CHAPTER 183: FATHER 177

Tian Sangsang gazed at the already sleeping Meng Shuyan cradled in her arms, unable to look away no matter how much she tried. Her son, even in such an environment, remained adorable and delicate, as pure and angelic as ever.

Suddenly, a commotion arose not far away, seemingly a quarrel between a woman and a few soldiers.

Afraid of waking her son, Tian Sangsang didn’t approach too closely and instead covered Meng Shuyan lightly with her clothing.

She looked over and recognized the woman—it was Sister Qiu, a regular customer who often visited her shop.

"My son, my son! How could this happen? Didn’t you say you’d save him? Didn’t you say you could rescue him?!"

The man standing in front of her was holding a child in his arms. His expression was blank as he uttered coldly, "He’s dead."

"I’m very sorry, but he’s dead." He repeated, as immovable as a cold, unyielding statue.

Sister Qiu went mad, lunging forward and crying out in piercing grief, "Soldiers! Soldiers! What’s the use of soldiers if you can’t even save my son? He’s only eight years old! What kind of soldiers are you?! I think you were just slacking off—you didn’t try to save my son at all! You’re cowards, afraid to die! Otherwise, why was that boy saved, but not my son?!"

She pointed at the other little boy standing next to Jiang Jinghuai. When they had gone in earlier, one of the boys had been bleeding from the head, already unconscious—likely struck by a heavy object during the earthquake, dying from massive blood loss. The other boy had been luckier, only trapped under debris. Once the debris was moved, he still had a chance at survival.

One of these boys was Sister Qiu’s son, now lifeless in Jiang Jinghuai’s arms.

The soldiers behind Jiang Jinghuai had their heads bowed in helplessness. They didn’t want to explain—the fleeting life of an innocent child slipping away before their eyes was unbearable for them too. They hadn’t even had the chance to attempt a rescue. All they could bring back was a lifeless corpse.

The others nearby wore expressions of profound sorrow. Only the man at the forefront, with his handsome face streaked with some dust, revealed no visible emotion—his countenance was impassive.

"A person like you has no right to be a soldier! No right to be a member of the People’s Liberation Army!" Sister Qiu, overcome with fury, hammered her fists against Jiang Jinghuai, her voice trembling and tear-strained. "You say you’re sorry? You don’t look the least bit sorry to me!"

Was he not sorry?

Was he not grieving?

Was he not hurting?

But why must apology be written on one’s face? How was he to express it? Should he kneel and beg for forgiveness? Cry as he said he was sorry? This wasn’t the first time he had cradled a lifeless body. He had once held a corpse he most wished never to cradle—one bloodied, torn apart, ravaged. That corpse was of someone dearest to him. Back then, he had knelt in desperation and desolation on a battlefield enshrouded by smoke. Who came to tell him they were sorry then?

The ruthless, barbaric ones never apologize—just like this merciless earthquake.

It was a torment more brutal than any nightmare, one that could bring manly tears to his eyes whenever he dreamed of it at night.

"Take the child down," Jiang Jinghuai said as he turned away, his tone indifferent, his gaze dim and unreadable.

Another soldier stepped forward immediately to take the child from his arms.

Sister Qiu, enraged by his seemingly detached attitude, grew so furious it was as though the child in his arms was nothing more than garbage to be discarded at will.

"You... I’ll kill you! I demand that you apologize to my son!"

Jiang Jinghuai furrowed his brows, casting her a deep glance without saying a word, then turned and walked away.

The other soldiers tried to placate Sister Qiu, advising her to rest, but she suddenly snatched a dagger from one of their belts and charged forward in a rage. The gleaming blade hurt the eyes. Her movements were too swift—perhaps her child’s death had unleashed an unprecedented strength within her. No one reacted in time to stop her.

The dagger plunged into Jiang Jinghuai’s arm. His tall frame swayed slightly, but he didn’t flinch, not even in the slightest.

Jiang Jinghuai’s deep gaze darkened further. In front of Sister Qiu, he pulled the dagger out himself—the sound of blade scraping against flesh produced a nauseating squelch, and blood spattered with it.

Fang Tongzhou couldn’t stand it any longer and stepped forward, saying, "Sister, please calm down. It’s not that we didn’t try—it’s just that when we got there, your son was already..."

"Tongzhou," Jiang Jinghuai cut him off with a sharp look, the authority in his gaze compelling. His tone changed. "Take her away to rest. She needs rest."

Sister Qiu stared at him in disbelief, shaking her head. Suddenly, she broke down into heart-wrenching sobs, crying till her voice was hoarse. "Xiao Hu, Xiao Hu, why..."

Why indeed? Those who break under grief always ask why. Yet they never find an answer. Life is too complicated, too unpredictable. And at its core, it comes down to just three words: unwilling to accept. Even if it’s the will of heaven, how can they not shout against it, unwilling to submit? Unwilling to surrender to the heavens, unwilling to surrender to the earth!

Tian Sangsang stared dumbly, momentarily unable to process what she was seeing.

Jiang Jinghuai rubbed his temples and walked forward indifferently. As his gaze fell upon her, he abruptly changed direction toward her. The blood from his hand dripped steadily to the ground, blooming like flowers from the underworld.

"You, Tian Sangsang?"

His first question wasn’t about anything else, nor her son, but instead, "Tian Sangsang."

"Yes."

Jiang Jinghuai’s eyes darkened, his lips pressed into a thin line as he looked downward. "Then this is..."

"I told you, he’s your son."

He froze, quietly startled as his gaze slowly lifted.

"Don’t worry, he’s not dead. Just asleep," Tian Sangsang emphasized deliberately.

He chuckled lightly, a sudden laughter breaking out as if he truly found it amusing. "You always like to force things on me. It was like this five years ago, and it’s the same five years later."

"Buy one, get one free. Trace it back to the source, and it’s still your fault," Tian Sangsang retorted, her lips feeling dry as she met his gaze. She admired herself for holding her ground against his penetrating, dangerous, endlessly deep stare while managing to say something so nonchalant. But it was true—she was just the scapegoat.

Ever since this time-travel ordeal began, she had carried more blame than she could count.

He seemed to swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he said, "I’ll be back. Stay here and wait for me."

Tian Sangsang froze, dumbfounded. How infuriating!

Hey, where are you going?! Why does he get to brush off his sleeves and leave, while she has to stay here? And she was still hungry!

"One hundred sixty sheep, one hundred sixty-one sheep, one hundred sixty-two sheep, one hundred sixty-three sheep, one hundred sixty-four ducks... one hundred seventy-eight ducks... ducks. Mmph." Tian Sangsang rubbed her eyes and patted Meng Shuyan’s hair. "Son, I’m only waiting here for your sake. ...Ah, which number was I at again?"

Sure enough, that child’s father was rude to the core. He had disappeared without a word in the cave back then, and now he was pulling the same trick.

Footsteps, heavy and deliberate, came to a halt behind her. Tian Sangsang turned, frowning slightly. The intense smell of smoke engulfed her in an instant. In this sunset-lit dusk, the smell unexpectedly didn’t make her feel nauseous anymore.

So, he went off to smoke? (￣ー￣)