Chapter 37

Huo Jilin paused mid-bite, his chopsticks hovering, then set them down on the bowl and asked quietly, "Where are you going?"

"To stay in the county town. That's been my plan all along—my medical skills are wasted in this village."

Chen Jue said flatly.

It was the truth. He'd planned this from day one. Now that he was almost eight months along, with just over a month to go, he wanted to get settled in Dongling County early.

Huo Jilin was quiet for a beat, then said:

"You can't leave."

Chen Jue shot him a look. He was just letting Huo Jilin know, not asking for permission. This wasn't like their past life, where they had a client-contractor deal.

Back then, whether the client wanted to fly to heaven or dig to hell, he had no say. Now he was the one calling the shots.

Huo Jilin was no longer his client.

He didn't need to keep that shareholder relationship going anymore.

Honestly, he didn't get why Huo Jilin would say "you can't leave."

Why did he still want to live with him?

Was he waiting to see the baby? Did he think it was funny that a dude was knocked up?

They never got in-vitro embryos to work, but he got to see a man give birth—guess he got his money's worth, huh?

Chen Jue shook his head. His grudge against Huo Jilin still ran deep. Even though Huo Jilin had explained that he didn't drive Jiang Xinhe to her death, Chen Jue still remembered the past all too well.

That was five years of bad blood—it wasn't going to change overnight. Chen Jue needed time.

"I've already made up my mind."

Huo Jilin looked at him and said flatly, "You might not know the laws of this dynasty. Now that you're married to me, your household registration is under the Huo family. You don't have your own household registration, so you can't just move to the county by yourself."

Chen Jue looked at him. "If you hadn't brought it up, I'd have almost forgotten. Let's get the divorce done."

Huo Jilin wasn't wrong. Originally, Huo Lin was dead, and Chen Jue hadn't applied for his own household. If Huo Lin, the only head of the Huo family, had died of natural causes, Chen Jue could've inherited his household as his widow.

By law, he'd inherit the house, along with the household registration.

Even if he gave birth to a boy like himself, he wouldn't be kicked out.

This was a law meant to keep families from dying out.

He'd read up on some of the Great Liang dynasty's laws in his spare time.

That was also why he'd never applied for his own household.

He hadn't expected Huo Jilin to come back, either.

But Chen Jue figured, heaven never closes every door.

With the war causing population loss, the county had lost a bunch of people and was waiting for new folks to fill in. He could settle in the county with the kid first, and maybe one day buy a house there and get his household registration set up.

Divorce?

Huo Jilin stared at his completely blank face, feeling a tightness in his chest for reasons he couldn't explain.

Before—in his past life—he'd never once considered Chen Jue as a potential partner.

Not only was he picky about feelings and never thought anyone could get into his heart,

but Chen Jue alone—his face rarely showing anything, whether in meetings or with patients—clearly marked him as cold and distant.

Besides, the two of them had been on opposite sides, with nothing to say to each other.

For all these reasons, he'd never even considered Chen Jue as a partner.

But now, when Chen Jue casually mentioned getting a divorce, he didn't know why his heart felt so unsettled. That familiar suffocating feeling was back, pressing on his chest.

Huo Jilin didn't know why yet. After a moment of silence, he said, "Let's talk about this later."

Chen Jue looked at him. "Aren't you the one who hates leaving problems overnight?"

Huo Jilin took a slow breath. Why exactly was he so against the divorce? Did he want to keep Chen Jue around to keep butting heads?

Hadn't he already had enough of Chen Jue going at him in the past?

Huo Jilin picked up the dishes and walked out. He couldn't keep talking to Chen Jue. For now, since Chen Jue was pregnant, he'd back off.

That night, before going to bed, Chen Jue said to Huo Jilin, "I'll give you two days to think about it. By Mid-Autumn Festival, I'm going back to my family's place, and I won't be coming back. You can stay here and tell the villagers I've gone home to have the baby. Or you can find someplace where nobody knows you and start over."

Huo Jilin opened his eyes in the dark. Those were words he used to say all the time.

"I'll give you two more days. In two days, I want to see results. I don't want excuses. I want outcomes. Meeting adjourned."

His old authoritarian, domineering ways—Chen Jue was now throwing it all back in his face.

The taste of karma wasn't sweet.

Huo Jilin took a deep breath, waited a moment, but couldn't help turning over and lifting the small kang table that separated them, setting it aside on the other side.

He had wanted to move that table away for a long time.

He didn't like things that were hidden from view.

Now he could see Chen Jue clearly.

Because Chen Jue had also turned to look at him at his movement. The moon outside was already very bright—perhaps because there was no pollution, the moonlight could indeed illuminate the room, casting a hazy glow through the window lattice onto Chen Jue's face.

Chen Jue's features were exceptionally striking—not the soft, gentle type of ordinary people, but with deep brows, thick lashes, a high straight nose, and clearly defined lips. His was a beauty so intense it was almost aggressive.

