He was still wearing his crisp military uniform, which was wrinkled, with dust on his shoulders that seemed to have gotten from somewhere, and a bluish stubble on his chin. His deep eyes were bloodshot.
The war hero who shone brightly on the stage now looked tired and vulnerable.
He stood at the doorway, holding a thermos, staring at Su Wantang without moving.
The emotions surging in his eyes were something Su Wantang had never seen before. There was heartache, regret, and a kind of heaviness that she couldn't understand, which almost crushed him completely.
Su Wantang's heart felt like it was being tightly gripped by a hand, causing a suffocating pain.
Upon seeing Lu Linchuan arrive, everyone wisely said, "Commander Lu, please keep Tang company. We'll be leaving now."
After saying that, the three of them left, closing the door behind them.
Su Wantang reached out her hand to Lu Linchuan, her voice soft: "Linchuan."
Lu Linchuan seemed to be awakened by those two words. He took a few long strides, walked to the bedside, and placed the thermos flask heavily on the cabinet with a thud.
He didn't speak, but simply sat down on the chair by the bed, then stretched out his large, calloused hands and gently grasped Su Wan-"Wantang's outstretched hand."
His hands were cold and trembling slightly.
Su Wantang grasped his hand tightly in return, warming it with the warmth of her own palm.
"I'm fine. The doctor said it's just a superficial injury and I'll be fine in a few days," she comforted him, just as she had soothed his tense nerves countless times before after he returned from missions.
Lu Linchuan shook his head.
He raised his head, his bloodshot eyes fixed on her, his Adam's apple bobbing, his voice hoarse.
“Wife,” he began, each word seeming to be squeezed out from the depths of his throat, “it’s my fault that you’re in this situation.”
Su Wantang was stunned.
Looking at the deep self-reproach on her husband's face, she felt an overwhelming pang of heartache.
“Don’t talk nonsense,” she said softly. “How could it be your fault? She’s the one who’s crazy, she’s the one with impure thoughts.”
"No." Lu Linchuan interrupted her forcefully, but his eyes revealed a desperate stubbornness. "If it weren't for me, Zheng Nana wouldn't have hurt you."
These words, like a heavy stone, struck Su Wantang's heart, rippling outwards in cold waves.
She knew that Zheng Nana liked Lu Linchuan; everyone in the compound knew it. The way Zheng Nana looked at her always carried jealousy and resentment.
So, is Lu Linchuan blaming himself for Zheng Nana's infatuation?
But how could this be his fault? Being liked is not a sin.
"Lin Chuan, don't take everything on yourself," Su Wantang tried to comfort him. "You did nothing wrong. So many people like you, are you going to be responsible for every single one of them?"
Lu Linchuan did not argue further.
He simply lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes concealing all the emotions within them and shielding Su Wantang from his probing gaze.
He fell silent.
This silence made Su Wantang more uneasy than a heated argument.
She felt that her husband's apology meant more than she had initially thought. The phrase "It's my fault" carried too much weight, so much so that it made her feel breathless.
Lu Linchuan released her hand, stood up, and picked up an apple and a fruit knife from the cabinet.
He didn't speak, but simply kept his head down, peeling the apple in circles. His hands were steady, his knife work precise, and the thin peel fell down in a continuous line.
This is a skill honed through years of experience in the wild.
Su Wantang just watched him quietly.
She watched as he cut the peeled apple into even pieces, put them into a clean enamel bowl, and then used a fork to pick up a piece and bring it to her lips.
Su Wantang opened her mouth and ate the apple.
"It's very sweet," Su Wantang said with a light laugh. "Have a bite too."
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