Chapter 4: Blame Me?

Returning to Sky Lake Bay, another wave of awkwardness greeted this unfamiliar married couple.

Shen An wheeled the suitcase inside while asking, “Which room is the study?”

Wen Li snapped out of her daze and hurried ahead to show him the way.

When Shen An took out a wooden box from his luggage, Wen Li—seeing how preciously he handled it—assumed it must contain some priceless antique.

But as he opened the box, she saw its contents clearly: a paper airplane, yellowed with age.

Shen An carefully lifted it out, cradling it in his palm before turning to ask Wen Li, “Does this look familiar?”

Wen Li was puzzled. Why would his belongings seem familiar to her?  

Noticing her confusion, a flash of profound disappointment and restraint crossed Shen An’s eyes. He meticulously placed the paper airplane on a bookshelf and covered it with a protective glass case.

“Is it very important?” she asked. An ordinary paper airplane stored in a priceless box and now shielded under glass—it must hold great significance.

Shen An’s gaze was resolute. “Yes, very important.”

Seeing how treasured the item was to him, Wen Li guessed it must have been a gift from someone deeply important—perhaps a White Moonlight or an ex-girlfriend.  

But she had no interest in prying into his secrets. Everyone had cherished memories—some sweet, some bitter—but all were fragments of a beautiful past worth preserving.

“Would you like to stay at a hotel tonight?” Wen Li ventured cautiously.

“Kicking me out already?” Shen An set the suitcase aside, making no move to unpack the rest of his belongings.

Wen Li quickly shook her head in explanation. “No, it’s just that only the master bedroom has a proper bed. The other rooms just have empty frames—no mattresses.”

Shen An looked at her with amusement, as if she’d just told a joke. “You’re staying in the master bedroom, right?”

Wen Li nodded.

“Then why should I take the guest room?” He pointed at himself with his index finger, incredulous.

Wen Li realized he had a point. He was the rightful owner of this house. For over a year, she had been the one occupying it like a usurper. Relenting, she said, “Fine, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”  

She’d buy a mattress tomorrow.

Shen An laughed in exasperation. “We’re legally married, aren’t we?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wen Li had an inkling of where this was going—surely he didn’t mean…?

“Legally married couples don’t sleep apart,” Shen An declared matter-of-factly.

Now it was Wen Li’s turn to flare up. Oh, this temper of hers!  

“You vanished for over a year after the wedding, and now you’re pulling the ‘legally married’ card? I’ve gotten used to sleeping alone,” she snapped. When her temper flared, Wen Li had no patience for diplomacy or saving face.  

Her life motto: *If I’m unhappy, why should you be happy?*  

Seeing her agitation, Shen An softened slightly, aware that her becoming gossip fodder for over a year was entirely his fault. But his tone left no room for argument. “Then you’ll have to get used to sharing a bed from now on. And for the record, I was away on business—not running away from home.”  

Wen Li scoffed inwardly. *What a smooth-talking bastard. If not for his Sickly person reputation, I’d slap him.*  

The thought of his “Sickly person” label made her scrutinize his face. Foreign climates clearly agreed with him—he looked far healthier now than he had at their wedding.

Over a year ago, Shen An had a pale complexion and spoke with a weak voice. He barely managed to attend a simple wedding ceremony, and the toast segment afterward was outright canceled.  

Now, Shen An was full of vigor. Though his face was still pale, it at least had a hint of color, no longer the deathly pallor of before.  

Shen An grew uneasy under her gaze. “Why are you staring at me?”  

“You… seem much healthier?” As a doctor, she understood the basics of observation and diagnosis.  

“I am much better. Might live a few more years.” Shen An brushed off the experiences of the past year with nonchalance.  

Having been sick since childhood, he never shied away from words like life, death, or survival.  

If Ye Shen and Zhou Zhuan were here now, they’d surely get worked up again—they cared more about these things than he did.  

Truthfully, Wen Li had never known exactly what illness he suffered from. She only knew his health had been frail since childhood, his life spent between treatment and recovery.  

Wen Li nodded, genuinely impressed. “Then it seems my senior brother’s medical skills are truly exceptional.”  

She then asked, “Did he mention anything you need to be especially careful about going forward?”  

The difference between Shen An now and before was like night and day. Since he had returned and they would be living together, Wen Li felt that—whether as a doctor or as his wife—she should do her best to take care of him.  

Seeing her scrutinize him so thoroughly, Shen An felt a surge of delight, his lips curling upward despite himself. “Light meals, no strenuous exercise, avoid excessive excitement, take medicine on time, and regular check-ups.”  

He held nothing back from her.  

As a doctor, Wen Li could roughly deduce from his previous condition and these restrictions that he had a heart condition. And judging by his dramatic improvement over the past year, she concluded that Shen An must have undergone surgery abroad.  

From his choice to drink milk at the bar tonight, she guessed he was still in recovery.  

If he was in recovery, why rush back instead of resting properly overseas? Who in the country was so important that he had to return in such a hurry?  

No wonder her senior brother had suddenly gone abroad for a three-month exchange last year—to the same country as Shen An.  

Everything lined up.  

“Alright. My cooking isn’t great anyway, and I don’t make anything too stimulating,” Wen Li said, feigning nonchalance.  

As a doctor, she empathized deeply with patients. The torment of illness was something ordinary people could hardly endure. That he had recovered so well now filled her with joy for him.  

“You missed one thing—you also need to mind your sleep schedule. Time for bed.” With that, Wen Li turned to leave. Sleeping together was unavoidable, but she had no idea how to face it.  

Still, there was one silver lining: he was still in recovery, meaning no strenuous activity.  

After showering, they lay on opposite sides of the bed—so large that it felt like a divide ran down the middle. Shen An wanted to turn over but feared startling her.  

Wen Li lay rigidly, appearing asleep but with her heart pounding. After all, she was sharing a bed with a man—her legally wedded husband, no less. Staying calm was impossible.  

“You can breathe while sleeping.”  

Shen An’s reminder carried an undertone of barely suppressed amusement.  

“Hah—” Wen Li exhaled sharply, then snapped, “How did you know I wasn’t asleep?”  

“You were practically holding your breath.” After teasing her, he paused, then asked more seriously, “Are you afraid of me?”  

Wen Li mumbled, “No.”

It was just awkward, and she had no idea how long this awkward phase would last.

“Blame me?” Shen An asked, his heart filled with unease. From the moment they met, she had always kept a certain distance from him.

“No.”

What was there to blame him for? It was the Wen family who had forced her into this marriage, not Shen An. She could tell the difference. There had been no emotional foundation between them when they married. The reason she married him was for the Luck-bringing marriage, something she had known before the wedding. As for his surgery abroad, he had no obligation to inform her.

“Let’s sleep. You have work tomorrow. I sleep very soundly.” He wouldn’t cross any boundaries.

Shen An’s words seemed to put her at ease. Before long, Wen Li’s steady breathing could be heard.

Only when he was certain she was asleep did Shen An dare to turn gently toward her, gazing at her face in the moonlight that filtered through the window.