Huaguo · Modu · New District.

Meet Café.

On the second floor, by the window, a man and a woman sat facing each other.

The air was thick with the rich smell of roasted coffee beans. It drifted up with the soft piano from downstairs and pressed into Everett Caldwell’s head bit by bit.

To him, none of it was worth much.

The war songs on Zhenxing Pass were better. Those could still shake a man awake.

Across the table, the woman looked him over twice. There was already a trace of displeasure in her eyes, like she’d found something lacking before he had even opened his mouth.

Before Everett could speak, she tapped open the file on her phone and read it out loud.

“Zhang Yong’an.”

“Thirty-two. First marriage.”

“Currently the principal of Shanhe Martial Academy in New District.”

She lifted her eyes and gave him another once-over.

“Not bad-looking either. That’s rare.”

Everett gave a calm nod, face flat as stone.

“Just got back from the front.”

The woman didn’t look surprised at all. She set down her phone and toyed with the women’s wristwatch on her hand, the kind that cost eighty thousand. Her fingers moved slowly, showing it off without saying so.

“Don’t talk yet. Listen to me first.”

Her tone was sharp, the kind used by someone long used to taking the lead.

“The world’s getting messier by the day. My time is valuable, so I’ll keep it short.”

Everett parted his lips, meaning to offer a few polite words.

But the woman didn’t give him the chance. She went on at once, quick and dry.

“Let’s be direct. I’ll tell you my standards.”

She leaned back a little, chin raised.

“I’ve got two kids now, yes. But my last husband died on the front line as cannon fodder.”

When she said those words, her face didn’t move much. No grief. No ache. Just plain talk, like she was discussing spoiled grain.

Everett’s gaze darkened a fraction.

The woman kept going.

“So I do not accept active-duty martial artists.”

“Still, times are chaotic now. For me, marriage matters a lot.”

She fixed her eyes on him, plain and calculating.

“Especially marrying a strong martial artist who can protect me.”

Everett Caldwell set down his coffee cup. His face stayed calm, almost blank.

“I understand.”

The woman cut him off at once. She rolled her eyes, lifted a hand, and smoothed her hair back, like she was talking to someone beneath her.

“Listen to me.”

“My two boys are already in middle school. If we get married, they’re not changing their surname. I’ve already had two, and I’m worn out. I’m not having any more. But later on, they can still see you through old age and bury you, so don’t act like you’re taking a loss.”

She leaned back in her chair, chin raised.

“And don’t think you’re getting the short end of it. I may be seven years older than you, but look at me. My face, my figure—they’ve held up just fine. For a retired old military warrior like you, I’m more than enough.”

Her lips curled, sharp as a knife.

“A grunt like you—what decent girl would marry one now?”

“And I heard you got sent back from the front because you were injured. If you didn’t have no chance to return to the battlefield in this life, and if the Martial Artists Alliance hadn’t arranged work for you, I would never have agreed to come out on this blind date just because Aunt Wang asked.”

Everett’s brow tightened.

A hard line flashed across his face, then faded.

He remembered she had been introduced by family, so he only took a sip of coffee and kept his temper down. The bitter taste spread in his mouth, but it was nothing next to the sourness rising in his chest.

The woman kept going, not giving him a breath.

“I heard you’ve got a first-class merit citation.”

Her eyes lit up at that, like she had finally reached the point.

“That’s perfect. Once we marry, my two boys won’t need to go to the front.”

Everett parted his lips and answered in a low voice,

“Yes. Huaguo does have that rule.”

Maybe because he had interrupted her, the woman’s gaze snapped back at him, fierce and full of blame.