Chapter 72: Just Want to Ask—Is It Expensive?

“What a master of deception, what a villain crying foul before the innocent can speak. Do you, a disgrace to the military, expect an explanation from me?” Qin Chuan let out a cold laugh. “You’re not worthy.”

With that, Qin Chuan turned as if to leave. Since Lin Wanyu seemed to prefer listening to such fabricated tales, she was welcome to continue; as for him, he had no patience for it.

“Qin Chuan, stop right there!”

Lin Wanyu’s voice rang out, cold as ice. “You’d better explain yourself, or I won’t allow you to insult Senior Fu like this.”

Qin Chuan sighed softly, turning to glance at Lin Wanyu. That single look sent a chill deep into her bones, making her shudder uncontrollably.

In all the time she’d known Qin Chuan, Lin Wanyu had never seen him look like this—how to describe it? It was desolate, shadowed, and utterly devoid of hope, with an indifference that showed no regard for any living thing.

It was like a black hole, swallowing all emotion, suffocating and despairing.

Lin Wanyu was stunned—and then, inexplicably, a pang of sorrow welled up in her chest. She could scarcely imagine what Qin Chuan must have experienced to possess such a gaze, so complex it defied description.

From his angle, Fu Tingxiu did not notice Qin Chuan’s eyes. Instead, he quickly stood up, squared his shoulders, and looked down at Qin Chuan with a lofty air.

“Mr. Qin, you’d best apologize to me now. If you do, I can overlook this matter for Wanyu’s sake.”

In Fu Tingxiu’s mind, a weakling like Qin Chuan was unworthy of being Lin Wanyu’s fiancé. It seemed, however, that the Lin family intended to match them, which he could not accept—after all, only he was Lin Wanyu’s destined one.

Still, Fu Tingxiu knew he could not act too rashly, lest he drive Lin Wanyu away. That was why, throughout tonight’s confrontation, he’d exercised restraint.

But that did not mean he could tolerate Qin Chuan’s insults—especially after the recent embarrassment over the painting, which had left him humiliated. Now, Fu Tingxiu was determined to regain the upper hand.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to consider. My patience has its limits. Once time’s up—”

“No need for ten seconds—I can answer you right now.”

Qin Chuan cut him off, and in that instant, the complex look in his eyes vanished, replaced by a mocking amusement.

“So you’re in such a hurry to be exposed, Fu? Fine, I won’t bother sparing your pride. Forgive my bluntness, but the heroic battlefield you described is straight out of some cheap online novel. Anyone with half a brain could see through it.”

“What did you say? If you have the nerve, say it again.” Fu Tingxiu’s anger soared, but beneath it, a trace of panic flickered—though he masked it well.

Qin Chuan clapped Fu Tingxiu on the shoulder, sneering. “I’d say it a hundred times—my opinion doesn’t change. You read a few web novels and now you’re playing at being a war god? Where do you find the nerve to preach to me about military honor?

From the moment you claimed you’d braved death and charged the enemy for your captain’s revenge, I knew you’d never seen a real battlefield. You don’t even understand what one is.

Don’t try to cover your guilt with awkward laughter. Self-deception only makes you look foolish, you know?

A real battlefield is nothing but dirt and yellow dust, the air thick with smoke and the stench of blood. There’s no water, no food—if you see a rat, you think it’s a delicacy.

There isn’t a single whole corpse around you; only severed limbs, heads, and entrails. Your ears are half-deaf from the shelling—gunfire barely registers, like someone passing gas.

No matter where you hide, stick your head out for a second and a grenade could shatter your skull from any direction. Even if you lie motionless in a trench, the next moment a mortar shell might explode beside you. If you’re lucky, you lose an arm or a leg; if not, you don’t even know how you died.

When you see anything living, even a harmless rabbit, your first instinct is to shoot. There’s no time to figure out what it is—your survival reflex compels you to kill anything standing.

When you witness your closest comrade blown to pieces before your eyes, you don’t have time for grief or pain. In that moment, the only thought inside is, ‘Thank god it wasn’t me.’

If you can’t guarantee your own life, you’re in no position to talk about revenge. Survival comes first—only then can you think of anything else. Because once you’re dead, nothing matters anymore.

As for your story of recklessly charging into the enemy for your captain, regardless of terrain or numbers, just for revenge—I’d say calling it foolish is an insult to the word.

Next time you invent a story, at least try to make it plausible. Otherwise, you’ll only fool a naïve girl who’s never seen the world.”

Lin Wanyu was already too stunned to speak, and even Fu Tingxiu, who had been so adamant about demanding an apology moments before, stood frozen, a chill crawling down his back as cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

Was this a battlefield, or a true hell on earth?

Qin Chuan walked slowly toward the door. As he reached it, he seemed to recall something, turning back with a casual reminder. “By the way—the biggest drug lord on the southeastern border two years ago was Mongchai. The Shakun Cartel was wiped out three years ago. If you’re going to make up stories, at least keep the timeline straight. Otherwise, even a clueless girl might spot the holes if she bothers to check.”

With a bang, Qin Chuan closed the living room door behind him.

The night air drifted in, but Qin Chuan’s heart was still restless. He blamed that dog, Fu Tingxiu; just as the memories of his own infernal ordeal had begun to fade, they’d been dragged back to the surface.

What was worse, some foolish girl had actually been captivated by such nonsense at first? Infuriating. The more he thought of it, the angrier he became.

Outside the villa, Ah Wei was leaning against the car, smoking.

“Ah Wei, when you’re feeling agitated, how do you usually calm yourself?”

Qin Chuan had asked offhandedly, but Ah Wei pondered in earnest and quickly answered with his own method.

“Mr. Qin, when I’m troubled, I go to Paradise on Earth. The girls there will do everything in their power, using all their skills, to soothe my soul.” Ah Wei spoke with such enthusiasm that his rugged face lit up with longing.

Qin Chuan snorted. “Frequenting brothels is beneath one’s dignity. Besides, do I look like someone so shameless?”

“Sorry, Mr. Qin. I’m just a common man, so that’s the only answer I have. Please don’t take offense.”

“We’re both mortals in this world, you and I.”

“Mr. Qin… what do you mean by that?”

“I mean I’m just a common man too.”

“???”

“You’re hopeless. Must I spell everything out? I just wanted to ask—how expensive is it at Paradise on Earth?”

“……”