You're Strong But Now You're Mine
Chapter 173 - 172: Expectation

Chapter 173: Chapter 172: Expectation

"Coward."

In the master bedroom of Thornheart Garden, Qing Lan had just finished her shower and was happily making the bed when she froze at the word, turning to see Mi Die leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, half mocking, half amused. Qing Lan’s cheeks and ears turned red as she stammered,

"Coward, what do you mean coward, I’m not a coward, this isn’t being scared, this is reading the situation, seizing the moment, moving as smoothly as flowing water..."

This editor-in-chief gig really wasn’t for nothing—Qing Lan’s literary chops had visibly leveled up.

"You are a coward," Mi Die said, "Things that could be made clear with one sentence—you have to beat around the bush and tiptoe. If I hadn’t pushed you, you’d still be out in the rain, all moved by yourself and for yourself."

Qing Lan argued, "What do you know—"

Mi Die scoffed, saying, "I’m married with a kid. I chased my husband myself, you think I don’t understand? You think I don’t know what’s going on in your little heart?"

Qing Lan lowered her head, embarrassed. Even though she’d grown up in the scheming halls of Xiangxue Sea, in the end she was just a twenty-year-old girl. How could she possibly out-talk someone like Mi Die, who’d clawed her way through this messy world for decades?

"I feel like I’ve done my best..."

Mi Die, usually so quiet, went all out tonight—or maybe her motherly instincts only bloomed for certain people, "What you call ’your best’ is just telling him, ’I actually still want to sleep with you every night,’ huh? Please, that’s hilarious."

"What else was I supposed to do?" Qing Lan couldn’t help but retort, "I was ready for him to say no, but he agreed—so isn’t that enough? Just being like before is plenty, I’m already so satisfied!"

"A girl like you should have a ton of sweet nothings in her heart, right? Say them! If you don’t, who’s supposed to hear them—"

"How could I possibly say those things!"

The room fell silent. Qing Lan turned her face away, asking, "Was your husband... Li Sang?"

"How could it be that blockhead," Mi Die scoffed, "My man was a real looker, charming and funny, thoughtful—a truly good guy. When I entered my apprenticeship, I saw him and decided, ’he’s the one’; took me five days to win him over."

"Five days?"

"Yup, men really aren’t that hard to handle. Just say stuff like, ’Wow, you’re amazing,’ compliment him, make direct eye contact once in a while, touch him by accident, show him a bit of care, and next thing you know he’s the one chasing you—"

"I’ve done all that," Qing Lan said, "We even sleep holding each other at night."

This time, Mi Die fell silent.

"So, what does your husband do now? You always have to stick by Young Master as his guard—doesn’t that affect your marriage?"

"He doesn’t work, he’s just been waiting for me all this time."

Qing Lan looked a little puzzled—Mi Die had just been bragging on her man, but he turned out to be a kept man?

"Li Sang was the third of Young Master’s bodyguards," Mi Die said evenly, "When Young Master left the Jing Family, the Old Master sent both me and my husband to protect him. About a month in, Young Master was almost killed in an assassination, and my husband fought like hell to save him and drive off the assassin. No attacks on that scale happened after that... probably because the Old Master warned whoever was behind it."

"Counting now, it’s been nearly ten years. He’s been waiting down below for me all that time. We promised to be master and apprentice again in the next life."

Qing Lan said, "I’m sorry..."

"No need to be sorry," Mi Die smiled brightly, "We do this job, we’re always mentally prepared. We rarely talk about ’the future,’ because there probably isn’t one. But saying ’in the next life’ is different—it feels like a promise."

Qing Lan asked, "Then what about your child? You’ve always been serving as a guard..."

Mi Die said, "Their grandparents are raising them. I go back once a month to see them. They never lack for anything, and the money I make, together with the money my husband died for, is enough for them to attend the National Academy and for me to grease the right palms, get them into the Heyang Army as officers—that’s a peaceful life for them."

