First, then, love.

The frosted glass door closed in front of me, the lock clicked shut with a crisp sound.

The hallway and the bathroom were effectively separated into two different worlds.

Shu Yao stood there, barefoot, her feet on the cold marble floor tiles.

This posture made her feel ridiculous.

The window at the end of the corridor wasn't closed tightly, and the late autumn night wind, carrying the damp chill of the rain, seeped in through the crack and passed through the corridor.

cold.

The cold air crept up from the soles of my feet, seeping into the gaps between my bones.

My calves were trembling uncontrollably, and my whole body was shaking.

The God of War lay on the cushion in the entryway, whimpering softly. Its head was pressed against its two front paws, its amber eyes staring at the closed bathroom door, then at Shu Yao, who was standing frozen in place, while its tail slapped the ground impatiently.

The unpleasant smell lingered in the air.

Shu Yao slowly lowered her arm that was hanging in mid-air.

With arms hanging at his sides, his fingers unconsciously curled and tightened, his nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms.

pain.

But it's nothing compared to the pain in my heart.

She looked down at the messy footprints covered in yellow mud at her feet.

Just now, she didn't even put on her shoes, abandoning all restraint and pride, and rushed towards him with joy and tears in her eyes.

The results of it?

He dodged away, even taking a large step back, his back slamming heavily against the door, avoiding her as if she were some raging monster.

He said he was dirty and smelled of blood.

Shu Yao bit her lower lip hard, her teeth sinking deep into the tender flesh of her lips.

The force was too great, and it broke the skin.

A faint, metallic, sweet taste spread through my mouth, mingling with the bloody smell in the air, making it hard to tell which was more nauseating.

Wronged.

Overwhelming grievances, like a burst dam, instantly engulfed her.

Four days and four nights, a total of ninety-six hours.

She was alone in this empty 300-square-meter house, staring at the phone screen that might light up at any moment, and watching the bloody and gruesome scenes on the television.

She couldn't eat; the frozen dumplings tasted like raw meat, and she vomited until she almost brought up bile.

She couldn't sleep; when she closed her eyes, all she saw was a hail of bullets and Lin Shufen's casual remark, "widow."

She was terrified, so terrified that she hid under the covers and trembled, so terrified that she didn't even dare touch the cello.

Finally, he returned, standing before her unharmed.

She just wanted to hug him, just wanted to make sure he still had a temperature, to make sure he was still breathing.

What did we get in return?

It was his cold face, his impatient rubbing of his temples, and his icy "I don't have the energy to argue."

Then, like an emotionless machine, he grabbed his clothes, turned around and went into the bathroom, leaving her alone in the cold hallway.

The sound of running water could be heard from the bathroom.

"Splash—"

The sound of water was loud, but when it hit the tiles, it was muffled.

Shu Yao knew that he was washing away the bloodstains and dirt from his body.

But what she didn't know was that in the bathroom, just a door away...

He Zheng was standing under the showerhead, the cold water turned up to the maximum, pouring directly over his head, seeping in along the edges, irritating his chapped wound, causing excruciating pain.

But he didn't even frown.

He was exhausted, his body was pushed to its limit, and after the adrenaline subsided, what followed was a deep, bone-deep fatigue.

My mind was filled with the flashes of fire at the assault site, the muffled groans of my comrades falling, and the deafening explosions of submachine gun fire.

His body was covered not only in blood, but also in a strong aura of killing intent and death.

He dodged just now because he didn't want to touch her with those hands that had just committed murder, and he didn't want her to be tainted by that dark and disgusting aura. He was afraid that he would lose control of the violence within him and frighten her.

He just wanted to wash himself clean and flush all those negative emotions down the drain.

He didn't explain because he felt it was unnecessary. A man's scars and dark side are something he can deal with on his own; there's no need to expose them and make his woman worry.

This is his consistent logic and style.

But in Shu Yao's eyes at this moment, this logic was nothing but blatant indifference and disdain.

"Clatter."

A scalding tear fell unexpectedly onto Shu Yao's bare instep.

It's like a breach has been smashed open.

Then, the second drop, the third drop, fell in a continuous line.

Shu Yao suddenly raised her hand and roughly wiped her face with the back of her hand, forcefully wiping away her tears.

The back of my hand rubbed against the corner of my delicate eye, causing it to sting and turn red.

"Who cares?"

She gritted her teeth and squeezed out those three words, her voice thick with nasal tone.

When subjected to extreme injustice, the defense mechanism instinctively transforms into sharp aggression.

You dislike her, right? You find her annoying, right? You don't want to talk to her, right?

Row.

Then I won't say anything, then I won't see you.

Shu Yao suddenly turned around, barefoot, and strode towards the master bedroom with heavy steps.

In the master bedroom, the main lights were off, with only a small nightlight on the bedside table casting a dim yellow glow.

The blankets on the gray bed were a little messy.

A few nights ago, she slept alone on it, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

Shu Yao walked straight to the bedside.

He bent down, grabbed the silk pillow he was sleeping on, and tucked it tightly under his armpit.

Then, grasp the edges of the silk quilt with both hands.

He used all his strength and pulled it outwards with a sudden jerk.

The silk quilt is large and heavy; Shu Yao usually finds it difficult even to change the quilt cover.

At this moment, however, it was like an enraged little lion, bursting out with astonishing strength.

