Chapter 472: Wrong, Wrong, Wrong

Night fell. In the heavily guarded military officers' family compound, inside a small villa whose floor space was enormous but which was almost entirely undecorated—

"Yisha?"

Looking at her daughter, who was hugging a giant plush toy and sitting dazed on the sofa staring into space, a tall, slender middle-aged woman walked over worriedly, first pressed her chin against her daughter's forehead to test her temperature, then gathered her into her arms and asked gently:

"What's wrong with you? Is there somewhere you're not feeling well?"

Feeling the familiar warm embrace, the policewoman came back to herself, shook her head, then threw her arms around the woman's waist in return, buried her face deep in her chest, and answered in a muffled voice:

"I'm actually doing fine, it's just… just that some things at work aren't going very smoothly…"

"I see."

Hearing that her daughter wasn't ill, the middle-aged woman immediately let out a breath of relief, then, gently stroking her daughter's smooth long hair, asked softly:

"Is it still the matter with the Lane family from last time? Are they still refusing to cooperate with the investigation?"

"No, this time it's something else…"

Recalling the scene she had seen at noon, as well as the results of her investigation into the man "Hearing Li Ang Lane," the policewoman lifted her head from her mother's embrace and said with a complicated look in her eyes:

"Mom, three months ago, when Father… the military side—did they cut off the pensions of a lot of bereaved families ahead of schedule?"

"There was such a thing…"

Hearing her daughter's question, the middle-aged woman thought for a moment, then said somewhat helplessly:

"You know how it is too. The military's expenses have been too high in recent years, the kingdom's finances can barely keep up, so this year's spending was cut by a third. Your father comes home sighing every day… Yisha, what made you think to ask about this?"

"I just feel it's a bit unfair…"

Recalling the family of four in the files she had pulled up that afternoon, who had nearly been hounded to death, a flash of heartache rose in the policewoman's eyes, and her voice grew louder and louder as she spoke.

"The military has a full forty-seven departments, and every one of them spends a lot. There are clearly so many places where spending could be cut—why on earth did they have to touch the pensions?

Mom, do you know? A lot of the people still drawing pensions are bereaved families left behind by the War of National Defense six years ago—there are even orphans whose parents both died!

Many of them simply don't have the ability to support themselves; they're practically living off that little bit of pension. For the military to cut off the pensions early—isn't that the same as forcing them to their deaths!"

"Yisha?"

Hearing the words coming out of her daughter's mouth, the kindly-faced woman couldn't help but stiffen slightly, then her expression immediately grew stern, and she frowned and said coldly:

"Tell Mom—who taught you to ask these questions?"

"Nobody taught me, this is what I thought of myself!"

"You've never thought about these things before! You used to always be…"

"People change!"

"But you used to… sigh! Never mind…"

Looking at her daughter, who was pressing her lips tightly together and clearly digging in her heels, the middle-aged woman couldn't help but rub her brow helplessly, then lowered her voice again and admonished:

"I don't care where you heard it from either, but you can say these things to Mom—just don't ever say them in front of your father…"

"Why?"

The policewoman said, her eyes full of displeasure:

"Even if he wasn't the one who proposed it, for such an outrageous decision to pass, at the very least he acquiesced to it! Since he did it, he should…"

"Yisha!"

Cutting off her increasingly heated daughter, the middle-aged woman scolded sternly:

"You're this old already, you should know better! So much has happened this year—do you know how much pressure your father is under? Don't take your problems and pile more on him!"

"Then what about when he piles trouble on me?"

Recalling the man she had seen at noon—wearing an old overcoat, blissfully eating pudding that had spilled onto the table—the policewoman, who felt an aching tightness in her chest, couldn't help but speak up:

"Mom, today I ran into a man. Both his parents died in the War of National Defense six years ago, but over the years the military only actually paid out a third of the pension he was owed, forcing him at thirteen or fourteen to go out and support his family—hauling sacks under the summer sun, soaking in cold water at the docks all day scrubbing cargo ships!

That already sounds outrageous, right? But do you know? After Father signed off on it, the remaining third of his pension was cut off too, and he still has a younger brother and sister at home, only six or seven years old! His sick little sister stopped taking her medicine on her own to save money, and nearly died in the hospital!"