"They must really miss their mom..."

"Not really. To them, I’m probably just some stranger who buys them clothes and treats once a month," Mi Die shook her head. "They might even resent me. Last time I went home, their grandparents told me how the other kids call them bastards with no parents and bully them... No dad, a mom who isn’t even like a mom—they must hate me for giving them a childhood like this."

"So I’ve accepted it. As long as my two kids can grow up, I’m satisfied. Whether they resent me or not, there’s nothing I can do."

"What about you? Have you accepted your fate too?"

Qing Lan froze, staring blankly at Mi Die.

"I know there’s a storm raging in your heart, even if there’s no need for all those feelings. But I get it," Mi Die glanced at the rain outside the door, "It’s like with driving—the rearview mirror only needs a glance every so often. The most important thing is looking ahead. Dwelling on self-pity and the past—that’s how you end up with regrets."

"A few years back, even Third Young Master could force-marry a maid, so what on earth are you afraid of now?"

Qing Lan turned her head away, "It’s not that I need that—I just want to keep living how I am, that’s all."

"Is that so? Then one day, everything he gave you—and didn’t give you—he’ll give to someone else, and you won’t even have the right to be jealous."

Whether or not Qing Lan would ever get jealous was uncertain, but after being poked by Mi Die’s prickly words, her eyes sure were red now.

Mi Die found herself annoyed, wishing she could strip both her and Young Master, toss them onto a bed with lights everywhere, nowhere to hide, and let them at each other till neither of them had anything left in the tank.

"So what do you really want? Do nothing, and just mope yourself into missing out on everything?"

Qing Lan wiped her tears and said, "If he wanted me, I’d already be his. If he doesn’t, there’s nothing I could say that’d change it. No matter how much I say, it’d just be a burden to him—might even make him think I’m getting greedy."

"I just don’t want him thinking I’m trash, that’s all."

Mi Die paused, suddenly remembering those two kids who, even though they’d been bullied, never mentioned a word of it when they saw her.

Suddenly, a voice came from the doorway, "Since when did you two get so close?"

Qing Lan instantly turned away to compose herself. Mi Die straightened, face unreadable, and replied, "Young Master,"

Le Yu came in, glanced between Qing Lan and Mi Die, and scratched his head, saying, "Is it maybe easier for girls to get along? Li Sang and I hardly say ten words to each other in a day..."

"Miss Qing Lan was just bored, so I chatted with her for a bit," Mi Die said calmly, "Did you overhear anything, Young Master?"

Hearing this, Qing Lan tensed up, fear and hope mingled in her gaze as she looked at Le Yu. Le Yu waved her concern off, "It’s still raining outside. I just heard you guys talking—but had no idea what you said."

Qing Lan breathed a silent sigh of relief—but there was still some indescribable disappointment in her heart.

She suddenly realized why Mi Die had even been talking with her—Mi Die had actually calculated when Young Master would come back, trying to make sure he returned in time to hear Qing Lan’s true feelings!

Old lady’s got tricks for days. Like I need that kind of help!

Still... raising two kids on her own must be rough. I should probably try to convince Young Master to up her pay later...

Mi Die gave Le Yu a thoughtful look and nodded, "Hope you both sleep well tonight."

For whatever reason, even though Mi Die’s words were everyday well-wishes, they sounded weird as hell to Qing Lan.

After Mi Die left and closed the door, Le Yu sprawled out on the bed with a huge stretch, "Ahh—today was so exhausting."

Last night he’d watched Silver Blood fireworks over Half City, pulled an overnight shift, attended a Silver Blood council meeting afterward, came back to find his brother’s corpse, sent Jing Qingfu down to join the rest of the family, and as soon as that was done, had to start taking over the Jing Family...

It had clearly just been one day, but it felt like he’d lived through twenty Chapters’ worth of drama—of course Le Yu was exhausted.

