Xia Jiao had always been a timid child, especially around teachers. It’s hard to pinpoint where this fear came from, similar to how some people are naturally afraid of doctors or police officers. Xia Jiao vaguely remembered being mischievous as a child, and her grandparents would scare her by saying:

“If you don’t eat, I’ll tell your teacher!”

“If you don’t behave, the doctor will give you a shot!”

“If you keep misbehaving, the police will take you away!”

…

While their parenting methods might have been questionable, they truly loved Xia Jiao. Her usually frugal grandfather would spend money that he had set aside for repairing his glasses to buy her the hairpin she had long desired, and her grandmother would save fruits and milk given by others just for Xia Jiao.

Unfortunately, love and childhood trauma often coexist. Xia Jiao could feel their affection, but she never managed to overcome her fear of teachers.

Throughout her school years, she avoided contacting teachers whenever possible and made every effort to steer clear of any interaction outside the classroom. However, if a teacher needed something from her, she would give her all to help.

Including now.

“Relax, don’t move around.”

“Okay, breathe normally… You run out of breath while kissing, right? It’s fine, I’ll teach you. Let’s take it slow.”

“Great job, you’re doing well, just like that.”

Open your lips and don’t resist.

Be a good student, listen to his guidance, follow his lead, and satisfy his desires.

Xia Jiao was aware of Wen Chongyue’s teaching skills and knew he was an excellent teacher. A few years ago, after attending a short English tutoring class, her English grades never fell below 100.

Wen Chongyue’s teaching ability was just as strong now as it was back then.

He was a patient and gentle man.

The festive atmosphere of the Spring Festival had not completely faded.

Though fireworks and firecrackers were banned, and the festive spirit was not as strong as before, the house was decorated differently. It was evident that Wen Chongyue valued rituals. Even without celebrating the New Year in this house, he still hung red characters and a few branches of plum blossoms for decoration.

Xia Jiao gazed up at the ceiling. The room’s lighting was primarily composed of LED strips and floor lamps, casting a soft glow. The bedroom curtains were slightly closed, and the warm air was fragrant with a hint of bergamot.

Wen Chongyue’s lips were warm. He didn’t usually speak much, but he had a remarkably nimble tongue. Xia Jiao tilted her face up, her eyes squinting as she noticed the soft lights above, almost like being enveloped in a gentle, floating sea, where she couldn’t distinguish east from west or north from south.

Don’t be afraid, don’t worry.

I won’t hurt you, you can trust me.

His hands were warm, strong yet gentle, his breath like the warmth of March, and his kisses like the gentle breeze of May.

Spring was bright and vibrant, the sun shining down, the soft wind caressing the cherry blossoms, and countless trees blooming in sequence.

Pain felt like flowers, and love remained unnoticed.

Xia Jiao clutched Wen Chongyue’s arm. She glanced to the side and saw the veins on his forearm, similar to the hollow grass straws she used to love pinching as a child. Her nails dug deep into his arm, and she looked at him with confusion, “Teacher Wen.”

Wen Chongyue comfortingly kissed her cheek, “I’m here.”

Yes.

He is here.

He was Xia Jiao’s husband, her closest person, as he should be.

Xia Jiao closed her eyes. Wen Chongyue didn’t let go, he gently kissed her cheek and whispered, urging her to relax and stay calm.

When she was younger, Xia Jiao had thought about her future and believed she would surely find someone she liked. After all, with 3.5 billion men on Earth, how could she not find one who shared her feelings and met all her expectations?

But it turned out to be quite difficult.

It was harder than going out and buying a lottery ticket to win a 5 million jackpot.

There were plenty of men in the world, but good men were rarer than a three-legged frog.

Xia Jiao didn’t have high hopes when she chose to marry this time. Whether it was deemed pessimistic or melancholic, she and her partner both acknowledged that the foundation of their marriage did not include love. It was more like seeking a compatible companion for the decades to come.