She forcefully pulled the entire quilt off the big bed.

Half of the blanket was dragged on the floor, while the other half was tightly clutched in her arms, crumpled into a huge, messy bundle.

The heavy blanket pressed against her chest, almost obscuring her vision.

She took a deep breath, adjusted her posture, hugged the heavy bedding roll, turned around, and prepared to leave.

Just then.

The sound of water in the corridor stopped.

Immediately afterwards, with a "click," the frosted glass door of the bathroom was pushed open.

A plume of warm white steam billowed out through the crack in the door.

He Zheng came out of the bathroom.

He changed into a clean pair of black cotton sweatpants, his upper body bare.

The blood-stained gauze on my left shoulder had been removed and replaced with a clean medical bandage, which was wrapped tightly, highlighting the lines of my muscles.

His short hair was wet and dripping water.

Water droplets slid down his hard cheeks, across his angular jawline, dripped onto his broad chest muscles, and disappeared into his black waistband along his V-line.

He was holding a dry towel and casually wiping his hair.

His face was pale, his eyes were sunken, and the weariness between his brows was so deep that it seemed impossible to shake it off.

He had just stepped out of the bathroom when he looked up and saw this scene at the door of the master bedroom.

Shu Yao was barefoot, wearing a thin silk nightgown, holding a huge silk quilt in her arms, and had a pillow tucked under her arm.

Like a little refugee preparing to flee overnight.

The little refugee heard the noise, turned around, her eyes red and swollen, and stared intently at him.

Her usually spoiled and smug eyes were now swollen like walnuts, filled with tears that hadn't fallen, making her look pitiful.

He Zheng's hand, which was drying his hair, froze in mid-air.

His sword-like eyebrows furrowed together, forming a deep "川" (river) shape.

The veins in my temples were throbbing, and my headache was getting worse.

"Where are you going?"

He spoke, his voice hoarse, revealing a sense of defeat and helplessness.

Hearing his half-dead tone, Shu Yao's anger flared up instantly.

The resentment instantly turned into anger.

"Can't you see? Make room."

Her chin was slightly raised, her voice trembled, and her tone was sharp and barbed.

"Didn't you find me annoying? Didn't you lack the energy to argue? Didn't you not even want me to touch you?"

She spoke rapidly, rattling off a string of words, giving him no chance to interrupt.

"You didn't answer my phone for four days and four nights, and when you came back you gave me the cold shoulder. What, does your family have to kneel down to greet you when you come back from a mission as the captain of the special police unit?"

He Zheng took a deep breath and put down the towel in his hand.

My chest heaved heavily.

"Shu Yao, I'm very tired today, stop fooling around."

He took a step forward, trying to get closer to her. "Sweetie, put the blanket down and go to sleep."

"Me, causing trouble? Yes, I just love to cause trouble."

When Shu Yao saw him approaching, she instinctively took a step back, hugging the blanket in her arms tightly, as if she were holding onto her last line of defense.

On the surface, she appeared stubborn and arrogant, but inside she was trembling and wailing.

No...don't come any closer...I'll come closer if you want...Waaah...please comfort me.

Despite thinking this way, he still couldn't hold back with his words.

"I, Shu Yao, have been spoiled since I was a child. I'm just being difficult, I'm just being immature, and I just can't stand your deadpan face."

The tears in her eyes finally couldn't be held back anymore, and they rolled down her cheeks, splashing onto the silk quilt in her arms, leaving a small dark water stain.

But her voice rose higher and higher.

"Since you're so bothering me, I'm leaving. You can sleep alone!"

She practically shouted those words.

It exhausted all my strength, and also exhausted all the fear and anxiety of those four days and four nights.

After saying that, she didn't look at him again.

Clutching the blanket that had been dragged to the floor, with a pillow tucked under her armpits, she stuck out her little bottom and wiggled her way out of the master bedroom.

Bare feet stomped hard on the floor tiles, making a loud "thump-thump" sound, as if venting their dissatisfaction.

As it passed by him, it stirred up a breeze carrying the scent of tuberose.

He Zheng stood still.

Her outstretched right hand froze in mid-air, her fingertips brushing against the smooth silk quilt corner, but she couldn't grasp it.

He was too tired, and his reaction was more than half a beat slower.

He didn't even have the strength to explain, and could only watch helplessly as she swept past him like a gust of wind.

Shu Yao, carrying the blanket, walked through the corridor and headed straight for the guest room at the end of the corridor.

The guest room door was wide open.

It was pitch black inside, and a cold breeze swept over us.

The sun doesn't shine into this room, and the temperature is several degrees lower than in the living room, like an icebox.

But Shu Yao doesn't feel cold at all right now.

She felt a burning fire inside her, which made her internal organs ache.

She roughly threw the silk quilt and pillow she was holding onto the single bed.

At the end of the corridor, under the light at the master bedroom door.

He Zheng remained standing there, his tall figure appearing somewhat lonely, his dark eyes fixed on her direction.

Her eyes were churning with emotions she couldn't understand.

Shu Yao bit her lip hard, tasting an even stronger metallic taste of blood.

She raised her hand and grabbed the doorknob of the guest room.

Her gaze was fixed on the man, tears blurring her vision.

She used all her strength to pull back sharply.

The door slammed shut.