Thornheart Garden used to be Jing Zhengwei’s quarters in Jing Garden—his room since he was twelve, so it wasn’t palatial by any means. Technically, he could stay in the Patriarch’s chambers now, but the old Patriarch had just died; or he could have slept in a younger brother’s room, but that brother was dead too.

Where he slept didn’t really affect him being the head of the Jing Family now, so Le Yu chose Thornheart Garden. Maybe it was the fatigue or his body catching up with him, but as soon as he laid down, he felt himself nodding off fast.

"Qing Lan, turn out the lights."

Qing Lan obediently switched them off, tiptoeing onto the bed, heart pounding with nerves.

What should she do? Lie still? Scoot over to him like usual? Or maybe...

Before she made up her mind, she felt strong, powerful arms pull her close into an embrace. For a moment, she was caught off guard, then her whole body relaxed—just moments ago her joy and sorrow had been like wolves at the door, and now none of it seemed to matter at all.

She just wanted to sleep deeply like this, and then open her eyes tomorrow to see Young Master still refusing to get up.

But on the other side, it was actually Le Yu whose mind was in a mess.

In fact, he had heard what Mi Die and Qing Lan were talking about.

It didn’t even matter if he had overheard or not. The moment he saw Qing Lan standing at his door, soaked to the bone and biting her lip, beet red as she told him, ’I still want to sleep with you every night,’ he would have had to be clueless not to get it.

"No love letter in the world could compare to a girl blushing over him."

He wasn’t an idiot; he’d already picked up on Qing Lan’s special feelings, he’d just never thought it possible before.

After all, for Qing Lan, Jing Zhengwei was supposed to be the bad guy—her jailer, her tormentor, the one who treated her like trash.

And he also couldn’t help but doubt Qing Lan’s feelings—not that they weren’t real, but because he’d heard of something: Stockholm syndrome.

Because Jing Zhengwei used to have her life in his hands, and after Le Yu took over Zhengwei’s role and started treating her better, it was very possible for Qing Lan to develop a sense of ’tamed’ gratitude.

"People can only stand so much fear. Rather than be terrified daily by a madman, most choose to hand over their lives to the villain, to see every act of kindness as a ’gift’—and forget their suffering was caused by that same person."

"Maybe Qing Lan really did fall for him. But was that love sincere, or just a twisted craving for security born from terror?"

"He thought he was fighting for Dongyang’s independence, but now here he was using his power to domesticate and seduce a naive girl. Didn’t that make him as doggedly double-standard as the next guy?"

Not that his doubts were necessarily correct—Le Yu wasn’t some worm that lived in Qing Lan’s gut.

And anyway, if a gorgeous, hardworking, truly amazing woman actually liked him, so what if he was a hypocrite?

Le Yu wanted her. Badly!

At the same time, Le Yu was worried sick about it.

He wanted her too much.

After seven straight years of self-imposed abstinence, just glimpsing Zhengwei’s memories hadn’t really stirred anything. But now that he himself had gone two months without sex, he felt like he might become a saint at any second.

Frankly, even Mi Die sometimes seemed just his type—a mature woman with curves and presence.

And after playing cards with Qin Leyin for so long, he was starting to think that eldest son would look wild in drag.

Sometimes, when Mu Qingmei stared at him around the newspaper office, he’d flash back to scenes from movies and want her to come in so he could ruthlessly punish her... but when he recalled her war record, any of those urges disappeared fast.

Le Yu was starting to feel like he was just as much of a perv as Jing Zhengwei—how the hell had Zhengwei held out seven years, especially when his body was healthy and functional?

"We all produce the same hormones, so how come you could unlock your gene lock and just clamp down, even keeping up with extra ’Qin Daily’ practice every night?"

Even logging into the Qian Yuliu account hadn’t been this bleak. At least Qian Yuliu owned a risqué artbook. The cold-blooded types weren’t asexual—they’d just done it once or a dozen times, then tossed it aside as a boring animal instinct.

Long story short, as time went on, Le Yu had basically become a walking bomb ready to go off at any moment.

