entirely.
Sure enough, Lu Qinian asked simply: “Why?”
He was not truly curious. He merely recalled what Jiang Yuan had said the night before—that all the bedding was soaked—and asked out of casual habit.
Aunt Liu replied: “A few days ago, Comrade Liao, your orderly, came and took one of your quilts away. I knew you would have none to cover yourself upon returning home. Comrade Jiang Yuan was away those days, so I took her quilt and placed it on your bed. It was careless of me—these past days have been busy, and I forgot to buy replacements. When Comrade Jiang Yuan returned and found her bedding gone, she came to question me. I told her I had given it to you. And then… whether she was pleased or not, I cannot say—she took water and soaked every single quilt and blanket in the house… except for the one in your room.”
She gestured toward a pile of bedding stacked like a small mountain, dripping wet. “Everything is soaked through. There is nowhere dry to sleep.”
Lu Qinian’s brow furrowed slightly. “‘Whether she was pleased or not’?”
Aunt Liu had not expected him to fix upon those words. She faltered for a moment. “Normally… one would assume she was displeased. Yet as she poured the water… she was smiling. And she said…” Aunt Liu paused, looking troubled. “She said… that now she could finally climb into your bed with a clear conscience.”
Song Yuhua watched his face closely, waiting for the explosion. Anger there was—she could see it in the way his jaw tightened, the vein along his temple rising. But he was not enraged. Not yet.
She was about to speak, to pile accusation upon accusation and seal Jiang Yuan’s fate—when Lu Qinian turned his gaze toward her and asked, abruptly:
“You asked Old Guo to make inquiries about three men… word eventually reached Xu Qianjin. Is there something you are seeking to resolve?”
Song Yuhua froze. Old Guo was Lu Bingcheng’s old comrade-in-arms—someone Lu Qinian and Xu Qianjin had known for years. She had gone to him precisely so the news would reach Lu Qinian’s ears.
“I merely… heard certain rumours and wished to verify them,” she said quickly. “It is nothing of consequence.”
Lu Qinian gave a noncommittal “Mm”—cold, neutral—and without another word, stepped out for his morning run.
After He Left
Aunt Liu peered through the curtains until he was far enough away, then whispered: “Comrade Song… his reaction… it does not bode well.”
“Not necessarily,” Song Yuhua replied thoughtfully. “He asked questions. That means he is suspicious. That means he is paying attention. Go—prepare breakfast. Lu Ze will return soon from his drills.”
Confrontation
When Jiang Yuan came downstairs, she found Song Yuhua already standing before Lu Ze, spinning her tale. Beside them lay the sodden pile of bedding. Song Yuhua and Aunt Liu looked exhausted, their eyes burning with venom as they fixed their gaze upon Jiang Yuan.
She really stayed awake all night just to make this accusation, Jiang Yuan thought. Truly—one must sacrifice much to catch a wolf.
Lu Qinian sat apart, smoking calmly in an armchair, looking on as though the matter concerned him not at all.
At the sight of Jiang Yuan, Lu Ze stood up abruptly, ready to demand an explanation. But Jiang Yuan spoke first.
“Let me guess,” she said clearly. “Song Yuhua and Aunt Liu have told you that I maliciously soaked every quilt in the house… except for the one in Commander Lu’s room?”
Without waiting for an answer, she continued:
“This is the second time she has tried this.
The first time—I was bathing. Song Yuhua stole my fresh clothes from the rack and hid them. I had no choice but to wrap myself in a towel and step out. And that was the exact moment Commander Lu returned home.
This time… she took my quilt and placed it deliberately upon Commander Lu’s bed. Then she soaked every other blanket in the house—leaving me no choice but to sleep in his bed.
I spent three days in a detention facility. Cold, damp, and noisy. I barely slept a wink. I was exhausted—my eyelids felt as though they weighed a thousand catties. So I went to the only dry bed in the house. And that was exactly when Song Yuhua arranged for Commander Lu to return… so he would find me there.”
It was a masterfully woven trap.
Song Yuhua, beside herself with fury, threw all dignity aside. She pointed a shaking finger toward Jiang Yuan. “You vile girl! What utter nonsense are you spouting now?!”
Jiang Yuan did not flinch. Instead, she turned toward Lu Qinian with a bright, unshaken smile. “Commander Lu… you returned home once in the daytime. And then you returned again in the dead of night. You know better than anyone exactly why you came back, do you not?”
She knew… she knew he had been home at noon?
Lu Qinian lifted his gaze and met her eyes—bright, almond-shaped eyes, that seemed to sparkle dangerously when she smiled. She looked thinner than before—weariness these past few days had sharpened her features, lending her face a delicate, striking beauty.
He looked away. He tapped his cigarette gently against the edge of the ashtray, watching the ash fall.
“I have no idea what you mean,” he said.
His tone was icy. Sharp. Unmistakably displeased.
Jiang Yuan did not waste time guessing why. She understood one thing clearly: he had not denied her words. And in his silence, he had confirmed them.
She turned back toward Song Yuhua, spreading her hands wide with a look of There—you see?
“You have always relied upon knowing Commander Lu’s character perfectly,” Jiang Yuan said steadily. “You knew he is a man of fastidious habits. And more than that—you knew he despises women who deliberately throw themselves at him.
The first time… you tried to expose me half-naked before him, hoping he would believe I was luring him on—and cast me out in disgust. Lu Ze spoke on my behalf, and your plan failed.
So this time… you went further. You arranged for me to be found sleeping in his bed. You hoped he would walk in, see me there, believe I was shamelessly climbing into his bed to seduce him—and in his rage, he would punish me severely and send me away for good.”