Companions naturally also share other responsibilities. For instance, Wen Chongyue emphasized this aspect, and Xia Jiao initially thought she could accept a loveless foundation. However, for some reason, she ended up crying, not like a delicate flower in the rain but more like a child who had fallen and scraped her knee.

Wen Chongyue didn’t stop because of her tears.

He sighed helplessly, watching Xia Jiao’s trembling form, and simply held her tighter. Silently, he pressed his lips against her eyelids. Like other parts of her, Xia Jiao’s tears tasted slightly salty, like a hint of sea salt. She truly seemed like a mermaid raised in the ocean, fragile and easily broken. Even her tears felt like a muted sound of someone who had fallen into despair; this fragility only served as fuel for the demons’ descent.

No kind-hearted deity would come to save her or halt the invasion. Only the depths of delusion she had to bear, only the premeditated release of pent-up feelings, a determination that could not be denied.

There were three red marks forming on his arm where Xia Jiao had gripped him. He held her hand, turned his face, and kissed her pale fingertips and broken nails.

In the tender abyss filled with tears, Xia Jiao experienced for the first time what it meant to be cut by a gentle blade.

Kisses and aggression are not contradictory, tenderness and violence can coexist.

Xia Jiao had an incredibly long dream.

She dreamed of her childhood, following her grandparents into the wilderness with a small basket, happily picking mushrooms after the rain. Accidentally, she stepped into empty space and fell into an abyss. In the abyss, a purple python, as thick as her wrist, coiled around her limbs, tearing at her skirt and clothes. Terrified, Xia Jiao cried desperately and scrambled to climb out, but the python still pulled her waist deeper into the abyss.

The terror of the nightmare felt too real. When she woke up, Xia Jiao was drenched in sweat. The only light in the room came from a small warm yellow lamp by the bed. Before she even opened her eyes, she heard Wen Chongyue’s breathing. He took a gentle breath, making it hard to tell if he was trying to relax or simply enjoying the moment.

“What time is it?” Xia Jiao mumbled, still dazed.

“It’s still early,” Wen Chongyue replied simply, pressing her back down gently, his hand resting on her shoulder. He leaned down and placed a kiss on the back of her head. “Jiao Jiao, go back to sleep. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Xia Jiao: “…”

How can she not worry about him? The physics textbook from high school had already explained that the frequency of an object’s vibration is proportional to its pitch. Wen Chongyue, eager for knowledge, was more than willing to explore the highest peak of this proportional curve. He looked gentle and refined, but there was a heart hidden beneath that was insatiable. Drowsy and confused, Xia Jiao fell asleep again, and when she woke up once more, it was already completely dark outside.

Xia Jiao sat up.

She rubbed her head and caught a faint scent in the air.

Her slippers were neatly placed by the bed. As she reached for them, her toes touched the warm wooden floor, making her frown and involuntarily gasp.

The sound startled someone outside.

“Awake?” Wen Chongyue, dressed in a black pajama, approached. He gestured for Xia Jiao to sit properly and asked gently, “Would you like something to eat?”

Xia Jiao nodded.

She wasn’t sure if Wen Chongyue had rested at all. He had prepared pumpkin soup, a vibrant golden color without added sugar, just the natural sweetness of the pumpkin. There was stir-fried fresh bamboo shoots with pigeon meat, a nourishing soup made with red dates and goji berries, and mushroom and cabbage noodle soup. For dessert, he served candied orange peel to refresh the palate.

Wen Chongyue expressed some remorse for the events of the afternoon. “Sorry, I held it in for a while.”

Xia Jiao’s eyes were still red. She replied softly, “It’s okay, I like it this way.”

“Then I’m relieved,” Wen Chongyue said, exhaling. He personally served her a bowl of red date and goji berry soup and asked sincerely, “Is it still okay tonight?”

