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Lin Wanjun froze.
Just moments ago, saving someone had felt so gratifying—
but now, trying to cover it up was like walking straight into the crematorium.
Right… how could someone who hadn’t even graduated from junior high possibly have the guts or the skill to wrestle with the King of Hell?
Abba abba*… anyone out there come save me?
(*A flustered, nonsensical mutter, like “uh, um, help me here.”)
“Mother, did you forget? Junjun’s grandfather used to be a military physician!”
Song Zhanjin added, “If it weren’t for Junjun’s grandfather back then, how could my grandfather still be alive today? Of course her medical skills were passed down!”
Hearing this, Li Yuetang slapped her thigh repeatedly.
“Yes, yes, yes! Look at me, how could I have forgotten something like that?”
Song Mingcheng shot his son a glare. “What do you mean ‘Junjun’s grandfather’? You’re married to Junjun now—he’s your grandfather too!”
Lin Wanjun’s face remained calm, but inwardly, her heart gave a jolt.
In the original plot, it had never gone into such detail—only a brief mention that the Lin family’s old master and the Song family’s old master were sworn brothers, a bond of life and death. So it turned out it had been a life-saving debt.
No wonder the Song family had been willing to grit their teeth and marry a woman with such a notorious reputation. Mm, explained like this, it made perfect sense in the story.
“Hey, Junjun, where did you get those life-saving medicines?”
A moment ago, Lin Wanjun had been mentally shouting that Song Zhanjin was her savior—
and the very next second, she wanted to wring his neck.
You bastard!
You really know how to hit me where it hurts, Song Zhanjin. I swear, I suspect you were sent by the heavens to torment me!
“The quick-acting heart pills are one thing, but adrenaline? I’ve never even heard of it before—how could you possibly be carrying it around with you?”
Song Zhanjin looked as if he were brimming with curiosity, gazing at Lin Wanjun expectantly, waiting for her to clear up the mystery.
Seriously, what normal person carries adrenaline and a syringe on them?
But Lin Wanjun was a master at playing Tai Chi with words. A fiercely competitive woman with a PhD would never admit defeat, not even if it killed her.
“Why should I tell you?”
She let out a mocking laugh and began to wield her sharp-tongued villainess skills, digging up old grievances to throw back in his face.
“A mean, cold-hearted woman like me, with no compassion—how am I worthy of solving your doubts? Oh, that’s right, I’m nowhere near as kind and magnanimous as Miss Dong. I’m not even fit to carry her shoes!”
“Mhm, if it were Miss Dong, she’d definitely sympathize with the little girl right along with you—send her money, bring her food, arrange everything down to the tiniest detail, neat and tidy!”
…
Song Zhanjin was utterly speechless.
Seriously? How could this woman be so petty?
That incident was ages ago, yet she still held a grudge? And could whip it out now just to argue with him?
Since Lin Wanjun had just saved a life and earned merit, Song Mingcheng and Li Yuetang were unconditionally on their daughter-in-law’s side. They both scolded Song Zhanjin so fiercely that their spittle nearly drowned the company commander.
Watching Song Zhanjin’s dead-inside expression as he endured a mixed double scolding from his parents, Lin Wanjun turned her face away and secretly chuckled.
Serves him right! Absolutely serves him right!
After a whole night of commotion, dawn had already broken.
The train had been running for a full day and night, now heading deep into the northwest. Outside the window stretched the rugged loess plateau, its gullies weaving endlessly. Passing through villages, rows of cave dwellings came into view.
Song Mingcheng sighed with some emotion. “I was born in a cave dwelling just like that. That year, my grandfather had just been promoted to division commander. Fresh from the battlefield, he came rushing over to see me!”
Hearing this, Lin Wanjun recalled the military uniform in her ring, still stained with fresh blood, and the eight bold, impassioned brushstrokes: ‘If I live, the nation perishes; if I die, the nation survives.’
“And then? Was Great-Grandfather amazing—did he win a lot of battles?” Lin Wanjun asked curiously.
At the mention of his grandfather, Song Mingcheng’s face shone with pride.
“Of course. Even though he came from a scholarly family—halfway through life he put down his pen to join the revolution—when it came to fighting, he was every bit the soldier. But…”
His expression dimmed slightly. Song Mingcheng sighed. “It’s just a pity that during a grueling defensive battle, he gave his life to cover the retreat of allied troops.”
Lin Wanjun let out an “Ah,” unable to believe that a division commander of such rank would personally go to the front lines to shield the retreat. Shouldn’t someone that high up be issuing commands from the safety of a rear command post?
