Return of the Crippled War God

Zhao Yun wheeled into the study that morning, his movement slow but deliberate. The faint creak of the wheelchair broke the silence in the room and caught the attention of Mei who sat by the window. “I need some money, Mei.” He muttered as he wheeled further from the door. She lifted her head and looked at him, her slender fingers trailing along the rim of the porcelain teacup in her hand. “So you are leaving again?” Her sharp voice cuts through the air, edged with sarcasm, her eyes cold, her lips curled into a faint bitter smile. “I… I was,” Zhao Yun tried to speak, but before he could make a complete sentence, Mei's voice cut through again. "Another few days? Or is it a week this time? Maybe a year." Another bitter smirk formed on her lips. “Not this time, I will be back soon.” Zhao Yun responded, his hands gripping the arms of his wheelchair. Mei’s grip on the teacup tightened. "Soon? That's what you said last month. And the month before that." Her voice cracked, her anger bubbling to the surface. "Do you even know what 'soon' means anymore, Zhao Yun?" Before he could respond, the cup in Mei's hand flew across the room. It shattered against his legs, shards scattering onto the floor. Zhao Yun flinched but didn’t move to defend himself, his expression unreadable as he stared at her. Mei turned away, her heartbeat racing faster as her memories threatened to drown her. Her life had been on a completely different path for the past three years. She had worked tirelessly to surpass her brother, Wei, in the corporate world, climbing the ladder with sheer determination and skill. Her success had been her triumph, her way of proving she was just as capable as any man in her family. But her victory had been short-lived. The family elders, led by her manipulative grandmother, the family matriarch, could not accept a woman at the forefront. They came up with a cruel plan and arranged her marriage with Zhao Yun, a man they believed to be powerless and incapable of changing her fate. Zhao Yun was found injured and helpless by the roadside, a once war god, reduced to whispers of pity and scorn. The marriage was a spectacle, a calculated move to suppress Mei’s rise and funnel the family’s wealth toward her brother. Prominent families laughed behind their backs, mocking the union of the queen and the crippled soldier. Despite all that had happened, Mei didn’t blame Zhao Yun. She had accepted the marriage out of duty, knowing he was just another pawn in her grandmother’s game. But the years that followed had eroded her patience. Zhao Yun might not have been responsible for her suffering, but he had done nothing to ease it. Each month, he leaves the house, not disclosing his location, he becomes unreachable and untraceable. Each disappearance came with unexplained expenses, with one million dollars vanishing from their accounts to an unknown destination. Mei had endured the whispers and rumors from outside, but now she was done, she couldn’t keep pretending to be happy when she had lived a lonely life for the past three years. Zhao Yun took a deep breath and leaned forward in his wheelchair, maintaining a calm and soft tone, he muttered, “Mei, please listen to me.” "No, you listen!" she snapped, cutting him off. "For three years, I have waited patiently. I have made excuses for you to everyone who mocks me. I have carried the burden of this marriage alone. And every single month, you vanish to an unknown location, leaving behind nothing but debts and silence." Zhao Yun tried to speak, but her glare stopped him. She stood up and took a few steps closer to him, maintaining a stern voice, she spoke out. "Do you know what it feels like to wake up every morning and wonder if my husband is even alive? To hear nothing from you while the rumors spread like wildfire?" Zhao Yun’s eyes softened, but he didn’t interrupt. "What about the money," she continued, her voice trembling with frustration. "One million dollars, Zhao Yun. Where does it go? What could justify the constant drain on our finances?" Zhao Yun’s gaze quickly dropped to his legs, his expression clouding. "I have my reasons," he said quietly. "Reasons?" Mei let out a bitter laugh. "That’s all you ever say. Reasons. Secrets. Do you think that’s enough to hold our marriage together?" She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me the truth, Zhao Yun. Or I will have to walk away from this. I can’t do this anymore. Not with you.” Zhao Yun leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes briefly as if he was gathering his thoughts. When he looked up at her again, his eyes were covered with pain, guilt, and even shame. "Three years ago, I fought in the war," he began, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. Mei froze, her eyes narrowing as she listened. "It was a decisive battle," he continued. "We were ambushed, outnumbered. I led the army, and we won, but…" He gestured to his legs. "It came at a cost. I was left like this, unable to stand, unable to fight." Mei's gaze flickered to his legs, the scars were still visible. For a moment, her anger went down and was replaced by a pang of guilt. But the feeling passed on as quickly as it came. "And what does this leave us?" she pressed. "What does that have to do with your disappearances? With the money?" Zhao Yun hesitated, it was obvious he didn’t want to say some things and that kept Mei frustrated. "I can’t tell you everything. Not yet." Mei’s face tightened. "Not yet? After three years, that’s all you have to say?" She took a step back, shaking her head. "Zhao Yun, I have been patient. I have tried to understand you and ignore the side talks from my family. But I deserve more than this." Zhao Yun gripped the wheels of his chair, his hand hard and rigid. "I am doing this for us," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "For us?" Mei repeated, her tone dripping with doubt. "If this is for us, then why does it feel like I am the only one fighting for our marriage?" Zhao Yun met her gaze, his expression remained calm. "Because I can’t lose you, Mei. Not now, not ever." “I am sorry, Zhao Yun, you lost me already. Except maybe, you have a better explanation for all of this, something that would put me at ease. But for now, I want a divorce!” Mei muttered.