Chapter 36.1

Yan Zeyang glanced at his father, then stepped forward to open the envelope. It was a large military district envelope containing seven or eight old sheets of paper. As he flipped through them, his hand clenched so tightly that veins bulged along the back of his hand.

The orderly standing at the door jumped at the sudden noise coming from the office. Then, muffled words filled with rage echoed through the room—something about “I don’t believe this!”

If it weren’t for the fact that the person inside was the commander’s son, the orderly would have rushed in.

Moments later, the office door swung open violently.

Yan Zeyang walked out with a stormy expression, gripping the crumpled pages in his hand. He didn’t even bother closing the door as he left.

…

Shi Lian had been doing well for himself. He had landed a job at a newspaper thanks to connections his father had pulled. Now, he was a minor celebrity at the publication, occasionally contributing stories to other magazines or even writing poetry.

At just over twenty years old, he was already considered quite accomplished. But at this age, his mind was also filled with… less-than-pure thoughts.

Now that his life had stabilized, he found himself thinking about that quiet girl from before.

Back when he lived in his old neighborhood, he had often seen her. She lived with an elderly woman—an old lady who, despite being over eighty, was sharp, energetic, and incredibly strict. Every time she looked at him, her eyes were as lifeless as a dead fish’s, cold and eerie.

Whenever he walked the girl home, she would run back as soon as she saw the old woman. He had even heard that the old lady often disciplined her, hitting her on the back or arms.

At first, they were just classmates. He was two years older than her. Despite her pale complexion, her delicate features made her stand out at school. The problem was her personality—she barely spoke a word.

But after he started giving her food a few times, she slowly warmed up to him.

Then he began walking her home.

And then…

He had tasted the pleasure of a woman for the first time.

For a young man, that was an experience beyond words—pure ecstasy. If one had never felt it, they wouldn’t understand the sensation of pleasure so intense it felt like flying.

That girl had no family around. Supposedly, her parents worked at a large factory, but they had left her behind to live with that lonely old woman.

For years, that home had only housed a teenage girl and a frail, aging woman.

At first, Shi Lian found that she was difficult to approach, but as long as you treated her well, she would trust you completely. After he was kind to her several times, she threw herself into his arms. The first time was when he was eighteen, on the way home from school, in a secluded grove where no one was around.

For more than half a year afterward, he secretly escorted her home. Then, one day, she suddenly stopped coming to school. He heard she had dropped out. Later, when he went to her house, he found her being brutally beaten by the old woman, lying limp on the bed as if she were on the verge of death. Her face was as pale as if she had lost all her blood.

When the old woman saw him, she glared at him with her fish-like cloudy eyes and, hobbling on her small feet, came at him wielding a stick as thick as an arm, cursing him as a beast. Shi Lian took several hits to the back before finally shoving the old woman to the ground and escaping.

After that, he never saw the girl again. A year later, his family moved to a neighboring city. When he recently returned to their old house, he asked around about her. He learned that the old woman had died a few months ago and that the girl had been taken back to live with her parents. Since then, there had been no news of her.

Countless nights, Shi Lian had dreamed of her. After all, she was his first woman. Ever since he had tasted that intoxicating pleasure, her image would appear in his mind day and night whenever he thought about it—the smoothness of her skin, the softness of her chest, the overwhelming ecstasy of the act, and the alluring sound of her moans.

In that forbidden era, in the secluded groves and grassy fields, beneath the twilight sky, it had been an incredibly thrilling experience. He had recalled it countless times. To preserve the memory, whenever he thought of her, he would refine the details in his mind, using every beautiful and poetic word he knew, as well as bold, erotic descriptions. Her body, her skin, her voice, her initiative, her climax…

He poured it all out in vivid detail. He never intended for anyone else to see these writings—he had simply recorded his memories for his own private enjoyment, to relive them in secret. In his mind, the girl’s fair body was sacred and beautiful. He had planned to destroy the writings one day when he no longer needed them, leaving no trace behind.

So, he carefully hid his writings among a stack of newspapers under his bookshelf. Late at night, he would take them out to read, the pages already worn from being flipped through repeatedly, stained with yellowing marks…

At the end of the pages, he had written the girl’s name:

“The girl who gave me her youth and her first time—I will never forget her. She was my first beautiful love. She had a beautiful name—Wen Xin.”

Recently, Shi Lian had been feeling a growing sense of unease. A few days ago, his mother had tidied up his room and, to his horror, had given away that stack of newspapers.

