Chapter 39: You Forced Me

 

Outside, the snow would pause only to start falling again.

 

Yu Tingwan and Wei Zhao had been at a standoff for a long time.

 

No matter how she reasoned, Wei Zhao refused to let her come close. Yu Tingwan stopped trying to negotiate and directly started removing his clothes to apply medicine.

 

Shock flickered in Wei Zhao’s eyes before turning to anger, and finally, to that familiar dead resignation.

 

Forget it.

 

He was already a dying man.

 

Let her do as she pleased.

 

Yu Tingwan’s strength was no small matter, and in his current state, he couldn’t stop her.

 

Wei Zhao remained motionless, surrendering to her ministrations.

 

His upper body was bare—broad shoulders, a lean waist, and smooth, well-defined muscles.

 

No resistance. No cooperation. No struggle.

 

It was Yu Tingwan’s first time seeing a man’s body, but she didn’t even blush. She focused solely on applying the medicine.

 

“Isn’t this better?” she asked.

 

“Why did you refuse earlier? I wasn’t doing anything improper, let alone taking advantage of you.”

 

Wei Zhao’s expression remained indifferent. “You went straight for my belt.”

 

That was true.

 

But Yu Tingwan didn’t think she had done anything wrong.

 

She swiftly finished applying the medicine, then awkwardly helped him dress to prevent him from catching a chill.

 

“If blood soaks into your clothes and dries, it’ll be too late when you try to take them off. You’ll end up peeling off a layer of skin.”

 

Was Wei Zhao someone who feared pain? He wasn’t.

 

He barely had the strength to lift a finger.

 

“I don’t want to.”

 

“I’m not afraid to see you bare-chested,” Yu Tingwan said. “Can’t you be a little more open-minded?”

 

Wei Zhao didn’t look at her. His eyes were empty, his voice flat.

 

“You forced me.”

 

Yu Tingwan: …

 

The way he said it, one would think she had pinned him to the bed.

 

When Hui Niang returned with the red fabric, she went to Wei Zhao’s room but noticed nothing unusual between them.

 

Wei Zhao still wore that lifeless expression.

 

Yu Tingwan remained unbothered.

 

Hui Niang called out to her, “Wan’er, come here. Let me take your measurements.”

 

Yu Tingwan remembered Hui Niang mentioning making her a cotton-padded coat, so she thought nothing of it.

 

The wedding date was quickly set for five days later.

 

The entire Wei household was busy. 

 

Everyone except the half-dead Wei Zhao.

 

As the days passed, the mountain roads became increasingly treacherous, so Yu Tingwan didn’t venture up again.

 

On the third day, when she arrived at the Wei household, Hui Niang presented the wedding attire she had spent three days sewing.

 

Though village women didn’t know embroidery, they were skilled at making simple garments.

 

The wedding dress couldn’t compare to those sold in town, but the stitches were meticulous—every thread sewn with care.

 

Hui Niang smiled. “What bride wouldn’t want to wear a proper wedding dress on her big day? If your mother were still here, she would have been heartbroken to see you without one.”

 

“I can’t embroider like she could, but you’ll have to make do with this.”

 

Yu Tingwan hugged the dress tightly.

 

She wasn’t sure if it was the mention of her mother that made her heart ache, or if it was the lingering warmth in the fabric that made her reluctant to let go.

 

Her eyes burned.

 

Words failed her.

 

Hui Niang continued, “Oh, and here’s one for Ah Lang too.”

 

She turned toward the dazed Wei Zhao.

 

“Your cousin married half a year ago, so I borrowed his.”

 

“Ah Lang, try it on and see if it fits. If not, I can alter it for you.”

 

Wei Zhao stared at her blankly.

 

He didn’t take it.

 

“Why…”

 

He said slowly, “So I get used clothes?”

 

Yu Tingwan got new clothes, while he had to make do with someone else’s worn ones.

 

Hui Niang: …

 

“You never care about anything, yet suddenly you’re competing with your bride over this?”

 

She was exasperated yet amused. “Those are meant for the bride. If you really want them, why don’t you ask Wan’er to trade?”

 

She was joking, of course.

 

Wei Zhao fell silent.

 

He had no interest in wearing women’s clothing.

 

But someone took her words seriously.

 

Yu Tingwan, unwilling to make such a sacrifice, quietly hid the dress behind her back.

 

Wei Zhao: …

 

Being alive was truly so meaningless.

 

After breakfast, Yu Tingwan kept busy, sitting by Wei Zhao’s bedside, cutting red paper into festive double happiness characters.

 

Windows, doors, cabinets—everything would be decorated tomorrow.

 

It would look especially festive.

 

Hui Niang had also mentioned hanging two red lanterns at the front gate.

 

Yu Tingwan was skilled with her hands. With a few precise snips, the designs quickly took shape. The sound of cutting filled the room, mingling with the girl’s quiet breathing.

 

While working, she noticed Wei Zhao absently brushing away the paper scraps that the wind blew onto him.

 

There were many.

 

After a few weak attempts, he gave up.

 

He lay back, staring at the ceiling, his gaze unfocused—nothing like someone who had served in the Wei family army.

 

Everyone knew General Wei’s soldiers were trained to be sharp, always alert to the slightest disturbance.

 

How had Wei Shen ever been chosen?

 

“I heard only the most promising martial talents were selected for the Wei family army,” Yu Tingwan mused.

 

“Could it be…” She studied him thoughtfully.

 

“Were you chosen because you’re good at cooking? Perhaps as a field cook?”

 

Wei Zhao stared blankly.

 

Having startled him before, Yu Tingwan softened her approach.

 

She leaned in. “There’s nothing shameful about it.”

 

“I won’t tell anyone.”

 

“Being a cook is wonderful—keeping the frontline soldiers fed, no need for weapons, and staying safe.”

 

No response.

 

Yu Tingwan couldn’t get another word out of him.

 

“You really…”

 

She sighed, defeated.

 

“Care so much about your pride.”

 

Annoyed by her chatter, Wei Zhao finally met her gaze, his dark eyes sharp.

 

“The Wei family army’s cooks are either too old to fight or too injured to return to battle. How would Wei Shen qualify?”

 

Yu Tingwan had expected him to get defensive.

 

Instead, she smiled.

 

“Oh? So you do care about something after all.”

 

At least he wasn’t completely lifeless anymore.

 

Wei Zhao: …

 

Something about this conversation troubled Yu Tingwan.

 

Many doubts had weighed on her mind, but she’d ignored them, thinking they didn’t matter. Now that their relationship had changed, she couldn’t help but wonder.

 

She pressed her lips together.

 

“The border is far from Xilin Village. If you were seriously injured, how did you make it here?”

 

Only the Wei couple, overcome with joy at his return, had never questioned these details.

 

Something in her words provoked him.

 

His eyes flashed with frustration and annoyance. Even his tone turned sharp.

 

“I was carried back.”

 

Yu Tingwan fell silent.

 

After a long while, she found her voice again.

 

Soft as a whisper on the wind.

 

“By the tiger you mentioned before?”

 

Wei Zhao muttered, “Mm.”

 

Yu Tingwan didn’t believe him.

 

But she didn’t press further.

 

His head was injured, after all.

 

If he wanted to imagine he had a pet tiger, so be it.

 

Yu Tingwan gave up.

 

He was back now. Some things weren’t worth questioning.

 

Wei Zhao braced himself for more questions.

 

Yu Tingwan did ask another question—just not what he expected.

 

The girl was very serious.

 

Thinking of their future together, her eyes curved in a smile, her voice light as if discussing dinner plans.

 

“What do you think? Will we have a son or a daughter?”