Volume One, Chapter 12: The Forceful Wall Slam—This Is Way Too Ambiguous!

Su Jinxia took a step back. “What do you mean by that?”

Zhao Yue stepped forward. “Who hurt that man—you or someone else?”

As Su Jinxia retreated, her back pressed against the wall, and before she knew it, he cornered her with a commanding stance, so close it felt almost intimate.

“What are you trying to do?”

“I want to know the truth.” Zhao Yue observed the young girl before him; she seemed to have many facets, each different from the last.

Su Jinxia poked his chest lightly. “You’re standing way too close!”

Zhao Yue finally took a step back. “I just want to understand what really happened today.”

Su Jinxia thought there was no harm in telling him. She spoke openly, “I’m the one who hurt him. The wound on his head was from Lin Yuanyuan hitting him with a brick. If you have any more questions, just ask!”

Zhao Yue looked at the frail girl standing before him—she seemed no heavier than eighty pounds, maybe just under ninety. Her arms were incredibly slender.

“How did you manage that?”

Glancing around, Su Jinxia noticed a small grove to the left of the hospital. “Come with me over there, and you’ll see.”

Zhao Yue followed her into the grove, watching her slender figure with a hint of disbelief.

Once inside, the girl suddenly spun around and began throwing punches at him—swift, precise, and fierce.

Zhao Yue quickly responded, and soon they were sparring lightly, neither willing to seriously hurt the other.

They exchanged blows for several minutes without a clear winner.

Feeling her strength waning, Su Jinxia waved him off, signaling the end of their bout.

The ground was marked with traces of their fight—signs of how intense it had been.

Both were breathing heavily, then without a word, they sat down on the ground in mutual understanding.

Su Jinxia realized her current body was weak; if she were in her original form, she would have easily pinned Zhao Yue to the ground.

The image lingered in her mind, refusing to fade away.

Zhao Yue glanced at the bruises on his wrist—she had kicked him hard enough to leave a red, swollen mark. “Who taught you this?”

Her fighting style was unorthodox but incredibly fast and accurate, with perfect control over her strength.

The girl before him possessed strength far beyond what her age and weight should allow.

It was strange—truly strange.

Exhausted and thirsty, Su Jinxia noticed the sky had grown dark. Her hunger gnawed at her, and her energy was nearly spent.

“Why so many questions? Who do you think you are to me? You’ve wasted so much time, and now I’m starving.”

“I’ll buy you dinner.” Zhao Yue stood and reached out to help her up. Her hand was pale, soft, and delicate.

Reluctantly, he let go.

They left the grove and walked a long way along the road until they finally arrived at a state-run restaurant.

Through the glass window, they noticed how disheveled they both looked, dirt smudged across their clothes.

Su Jinxia tidied her hair. “You promised to treat me!”

“No problem. Order whatever you want.”

She looked at him. “Are you sure? I can really eat a lot.”

Zhao Yue smiled. “You don’t invite someone out and then let them go hungry.”

They found a corner table inside the restaurant. Soon, a waiter brought over the menus.

Zhao Yue handed the menu to Su Jinxia. “Order anything you want.”

Knowing he had a good salary, she didn’t hold back. After all, they should have been eating at home tonight; this was a rare treat for the two of them.

“Spicy tofu, Kung Pao chicken, a braised fish, and a vegetable soup! For the main course, start with two bowls of rice,” she said, turning to him. “Anything you want to add? That’s what I want to eat.”

Zhao Yue nodded. “Add some braised pork and burnt eggplant. Also, two bowls of rice.”

The waiter hesitated. “Are you sure? Our portions are quite large.”

Su Jinxia smiled. “If we can’t finish, we’ll take the leftovers with us.”

The waitress took the menu to the counter to place the order, then returned.

“That’ll be two yuan and thirty cents, plus a pound of ration tickets.”

Su Jinxia thought about the money and ration tickets they’d received today—probably a few dozen yuan and thirty or forty pounds of tickets. At this rate, they wouldn’t last long before running out.

Then she remembered the gold in her space could be exchanged for money. She planned to visit the black market soon.

She refused to live a life of hardship; she wanted to live freely and unburdened.

There’s a saying: It’s terrifying to be alive without money and just as terrifying to die with money left unspent.

Having lived two lives, she saw things more clearly than before. This time, she intended to live lavishly—eating, drinking, and enjoying life!

Zhao Yue looked down at his bloodstained and dirtied uniform, feeling equally disheveled.

Suddenly, Su Jinxia’s stomach growled loudly.

Hearing it, Zhao Yue quickly went to the counter, and soon the waiter brought rice and burnt eggplant.

Su Jinxia noticed her hands were dirty, so she washed them at the sink before returning to the table. She picked up her chopsticks and saw he hadn’t started eating yet.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“You’re hungry, right? You eat first.”

“Then I won’t hold back!” Su Jinxia took a big bite of rice, then some eggplant, nodding with satisfaction.

This was what a proper meal tasted like. She recalled how many times she had cooked for him in her previous life, and now that he was treating her, it felt only right.

After all, he didn’t know about her past life—she could eat heartily without worries.

Zhao Yue watched the girl eat with a fond smile.

When all the dishes arrived, he noticed she had finished a bowl of rice and was nearly done with the second.

Such an appetite—she could really put away the rice.

The waiter approached. “Would you like more rice? The kitchen will be closing soon if you don’t order now.”

“Add two more bowls,” Zhao Yue said, then picked up his chopsticks.

They ate quietly, only looking up briefly when the waiter brought more food before returning to their meal.

The restaurant grew emptier as the evening wore on. The waiter, with little to do, stood behind the counter watching them.

The female waitress whispered to a colleague, “That girl’s already on her fourth bowl—what an appetite! She looks so slight, maybe seventy or eighty pounds. Where does she put all that food?”

“And the man across from her—his uniform is stained with blood and dirt. Plus, he looks fierce; I wouldn’t dare say a word to him.”

“Do you think he’s done something bad?”