Chapter 5

She turned her head away in anger, avoiding his touch, striking and kicking with her limbs. However, he would not let her escape, lowering his head to seal her small, flower-like cherry lips. She protested with muffled sounds, her feet kicking incessantly, and her hands pushing against him. Yet, she could not push him away, resorting instead to tugging at his clothes. Still, it was in vain; no matter how hard she tried, she could not tear them apart

He took off his general's hat and handed it to the maid. Looking up, he saw Sister Zhang coming down from upstairs with a full tray of food. He gestured for her to bring it over. There were four dishes and a soup, which he had specifically instructed to be prepared according to the northern flavor before he left, and there was not a single sign of it having been touched.

The shower drizzled gently, like fine rain, slowly falling upon her. She leaned against the tiles and gradually slid down. The bathtub was warm and comfortable, with a moderate temperature

The door was flung open in a hurry, and he rushed in: "What happened?" I had just answered a phone call in the study when I heard her scream.

Only then did she raise her head, hurriedly pushing his hand away, a faint blush appearing on her pale face, as if she had applied exquisite imported rouge. In his eyes, she seemed as charming as a flower. "Let go of me!" she said resentfully.

She is on this side. And he is on that side. In fact, it is merely a distance of two or three steps, yet it feels as if they are separated by the ends of the earth. He merely looks at her with a blank expression, saying nothing. There are no words spoken, nor any indication of feeling.

For quite a while, he did not speak. She was almost in despair. Then his voice finally broke the silence: "Tomorrow afternoon, I will have someone pick you up to see him. Are you satisfied now?"

She pushed the door open and walked in, and the look of surprise on his face was something she would never forget in her lifetime. With tears streaming down her face, she asked him: "Why?" He merely looked at her, coldly, and with each word, very clearly said: "For revenge." She did not understand; she could not comprehend. What enmity could there be between her and him?

His hand slid lower and lower, eventually reaching a secret place. She closed her eyes, in a state of panic, struggling desperately: "No—please don't—" He remained indifferent, stirring up a tremendous storm. Her strength waned increasingly, leaving her with no choice but to accept helplessly. Tears, however, fell slowly from the corners of her eyes, one by one, shining like pearls.

He laughed and said, "So are you going to wear it or not?" She fell silent for a moment, then reluctantly put on the coat. She walked to the window, not wanting to be too close to him. His mood instantly improved, and he turned around to take off his military uniform jacket, changing into a cozy sweater, and sat down on the sofa very close to her to read the newspaper

He leaned down, gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him, and said coldly: "If you choose not to eat, that is your decision! But let me tell you, if you skip a meal, your fiancé will not be able to fill his stomach either. If you go without four meals, he will likewise have nothing to eat. If you wish to be affectionate, I will ensure you have affection!"

Tears flowed incessantly, almost enough to form a river. Finally, one day, the child departed amidst her tears—blood covered the entire bed, a shocking sight.

But in just a few seconds, she immediately covered her mouth and rushed into the changing room. From inside, the sound of retching could be heard. He pushed the door open and saw her sitting on the floor, continuously vomiting into the toilet. This scene was one he had experienced before. She was vomiting just as violently, as if the world was turned upside down. Somewhere in his heart, it felt as if it had been touched, soft and utterly disordered. He walked over, gently patting her back, helping her to breathe steadily. She was vomiting just as violently, as if the world was turned upside down. Somewhere in his heart, it felt as if it had been touched, soft and utterly disordered. He walked over, gently patting her back, helping her to breathe steadily.

She ignored him, slowly turning over, her body feeling both sore and weak. She attempted to sit up with the blanket, but even this small movement pulled at a certain spot, sending a sharp pain through her. She let out a soft "uh" in response.

He threw a cashmere coat over and said, "Put it on!" She seemed to have not heard at all, as if he did not exist in this place. His anger had not yet subsided, and seeing her expression only fueled his rage further. He yanked her up from the sofa and said, "You don't want to wear it, do you? Then don't wear anything at all." He reached out to pull at her clothes.

