Reborn as the Villain's Wife, I Shine in 80s-Chapter 562 - 546 I don’t love you anymore

"Military secret, huh." Tian Sangsang smiled, her smile uninhibited and straightforward: "I won’t ask about the process, I only want to know the result. As long as you say yes, I’ll wait for you. The kids and I will wait for you."

"All I need is for you to say yes." She emphasized again, staring at him intently: "Say it?"

"Hua Jun told me you and she are together. I can pretend not to care, because that’s your mission. I can forgive you for breaking your promise, I try to understand you, I see things from your perspective, I ache for you. My husband, who has to sacrifice his dignity and touch a woman he doesn’t care for—my heart feels your pain. Even if no one else understands you, that’s okay. I’ll be the one to understand, because I’m your wife."

"In the future, I’ll tell my kids that their father was great, not that he was a scumbag. I just need you to say one thing. Damn it, Jiang Jinghuai, why don’t you just say something!"

She let out a broken cry, her throat hoarse.

The atmosphere thickened abruptly, with only her anguished screams echoing, hovering and wavering.

Until her voice was entirely spent, gradually dissipating with the wind, leaving no trace behind.

On either side were walls, like a person trapped in a well. Left in this confined space were just the two of them, silently staring at each other.

As if no superfluous noise could be heard, no wind or movement disrupted the stillness; every shift and rustle carried a heavy tension.

Yet anyone with a modicum of skill would sense the underlying unease.

Beneath these high walls, who knew how many unseen spies lay silently buried.

Jiang Jinghuai coldly let go of her hand, and she staggered back a step.

His eyes lowered, betraying no emotion, and when he looked up again, his gaze was deep and icy.

He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, took a drag, and exhaled the smoke slowly.

"Madam Jiang." He narrowed his eyes, looking down at her with a detached and frigid expression, his gaze both profound and cold: "I won’t answer you, nor do I have the right to. From start to finish, you’ve treated me as your husband. I’ve taken two slaps from you for no reason and almost got kicked. I don’t want to argue with you. What happened between Hua Jun and me was mutual. Your pestering is making things difficult for me."

"Goodbye." He cast her a complicated glance, his coat flaring slightly as he turned.

Tian Sangsang took a deep breath and whispered, "I think I know the answer now."

At this moment, she surprisingly didn’t feel any pain; instead, she felt miraculously liberated.

The cage that had imprisoned her for so long had been opened, and she shed the heavy shackles.

"I don’t love you anymore."

"I will no longer love you."

She lifted her steps lightly and walked in the direction opposite to him, retracing her path.

From this moment on, dust will return to dust, soil to soil.

He was still him.

She was still her.

Jiang Jinghuai extinguished the cigarette in his hand, scattering ash to the ground.

He slid one hand into his coat pocket and slowly rubbed his thumb over that small object. It was what she had slipped into his hand as she struck him earlier, though he didn’t know what it was. All he wanted was to touch it a little longer, as if her warmth still lingered on it. This was the longest and most agonizing road he had ever walked in his life.

**

After the full moon celebration, Tian Sangsang directly took Meng Shuyan and Little Tangyuan home, despite Ye Binyi’s numerous pleas to stay.

The recent upheavals had taken a toll on Ye Binyi, leaving her haggard and confused. Her mind was in disarray; she no longer knew who was good or bad. In her eyes and heart, only her grandson mattered. Yes, her grandson—pure and simple.

Today, Zhao Chun officially moved out of Tian Sangsang’s house.

She had finished her postpartum confinement, and he no longer had any reason to stay. For now, he was an unemployed drifter, having quit his job at the film studio to work independently. Lately, he had plenty of free time.

Now, Meng Shuyan had his own room, and Tian Sangsang shared one with Little Tangyuan.

Tang Yuan’er slept in his little crib, layered with soft quilts, comfortable and snug.

Late at night, cries rang out. Tian Sangsang, a light sleeper, woke with a start and turned on the light to check. Little Tangyuan’s face was a bit flushed, his tiny mouth letting out faint, feeble whimpers. His cries were much weaker than before, more like a lackluster struggle.

Tian Sangsang instantly felt something was wrong. She reached out to touch his small forehead—it was burning hot.

She picked him up, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably, unsure of what to do.

"Is he running a fever?" she murmured to herself.

Cradling Little Tangyuan, she began walking outside, intending to head to the hospital. The yard outside was pitch black, with cold winds blowing. Shielding Tang Yuan’er, she couldn’t help but berate herself—what hospital is open at this hour?

Hospitals are closed at night!

Wait, maybe she could grab some antipyretic from her stash? But she didn’t dare give the baby random medicine!

Tian Sangsang was like an ant on a hot pan, pacing in circles. In this life and the last, it was her first time caring for an infant, and she was utterly inexperienced. Suddenly, she heard a noise. Zhao Chun had jumped down from the wall and came rushing over, panting: "Why is Tangyuan crying?"

"He seems to have a fever."

Tian Sangsang didn’t even question why he was climbing walls in the middle of the night. Just seeing him, she felt like she’d found her anchor.

Zhao Chun was frightened out of his wits. He gently pressed his cheek to Tangyuan’s face and exclaimed, "Hot! He’s definitely got a fever."

His voice trembled as he dashed inside the house: "I had prepared antipyretic specifically for Little Tangyuan. Let me find it!"

Tian Sangsang felt a flicker of hope ignite in her heart, anxiously holding Tangyuan and following him. Zhao Chun quickly found the medicine—it was in a bag he had prepared for daily use. He mixed the medicine with hot water, careful not to make too much. It was still too hot to consume, so they both waited impatiently.

Fortunately, it was winter, and the water cooled quickly.

"Let me feed him," Zhao Chun offered.

Tian Sangsang gently held Tang Yuan’er’s little hands to keep him from moving. Tang Yuan’er’s crying turned even redder in his face—he was truly in distress. Zhao Chun carefully fed him the medicine using a small spoon, but some of it dribbled from the corners of Tangyuan’s mouth. Such a small act of medicine-feeding—barely a minute—and tension filled the air. Both adults dared not make a single mistake.

One meticulously fed.

One kept an unrelenting watch.

When the medicine was finally administered, Zhao Chun exhaled a sigh of relief.

Tian Sangsang used a small handkerchief to wipe Tangyuan’s mouth, then handed it to Zhao Chun. "You too, wipe your sweat."

The tiny handkerchief, meant for the baby, looked absurd when Zhao Chun used it to wipe himself. He did so haphazardly, without much care.

"Thankfully, I prepared ahead of time. I asked my mother about it—she’s experienced. She said babies this young are prone to fevers and colds, so it’s crucial to keep medicine at home." He patted his chest, a trace of color returning to his handsome face: "In six hours, we’ll need to give him another dose."

Listening to him, Tian Sangsang’s eyes grew slightly misty. "Thank you."

After a while, Little Tangyuan’s body was less hot. Zhao Chun then pulled out a thermometer from his bag to check his temperature. Both of them were so focused on Tangyuan that they didn’t notice the small head peeking out from a little distance away, only to quickly shrink back.

Meng Shuyan leaned against the doorframe, lips pressed together, saying nothing.