Lin Yu’s only response was silence.
She should have realized that a casual remark like ‘he’s actually a boy’ could never sustain such a prolonged acquaintance, interaction, and conversation.
The elaborate disguise crafted by Nangong and her seniors had long since crumbled, leaving her to shrink alone within the confines of a lie, still playing a role that had ceased to exist.
“If you remain silent, I’ll assume your assent.”
Upon hearing Commander Yang’s words, Lin Yu’s voice was tinged with bitterness as she asked, “When did you discover…?”
“Deceiving others is hardly the mark of a good child. While the full truth only became apparent after those individuals took you away, I must confess, I harbored suspicions from the very beginning. How could someone like you possibly be a ‘man’?”
The unwanted truth, now laid bare before him, plunged Lin Yu into a profound sense of dread and despair.
“It was only when I pulled strings to secure your release and reviewed your military records that I confirmed my suspicions. Frankly, your disguise was far too careless. You claimed to be a man, yet your military file unequivocally listed your gender as ‘female’.”
Each word uttered by Commander Yang struck Lin Yu’s chest like a heavy hammer, rendering her breathing labored and shallow.
“It wasn’t a disguise, merely a means of self-preservation,” she attempted to explain, defending her actions.
“Whether it was a clumsy fabrication or a self-protective facade, that is entirely your prerogative. What I wish to discuss is not the ‘why’ behind your actions.”
He held no concern for why Lin Yu, in concert with her medic seniors, chose to present as male; his true interest lay in her demeanor now that the truth had come to light.
“I’ve conveyed my impressions of you; it’s only fair that you reciprocate, much like the principle of ‘courtesy demands reciprocity’ in social interactions.”
The very words Lin Yu had once employed to instruct others were now turned back upon her, leaving a profoundly bitter taste in her mouth.
From some unknown recess, he produced a small comb, using it to meticulously smooth his bangs to the side.
She hadn’t noticed it before, but if one were to disregard his distinctly modern military uniform, Commander Yang was, in fact, quite the classical gentleman.
Forcing herself to endure the unpleasantness churning within, Lin Yu offered the Commander the hastily constructed response: “I believe, I believe you are a good person.”
*Beep*, a ‘good guy’ card (TL Note: A Chinese slang term, ‘haorenka,’ often given to someone who is kind and helpful but not romantically desired.).
Would a man from another world truly grasp the underlying meaning of such a phrase?
Likely not.
Having engaged in a brief internal dialogue, Lin Yu finally lifted her gaze to Commander Yang, who, quite evidently, was far from pleased with her ambiguous reply.
“Good in what regard?”
“…You’ve been kind to me, assisting me in both life and work. You sought connections far and wide to rescue me when I was embroiled in that wrongful accusation, and you offered cigarettes and alcohol to mend my relationships when my comrades in the trenches ostracized me.”
Just as she had previously mused, the Commander’s solicitous attention towards her far surpassed anything an ordinary ‘medic’ could reasonably expect.
“You’ve done so much for me, yet I find myself utterly unable to reciprocate, and it fills me with profound guilt.”
Commander Yang extended a hand, raising his index finger before her eyes, shaking it gently from side to side as he spoke. “No, no, no, you needn’t feel guilty. Not a single one of these actions was something you requested of me. In other words, everything I’ve done for you stems entirely from my own volition.”
“Thus, I won’t demand any repayment from you, just as I wouldn’t insist you stay for dinner… Speaking of which, how would you like to try a riddle? There’s a prize if you guess correctly, and no penalty if you don’t. Care to give it a shot?”
Mid-sentence, Commander Yang abruptly shifted gears, unceremoniously inviting Lin Yu to a small riddle game. Without waiting for her consent, he plunged ahead, asking, “What is it that can never be achieved solely through one-sided will?”
Lin Yu, entirely disinclined to humor his playful antics, simply shook her head emphatically. “I don’t know…”
“The answer is ‘love,’ and what I’m about to say next is—”
Those four words detonated in her mind like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky, momentarily stunning her into unconsciousness before jarring her awake once more from the swirling chaos.
Her most dreadful premonitions had, in this very instant, materialized into reality.
Only now did she grasp why her seniors had so suddenly tried to find her a partner that day: if she already harbored affections for someone, they would have ample justification to dissuade Commander Yang from pursuing her.
Yet, this realization dawned upon her too late; she had already been the recipient of a direct and unequivocal declaration of love from her commanding officer.
