This was Commander Yang’s residence, so his presence here was perfectly normal. Yet, the timing of his appearance struck Lin Yu as rather ill-suited.
It was almost as if he had deliberately timed her bath, arriving to stand there precisely when she emerged.
“Are you finished bathing?”
“Mm…”
“You didn’t use much hot water, did you?”
“Not much at all. Plenty left for the seniors.”
The conversation itself was perfectly ordinary, but with water still clinging to her body and uniform after her bath, the entire situation felt subtly incongruous.
“I had actually intended to retract that statement, to tell you it was perfectly fine to use more hot water, especially with the cold weather settling in. But you had already begun bathing and couldn’t hear me then.”
The Commander Yang, who had intercepted Lin Yu at the doorway, seemed poised to offer words of concern, leaving her feeling quite overwhelmed. “So, was the water temperature too low? You didn’t catch a chill, did you?”
“No, no, the water temperature was just right, not cold at all.”
‘Wait, ‘overwhelmed’ by flattery? What on earth was that? Why would I even…’
Retrieving a pocket watch from his inner jacket pocket, he glanced at the time before extending an enthusiastic invitation. “It’s already mealtime, and you haven’t eaten yet, have you? Why not dine here before heading back?”
Commander Yang’s current demeanor struck her as distinctly abnormal. His attitude and tone towards her sent an involuntary chill through Lin Yu’s heart.
Their current positions were dire indeed. Commander Yang had effectively blocked her exit, leaving the bathroom, a dead end, as her only retreat.
Striving to maintain her composure, Lin Yu desperately sought an excuse to politely decline, drawing on the known circumstances. “The seniors haven’t returned yet. It would be too late to start cooking once they get back. I can simply wait for them on the sofa.”
He dismissed her suggestion. “Even if they’re not back anytime soon, my cooking isn’t half bad, you know. You haven’t tasted it yet, have you?”
With that single remark, Commander Yang moved away from the doorway and headed towards the kitchen.
Finally able to move from the restricted area, Lin Yu frantically searched for her belongings. Her helmet hung by the door, while her backpack and hat rested on the sofa.
“In that case… I’ll trouble you then, Commander Yang…”
‘A terrible atmosphere, truly terrible. Now that I’ve bathed, I need to find a way to leave. I can deal with my clothes back at Nangong’s place. I absolutely cannot linger here.’
“I’ve told you, there are no outsiders here,” Commander Yang reiterated, his emphasis carrying an unclear implication. “There’s no need for such honorifics. Just ‘Commander Yang’ will suffice.”
Lin Yu watched him disappear into the kitchen, where he began to tinker with ingredients and the sink. Her mind raced with unanswered questions about his intentions, so much so that she didn’t even touch the tea that had long since grown cold.
After much deliberation, she could only conclude that he must want something from her, though she couldn’t for the life of her pinpoint what specific favor he might be seeking.
It wasn’t just this moment; recalling all her past encounters with Commander Yang, Lin Yu realized the preferential treatment she had received far surpassed what any ordinary medic could expect.
Could Commander Yang have truly invested so much time, energy, connections, and resources in her simply because she was a colleague and friend to Nangong and the other senior medics? Or was it merely due to his benevolent nature, unable to tolerate the thought of a small, slender medic dying unjustly within the grim cells of the ‘Black-Clad Guards’ (TL Note: A fictional security or intelligence organization known for its harsh methods)?
Commander Yang’s actions towards her certainly painted him as a good man. Yet, Lin Yu wasn’t so naive as to believe that a typical old-army officer—one notorious for drawing phantom pay, leveraging connections, and maintaining mistresses—would selflessly and unconditionally give to her without expecting anything in return.
Picking up the teacup, she brought it to her lips and gulped down a mouthful, attempting to regain her composure. With renewed focus, Lin Yu began to survey the entire residence.
Her belongings were all within reach, easy to grab. The only escape route, she noted, was the front door…
A metallic object hanging beside the doorknob suddenly jolted her, causing her to choke on a mouthful of tea. She bent over, convulsing with coughs.
