The sudden voice startled the two people inside the house, making them jump as if they had simultaneously touched a live wire. Reflexively, they quickly pulled apart.  

“What child?”  

Zhou Qiqi’s voice trembled as she spoke, almost like she was whining.  

As she asked, she subconsciously smoothed her slightly disheveled hair with her right hand—the same one from earlier—trying to mask her inner fluster.  

Shen Huaichuan also opened his mouth as if to say something, but his tongue twisted uselessly in his mouth, unable to form any words. His throat seemed choked by his own tongue.  

Just then, the crisp sound of leather shoes clicking against the floor echoed from outside.  

A middle-aged woman walked in with steady, unhurried steps.  

She wore a checked polyester blouse, an A-line skirt that reached past her knees, flesh-colored stockings, and a pair of polished black leather shoes. Her short, ear-length hair was neatly tucked behind a black headband.  

She looked sharp and spirited—clearly not an ordinary person, more like an educated professor.  

“Director Zhou,” Shen Huaichuan quickly greeted her.  

Only then did Zhou Qiqi realize that the visitor was Zhou Shuhua, the wife of the military district’s political commissar and the director of the military dependents’ women’s association.  

She hurried forward, her face breaking into an eager, ingratiating smile.  

“You must be Director Zhou? Thank you so much for the coal stove you sent. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to cook today. I was just telling Huaichuan that we should buy something to thank you in person soon. I didn’t expect you to come over yourself…”  

“You’re Zhou Qiqi?”  

Zhou Shuhua scrutinized the woman in the red dress, her eyes sharp with judgment, her tone icy.  

“Enough with the pleasantries. First, explain this child situation!”  

Zhou Qiqi immediately sensed Zhou Shuhua’s inexplicable dislike for her and realized that this director wasn’t here for a friendly visit—she was here to pick a fight.  

Dropping her earlier enthusiastic demeanor, Zhou Qiqi crossed her arms in front of her chest like an invisible defensive wall, her tone turning flat.  

“What child? Whose child? I don’t understand what you mean.”  

“Whose child? Yours!”  

Zhou Shuhua shot her a disdainful look, as if accusing her of feigning ignorance, then pulled a child out from behind her.  

It was a little girl, around five or six years old.  

She wore a black long-sleeved dress, her braids slightly messy, her face a little dirty.  

But her features were exquisite—big eyes, long lashes, a delicate little nose—like a doll.  

Sadly, her neck and the right side of her face were marred by rough, pitted scars, as if from severe burns.  

Zhou Qiqi’s heart lurched at the sight of the little girl.  

For some reason, the child bore a faint resemblance to Shen Huaichuan.  

Her eyes widened like a bristling kitten as she turned to glare at Shen Huaichuan beside her, demanding angrily:  

“This is your daughter???”  

After a pause, she repeated in disbelief:  

“You have a daughter???”  

Shen Huaichuan shrank under her furious, stunned gaze and hastily shook his head. “No.”  

Zhou Qiqi had just started to relax when his next words stabbed straight into her heart like a sharp knife.  

“But she is indeed our family’s child.”  

“What’s going on?”  

Now Zhou Qiqi was completely lost, her mind a whirl of confusion.  

But she also knew this wasn’t the right place to talk—not with the child still standing right there.

So, she simply reached out and grabbed Shen Huaichuan’s arm like a little tyrant, pulling him toward the bedroom while tossing a remark at Zhou Shuhua:  

“Director Zhou, since you’re here to stand up for the child, why don’t you do us another favor and watch her for a bit longer? After all, you’re so kind-hearted!”  

The words carried an unmistakable edge, yet upon closer inspection, there was nothing outright wrong with them.  

Zhou Shuhua pursed her lips, resigned, and shifted her attention to the child, speaking softly.  

“Zhouzhou, let’s go play in the yard for a while, okay?”  

The little girl called Zhouzhou had eyes as calm as still water from start to finish, deep and unreadable, like a tranquil lake.  

Hearing Zhou Shuhua’s words, she didn’t make a sound, only nodding slightly.  

Zhou Shuhua took a few glass marbles from her pocket and held them out to the girl.  

The little girl stretched out her small hand, obediently accepting them, then walked slowly into the yard with tiny steps.  

She placed the marbles on the ground but didn’t play with them joyfully like other children. Instead, she simply squatted nearby, staring at them intently, as if everything around her held no relevance.  

Zhou Shuhua watched the scene without surprise, only letting out a soft sigh.  

Meanwhile, inside the house, Shen Huaichuan also sighed lightly, watching as Zhou Qiqi spun around like a top, muttering nonstop, her imagination running wild. He wanted to interrupt but didn’t know where to start.  

“I get it—that little girl is your comrade’s child, right?”  

“Your comrade sacrificed themselves, and you, being the noble soul you are, took the child in to raise?”  

“Does she call you Dad now?”  

“Which means… I’ve now painlessly become a mother?”  

She had read plenty of military romance novels, and this was a common trope.  

A troublesome child at home, driving the female lead up the wall, leading to a series of misunderstandings—only for it to turn out the child belonged to a deceased comrade.  

“And then, of course, the kid won’t like me, and people outside will stir up trouble, creating a whole mess of misunderstandings…”  

The more Zhou Qiqi thought about it, the more her head ached.  

As a single, childless office worker who owned a cat, her greatest fear and annoyance in life was misbehaving children.  

Seeing Zhou Qiqi spiraling further into absurdity, Shen Huaichuan quickly placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down with a gentle tone.  

“Don’t overthink it. You’re the child’s aunt, not her mother.”  

Hearing this, Zhou Qiqi instantly fell silent. It took her a long moment to process the words before she asked, bewildered:  

“Aunt? So… she’s your brother’s child?”  

Shen Huaichuan nodded and began explaining slowly.  

Xu Shu had already given Zhou Qiqi a rough overview of the Shen family’s situation.  

The eldest brother, Shen Huaishan, was also a soldier. He had gone missing after being injured in a border conflict, and for ten years, there had been no news of him. The family had been searching for him all this time.  

The second brother, Shen Huaiyue, and his wife, Chen Jiao, worked in a classified unit.  

Three years ago, while on a mission, they were severely injured and both fell into vegetative states. They now lay in the hospital, kept alive by machines.  

But there was one crucial detail Xu Shu had deliberately omitted.  

And that detail was also one of the main reasons Lin Yao had refused to marry into the Shen family.