Chapter 28

When Jiang Henian finally crawled out from the waist-high wild grass ditch, the sky had already darkened.

The scumbag she’d smashed with the butcher knife was nowhere to be seen.

Panting, she crouched among the grass and groped around until she found her knife. Holding it close, she inspected the blade—no blood, just a little on the dull side.

“Damn you! If I see you again, I’ll chop you again. Every time!”

She had chased that bastard all the way out here, almost caught him too—until she suddenly lost her footing.

With a flash of fury, she’d flung her butcher knife at him with deadly accuracy and was satisfied to hear his pained scream. But she herself had fallen into the wild grass ditch.

The grass below was thigh-high, and the wet, slippery mud made it nearly impossible to climb. Jiang Henian had to stab several footholds into the ground with her bone-cleaving knife before she could crawl out.

She wiped the mud off her hands in the grass and, leaning on her knees, slowly stood up. As she looked up, the moon hung large and bright in the sky.

Having broken into a sweat, the chill of the autumn wind made her shiver to the bone. The intense adrenaline rush brought on by fear and anger had entirely faded.

Standing alone in the wilds with a knife in her hand, Jiang Henian felt an overwhelming sense of absurdity—like none of it was real. She even forgot how she’d managed to recklessly chase the man this far.

Her whole body ached, cold seeped into her bones, and her strength was draining fast—it was getting hard just to stay standing.

Staring blankly at the moon suspended high above, a sudden jolt struck her heart.

Time was almost up!

Bathed in moonlight, she staggered back down the path as her body grew weaker by the second, finally managing to return just within the twelve-hour limit—and collapse in front of He Jinshan.

At this moment, her head spun, her body was limp, and life itself felt like it was slipping away like sand from a broken hourglass.

And the only person who could save her—was holding her tightly by the waist, his large hand gripping her jaw as he leaned in, dangerous black eyes narrowed, as if evaluating something.

“You sure about this?”

He Jinshan’s lowered gaze lingered on Jiang Henian’s slightly parted, pale lips.

He remembered their feel.

Very soft.

Their bodies were pressed close together, faces inches apart, breath mingling.

The atmosphere made Jiang Henian inexplicably tremble—she even felt like backing away.

But her mind was fogged up, unable to distinguish anything clearly—only her survival instincts remained. She needed to recharge, and this was the fastest, most effective method.

She shifted slightly against his grip, and her cool lips just barely brushed against his.

Yes. I’m sure.

He Jinshan’s eyes darkened. His long arm pulled her closer, fingers tightening under her chin, forcing her mouth to open as he lowered his head and kissed her—firmly, without hesitation.

“Mmph.”

The moment their lips and tongues met, Jiang Henian felt as if a current jolted through her entire body.

A slow, warm surge spread through her limbs.

Her eyes fluttered shut, a low, breathy moan escaping her lips. Her weak arms gradually wrapped around the broad, solid muscles of the man’s back.

Everything she did—He Jinshan saw it all.

His long lashes lowered slightly as he tilted his face and deepened the kiss, the bridge of his nose brushing hers, their breaths entwined.

He could feel it.

The gnawing hunger that had haunted him all night was being soothed, filled—as if a wild beast had finally found its long-awaited feast.

A cold gleam flashed through his dark eyes. He reached out and gripped her moist, pale chin again, tilting it up and pulling away slightly.

His lips hovered just above hers—so close, yet not touching.

“Was that enough?”

His voice was husky and magnetic, thick with temptation and subtle challenge.

Jiang Henian panted with slightly parted lips, her wet, wide eyes dazed and confused—irresistibly seductive without meaning to be.

She shook her head slowly, delayed in her response.

Her fingers clenched around the fabric of his shirt, crumpling it as she held on.

He Jinshan let out a low laugh, the mature and roguish charm on his face impossible to ignore.

“Greedy little thing…”

His raspy murmur was cut off as their lips met again, more fiercely.

His large hand slid down her back and boldly lifted her up by her rear.

Jiang Henian was hoisted off the ground with one hand, lips still locked, going from being kissed with her head tilted back to being held by the nape and kissed from above.

The sudden lift and loss of ground beneath her made her instinctively tighten her grip, wrapping her legs around He Jinshan’s solid waist.

In the next instant, her back hit the wooden door behind them with a loud “bang.”

Everything fell into complete darkness.

All she could hear was the wet sounds of their kiss and the thunder of her own heartbeat.

Trapped between his firm chest and strong arms, Jiang Henian could feel nothing else in the world.

Even the energy that had long since filled her body again went unnoticed.

—

“What happened to your neck?”

“Got scratched… in a fight.”

“Your forehead?”

“I headbutted her in the eye.”

“All this mud—what were you rolling around in?”

“…”

“Answer me.”

Jiang Henian pouted, fidgeting with her fingers. After holding it in for a while, tears began rolling down her cheeks in big, fat drops.

He Jinshan froze.

He tossed the dirty, wet towel aside, bent his long legs to sit on the edge of the kang, and reached out to pull the little girl, who was sitting cross-legged, into his arms.

His rough hand—not exactly gentle—wiped her tears away, then stuffed a jujube into her mouth.

“Why are you crying?”

Her mouth full, her nose stuffed up, Jiang Henian let out an unfortunate pig-like snort.

She was both upset and amused, wiping her eyes with the hand he had just cleaned for her, crying while noisily crunching the sweet jujube between her teeth.

He Jinshan had never met anyone who could cry like this—cry from being kissed, cry when he scrubbed her hands and face too roughly, cry while eating sweet jujubes.

Tears streamed down like a flood. Her thin eyelids were swollen, her eyes red and puffy like a rabbit’s.

He, feared by all, had never been this patient. Back when he led his team, even if a man had his hand broken under interrogation, shedding a single tear would earn him a snapped neck.

Now, he grabbed another handful of jujubes—his large palm holding a dozen.

When she finished one, he pinched her cheek gently to get her to spit out the pit, then fed her the next one immediately.

Finish one, feed another. No breaks.

He kept her so busy chewing that she barely had time to cry properly.

Only after the eighth jujube, when she sobbingly refused to open her mouth, did he finally stop.

“No more?”

Jiang Henian sniffled and shook her head, her emotions finally calming down.

He Jinshan tossed the pits into a bowl, wiped his hands with a towel, and asked again—patiently:

“Now can you tell me what happened?”

Jiang Henian sniffled, nervously picking at the back of her hand, biting her swollen red lips, unsure how to begin.

Just the memory of those murky, terrifying eyes staring through the crack of the latrine wall made her skin crawl in fear. And the rage—it made her tremble all over again. Her nose burned.

Everyone else who traveled through time got cheat codes and golden paths. She? She got fields and daily near-death experiences.

Everyone bullied her!

The more she thought about it, the more wronged she felt. Her usually bright, upturned eyes drooped pitifully.

He Jinshan frowned sharply. Something felt very wrong.

Jiang Henian, emboldened by the firm, focused gaze on her, finally opened her mouth to report her grievance—voice trembling with injustice:

“There was… someone—a bad man watching me use the toilet—hngh…”

“RIP—”

The moment she said it, the towel in He Jinshan’s hand was torn clean in half.