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21. Sunrise

◎ We Need to Talk ◎

Lu Shiyin came out of the restroom and saw Aman’s husband, Lao Gao, standing nearby with his hands in his pockets. When he saw her, he straightened up and looked directly at her.

Lu Shiyin felt it was odd. The two of them didn’t seem like they had a bad relationship, but the current situation was confusing. She walked past him, nodded slightly, and was about to leave when he stepped directly in front of her:
“Talk?”

“Talk about what?” Lu Shiyin asked, puzzled.

The man gave a small laugh, licked his lips, and moved closer:
“Swingers’ game.”

Lu Shiyin frowned, shot him a sharp glare, and was about to walk away, but Lao Gao added,
“Your husband is with my wife right now.”

Lu Shiyin found it ridiculous and turned to leave, but Lao Gao suddenly grabbed her hand and wouldn’t let go. She struggled a few times but couldn’t shake free.

Before Lao Gao could say anything else, someone punched him to the ground.

Lu Shiyin was startled and saw two men scuffling on the ground. Cheng Jinghe clearly had the upper hand.

Lu Shiyin wanted to pull them apart but didn’t dare get too close. She stood frozen in place, not knowing what to do. Aman came rushing over, panting, and when she saw Lu Shiyin just standing there, she yelled,
“Help pull them apart!”

But she herself didn’t dare step in. Anyone who tried to separate them would be asking for trouble. So the two women could only stand there anxiously.

Seeing her husband getting beaten to a pulp, Aman suddenly shoved Lu Shiyin and cursed,
“Your husband is crazy!”

Lu Shiyin had already been unsteady on her feet, so she stumbled with that push. That got her riled up. Swearing at her again? She wasn’t some meek little schoolgirl.

She fought back—grabbed Aman’s hair and kneed her, forcing Aman to her knees with a loud wail.

Lu Shiyin covered one ear with one hand, while the other hand didn’t loosen its grip—she pulled even harder. Aman flailed, scratching and clawing. Lu Shiyin’s hand quickly turned red, skin broken. Aman couldn’t free herself, so she started tugging at Lu Shiyin’s clothes and digging at her legs.

Even though Lu Shiyin had the upper hand, a fight between women usually came down to hair-pulling and scratching. After a few rounds, her hand was injured with honor.

Aman’s screams snapped the two men out of it. Cheng Jinghe let go first and rushed to pull Lu Shiyin away. But she wouldn’t let go. Lao Gao saw his wife being dragged by the hair and panicked. Yet, all he dared do was shout at Lu Shiyin to let go—not daring to make another move.

With fury in her eyes, Lu Shiyin finally released her grip. Aman, clearly enraged, turned to strike back, but Lu Shiyin glared at her, and she immediately flinched, biting her lip as if about to cry.

A crowd had begun to gather. With Cheng Jinghe calming her down, Lu Shiyin gradually cooled off.

The hotel manager came running over and dispersed the crowd, trying to get both couples to make peace.

Aman yelled about compensation and said everything would be fine if they paid. Cheng Jinghe raised an eyebrow:
“Who laid hands on my wife first?”

Aman was speechless and elbowed the man beside her,
“Why’d you touch her?”

The way Cheng Jinghe had said “my wife” so naturally made Lu Shiyin glance at him.

The manager didn’t dare offend Cheng Jinghe. Though he didn’t know exactly who he was, he’d been instructed to treat him with care, so he turned to appease the other couple instead.

The manager was skilled at handling such matters, and things were quickly resolved. Both couples left separately.

Back in the room, Lu Shiyin didn’t say a word and walked toward the bedroom. Cheng Jinghe grabbed her arm to check her injuries.

Aman’s nails were long, but luckily didn’t scratch her face. The worst cuts were around her collarbone, and red marks were scattered on her arms and legs. Her right hand was the worst—skin visibly broken, with a couple of spots even bleeding.