Xia Jiao: “…”

After two days together, she had learned the meaning of “frequent” in Wen Chongyue’s words, through her own experience marked by dark circles under her eyes.

Wen Chongyue hadn’t lied, he truly was skilled in the kitchen and studied health soups—of course, all of these were prepared for Xia Jiao. Compared to the days of takeout or dining at the restaurant downstairs, Xia Jiao’s complexion had indeed improved.

On the first day back to work after the new year, Xia Jiao ran herself ragged with the spring product launch, along with a series of promotional activities and planning. Her headaches showed no signs of easing, with her temples throbbing painfully. The doctor prescribed vitamin B, and under Wen Chongyue’s supervision, she took them daily, but unfortunately, there was little improvement.

Xia Jiao had not yet moved to Wen Chongyue’s place. She still had a month left on her rental agreement, and her roommate was no longer planning to continue living in Beijing. For nearly ten years, unless one took off like a rocket, it was challenging to save enough to buy a house. Like most people trying to find a way out, her roommate and her boyfriend had registered a collective household in Tianjin, and their families had bought a house together that had just finished renovating. They planned to move in right after the new year.

Xia Jiao didn’t intend to continue renting either, she just hadn’t figured out how to break the news to her landlord. The day after she returned to the apartment, the landlord showed up, rang the doorbell, and the first thing he said was a polite request to raise the rent.

“The pandemic affected everything, and meat prices have gone up. I need to eat too,” the landlord, an elderly man who enjoyed taking the bus during rush hour to walk his birds, said loudly with a beaming face. “Everyone’s work is tough, you can see how many subletters just run off with the money. Charging you an extra 500 yuan a month isn’t asking for too much, is it?”

Xia Jiao replied politely, “I’m not planning to renew the lease.”

The landlord’s eyes widened in shock. He frowned and said, “What’s going on? You need to tell me two months in advance if you don’t want to renew. It’s hard to find a new tenant at this time.”

Xia Jiao reminded him, “I recall the contract stating two weeks.”

“I said two months, so it’s two months,” the elderly man raised his voice, clearly displeased. “What’s wrong with you?”

His loud voice echoed in the hallway. Xia Jiao, exhausted from work, had intended to communicate politely, but she was taken aback by his sudden shout. Just as she was processing it, she heard a familiar voice.

“Jiao Jiao, what’s wrong?”

The landlord turned and saw a tall man with a handsome face, dressed sharply in a black coat and a neatly tied tie, as if he had just stepped out of a negotiation meeting. He was holding a lunchbox in his hand.

This building had several floors rented out by the landlord, and he didn’t recognize this tenant. He asked, “Who are you?”

Wen Chongyue politely replied, “I’m Jiao Jiao’s husband.”

He handed the lunchbox to Xia Jiao, looking at her expression. He gently patted her shoulder, signaling her to go inside and whispered, “I’ll handle this.”

Xia Jiao entered the room holding the lunchbox but had no appetite.

In less than two minutes, the doorbell rang again. Xia Jiao hurried to answer it and saw Wen Chongyue.

The landlord had already left.

Xia Jiao invited him in and cautiously told him, “You might not be able to do it tonight, my period has started.”

Wen Chongyue, who was in the process of taking off his coat, raised his eyebrows at her words.

He opened his arms, helplessly saying, “Come here, touch it, and tell me what you feel.”

Xia Jiao thought his request was a bit strange, but she also understood.

As she moved closer, she honestly replied, “Warm.”

Wen Chongyue fell silent for two seconds.

He took Xia Jiao’s hand, lifting it to rest on his chest.

Choosing his words carefully, he said, “Jiao Jiao, I want you to feel my conscience.”

“Not something that would make me lose my conscience.”

°.✩┈┈∘*┈˃̶୨୧˂̶┈*∘┈┈✩.°

Translator’s Note: 🌟 The image above is AI-generated and just for fun! It’s not a representation of the real dish.