"Sigh…" Looking at her daughter, whose eyes were faintly reddening, the middle-aged woman, who knew the military's situation, let out a sigh and said, her eyes full of guilt:

"Your father is also… also truly out of options… Yisha, how is that family doing now? Mom still has some money on hand—why don't you first…"

"No need, he probably doesn't lack for money anymore now."

The policewoman took a deep breath, turned her head away, and said in a low, complicated voice:

"He joined the rebels, and has now become an informant planted inside the police department. This morning he sabotaged our arrest operation and rescued a rebel who had taken part in the assassination of the Princess."

"…"

"So now it's not me giving Father trouble, it's him giving me trouble, isn't that right?"

Glancing at her mother, who had been rendered speechless by the question, the policewoman gave a cold laugh, settled back into the sofa, and kept her eyes on the doorway.

"This time I should be able to ask, right? Right now I just want to know—what kind of feelings did he have in his heart when he signed off on such a rotten, heartless proposal!"

"…"

Looking at her daughter, who was clearly hugging a soft plush toy but looked just like a hedgehog with its spines raised, all ready to prick someone, the middle-aged woman could only coax softly:

"Yisha, be good, you first…"

"Don't try to talk me out of it!"

The policewoman, aching inside, turned her head away and said stubbornly:

"What you do, you should have the courage to face—that's what he taught me!"

"But he also taught you that there are always some duties that are destined to come above everything else."

Patting her daughter on the back, the middle-aged woman said, her eyes dimming:

"The ones who fell in the War of National Defense weren't only other people's families. Your older brother and your two uncles all died six years ago too. In fact, this pension cut started with our own family's payments being stopped…

Stop! Don't argue yet!

I know our family doesn't need to live off the pension. Mom only brings this up to say—please don't think too badly of your father. To keep this mess of a military running, he really has already given it everything he has."

Looking up at the empty room on the second floor, and remembering her eldest son who had perished six years ago, the middle-aged woman said, her eyes glistening with tears:

"At the beginning of this year, after the previous person in charge of the military department was executed for going too far, he left countless holes that needed filling, and it just happened to coincide with expenditures being slashed heavily.

At the time, everyone knew this hole simply couldn't be plugged. Whoever took over would at best end up with a reputation for incompetence. Among the few people qualified to take over, none was willing to take on this hot potato — only your father stepped forward…"

Recalling her husband, who over the past year had grown increasingly taciturn, whose frame had become thinner and thinner, and whose back had slowly begun to hunch, the middle-aged woman gripped the policewoman's hand and said in a faintly trembling voice:

"The war of national defense six years ago is an eternal pain in your father's heart, and right now the problems in the military department really are too big. If he lets things go on like this any longer, or if an incompetent successor takes over, what happened six years ago will sooner or later repeat itself. He really cannot let go.

Mom knows that suspending the pensions early is very excessive, but have you noticed? From the moment he took on this burden until now, it's only been a little over half a year, and your father's hair has already turned half white — he's nearly been drained dry by all those matters in the military department."

"But couldn't he just…"

"Miss Yisha, your father really has done his best."

Cutting off her daughter's words, the middle-aged woman sighed softly and said:

"This year I watched with my own eyes — everything he could possibly do, he has already done. But in the end he still couldn't plug the hole, so he only reluctantly agreed to cut back some spending in this area.

Moreover, your father also issued a strict order: before a comfort officer decides to suspend a pension, he must visit at least three times within two months to confirm that the recipient can still maintain a livelihood after the pension is suspended.

But after all, he only has one pair of eyes — he can't watch everyone. So no matter how much preparation he made, it's still inevitable that something like this would happen…

Sigh, Miss Yisha, consider it Mom begging you — go back to your room, please don't give him any more to worry about, alright?"

"…"

"Alright?"

"Fine…"

The unusually stubborn policewoman ultimately lost to her mother's gentle pleading, and was pulled away from the sofa with eyes full of unwillingness.

After being pushed back into her room and lying on the soft mattress hugging her plush toy, she, already utterly exhausted, did not fall asleep peacefully as usual. Instead, she stared blankly at the chandelier on the ceiling.

Father, who has been struggling to keep the military department afloat, isn't wrong… I, who arrest the rebels attacking and sabotaging everywhere, aren't wrong either… And he, whose pension was cut off and could only join the rebels, isn't wrong either…

Then who exactly is wrong?

(End of this chapter)