The door wasn't fully closed.

Just as he was about to push it open, his hand touched the wood and he heard voices inside.

It was Nancy’s voice.

"Let’s do it this Saturday then. A simple ceremony is fine, no need to invite too many people."

Xavier’s hand froze in mid-air.

Then came Julian’s voice, filled with warmth: "Whatever you say. But we should have at least four tables for the banquet. You’ll need to invite some elders from your hometown to bear witness."

Nancy laughed softly. "Alright, we'll do it your way."

Xavier stood at the door, completely paralyzed.

Julian spoke again: "By the way, it’s not convenient for you right now, so don't drink. I’ll handle the toasts for you."

Nancy said, "It’s only been two months. You don't need to worry so much."

Xavier’s head spun.

Two months.

He shoved the door open.

Inside the office, Nancy and Julian were sitting side-by-side on the sofa, a draft of a wedding invitation spread out before them.

Nancy was in uniform. Her stomach was flat, showing nothing.

But her hand was resting on the back of Julian’s, and the two were sitting so close it was clear they were more than just colleagues.

Julian was the first to react. He stood up, shielding Nancy. "Captain, can I help you?"

Xavier didn't look at him. His eyes were pinned on Nancy.

"Nancy, you... the two of you..."

Nancy stood up slowly, her expression calm.

"Xavier, this is my husband, Major Julian. We registered our marriage a year ago. We are holding the banquet this Saturday."

Xavier’s lips moved, his voice raspy: "You and him... the act became real?"

Nancy looked at him and suddenly gave a small smile.

It was a faint smile, tinged with a hint of irony.

"That’s right. You must come to the wedding feast when the time comes."

Chapter 15

Xavier stood at the door, feeling as if all his strength had been drained away.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his mind was a complete blank; not a single word would come out.

Nancy walked over, reached out, and closed the door.

The wooden panel shut in front of Xavier with a soft thud.

The hallway fell into silence.

Xavier stood where he was, motionless.

He slowly lowered his head and saw that he was still gripping the key tied with the red string.

The red string had faded and frayed at the edges.

He squeezed the key so hard his palm ached.

But she would never take this key again.

Three days later, at the military district guest house.

There were four tables set for the banquet—not a grand affair, but a lively one.

Nancy wore a red dress, her hair pinned up with a small red flower tucked behind her ear.

She wore no makeup, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes crinkled into crescents when she smiled.

Julian stood beside her, looking exceptionally sharp in his crisp military uniform. For once, his face wasn't set in a stern expression; a smile hung constantly on the corners of his mouth.

The guests arrived one after another.

Most were colleagues and leaders from the military district, along with a few of Nancy’s comrades from the Northern Front mission.

Everyone chatted and laughed, creating a wonderful atmosphere.

When Xavier arrived, the room full of people went quiet for a heartbeat.

He was wearing a brand-new uniform and carrying a red gift bag.

He didn't look at anyone, walking straight to a corner to sit down.

Guests at the nearby tables began to whisper.

"Isn't that Captain Xavier? What's he doing here? Didn't he just divorce her sister? How does he have the nerve to show up?"

"Exactly. His wife just miscarried, and he forced her into a divorce. What a heartless man."

"That’s not the whole story, is it? I heard he discovered his wife and mother-in-law were plotting against Nancy, and that's why he left."

"For real?"

"It's true. Nancy’s biological mother was murdered by that stepmother. The case was reopened yesterday, and she’s already been arrested."

"Well, I guess Xavier did one decent thing then..."

Someone noticed Xavier’s expression and lowered their voice: "Look at him. He’s lost so much weight in just a few days. I wonder if it’s because of the baby, or because he still has feelings for Nancy."

Sitting in the corner, Xavier heard every word drifting into his ears.

He didn't move or offer a rebuttal.

His eyes remained fixed on Nancy.

She was standing with Julian, offering toasts to the guests.

She looked like she was smiling with true happiness.

Watching that smile, Xavier’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

He suddenly remembered that during his missions in the previous life, he had imagined this scene countless times.

After the mission ended, he would return to the compound, and Nancy would be standing at the gate in a red bridal gown waiting for him.

He would hold her hand, go from table to table offering toasts, and tell everyone: This is my wife.

But what happened later?

The mission ended, and his act with Wendy became real; they married and had children.

He had thought about divorce, but Wendy was pregnant, and he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He had thought about confessing, but Nancy had already spent over a decade caring for his parents; he didn't dare imagine what would happen if she knew the truth.

So he delayed year after year, until the children were grown, until his hair turned white, and until he was diagnosed with cancer—only then did he find the courage to go back to her.

She had waited fifty-three years for him, until she coughed blood, until she breathed her last.

He hadn't even had the chance to say he was sorry.

Xavier gripped his teacup tightly.

He watched her smile, watched her talk to Julian, and watched her occasionally lower her head to touch her still-flat abdomen.

He wanted to stand up.

He wanted to walk over to her and say: Nancy, come with me.

But he didn't move.

Sitting in the corner, watching her smiling face, he suddenly felt that the smile was very foreign.

It wasn't the smile from before.

When the Nancy of the past looked at him, her eyes were full of light.

Now, she only had that light when she looked at Julian.

Xavier slowly let go of the teacup.

Why should he trouble himself to ruin the wedding she had looked forward to for so long?

He had already ruined her life once.

He shouldn't ruin it a second time.

Just then, Nancy and Julian walked over holding teacups.

"Xavier." Nancy stood before him, her tone very calm. "I offer this tea to you as a toast."

Xavier stood up, his hands trembling slightly.

"Thank you for investigating the cause of my mother's death and seeking justice for me. Rose has been sentenced. What was owed has been paid back."

She paused, glanced at Julian beside her, and then looked back at Xavier.

"From this day forward, the past is wiped clean."

Having said that, she raised her teacup and drained it in one gulp.

Chapter 16

Xavier watched her head tilt back as she drank the tea, his throat tightening.

He also raised his cup and downed it in one go.

The tea was warm, but it felt like a blade in his mouth, cutting his throat with pain.

He wanted to say something.

He wanted to say he was sorry, to offer congratulations, to wish her happiness.

But the words were stuck in his throat, and not a single one would come out.

Nancy put down her cup, gave him a nod, and turned to take Julian’s arm, moving to the next table.

Xavier watched her back, feeling as though a piece of his chest had been hollowed out.

Before the banquet had even ended, he stood up, placed the red gift bag on the table, and left in a hurry.

Inside the bag was a red scarf. He had spent days picking it out, thinking that on her wedding day—regardless of whether he was the groom—he should give her a proper gift.

He didn't have time to say it, nor did he dare.

Back at the dormitory, Xavier closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, motionless.

The sounds of the wedding feast outside continued, with bursts of laughter drifting in.

He closed his eyes, and his mind was filled with Nancy’s words.

"The past is wiped clean."

She didn't even hate him anymore.

That was the most painful part.

In the days that followed, Xavier became a different person.

He threw all his focus into his missions, charging into danger wherever it appeared and vying for the most difficult assignments.

In one year, he carried out nine high-risk missions, adding seven new scars to his body.

When others urged him to rest, he just smiled and said nothing, then turned around to sign up for the next one.