It was as if Nüwa had carefully sculpted him bit by bit, shaping him to a degree that demanded everyone see him at first glance and be drawn to him.

His looks stood out especially in a crowd.

That was also why every time he rebutted him in meetings or at important occasions—because Chen Jue attracted people's attention, and someone like that was more likely to get others to agree with his opinions.

It was a celebrity effect, or a facial features effect. The post-00s generation had a saying: "Values follow facial features." Not that Chen Jue had skewed values—he was just expressing his own medical views, nothing to do with character. He was just giving an example.

Throughout history, anyone with charisma was always distinctive—either with a face so ugly it was unforgettable, or with looks this striking.

That was also why he had rejected Chen Jue's proposals so many times.

Because Chen Jue had also very successfully captured his attention.

Even though Huo Jilin knew it was his own problem and that Chen Jue was just an exception he couldn't get used to, he couldn't blame Chen Jue for it.

But he still inevitably changed how he handled things because of Chen Jue.

He should have kept it about the issue, not the person, but he made Chen Jue the target.

He shot down anything that didn't match his view, using Chen Jue as a warning to the rest.

The thing was, Chen Jue never complained after getting shot down. He didn't turn red or raise his voice like other people did. He was like a silent ice sculpture.

Chen Jue talked to him in short bursts, never going on and on, like even one extra word was a waste.

He was strikingly similar to Huo Jilin himself.

He rarely saw Chen Jue smile either. The guy was carved from ice, with a face etched in frost, like one smile would melt him.

Who could go easy on a face with no expression like that?

There's a saying: you don't hit a smiling face. So the opposite must be true too.

He'd hardly ever seen Chen Jue smile.

Right now, Chen Jue wasn't smiling either. Moonlight fell on his face, and even in the haze, his features were sharp and clear—cold, aloof, just like always.

Like a cold, sharp scalpel.

Even if the blade was stunning, its gleam impossible to look away from.

But nobody could reach out and grab it, because Chen Jue's face had "Keep Away" written all over it.

On the Zhonghai Hospital forum, Chen Jue had his own board.

They called him the ice scalpel of the cardiothoracic department.

He could save your heart, but don't get too close, or he'd chill it too.

That was supposedly from a female patient who'd confessed to Chen Jue and got rejected. It was as melancholy as a poem, and it had stayed pinned up there ever since.

Huo Jilin didn't know why he remembered those words so clearly—maybe because they'd given him goosebumps when he first read them.

Huo Jilin's mind had wandered off. When he snapped back, Chen Jue was watching him cautiously, like he was waiting for an explanation about the small table being moved—was Huo Jilin about to say something?

Right—back in the day, when he tapped his fingers on the conference table, it meant he was about to say something people didn't want to hear.

Words Chen Jue didn't want to hear.

Huo Jilin took a deep breath. This time, he wasn't trying to get at Chen Jue. He wanted to take responsibility: "If you want to move to the county, I'll go with you."

Before Chen Jue could say anything, he added: "I know you don't want me around, but until the baby comes, you need someone to look after you. You don't know anyone in this world, and it's chaos out there—war could break out again any day. Giving birth alone is too dangerous."

He hadn't thought about the county before, but now it was worth considering.

The county wasn't exactly thriving—nowhere near the places they'd known as modern people—but the medical care there had to be better than in the village.

Huo Jilin looked at Chen Jue's belly and couldn't help thinking back to that surgery. It was just as brutal as cutting someone open on a battlefield.

Cutting someone open alive was sometimes crueler than killing them.

Because killing was over with one stroke.

But being cut open alive meant you had to wake up and keep living.

He couldn't stand to imagine Chen Jue going through something like that.

And there might not even be anyone who could do it for Chen Jue.

Chen Jue was a doctor—he could deliver Zhang Yan's baby. But when it was Chen Jue's turn, if something went wrong, who would deliver his kid?

Would he just be left to die like that?

Huo Jilin's hand clenched on its own, his heart suddenly squeezing. He couldn't handle that image. He'd already watched Chen Jue die once; he couldn't stand to see it happen again.

He had things he was afraid of too.

So wherever Chen Jue wanted to go, Huo Jilin would follow.

Hearing that, Chen Jue couldn't help asking: "The war's still going to go on? Didn't you win?"

Hadn't he earned major military honors and been made a Guerrilla General?

He wouldn't have gotten that kind of reward without winning.

And if he hadn't won, how could he have come back?

Huo Jilin glanced at him, feeling the wound on his back start to throb. He couldn't help touching the jagged scar on his waist, thinking, Chen Jue really thought too highly of him.

If he won one battle, did that mean the whole war was won?

Not to mention that a war depended on the policies of two nations—and even just on the battlefield, who knew if the next fight would be a win?

He might win today, but the enemy could hit back the next day.

Winning and losing were just part of war.