He frantically asked her who she had given them to. His mother said that some soldiers had come by the house, tired from walking, asking for a drink of water. They had also given her a good amount of money and ration tickets. They even stayed for lunch.

Later, one of the soldiers mentioned that he needed some newspapers to use as wallpaper. Knowing that her son worked at a newspaper agency, they said any amount would do and offered a generous sum for them. His mother, tempted by the money, had sold them the entire stack from his bookshelf.

The soldiers had left with the newspapers, and now, there was no way to get them back.

After furiously berating his mother, Shi Lian had been restless at work for the past few days, plagued by a sense of impending doom. He knew exactly what he had written—those explicit descriptions. If someone were to read them…

He could only hope that whoever got the papers was illiterate or didn’t care about the contents. He hadn’t signed his name, so he could always deny everything if it came to that.

That evening, as he was riding his bicycle home, he turned into a secluded alley. Just as he rounded the corner, a figure suddenly appeared and kicked him off his bike. The force of the impact was like being hit by a cannonball—he was sent flying nearly two meters before crashing to the ground, dazed and disoriented, unable even to groan in pain.

Before he could react, someone strode over, grabbed him, and dragged him into an abandoned house nearby.

Soon after, the sound of brutal beatings and agonized screams echoed from within.

“Stop! Stop! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything—it was me! I wrote it!”

Shi Lian’s glasses had been smashed into pieces, the frame bent beyond recognition. One of his front teeth had been knocked out, and his mouth was full of blood. The man had beaten him mercilessly, leaving him gasping for air. If he didn’t confess, he might not survive the night.

“I wrote it! It was all me! And everything I wrote was true! Her name is Wen Xin! We were classmates in middle school, sitting in front of and behind each other. We fell in love freely—it was mutual! We couldn’t help ourselves…”

The man’s grip was terrifyingly strong, his rage barely restrained. He lifted Shi Lian and slammed him against the wall, holding him there effortlessly. Shi Lian’s feet flailed helplessly in the air, unable to even touch the ground. The sheer strength of the man’s single arm was enough to kill him.

“Did you force her? DID YOU?!” The man’s bloodshot eyes glared at him like those of a beast on the verge of losing all control.

Shi Lian struggled frantically, his face twisted in fear. “No! No! I didn’t rape her! She—she seduced me first! She kissed me first! She threw herself into my arms! She said she liked me! It was completely consensual! I swear! I swear on my life! If I’m lying, may I die a horrible death! May my entire family die a horrible death!”

As soon as he finished speaking, he was thrown aside like a sack of potatoes. He slammed into the wall and crumpled to the ground, his bloodied face pressed against the dirt floor, barely breathing.

…

Meanwhile, Wen Xin was in the courtyard, hanging out bedding to dry. The warm sunlight bathed the blankets, making them fluffy and cozy. She liked to sun them every two or three days, dusting them off as she worked, humming a tune as she went.

🎵 “I will cross this desert, searching for my true self. Beside me, only a lone camel keeps me company…” 🎵

She swayed her shoulders in time with the song, occasionally moving her arms in rhythm.

🎵 “The wind blows past, the clouds drift by, and suddenly, a river of love appears. I step onto the desert and—” 🎵

Before she could finish, the front gate suddenly slammed open with a loud BANG!

Wen Xin was startled. She looked toward the door and was surprised to see Yan Zeyang. She immediately ran over joyfully.

“You’re back so early today! Are you coming home for lunch? I’ll cook—what do you want to eat?” As she spoke, she tried to snuggle into his embrace and wrap her arms around his waist.

Yan Zeyang loved it when she hugged him, no matter if it was from the front, back, or side. It always felt just right, and whenever she acted this way, he found it hard to refuse her anything.

But today, for some reason, he abruptly pushed her hands away and strode into the house.

Wen Xin froze for a moment. Why was he in such a bad mood? He had been fine when he left this morning. Without thinking much, she quickly followed him inside.

When she stepped into the house, he was standing by the wall cabinet with his back to her. Wen Xin instinctively sensed that something was off—the air felt thick with an oppressive tension, as if a storm was about to break.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly as she walked up to him.

Yan Zeyang turned around. His gaze was icy, piercing her like a stranger’s.

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? Didn’t sleep well last night? Your eyes are so red,” Wen Xin murmured as she reached for his hand.

Yan Zeyang didn’t move. He let her hold onto his arm as she slowly nestled against him, tilting her delicate face upward in an attempt to act coy.

“Are you tired?” Wen Xin asked with concern.

“Do you take the initiative like this with all men?” His voice was even colder than his gaze.

