I collected myself and told him everything I knew. "First he caught cholera out of nowhere, barely recovered, then took six shots to the back, and within two days was nearly hacked to death with blades..."
"How is he now?"
Oliver frowned, unable to fathom how a man shot and slashed could have gone back to retrieve a city defense map.
I couldn't explain much, so I hedged: "With my care, he recovered quickly."
"But as soon as he was better, he left immediately—probably to figure out who's been trying to kill him."
Clearly, this brother-in-law Oliver was on his suspect list.
Oliver's expression eased slightly. He said:
"That man has always been a lone wolf. Won't even take bodyguards, won't listen to advice. Good thing he's tough. If he'd come back today for you, I'd be able to clear things up with him. I already have evidence."
Would he come back for me?
He didn't even know I was in this world. Perhaps when Oliver mentioned "Victor Vane's woman," he might assume it was someone else.
I worried: "You're giving too little information. What if Victor doesn't know it's me? What if he thinks it's someone else?"
"If Victor came back to the mansion for a city defense map, he'd know exactly which woman of his you are."
Oliver gave a light laugh, gaze settling on the watch on my wrist. "That watch was Grace's coming-of-age gift to Victor. He treasures it, never parts with it. I don't know what you did to make him give it away like that."
I held the heavy watch, suddenly feeling it burn.
In truth, I'd done nothing—just happened to live in the apartment that was his resurrection point.
His curiosity piqued: "As far as I know, before going north, Victor didn't have a...lady friend. Who exactly are you?"
My story was a long one.
I sighed involuntarily, thinking of the dropped yarn and the PCR test I was supposed to take tomorrow morning.
From downstairs, someone called out: "The Young Marshal has returned!"
8.
In an instant, Oliver dropped his easy manner and donned his sinister skin again.
He gripped my forearm and pulled me to the second-floor railing.
A man in a dark gray suit stood in the first-floor reception hall, smoking, a gift box tucked under his arm.
He looked up, saw us, his gaze paused for a moment, a slight furrow between his brows. Then he turned his head, exhaled smoke, and crushed out his cigarette.
"Victor!" I cried with delight—he had actually come back for me.
I tried to pull away from Oliver, but his grip was iron. I could only look pitifully at Victor.
Oliver smiled in Victor's direction: "Victor, your woman came to me of her own accord. What a coincidence."
Victor lowered his eyelids with a faint smile. "My woman? I don't know her."
Without hesitation, Oliver racked his pistol and pressed it to my temple.
"If you don't know her, there's no reason to keep her around."
Cold sweat drenched me. I was going to die.
From the third floor, Grace hurried downstairs.
Seeing the standoff, she panicked and grabbed her husband's arm. "Don't hurt Miss Ouyang."
Victor ascended the curved staircase step by step. "Today is your wife's birthday. No need to make a bloody mess."
He was speaking to Oliver, but his eyes were on me.
With a gun to my head, I was terrified out of my wits, yet he took his time, a hint of amusement at the corners of his eyes, apparently in a decent mood.
When he was only four or five steps away, he tossed the gift box up. Oliver caught it.
Almost simultaneously, Victor's own gun was leveled at Oliver.
My arm was suddenly released, and I stumbled, falling straight into Victor's arms.
A clean tobacco scent enveloped me.
Thank heavens—though he'd coldly denied knowing me, he'd still saved me!
Trembling, too scared to speak, I buried myself in his embrace, never wanting to move.
The only person I knew in this era—I clung to him instinctively.
His gun remained trained on Oliver, his gaze naturally on his opponent.
But his other hand found mine, gripping the fingers that clutched his jacket, pulling me behind him.
"We're family—no need for bloodshed." Grace anxiously positioned herself in front of Oliver while also holding his arm to prevent him from firing.
She understood the men in her family—they'd rather kill by mistake than let slip.
Finally, Oliver couldn't bear to see his wife trembling like a frightened rabbit. He lowered his gun.
After inspecting the contents of the gift box, he had a subordinate lock it in the safe.
"It's been so long since you came home, Victor." Grace held his arms, eyes red as she examined him from head to toe, confirming he was healthy and intact before inviting everyone to sit.
The two men, even with guns lowered, maintained their hostile tension.
The only happy person was Grace—it was, after all, her birthday, and Oliver had promised this morning to bring her brother back for the occasion.
That was the gift she wanted most.
The second happiest person was me. Since Victor had come home, my fears had gradually faded, and my conversation became lighter.
A servant helped me to the table. I struggled to move next to Victor, blinking at him.
His gaze fell on me—he must have been puzzling over how I'd gotten here.
Grace noticed my behavior, her smile growing as she urged us to eat more.
Under Grace's curious questioning, I fabricated a story about meeting Victor a few days ago, saving him when he was in trouble, and him hiding at my place during the day while returning at night.
At this point, Oliver remembered his earlier question: "Where exactly is Miss Ouyang's home?"
This was the hardest question to answer.
Under the table, my foot brushed against Victor's calf through his trousers, hoping he'd cooperate.
I had my reasons—if I explained that I came from a century in the future, it would take too much explanation, and there was a chance I'd be labeled crazy.
Also, I figured he wouldn't want his sister to know he'd died three times.
His brother-in-law's relentless questioning was probably because he couldn't figure out how they'd turned Sungate upside down and still couldn't find Victor.
Victor knew his own world better. All he needed was a vague location.
Receiving my signal, Victor's lips curved into a half-smile. "Is the Adjutant interrogating a criminal?"
Seeing the resurgent hostility, I had a headache. This man didn't follow the script.
So I deflected with "My home is far and hard to find, never mind that..." while quickly changing the subject to being kidnapped by thugs, omitting Oliver knocking me out and framing it as the Adjutant ultimately rescuing me.
I glanced at Oliver—his expression was flat, seemingly ungrateful for my help in "reducing his sentence."
I rolled my eyes inwardly, then met Victor's enigmatic gaze.
"The Adjutant never does anything unnecessary. What did you say that made him willing to save you?"
9.
I had boasted about being Victor's woman purely for self-preservation.
Now, saying it to his face, I was a bit embarrassed.
I leaned close to his ear and whispered: "I said I was Victor Vane's woman."
His lashes lowered—this explanation didn't seem to surprise him.
Worried he might feel pressured, I added quietly: "It was an emergency. I said it to save my life."
Servants quietly served the food. Individual silver fish soup. I lifted the lid, stirred it, and took a steaming bite.
Grace asked again: "Does Miss Ouyang have any family at home?"
She glanced at Victor and quickly added: "Sister just wants to properly thank them. You two may have met recently, but I can see you care for each other. If you like each other, some things should be settled sooner..."
I was starting to see that Grace was an eldest sister who mothered everything.
Victor paused—he clearly hadn't expected this agenda either.
I jumped in: "Sister Grace, I do like Victor, but we're not at that stage yet..."
I was the one who had loudly proclaimed myself his woman.
But in reality, there was nothing between us.
I couldn't exactly say he kissed me, I saw him naked, and now we should discuss marriage—could I?