Still, he knew Chen Jue wasn't a soldier, so it made sense he didn't get it.

The fact that Chen Jue could so keenly pick up on the instability the war brought was already impressive.

It seemed he still had his modern way of thinking, instinctively keeping an eye on current events.

He wasn't exaggerating the situation on the battlefield, because even he couldn't be sure what would happen next.

This was an age of imperial power—war was decided by a single word from the emperor.

Besides, this war was tied to the fight for the throne. If the Crown Prince's faction could use this win to turn things around, they might buy themselves some stability.

But if the emperor didn't like the Crown Prince and stayed suspicious of him, then the Third Prince might take the throne—and the Third Prince was the one who'd teamed up with foreign invaders.

If he took the throne, the fighting up north would drag on forever. Letting wolves in the door was a bad idea—everyone knew it was easier to invite them in than to kick them out.

His thoughts had wandered too far.

Huo Jilin didn't want to get caught up in factional battles, but he didn't have a choice—he was a Huo, and the Huo family had been exiled here because of their connection to the Crown Prince's faction.

In other words, if the Crown Prince's side won, he had a shot at climbing back up. If they fell for good, he'd just have to stay tucked away in this corner, staying out of the line of fire.

That was also why he hadn't rushed to take up his post. He was waiting to see how the power struggle at court would play out.

The backstory of this body he was in was just as soap-opera crazy, every bit as messy as the Huo family drama back then. Huo Jilin coldly curled the corner of his mouth, choosing not to dwell on it. Right now, the priority was keeping Chen Jue here.

In such turbulent times, a guy with no household registration like Chen Jue wouldn't be able to live well anywhere.

He also didn't want Chen Jue to leave again.

Since Chen Jue wanted to understand the war situation, he happened to have lived through it, so he could walk him through the war in detail.

He adjusted the pillow to get his back more comfortable, then said to Chen Jue, "The court is in the middle of negotiations, but no matter how they turn out, the war between the two nations will continue. The conflict between the Central Plains and the northwestern nomads has never gone away—unless they're wiped out completely, we'll be at war every single year.

We're only about a hundred li from the Subei front lines, but this mountain blocks it off, so it feels relatively safe here."

Historically, especially in the Han Dynasty, the Han and the Xiongnu were at war every year.

After Wei Qing and Huo Qubing conquered the Hexi Corridor, things were relatively peaceful for a while.

By the Song Dynasty, the wars between the Jin and the Mongols dragged on endlessly, eventually losing half the country.

And this Daliang Dynasty was no different—the Subei border was at war with Northern Yuan every year. It's just that this year, the Third Prince colluded with Northern Yuan and let them invade.

From now on, no matter who becomes emperor, unless we win a decisive victory, the war won't end—the only difference is how big the war gets.

Chen Jue went quiet.

It wasn't because he couldn't go to the county—since wars happened every year, regular people still had to live their lives.

He was quiet because, as a modern person, he'd long lost any real sense of what war meant.

Hearing about war still made him instinctively recoil.

"Right now, during the negotiations, to keep spies and chaos out, all cities—especially Xuzhou Prefecture, the closest to the capital—are on high alert, and they're cracking down hard on household registrations," Huo Jilin said softly. He was the one who'd issued this order. Because word that the Crown Prince of Northern Yuan had been captured couldn't get out, the whole region was locked down.

He wasn't trying to scare Chen Jue into staying—this was the truth.

Everything he'd ever done or said to Chen Jue had been real.

Except for not telling him who he was earlier.

Even then, he hadn't lied to him; he just wanted to see when Chen Jue would figure it out.

Huo Jilin wasn't explaining all this to make Chen Jue worry—they were comrades now, right?

They came from the same world, so even if they couldn't fight side by side, at least they could live under the same roof, right?

Huo Jilin couldn't read anything on Chen Jue's face—still expressionless, eyes flat and distant, lost in thought.

Huo Jilin slowly brought it up with him, "You can wait until the court negotiations wrap up before you decide. For now, let's just keep things the way they are. The day after tomorrow, I'll go back to your family's place with you."

Chen Jue didn't say anything else.

Not because Huo Jilin had talked him into it, but because he suddenly felt like it was all pretty pointless. If this world was built for him, then no matter what he did, it wouldn't matter.

Just like the kid he was about to have would carry the Huo surname;

The original Huo Lin was dead, replaced by the one person from his past life he least wanted to face.

This wasn't so much a punishment designed for him as it was a long, unbreakable nightmare he'd made for himself.

When would he break free of the demon in his heart?

When this kid was born?

Or at the end of his life—another end to his life.

Chen Jue shut his eyes.

He shut them so suddenly, right in front of him, and Huo Jilin held his breath in that moment, hearing his own heavy, slow heartbeat.

It was only when he saw Chen Jue's eyelashes flutter that he realized Chen Jue had just closed his eyes to sleep.

He slowly unclenched his fist and shut his eyes too.