Zhang Ma knocked on the door a few times before entering the room. She placed the porridge, a few small dishes, and two sets of bowls and chopsticks down, then went out. He served her a small bowl, which was still extremely hot as it had just been cooked. Even through the delicate bone china bowl, he could feel the heat. He blew on it for a while and tasted it with his chopsticks; the temperature was just right, and then he handed it over: "Have some!"

He coldly stated everything: "My father is Duan Zongkang from the South. I am his third son, Duan Xulei. Do you think you know how my father died? If it weren't for your father Helian Xiao sending assassins to kill my father, he would never have been left incapacitated. He would not have died so early! I came to the North to study under the name Chu Tianlei, and it was also arranged by my father. The purpose was to gather intelligence from the North—" I came to the North to study under the name Chu Tianlei, and it was also arranged by my father. The purpose was to gather intelligence from the North—"

She struggled, breaking free from his grasp, picked up the silver spoon in front of her, and slowly took a bite, making an effort to swallow it down. Soon, she took a second bite, then a third, her mouth stuffed to the brim, nearly overflowing. She swallowed with all her might, eating desperately, as if someone were competing with her for the food—before long, she had devoured the entire large bowl of porridge in front of her.

She covered her ears, shaking her head desperately, not wanting to hear any more: "Don't say it! Don't say it!" No wonder her elder brother had been attacked one after another; it turned out that he was responsible for everything. She realized that she was merely a tool for his revenge. This realization left her unable to stand. She collapsed weakly onto the ground. Touching her belly, holding back tears, she asked: "What about me and the child? To you, are we nothing at all?"

His heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled down. He bent down to pick her up and gently dried her with a large Western-style towel, as if he were wiping the most precious treasure in the world, extremely careful and tenderly said: "You should sleep until you fall asleep in bed"

She was finally awake, struggling to push him away: "Don't—let go of me—" How could he possibly let her go? Yet he chuckled softly, his hot breath brushing against her delicate ear: "Don't do this, or do it like this?"

She almost thought she would faint from crying, but she did not, not even a sound of weeping escaped her lips. It turned out that nothing is more sorrowful than a heart that has died. After a long time, she pointed at the door and said: "Get out! Get out immediately! If you dare to appear before me again, I will definitely hand you over to my elder brother"

He took a long time to come out from inside, walked to her side, looked at the window, and said softly: "Go wash up. I have already prepared the bath water." She turned around, took her change of clothes, and entered the changing room

"No, please, really, I can't take it anymore!" She buried her face in the pillow, sobbing and pleading for mercy. Yet he refused to relent, his body launching a fierce assault. She trembled incessantly, curling up into a small ball, choking out, "Chu Tianlei, what will it take for you to let me go?" He lowered his head, leaning close to her ear, roaring with a mix of exhilaration and anger, "Let you go! You first owe me a child!" She trembled violently, her entire being slipping into unconsciousness! Roaring with a mix of exhilaration and anger, "Let you go! You first owe me a child!" She trembled violently, her entire being slipping into unconsciousness!

He had been harassing her, making it impossible for her to sleep peacefully. She turned over, trying to escape. Yet he persisted, slowly sliding down from her smooth neck. A rich fragrance enveloped them as he covered her completely, greedily indulging in that intoxicating place. She trembled slightly, as if half-awake, yet she had already let out a soft "ying" sound. He felt even more exhilarated, his movements becoming heavier, as if he wanted to swallow her whole.

It turned out to be night already. The entire room was dim, with only a lamp lit in the corner. He seemed to be absent. This was fine; she did not want to face him at all

She did not turn her head, staring blankly out the window, as if she had no soul. He reached out and pulled her over, pointing to the sofa: "Sit down for me." This time, she was surprisingly obedient and sat down as instructed. Only then did he place the bowl and chopsticks in front of her, saying: "No matter how unappetizing it is, you must eat a little for me, okay?" She turned her head, and even looking at him seemed to be filled with disdain.