Wen Xin: “…”

She loosened her grip slightly and joked, “No, I’ve only ever been this forward with you. Don’t you like it?”

“Only with me?” His lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze sharp as a blade. “Tell me the truth, and don’t lie. Before me, have you ever liked another man? Who was he?”

Wen Xin was momentarily stunned.

Of course, she had liked people before. Before coming to this world, she had dated three boyfriends, all based on mutual attraction. But attraction didn’t necessarily mean anything lasting. After spending time together, feelings would fade, especially with how busy she always was. In a place where good-looking men and women were never in short supply, confidence in one’s own beauty was a given. If one relationship ended, another would begin soon after.

In art school, relationships were often fleeting. Couples came together and drifted apart quickly. No one really dated with marriage in mind. Deep down, most of them were just having fun, living for the moment, drinking and loving while they could, with no concern for the future.

No one in that world knew what their future held, and no one was in a hurry to settle down.

But when Wen Xin arrived in this era, she realized that while material life was scarce, emotions were far more devoted and pure than in her previous world. People like Yan Zeyang existed—men who wanted to take responsibility for a woman after only a few days together. She found it both fascinating and strangely reassuring.

In her past life, she had always been alone, relying only on herself. No one else had ever truly been dependable. But here, being by his side felt like shelter from the storm. As long as he was there, nothing could harm her. That sense of security was something her original world had never given her.

Before she could answer, Yan Zeyang’s eyes turned bloodshot with rage. “Have you kissed other men before? Have you been with someone else?”

His words made Wen Xin’s heart skip a beat.

Of course, she had. But in this era, she hadn’t.

For a brief moment, her gaze wavered. That tiny hesitation was enough to set Yan Zeyang off.

His fury, barely restrained until now, erupted. The veins on his forehead pulsed, his eyes burned red with pain, and he swept his hand across the low cabinet beside him. The telephone crashed to the floor with a loud bang, shattering alongside the teacups and saucers on the tea tray.

He stared at the woman before him—the woman he had wanted to marry. But all he could think about were the words written on those pages. The descriptions. The confessions. The other man’s claim that they had been madly in love.

Yan Zeyang had never lost control like this over a woman before. He had faced battles and bloodshed without fear. Yet now, he had fallen at the hands of one woman.

He stepped over the broken glass, each shard cutting into him like the pain searing through his heart.

A moment later, the front door slammed shut with a deafening “bang.”

Wen Xin was stunned.

She didn’t know what had just happened. She looked down at the broken fragments on the floor, then quickly ran out of the house. But by the time she reached the gate, all she could hear was the roar of a jeep engine as it sped away.

…

That evening at dinner, He Wenyan muttered, “What’s going on today? Neither of them came home for dinner? Even Zeyang is busy? I haven’t heard about any special military tasks lately.”

Wen Xin, who was helping Yan Miaomiao eat, felt uneasy. “Maybe they’re caught up with something else,” she said.

“Oh, right, what happened to the phone? How did the handset get broken?” He Wenyan asked.

Wen Xin quickly apologized, “Auntie, I’m sorry. I accidentally dropped it while cleaning. I’ll pay for a new one.” She didn’t dare mention that Yan Zeyang had smashed it—after all, breaking something needed a reason.

He Wenyan glanced at her. “Forget it. I’ll have Xiao Wang, the orderly, apply for a replacement. But be more careful next time. Telephones are sturdy things. How hard did you drop it to break it like that? If someone saw, they’d think the commander’s house had a fight so bad that even the phone got smashed.”

Wen Xin quickly promised to be more careful and then quietly finished her meal.

That night, she kept listening for the sound of the front door, but no one came home.

By the next morning, they were still gone.

Her thoughts began to spiral. He had been perfectly fine when he left in the morning, yet when he returned at noon, he had interrogated her and left in anger when she hesitated.

Yan Zeyang wasn’t usually unreasonable. If he were just jealous, she could easily coax him out of it with a little sweet talk. But something about yesterday felt different—off.

Had something happened that she didn’t know about?

At noon, Wen Xin packed a lunchbox and hurried to the military compound.

The same soldier from last time was still on duty at the checkpoint and quickly went inside to report her arrival.

She waited for a long time before Political Commissar Ye rushed over. He was wiping sweat from his forehead, as if he had just come from somewhere in a hurry.

Seeing Wen Xin, he looked slightly awkward but forced a smile. “Comrade Wen, have you been waiting long? You’re here to see Commander Yan? Ah… well… he’s not at the regiment these past two days. The organization has arranged some special training for him, so…”