The hotel staff soon brought up some medicine. Cheng Jinghe dipped cotton in the disinfectant and tried to apply it, but Lu Shiyin refused, wanting to do it herself.

Cheng Jinghe’s expression was serious. He didn’t let her move and carefully applied the medicine to her collarbone and limbs.

He worked slowly, and the more he applied, the darker his face became. Yet he asked softly,
“Does it hurt?”

Lu Shiyin shook her head and smiled:
“It doesn’t. You don’t need to be so gentle.”

He glanced at her, helplessly saying,
“You’re still laughing? Was fighting fun?”

Lu Shiyin grinned:
“She pushed me first.”

She figured those two had mistaken their quiet and easygoing demeanor for weakness, thinking they could be taken advantage of—until they both got beat and didn’t dare say a word afterward.

Cheng Jinghe said nothing, holding her hand and inspecting the wounds on her right hand. His brows furrowed deeper:
“If it hurts, tell me.”

The iodine was only for disinfection, not particularly painful, but the cuts on her hand did sting. Lu Shiyin clenched her teeth, saying nothing.

Cheng Jinghe felt her hand trembling slightly and lightened his touch, blowing gently over the wound.

Once done, Lu Shiyin pulled her hand back, unfazed by the injuries. She got up, ready to tidy up and rest early.

Cheng Jinghe said,
“Can we talk?”

Lu Shiyin gave a strange little laugh. He asked what she was laughing about.

She said,
“Lao Gao said the same thing to me: ‘Can we talk?'”

Cheng Jinghe laughed along,
“What exactly did he say to you?”

“Do you really want me to repeat it? It’s kind of awkward. Why don’t you tell me what Aman said to you instead?”

She raised her eyebrows at him, signaling him to speak.

Cheng Jinghe looked away and smiled faintly, then said seriously,
“Anyway, I’d never do something like that.”

Lu Shiyin flicked his forehead:
“Foolish little brother. Don’t go punching people again next time—it’s dangerous.”

He wasn’t happy with the title “foolish little brother.”
“What did you call me?”

“Did I say it wrong? Isn’t that what you are? Rushing in to fight—‘foolish’; younger than me—‘little brother’.”

Just then, Cheng Jinghe’s phone vibrated. Lu Shiyin saw the screen: [Yang Jiarou].

Cheng Jinghe got up, pointed outside:
“I’ll take this call.”

Lu Shiyin nodded, watching him walk away, and suddenly remembered: their home’s robot dog was called “HY-098″—there was a “Y” in “Yang Jiarou.”

She lowered her eyes and went back to the bedroom.

Outside, Cheng Jinghe answered the call. Yang Jiarou told him she had spoken with his father, and the school would be participating in the robotic caregiver program he had proposed.

Cheng Jinghe was thrilled by the news and chatted briefly with her. When he returned, Lu Shiyin was no longer on the couch, and the bedroom door was closed.

He lightly knocked, but got no reply. Hearing the sound of running water inside, he guessed she was washing up and didn’t disturb her.

The next morning, Lu Shiyin woke up early. When she opened the door, she realized Cheng Jinghe wasn’t in the room.

It was still early and barely light outside. She decided to take a walk and unknowingly made her way to the beach.

The early morning beach was quiet, with only a few people in wetsuits walking past. When she got tired, she sat on some steps. The sun was slowly rising over the sea.

Resting her chin in her hand, Lu Shiyin looked at the brightening sky and felt a deep sense of peace. She sat for a long time, even when people passed by—she didn’t react.

A man in a wetsuit stopped and looked at her in surprise:
“Joyce!”

Lu Shiyin didn’t react at first. When she looked up and saw it was the white man she met yesterday, she remembered she had made up the name “Joyce.”

Eric sat next to her and asked what she was doing and why she was alone.

Lu Shiyin said,
“Woke up too early, just out for a walk.”

Eric asked,
“Are you traveling alone?”

Lu Shiyin shook her head:
“With my husband.”