She saw him searching for something in the elder brother's study—later, the elder brother was ambushed in Anyang, shot multiple times, and was urgently sent to the hospital—while Kong Jiazong and others were waiting for her outside the operating room, they said: "The commander’s itinerary is so secretive this time; I can’t figure out how people in the south found out!" Indeed, the elder brother's itinerary has always been known only to a few in the residence.

He was instantly filled with anger. She truly preferred to starve rather than eat a single dish from his household for Dong Muxun. It had already been more than a day since she had eaten anything. With a frozen expression, she instructed Sister Zhang, "Have the cook prepare a bowl of plain congee and a few side dishes. Bring them to me immediately." Sister Zhang responded, "Yes," and hurriedly exited.

She only felt discomfort, and in the end, it seemed she had even vomited all her bile. Slowly, she stood up, pushed his hand away, and walked out.

She remained silent, allowing him to wipe slowly. After a long while, she finally spoke: "Let me meet Brother Dong once." His expression changed abruptly, as if he was about to lose his temper again. She turned her head away

He gazed at the snow-white, jade-like little face, with long eyelashes tightly closed, resembling two small fans. Only at this moment was she gentle and would not provoke his anger. As soon as she lay on the bed, her breathing began to even out. Her warm breath, fragrant like orchids, gently wafted onto his face. He only felt a wave of heat, and he reached down to take off his leather shoes and slipped in beside her

He walked up to her, lifted the bowl, took a silver spoon and scooped a small amount of porridge, bringing it to her lips, softly saying: "Come, have a few bites—" She seemed like a statue, neither raising her head nor opening her mouth. One second, two seconds, three seconds—his posture remained frozen for several dozen seconds, before he suddenly slammed the bowl onto the thick carpet. With a muffled sound, the bowl shattered into pieces on the ground, the porridge splattering into a puddle, resembling dirty snow, a grayish mess.

She is tormenting herself. He walked over slowly and closed the window with a snap. She didn't even blink, still gazing out the window. In fact, this is the vacation villa that belongs to his family, surrounded by nothing but trees for several miles, with no other houses in sight. Aside from the vast green woods and the occasional bird flying by, she probably sees nothing else. But Sister Zhang said she has been looking like this for an entire day. Aside from the vast green woods and the occasional bird flying by, she probably sees nothing else. But Sister Zhang said she has been looking like this for an entire day.

He sighed, touched her forehead, and turned to enter the changing room. He soon came out, holding a towel. He sat on the bed and gently wiped the sweat from her forehead, saying, "Are you hungry? I had the kitchen prepare something, and it's been kept warm."

She suddenly woke up, exclaiming, "No!" drenched in cold sweat

She curled up in a daze, allowing him to carry her and place her on the bed. In fact, it was only spring, and the weather was still chilly. Snuggled under the blanket, she felt soft and snug. Unconsciously, she began to drift into a haze once more

One night, she woke up in the deep of night and found that he was not there. At the door, she heard him talking on the phone, his voice extremely soft. She leaned against the door panel and could only intermittently catch a few words: "The sixth day - Mu Yang Bridge - "

Her gaze finally came into focus, as she turned her head to look at him, as if he were a stranger. That unfamiliar look in her eyes caused a certain nerve deep within him to ache, and it seemed to be growing increasingly painful.

He glanced at the time; it had already been more than half an hour, yet she still had not come out. He tried pushing the door a few times, but it was locked from the inside. No matter how hard he pushed, it did not budge at all. A sudden wave of fear washed over him, and he kicked the door forcefully, which opened with a sound. Striding in, he saw her lying sideways in the bathtub, gazing at him in a daze, seemingly unaware of what had happened.

With a furious shove, she pushed the door open with such force that the doorknob slammed against the wall, producing a dull thud. The curtains in the room were drawn back, and the wind whistled through the open window. She was sitting on the sofa by the window, wearing a thin deep pink qipao draped with a silver-gray cashmere shawl, resting her chin on her hand, gazing into the distance in contemplation. From this angle, she appeared so slender and delicate that it seemed she could be blown away by the wind at any moment. Although it was already spring, the wind still carried a hint of chill. With her frail body, she was at risk of falling ill at any time.