Even right now with Qing Lan in his arms, he was no exception—thankfully, his custom boxers were up to the job.

Still, Le Yu’s reason and body were on different wavelengths. Though his bottom half wanted to get closer, his top half just wanted to hug her. He was crystal clear—what he really wanted was just to hold her and drift quietly into sleep.

"So do I like her?"

"What does it even mean to genuinely like someone?"

"Do I crave her body... or is it that I want her, as a person?"

Le Yu fell into deep philosophical analysis, before giving it all up as pointless.

"The ’challenge mission’ was nearly done. Once I claimed the points and awakened the Ice Blood Physique, the pain issues of the Qin Daily body wouldn’t matter, and I could ditch abstinence for good. Then I’d just let soul and body decide what to do next!"

But if possible...

He still wished Qing Lan could become a woman respected for her skills, cool and unruffled in public, brave in love, fierce against gossips—dignified, self-assured, beautiful.

"If she really became like that, she probably wouldn’t like me anyway..." Le Yu thought ruefully, falling asleep without realizing it.

...

...

A thousand miles from Xuanzhu County, the city-fortress at Nanyang Pass.

This checkpoint-fortress nestled between two mountains, strangling access between Dongyang and Chenfeng—almost every caravan or traveler from either side came through Nanyang Pass.

That night, the rain was pounding and relentless, not stopping even after dawn. On the parapet, sentries dozed in their seats, until their captain came stomping up and, furious, whacked them all awake, "Keep your eyes open! The moment something happens, you lot are the first to die!"

"What could possibly happen..." These sentries were veterans and didn’t bother being polite, "Across from us is just Chenfeng District. Are they really gonna attack us?"

"You got a smart mouth—"

In the middle of their daily squabble, one soldier squinted into the rainy distance. _{f\ree webn ovel(.)com}

"Captain, isn’t something headed this way?"

The captain turned his head—and saw a black line snaking toward Nanyang Pass from the dim, rain-washed plains.

The line was moving so fast that, as they watched, it was already nearly at their doorstep. The captain realized what it was—

Ranks of Firearms soldiers, running atop Swift Blade Boots!

On those razor boots, they soared through the rain across the wildlands, furrowing deep knife tracks into the earth, a torrential flood of warriors unstoppable in their path!

"We’re under attack!" the captain bellowed, racing to ring the alarm bell—but before he could, a lead soldier, only a few dozen meters from the gate, stomped hard, vaulted high into the air, drew twin swords from his waist, and soared straight for the wall.

The captain’s eyebrows flew up.

At this distance there was no way he could jump up there, unless—

The twin-sword soldier suddenly pressed into thin air; the dim gray rain seemed to congeal, lifting his body and letting him leap again!

Only Martial Artists at the Peak of Perfection could use "Stepping on Light" like that!

As the captain stared in shock, the swordsman slammed down onto the parapet—his blades a hurricane, and all the sentries around him torn to shreds in an eyeblink!

"Who the hell are you!?" the captain howled, scrambling backward and chambering his Firearm as he screamed, "Why attack Nanyang Pass?"

"I am..."

The twin-swordsman shot forward on his Swift Blade Boots. The captain fired three shots—missed each time, the attacker dodging them with easy arrogance.

The enemy was nearly upon him. The captain retreated desperately, but in a flash, the other became a streak of light—appearing suddenly at his back.

In that instant, the captain’s Firearm, his body, his arms, legs, head—all sliced to pieces. Not a flicker of pain twisted his face, only terror and bewilderment.

"...Chenfeng Blueflame."

Blueflame leapt from the wall, slaughtering every soldier guarding the main gate, slashing through the lock and breaking the barrier—outside, thousands of Swift Blade troopers were waiting at the ready.

He pointed his sword north, pulled out a pair of glasses, and put them on. Glaring at the cowering Dongyang soldiers gathered before him, he smiled and said,

"The wind’s here."