Eric exclaimed,
“Your husband is too much—how could he keep leaving you behind!”

Lu Shiyin figured it was a misunderstanding. He’d just happened to see her alone twice. Aside from those moments, she and Cheng Jinghe were always together.

She explained, but Eric thought she was making excuses. She gave up trying.

Eric told her about the fish and beautiful coral he saw while diving and suggested she try it too.

Lu Shiyin nodded and said she would.

Later, Eric asked if she wanted to get breakfast together.

Lu Shiyin stood up, patted herself off, and walked with him to the restaurant. Eric was chatty and kept the atmosphere light. Lu Shiyin didn’t feel awkward at all.

She even remembered how, back when she was overseas, she met many people at parties who were great conversationalists—no awkward pauses, no need for her to force topics.

Cheng Jinghe had always maintained a good habit of exercising. Even on vacation, his body clock woke him early. He went for a jog and came back to find the bedroom door open but no sign of Lu Shiyin.

He called her and realized she hadn’t taken her phone. Figuring she couldn’t be far, maybe out for breakfast, he freshened up and went downstairs.

He scanned the restaurant and saw Lu Shiyin chatting fluently in English with a white man on a terrace.

He took a deep breath, grabbed some food casually, and sat beside her.

Eric exclaimed:
“Wow! Is this your husband?”

Lu Shiyin nodded.

After introductions and a handshake, Eric asked,
“Are you unhappy with your wife? Why do you keep leaving her alone?”

Cheng Jinghe felt wronged. He turned to look at Lu Shiyin, who said in Chinese:
“I explained. He just wouldn’t listen.”

Eric continued criticizing Cheng Jinghe, who silently endured. Finally, he said coldly:
“Got it. Do you need anything else? If not, I’d like to eat breakfast with my wife in peace.”

The air turned tense. Lu Shiyin, thinking it wasn’t worth arguing with a 19-year-old, said to Eric:
“Don’t take it to heart. He just doesn’t sound nice—he didn’t mean anything.”

But Cheng Jinghe disagreed:
“I’m serious. Please stay away from us.”

Lu Shiyin glanced at him and gently patted his leg under the table:
“What are you doing?”

Eric wasn’t clueless. He stood and said to Lu Shiyin:
“Come find me anytime—you’ve got a friend in me.”

After he left, silence hung over the table. Cheng Jinghe finally asked:
“Lu Shiyin, do you have an issue with me?”

Lu Shiyin replied:
“No, I don’t. Like I said, he misunderstood. He saw me alone twice and thought you were a bad husband. I tried to explain. He didn’t listen.”

“No, I mean—do you have an issue with me? If you do, you can tell me.”

Lu Shiyin was startled:
“Is it because of what he said? I really don’t have a problem with you.”

Cheng Jinghe said,
“You always seem so talkative and lively around everyone except me.”

Lu Shiyin asked:
“I don’t talk with you?”

“It’s different. I feel like you’re more alive with others.”

Lu Shiyin sighed, finishing her last bite of bread:
“I think you’re overthinking it.”

Just then, his phone rang again. She glanced at the screen—Yang Jiarou again. She gave a half-smile:
“Your phone.”

He didn’t answer. He muted it and placed it face-down on the table.
“I think we need to talk.”

Lu Shiyin said:
“I don’t think so. You’re overthinking.” She stood up to leave.

Cheng Jinghe immediately followed her back to the room.

Before she could go in, he grabbed her arm:
“Let’s talk.”

Lu Shiyin was tired. As she turned, she saw his phone screen again—with the name Yang Jiarou.

She rubbed her temples and nodded:
“Fine, let’s talk. What do you want to say?”

Cheng Jinghe didn’t know where to begin. He felt like something had changed in Lu Shiyin since that night. She became distant, colder.

But he stayed silent too long.

Lu Shiyin said softly:
“When you figure out what you want to say, we can talk. For now, take your call.”

With that, she walked into the bedroom, closed the door, and left Cheng Jinghe outside.