Chapter 62 The Cold War Begins, Under the Same Roof

The SUV swerved roughly back toward the cold building, the shrill sound of brakes bringing this failed escape to a halt. Huo Tingxiao exited first, walked around to the passenger seat, opened the door, and unquestioningly pulled Su Wanqing out. His movements remained forceful, even carrying a hint of lingering hostility. But upon closer inspection, his taut jawline and tightly pursed lips betrayed a subtle hint of panic and clumsiness.

Su Wanqing didn't struggle anymore. All her strength seemed to have been drained from the struggle and crying. Like a puppet without a soul, she let him pull her, staring blankly at the ground, tears still etched on her face, yet there was no trace of emotion.

Huo Tingxiao pulled her into his house and slammed the door shut, as if to completely block out all outside sight and interference. The loud noise echoed in the empty living room, adding a touch of oppression.

He released her hand, seemingly realizing he'd used too much force. A clear red mark had been left on her wrist. His gaze lingered on the mark for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly before he quickly looked away. He ordered in a harsh tone, "Go back to your room."

Su Wanqing did not respond, nor did she even look at him. She just turned around silently and walked up the stairs stiffly, step by step, like a robot that had been given instructions, and returned to the master bedroom.

Huo Tingxiao stood there, watching her thin, resolute figure disappear down the stairs. His chest felt like it was clogged with cotton, making him feel suffocated. He yanked open his collar in frustration and punched the wall next to him, making a dull thud.

Things were completely out of his control. He hadn't expected her reaction to be so intense, let alone the way he would hurt her with such rude words. And when he saw her actually pulling her suitcase to leave, he felt an unprecedented sense of panic and loss of control, and almost without hesitation, he resorted to the most brutal and overbearing method to stop her.

Now, the people were brought back by force.

But then what?

What should he do?

Apologize? Huo Tingxiao had never admitted his fault to anyone in his life! Besides, although those words were harsh, to some extent... weren't they the truth? The beginning of their relationship was a transaction and a replacement. He just... just revealed the bloody truth to her!

But...why did his heart ache so much when he saw her pair of hopeless, empty eyes? Why did he feel so...regretful?

Huo Tingxiao fell into an unprecedented state of anxiety and conflict.

And from that day on, this family completely entered a strange, frozen state of cold war.

Although the two were forced to live under the same roof again, they seemed to be living in two parallel worlds that did not interfere with each other.

Su Wanqing completely shut herself off. She still prepared meals, but she no longer considered his tastes, only the simplest, most filling meals. She still cleaned the room, but she wouldn't touch anything in his study, not even glance at it. She no longer prepared tea for him, reminded him to take his medicine, or engaged in any unnecessary communication.

She moved back into the master bedroom, but every night she would place extra pillows between them, creating a clear boundary. She no longer waited for him to come home, no longer left the lights on for him. No matter how late he came home, he was greeted by darkness and silence.

She completely packed away anything that could cause misunderstandings. Her drawing pencils and paper were locked deep in a box, and she no longer even checked her phone for design-related information. She spent most of her time in her room or in the far corner of the living room, reading, often harmless, world classics or historical biographies.

She responded silently to his previous humiliation and orders with an extreme, cold "obedience".

It's as if to say: Look, this is the "trinket" you wanted. A soulless, mindless machine that only performs basic functions.

Huo Tingxiao was almost driven crazy by this silence and alienation that was even more complete and suffocating than before.

He would rather she cried, made a scene, pointed at his nose and scolded him, than be like this now. This kind of cold, impeccable "obedience" was like a mirror, constantly reflecting his previous jerk and ridiculousness.

He began to come home later and later, sometimes even staying out all night, trying to numb himself with work and alcohol. But no matter how late it was, as soon as he returned to this house, the pervasive, cold silence would instantly envelope him, leaving him nowhere to escape.

He found himself shamefully missing the days when he could see her busy figure at home, the faint aroma of food, and even the occasional sound of her turning pages.

He tried to break the deadlock.

Once, he deliberately "forgot" an unimportant document on the coffee table in the living room, expecting her to help him take it to the study as before, even if she just knocked on the door and put it at the door.

But she turned a blind eye to it. The next day, the document lay there untouched, even covered with a thin layer of dust.

Another time, his shoulder injury relapsed and the pain was severe, so he deliberately made a lot of noise in the living room and rummaged through the medicine box.

She was sitting on the sofa reading a book. When she heard the sound, she raised her head and looked at him calmly, her eyes as indifferent as if she were looking at a stranger. Then, she lowered her head very naturally and continued to read her book, as if she had heard nothing and saw nothing.

At that moment, Huo Tingxiao clearly felt a cold, sharp pain spreading rapidly from his heart, which was a thousand times more painful than the wound on his shoulder.

He finally realized that some damage, once done, might not be easily repaired.

He stood in the middle of the cold living room, looking at the woman who seemed to have completely isolated him. For the first time, he felt an unprecedented feeling of powerlessness and panic.

He seemed...really about to lose her.

It's not the physical departure, but the bone-chilling coldness and indifference after the death of the heart, which is more terrifying than a stranger.

The Cold War began, under the same roof.

The closest distance, the farthest gap.

And he caused all this with his own hands.