Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]-Chapter 263 - Strong hand

Lin Jinju stood outside the house, staring at the horizon where the sun was slowly cascading down, casting a warm orange hue across the sky. The wind was still, the air quiet, almost too quiet.

It had been exactly seven days.

Seven whole days since her children had gone missing.

She rubbed at her tired eyes, fingers brushing over the dark circles etched beneath them. Her skin felt dry, almost paper-thin. She hadn’t slept properly in a week. Barely ate. Barely sat. The thought of resting felt wrong when her children were still out there.

Seven whole days...

She repeated it again in her mind, as if trying to make sense of how much time had passed. The waiting felt endless. The silence had been unbearable. All she knew—all she knew—was that they were alive.

Her eyes drifted toward the far distance, to the direction of the place once known as City A.

There was nothing left now. No tall buildings. No distant silhouettes of towers reaching toward the sky. Even from here, where the city had once been faintly visible, there was only a jagged shadow of ruin. Nothing stood. It was all gone.

Everything had been destroyed in a single day.

Even now, when she closed her eyes, she could still remember it so vividly—the day of the blast. The way it unfolded was forever seared into her memory.

That day... she had been in her bathroom, crouched down with a sponge in hand, anxiously scrubbing the grout between the tiles in the shower. It was something she did when her thoughts became too loud. Cleaning quieted her mind. It numbed everything else. At least for a while.

But then—suddenly—the ground trembled violently beneath her.

The sponge slipped from her fingers. She stumbled back against the wall.

Panicked, she rushed outside the house, her heart hammering in her chest. She looked up—and froze.

In the far distance, the city was being destroyed.

One explosion after another, blasts that lit up the sky like it was the middle of the night, sending dark clouds and debris soaring into the air. It looked like a scene from a nightmare, but it was real.

It was real.

Her knees buckled.

Her children—Hana and Yunfeng—were still in that city.

She nearly collapsed to the ground, her legs unable to support her, when someone appeared beside her.

It was Jai’s father.

He caught her just in time, steadying her with both hands as she trembled.

"They’re alive," he told her firmly, his voice low and steady. "Our children made it out of the city. They’re safe. They’re in a secure place, and they’ll come to us soon."

The words broke the dam inside her. A tidal wave of relief surged through her body.

She clung to him, sobbing into his arms, her shoulders shaking. Her fingers curled tightly into his sleeves. In that moment, she had nothing else—only those words to hold onto.

Blinking, Lin Jinju pulled herself back into the present.

That moment had been her last real relief.

Since then, she had only received scattered updates. Brief fragments from people coming and going—confirmation they were alive, that they were safe. But never details. Never anything solid.

And then, just yesterday, even that stopped.

No more news. No more updates.

She had gone to speak with Shinju directly, hoping to learn more about Yunfeng and Hana’s situation. But when she got there, he was busy—overwhelmed, dealing with other emergencies, other issues. He barely had a moment to glance her way.

So she had left silently.

And returned to the house next to his—alone.

Now she stood silently outside the large gate, hands resting against the cold metal bars.

The wind picked up softly, brushing strands of hair from her face.

She sighed aloud, her voice barely more than a whisper. "My children... you’re all I’ve got left..."

Her eyes stung again, tears she was too tired to stop building up.

"Please... please come back home safely."

Lin Jinju lingered a little longer by the gate, her hands resting against the cold metal, trying to steady herself. But then—she felt it.

A gaze.

Her brows knit slightly as she turned her head to the side. Not far off, standing by the side of a vehicle, were two soldiers in casual uniform. Their eyes were locked on her.

She immediately looked away, choosing to ignore it.

But their voices carried in the still air, far too loud to be ignored.

"Her? She’s old, but damn, that body... she’s gotta be banging hot under that dress," one of them muttered with a smirk.

"Eww, man, she’s old," the other replied with a chuckle.

"What? I like my women older. And a little sassy. She looks like the perfect mix."

The laughter that followed sent a cold wave up her spine. Her hands clenched at her sides. She forced herself to stay still, her jaw tight. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard things like this—but it never got easier. Still, she tried to let it go.

Then—

"Whoa, she looked at you! She looked! Man, she still looks good!"

The snickering was like nails on a chalkboard.

That was it.

Without a word, Lin Jinju turned on her heel and walked straight toward them. Her steps were steady, her back straight, eyes sharp.

The two men turned slightly, one of them still grinning—right up until she stopped in front of them.

Before he could say anything else, her hand flew out, landing a sharp slap across his cheek.

Smack.

The sound echoed in the open space. The soldier stumbled slightly, caught off guard.

The air went dead silent.

The second man stared, eyes wide. The one who was slapped had his hand over his cheek, blinking in disbelief.

Lin Jinju didn’t flinch.

"That rotten stench reeks even from a distance," she said flatly, her voice calm but biting. "Go wash your mouth before it spreads further."

She didn’t wait for a response. She turned and walked back toward her home, ignoring the stunned silence left behind.

She stepped inside and shut the door behind her with more force than usual. Then she locked it. Top lock. Bottom lock. Bolt.

She leaned against the door for a moment, letting out a long breath.

It wasn’t anything new.

After her husband passed away, it had been like this more than once. She had run their small noodle shop, trying to make ends meet while raising Hana and Yunfeng. But every now and then, men would come by. Some regular customers. Others strangers passing through.

The glances were always the same—lingering, disrespectful.

And a few were worse.

Some tried to touch her. Others whispered disgusting things when no one else was around. At first, it used to shake her to her core. She’d cry at night, curled up beside her sleeping children, trying to keep quiet so they wouldn’t wake.

She was a sheltered wife once—quiet, obedient. She hadn’t known how to handle people like that.

But time had changed her.

Years passed. And she had grown wise. She learned how to respond, how to defend herself, how to stand firm. Because if she didn’t, no one else would.

Men like that were everywhere. They always would be.

And the only way to deal with them was with a strong hand—and no fear.