Chapter 13

“The fact that your calves are regaining sensation is a good sign,” Tang Yajun said with undisguised delight.

Over the past few days, Lu Chongjin had also felt it—feeling was gradually returning to his legs.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, noticing that her spirit and energy looked much better than the day before.

“I’m completely fine now. Look!” Afraid he wouldn’t believe her, Tang Yajun stood up and spun around in a little circle for him.

The wide hem of her trousers flared like a blooming flower as she twirled.

Her loose black hair brushed against his cheek, carrying a sweet fragrance that drifted into his nose.

Lu Chongjin’s fingers twitched slightly.

Footsteps approached from behind—it was Cui Shan.

He bent down and whispered a few words into Lu Chongjin’s ear.

Lu Chongjin nodded. Cui Shan gave a polite nod to Tang Yajun, then pushed the wheelchair toward the courtyard gate.

Night had already fallen. Seeing them head into the next courtyard, Tang Yajun assumed he was going to visit his childhood sweetheart, and she quickly followed after them.

She trailed them all the way to the abandoned woodshed in the rear courtyard.

Sensing the presence behind them, Cui Shan asked softly, “Shall I persuade Madam to return?”

Lu Chongjin shook his head. “No need. Let her see for herself.”

Cui Shan pushed open the door. Inside, a man was bound tightly, curled up on the ground.

Even from a distance, Tang Yajun caught the foul stench and instantly regretted following—but her curiosity drove her to keep watching.

Moments later, a muffled scream echoed from inside.

Then came the sound of the man mumbling something in a low, broken voice.

Tang Yajun edged closer and peeked through the crack in the door. She had never seen such a scene before, and instantly clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.

Suddenly, the woodshed door swung open from the inside. Cui Shan pushed Lu Chongjin out.

A chilling, bloodthirsty aura radiated from Lu Chongjin’s entire body.

Tang Yajun shivered uncontrollably.

He glanced at her, his eyes signaling her to follow.

She quickly gathered herself and trailed them back to the courtyard.

After they both washed up, they returned to their room. But Tang Yajun’s hands and feet still felt icy cold, showing no sign of warmth.

Lu Chongjin’s expression softened a little. “Were you frightened?” he asked.

Tang Yajun forced herself to hide the lingering fear, and only then did she truly realize—this man before her had survived countless storms of blood and steel.

Until now, their interactions had given her the illusion that she could control him at will.

“No,” she said stiffly. “Let’s rest early.”

She climbed onto the bed and lay down, stiff as a corpse.

Lu Chongjin propped himself up and lay down beside her.

Earlier, when he noticed her following, he hadn’t let Cui Shan stop her. He had deliberately let her watch, intending it as a warning.

He hadn’t expected her to be so timid—that just one scene would frighten her this much.

He turned and drew her into his arms, only to realize that she was trembling.

“What is it you’re afraid of?” he asked in a low voice.

Tang Yajun hesitated. She couldn’t let him see through her.

Turning in his arms, she lifted her head to meet his eyes.

His gaze was filled with scrutiny, waiting for her to confess with her own mouth.

Tang Yajun recalled the time she had examined his injuries in bed—the way he had borne it with restraint and control.

She placed her hand on his firm chest, feeling the strong heartbeat beneath his skin.

This was a living man, not some demon risen from hell.

What was there to be afraid of?

Her hands kneaded his chest slightly. Soft yet firm.

As if unsatisfied, she slipped her hand beneath his robe.

His skin was warm and smooth beneath her fingers.

Tang Yajun was so absorbed in the sensation that she failed to notice his expression darkening.

Lu Chongjin endured, and endured again. But when she showed no sign of stopping, he finally lifted her chin.

His star-like eyes were shadowed with a complicated gleam. “How long are you planning to keep touching me?”

Her hands froze against the hard ridges of his abdomen. She didn’t dare venture lower.

Guiltily, she murmured, “My hands are cold… I just wanted you to warm them.”

She quickly pulled her hand back, lowering her head like a child who had done something wrong, too guilty to say more.

Lu Chongjin felt a pang of regret. Tonight he had gone too far—he never should have let her witness something so bloody.

He turned and gathered her into his embrace, his broad hand wrapping around hers.

At that simple gesture, Tang Yajun’s calm heart suddenly raced wildly, as if it might leap out of her chest.

After a moment of silence, she clasped his hand with her other one, her delicate fingertips tracing over the veins that stood out across the back of it.

Say what you will—physically, Lu Chongjin certainly had capital to be proud of.

Pressed so close together, he too noticed that she was behaving differently tonight.

Tang Yajun felt parched, her body growing hot. She wriggled slightly, trying to tug the blanket down.

“Don’t move.” His low, hoarse voice rumbled above her head.

When she felt the change in his body, Tang Yajun’s cheeks flushed scarlet.

So he had recovered—his reactions were far quicker than before.

At the moment their eyes met, she understood—he had deliberately led her to that woodshed earlier.

Anger stirred in her chest. She wanted to punish him in her own way.

Her hand drifted downward, brushing ever so lightly where a man could hardly bear it.

Lu Chongjin clenched his jaw, forcing himself to resist the rising heat, and shifted his body slightly backward.

But that only gave her the chance she wanted—she immediately followed, clearly unwilling to let him off so easily.

His breathing grew heavier and heavier. In the dark, they locked in a silent standoff.

Feeling his hot breath mingling with hers, Tang Yajun grew dazed. Her lips parted slightly, releasing a faint puff of air.

That tiny gesture nearly shattered Lu Chongjin’s control. He lowered his head and kissed her.

Heat engulfed Tang Yajun.

Their breaths grew feverish.

She tried to pull back, but his hand slid behind her neck, holding her firmly in place.

Only when Tang Yajun felt she was suffocating did he finally release her.

“Why didn’t you breathe?” In the darkness, his eyes gleamed with a frightening intensity.

“You—”

Before she could finish, his lips were at her temple, trailing slowly to her earlobe. His mouth pressed against her slender neck, where the skin tightened under his touch.

Tang Yajun tilted her head back, her body trembling at every brush of his lips.

“Don’t…” she whispered, barely clinging to her rationality.

Lu Chongjin lifted his head from her soft skin, his lips still damp.

“You don’t want this?”

Tang Yajun drew a long breath, forcing her wildly beating heart back into her chest.

She knew she had overplayed her hand tonight. Things between them were never truly hers to control.

“My monthlies haven’t ended yet,” she said at last, clutching her disheveled collar together and turning onto her side, back facing him.

Frustrated, Lu Chongjin let out a harsh breath and lay back flat.

It felt as though a boulder weighed on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

At dawn the next morning, Tang Yajun awoke to find herself alone in the room.

After breakfast, she went to the next courtyard to see her mother-in-law, Wen Mulan.

But as soon as she entered the gate, someone stepped in front of her.

It was Lu Zhengang, her husband’s second uncle, who had left their conversation unfinished that other day.

Tang Yajun greeted him politely. He nodded and gestured for her to follow.

With so many doubts already weighing on her heart, she eagerly went after him, hoping at last to get some answers.