Chapter 7: Does He Need a Woman's Compassion?

Now that she was here, she decided to make do—after all, she wouldn’t be staying in this village for much longer. The main purpose was to find that man. She was not one to be obsessive, yet she felt compelled to understand who he was while she still had time. There was an inexplicable feeling in her heart; if she didn’t find him, she would regret it.

Glancing at the narrow, plankless room, she resigned herself to placing her belongings down. There was no light inside, so she braved knocking on the neighbor’s door.

A man opened it, revealing a dim kerosene lamp inside.

“Um… could I borrow a lamp?” she asked.

Without a word, he turned and fetched the only small kerosene lamp in the room.

“Thank you. I’ll return it right after I clean up,” she said.

He nodded.

Taking the lamp, she was about to turn, then hesitated and asked, “Could I also borrow a chair?”

He went inside and brought out a chair.

She noticed the chair’s legs were all different colors, likely repaired over time. Looking around at the disarray, a wave of helplessness washed over her.

It was too late now; she could only pile up some straw roughly and spread her quilt over it. Luckily, the weather wasn’t too cold—otherwise, she would have frozen through the night.

She made a simple bed but couldn’t find anything to use as a door panel; she would have to look again tomorrow.

Returning the kerosene lamp to the man, she went back and lay down on her makeshift bed in the dark. From her backpack, she pulled out a pair of scissors, clutching them tightly in her palm.

Probably in both her past lives, she had never slept in such a miserable place. Sleep came uneasily, made worse by the pungent smell of fermenting cow dung outside.

Just as she closed her eyes, the sound of the door opening startled her.

Was the man coming out?

Holding her breath, she gripped the scissors tighter.

Could he be connected to the man who attacked her that night?

Footsteps approached, but he only glanced at her and realized she was awake on the straw.

He did not move further.

She thought, if he dared come closer, the scissors in her hand would immediately tear him apart.

After a while, the man left.

She was left speechless.

What did that mean? He just left like that?

Eventually, overcome by exhaustion, she fell asleep despite the harsh surroundings.

At dawn, her hand twitched, and the scissors she’d held all night dropped to the floor. Only then did she realize her arm had gone numb from gripping too tightly.

A delicious aroma of food drifted in, and her stomach growled.

She hurriedly got up and found the sun already hanging low in the sky.

It was incredible—she had actually fallen into a deep sleep!

Her arm still tingled as she tidied up and stepped out of the broken house.

The man, carrying a chipped earthenware pot, set it down on a mud wall.

Their eyes met.

“Good morning,” she greeted.

“Hm,” he nodded coolly, his expression distant.

She felt it was better to keep her distance from strangers.

She took out some dry rations and offered him a triangular rice cake. “Thanks for looking after me last night.”

“Looking after?” he echoed her words, puzzled.

“That kind of looking after?” he asked again, seemingly not understanding.

She explained, “I borrowed your lamp.”

Was that what he thought of as looking after her? Was she thanking him for not harassing her?

He took the rice cake and examined it. It resembled a traditional triangular rice cake but was not quite the same.

She said, “I invented this version—added eggs and some wild vegetables for a different taste.”

She bit into one herself.

The man said, “Lu Jingchuan.”

She looked up at him. So that was his name.

In her past life, she had no connection with him; she only knew of him from the news.

Her brow furrowed slightly, for the name was both a proud mark and a sorrowful memory.

He had died defending the country’s territorial integrity.

Noticing his sharp gaze, she said, “Sounds like you’re not a local educated youth.”

Lu Jingchuan nodded but said no more. Yet the woman’s strange look toward him—full of reverence and a subtle, inexplicable pity—lingered in his mind.

Did he need a woman’s pity?

She assumed his somber expression stemmed from disliking her prying into his privacy.

Honestly, she had little interest in others’ secrets.

She nodded and turned to return to her own space.

But Lu Jingchuan asked, “I made some porridge. Would you like some?”

She looked back at him and accepted without hesitation.

After confirming he was a good person, she no longer feared harm.

Indeed, if he had been a threat, he would have acted last night—there was no reason to wait.

So they sat together, sharing porridge and rice cakes.

Lu Jingchuan rarely spoke but suddenly asked, “Who was the man last night?”

“My ex-husband.”

Her ex-husband?

He pondered the words and felt no need to inquire further.

He cast a deep look at Xia Xiaoyu. Although drugged that night, he had retained some awareness; the other party was a pure young woman.

So this woman before him, despite sharing the same scent, was clearly married—not the same person.

Seeing him lower his gaze into silence, she thought it was the modern mindset—an instinctive reaction to the word divorce.

She was indifferent to it.

After all, she was someone who had traveled back in time; her worldview differed from the people of this era.

They tacitly agreed not to ask each other questions thereafter.

After finishing his meal, Lu Jingchuan left.

Xia Xiaoyu remained, determined to tidy up the little house—at least to find something to serve as a door.

She discovered the small room had once had a door, though the panel was missing.

She intended to visit the old village chief for information.

Just as she stepped out of the cowshed, she saw a group approaching.

At the forefront were Xu Anxin and Ma Shuyue.

“Come on, hurry up! Today, we must make that promiscuous Xia Xiaoyu pay!” Xu Anxin declared.

Following her was Xu Chunhua, echoing, “Yeah, she always acts all high and mighty, even fooled the old village chief. Today, we have to catch that adulterous couple!”

The villagers’ emotions flared; they raised hoes and brooms, their spirits inflamed.

Suddenly, someone grabbed the collar of Xia Xiaoyu’s shirt, pulling her back into the bushes.

Startled, she turned to see Lu Jingchuan frowning.

“What are you doing here?” he asked sternly.

His expression darkened. “Are you sure you want to go out now?”