All of Commander Yang’s prior actions now echoed that ancient adage: ‘unsolicited generosity often masks ulterior motives.’ As Lin Yu possessed nothing of value worth stealing, it stood to reason that the Commander’s true desire was the former.
‘Alas, it seemed her rather flat chest had ultimately caught the Commander’s eye.’
‘Truly, those with a preference for small breasts ought to be cursed.’
In truth, she had long harbored such anxieties. With the immense power wielded by officers, if one day she were to catch the eye of a superior who then made an unreasonable demand, would she truly dare to refuse?
Platoon leaders, company commanders, battalion commanders, regimental commanders; non-commissioned officers, lieutenants, field officers, general officers… though her looks, she mused, probably hadn’t captivated the generals yet. Still, if any of them were to brazenly declare, “What’s the harm in spending a night with me? You should be grateful,” and then resort to force…
Would she truly stand a chance of surviving their clutches?
Military regulations explicitly forbade such treatment of medics; any officer caught and reported would undoubtedly face a court-martial, ultimately receiving a hefty sentence of correctional labor.
Or perhaps they’d be ‘treated’ to laver egg drop soup (TL Note: A Chinese euphemism for execution by firing squad, implying a grim end with ‘no vegetables, no flowers, and certainly no soup.’).
Yet, military regulations also explicitly forbade commanders from drawing salaries for phantom soldiers; had anyone ever seen Commander Yang subjected to a thorough investigation for such an offense? Should the matter truly escalate to court, the judges would undoubtedly side overwhelmingly with them.
Lin Yu’s favorable treatment by the judge during her previous ordeal was a direct consequence of Commander Yang’s behind-the-scenes machinations and the explicit directive of His Majesty the Emperor, who had personally attended the proceedings.
Should she find herself in court again, her powerless and uninfluential side would, in all likelihood, suffer a crushing defeat. Not only would she be sexually exploited without recourse, but she would also be branded with the ignominious label of ‘false accuser.’
Infusing every last ounce of her strength into the desperate query, Lin Yu, clinging to a final sliver of hope, posed the question to Commander Yang: “Can I refuse?”
He nodded readily. “Of course, that is your freedom. I would never compel anyone, just as with your seniors; their profound affection for me blossomed from free will and mutual consent.”
The information she had gleaned from her seniors was now confirmed by his own lips, yet it still resonated with an abstract, almost unbelievable quality.
Her long-held anxieties finally dissipated. It appeared that even denizens of this alternate world understood the profound truth that ‘a forced melon is never sweet.’ Commander Yang was, unequivocally, a good man; despite possessing the power and means to take her by force, he nonetheless respected her personal autonomy.
“…Given all this, please let me return. So much has transpired today; I am utterly exhausted.”
Her words were no mere pretense. She had spent the entire day engrossed in reading and writing letters within the bunker, only to be half-driven to distraction by that imbecile. Then, foolishly tempting fate, she had gone to observe his mental state, a decision that had nearly driven her to her grave with sheer exasperation.
Finally, she had slunk away from him in dejection, returned to Commander Yang’s quarters to use the bathroom for a shower, and then… there was nothing more.
Commander Yang turned back, retrieved his cleaver, and with a swift motion, sliced the vegetables on the cutting board in two. “If you’re weary, sit for a bit. Soon, you can sample my cooking; a full stomach will banish your fatigue.”
‘What an absurd notion! I am already privy to the nefarious thoughts you harbor for me; how could I possibly remain here for a meal?’
And to even consider food prepared by his own hands? Unthinkable.
While interacting with that imbecile left Lin Yu mentally drained and infuriated, conversing with the Commander, who had just confessed his feelings, would undoubtedly leave her equally exhausted, albeit from fear.
“My apologies,” Lin Yu interjected, swiftly revising her statement. “I suddenly feel invigorated, quite capable of walking back to the trenches at this very moment.” She implored him to release her immediately. “So, please, let me leave.”
To avoid becoming the fifth concubine, and to spare herself the indignity of competing for a man with her own seniors, Lin Yu swore she had to escape this place.
“Don’t be so hasty,” Commander Yang interrupted, removing his glasses before settling them back onto his face. “I have one final matter to discuss: what is slated to occur on the front lines over the next two days.”
Her hands, clasped behind her back, clenched until they ached, yet Commander Yang had not yet granted her permission to depart. Lin Yu could only grit her teeth and steel herself to listen further.