“Ah, well… it’s not entirely certain he died. After that battle was won, when they swept the battlefield, they never found his body. All they found was the ancestral ring lying in a shell crater.”
Song Mingcheng added, “The very gemstone ring your grandmother gave you before.”
At that, Lin Wanjun finally confirmed the identity of the ring’s previous owner—it had belonged to Song Mingcheng’s grandfather, Song Zhanjin’s great-grandfather!
Suddenly, a wild, audacious thought burst into her mind.
Could it be… that Great-Grandfather never died at all, but was still alive somewhere in the hidden depths of the space?
After all, time inside the space was frozen.
Hmm… she’d have to find a chance to thoroughly search it someday!
“The ring was handed to your great-grandmother as a keepsake, then passed to your grandmother. By rights, it should have been given to your mother, but she was afraid her carelessness might lead to losing it, so she refused to take it.”
Song Mingcheng glanced at Lin Wanjun’s bare ring finger and asked, “What about the ring? Why aren’t you wearing it?”
“Wouldn’t that be too flashy and attract trouble? I just quietly put it away!”
Lin Wanjun lied without so much as a blush.
No sooner had she finished speaking than Song Zhanjin took her hand and stared at her ring finger.
“You’re hurt? Why is there a red mark around your finger?”
Lin Wanjun froze, eyes widening involuntarily.
What did that mean? Could Song Zhanjin actually see the faint imprint left by the ring?
“What red mark? I don’t see anything,” Li Yuetang said, pulling Lin Wanjun’s hand closer and examining it for a while. “Song Zhanjin, is there something wrong with your eyes?”
Lin Wanjun quickly echoed, deliberately pretending to see nothing.
“Exactly—what mark? You probably just didn’t sleep last night and your eyes are playing tricks on you.”
Now it was Song Zhanjin’s turn to be completely baffled.
Huh? What was going on? Did he really have something wrong with his eyes?
Just as Song Zhanjin was starting to doubt his own sanity, the little girl from last night appeared again. She stood timidly, clutching the hem of her clothes, her wide eyes—like those of a startled fawn—fixed longingly on the eggs sitting on the coffee table.
“Hungry? Come, sit here!”
Song Zhanjin shifted aside, giving up his seat so the little girl could sit, then fetched her a piece of sweet, honeyed cake.
The girl wolfed it down, stuffing it into her mouth in just a few bites, even picking the crumbs off her clothes and eating them clean.
After finishing three pieces of cake, an egg, and a piece of flatbread, she was finally full.
Just like the night before, she left without a word, curling up again by the restroom door, her eyes vacant and lifeless.
Lin Wanjun felt a dull, indescribable ache in her chest, mixed with helplessness and fatigue.
“Kind lady, you saved that old man last night—why not go all the way and save this little girl too?”
The woman who had been holding a child the previous night came over again, her face plastered with a fawning smile.
Lin Wanjun rolled her eyes.
“Sure, why not? How about this—you let her come with me, I’ll feed and clothe her, and even find her a school to attend. Mm, she’s better off, I’m better off, everyone’s happy.”
The moment she heard the word “school,” the little girl suddenly stood up, looking at her with wide, eager eyes.
“That’s not possible!”
The woman’s voice rose sharply, her face tightening with alarm.
“What are you so worked up about? Don’t tell me she’s your daughter?”
Lin Wanjun looked at the woman with a half-smile, a flicker of disgust flashing in her eyes.
“What daughter? I… I don’t even know her. I just think she’s pitiful, that’s all!”
The woman added, “What’s the point of giving her food? Why not give her some money—three to five yuan, maybe ten—so the little girl can buy herself a few pieces of clothing to wear?”
“Do you see two words written on my face?”
The woman glanced at Lin Wanjun’s delicate features. “Wh-What two words?”
Lin Wanjun sneered. “A Sitting Duck.”
“That’s three words,” Song Zhanjin muttered under his breath, but when he caught the warning look in Lin Wanjun’s eyes, he quickly shut his mouth.
Having run into a wall, the woman left grumbling and cursing under her breath.
Still fuming with nowhere to vent, Lin Wanjun caught sight of the clear, puppy-like innocence in Song Zhanjin’s eyes and promptly kicked him in the foot.
Song Zhanjin clutched his foot, hissing in pain, but didn’t dare voice a single opinion.
To marry such a fierce, domineering wife… truly a family misfortune, a family misfortune indeed!