“Ugh, cough, cough… cough, cough…”
‘How could this be!’
After a fierce bout of coughing, her hand still clasped over her mouth, Lin Yu straightened up, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and dawning dread. Commander Yang had locked the door.
‘When? It must have been… after we entered.’
Struggling to recall Commander Yang’s movements beside her as she stepped inside, Lin Yu finally remembered his utterly natural gesture: a casual flick of the bolt, followed by the soft click of the door locking into place.
It wasn’t the integrated lock of the wooden door, but an additional metal padlock secured to the bolt, now glinting with a blinding white light under the glow of the room’s arcane lamp.
This was, in the truest sense, ‘a single man and woman alone in a room.’
Furthermore, facing Commander Yang, who had shown her such kindness, Lin Yu found herself bereft of both the reason and the courage to even leap up and playfully swat his military cap.
She raised the porcelain cup once more, taking a sip of the warm tea. Whether it was her utterly dreadful mood at play, she couldn’t say, but the taste struck her as truly awful—as bad, in fact, as that box of candies Nangong had once brought her.
‘Perhaps it was because both had been gifts from Commander Yang.’
‘This simply won’t do. I need to make a clean break, tell him directly that I have urgent matters to attend to and cannot stay here any longer.’
Draining the tea in a single gulp, she then used her fingers to meticulously pluck out the stray tea leaves that had entered her mouth from her hasty drink. Lin Yu set the cup down and walked directly towards the kitchen.
Just as she had done when requesting to use the bathroom, she asked directly, “I have some other matters to attend to. May I take my leave now?”
Commander Yang, who had been cutting something with his back to her, immediately ceased his movements upon hearing Lin Yu’s question. Still clutching the cleaver, he turned to face her.
His left hand slowly wiped the back and blade of the cleaver, while his right gripped the handle tightly. Those dark eyes, indistinguishable from any ordinary Diacla (TL Note: A fictional race or people mentioned in the story) person’s, fixed intently on Lin Yu’s face.
“Of course, I wouldn’t force you. Whether you choose to dine here or return to squat in the trenches, the choice is yours.”
To her surprise, Commander Yang agreed to let her go. “However, I do have one small request: to discuss a few minor questions with you before you depart.”
‘He’s not a bad person after all, quite reasonable.’
Concealing her hands behind her back, she nervously rubbed the stray tea leaves between her left fingers, forming them into a tiny ball. “Alright… as long as I can answer them, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Then I’ll begin,” he stated, setting the cleaver aside. He then took the rag hanging from his apron belt, wiped his hands, and continued, “Ever since our very first meeting, have you been keeping something from me?”
After thoroughly wiping the vegetable juice from his hands, Commander Yang removed the gold-rimmed glasses that habitually rested on his nose, folded them, and hooked them onto his collar.
The gesture instantly gave Lin Yu the unsettling illusion of a boss monster entering its second phase.
“Hiding? How… how could I possibly? There’s nothing of the sort! Commander Yang, you are the supreme commander of this unit; why would I ever hide anything from you…?”
Her rebuttal dwindled into a whisper, gradually receding from a normal tone to a faint, mosquito-like hum, until even she could no longer discern her own words.
Commander Yang’s words rang true; Lin Yu had indeed been keeping something from him, though she firmly believed it to be utterly inconsequential.
‘Was a medic’s gender truly such vital information? What difference did it make if a man performed surgery on a casualty versus a woman?’
‘Whether she served as ‘Medic Mister’ or ‘Medic Miss,’ her duty and unwavering conviction to heal and save lives remained unchanged.’
‘Since the issue was irrelevant, it was entirely reasonable for her to temporarily withhold the truth from Commander Yang.’
“You’re actually a woman, aren’t you?”
Those eight short words utterly shattered all her carefully constructed thoughts, as if clearing every card from a game board and replacing them with an equal number of ‘I’m doomed’ cards in her hand.