Chapter 30

While Nian Qi was deeply contemplating the identity issue, his momentary distraction was quickly noticed by Ruan Qing, who insisted he watch car crash videos all night. The images followed him into his dreams, haunting him with scenes of what seemed like unbreakable steel shells crumpling like paper under high-speed impacts. He wasn’t fazed by the blood and gore, but the way steel crumpled like paper left a deep impression on him. Although he always understood that greater speed meant greater force, nothing in the ancient world matched the speed of a modern car. Seeing these videos gave him a new appreciation for the massive changes that technological advancements brought to the world.

The next day, he spent hours researching “car accidents” online, encountering countless devastating crash scenes. When he finally approached Ruan Qing, he said, “The key thing about this is that there’s almost no escape. Unless you keep the window open and don’t wear a seatbelt.”

“Other people might,” Ruan Qing replied, “but you shouldn’t try. Wearing a seatbelt is essential.”

“But then there’s no way out,” he countered. “If you leave me even the slightest chance, I could jump out in a flash. But if I’m wearing a seatbelt, no matter how quick my reflexes, I’m still trapped.”

After all of last night’s explanations, he came away with the conclusion that seatbelts were bad? Ruan Qing could feel her temples throbbing. “Oh, sure, sure. You’re absolutely right,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Noticing her expression, Nian Qi hesitated. “Did I… say something wrong?”

Massaging her aching forehead, she responded, “Is it possible that obeying traffic rules and following driving guidelines might actually be the safest option?”

“I can control myself, but I can’t control others,” he said seriously. “I watched those videos all day. Many of the fatalities involved people driving safely, who got hit by others driving recklessly or under the influence. They didn’t have a choice.” His gaze was focused, without a hint of humor. “In that split second between life and death, if the windows are up and I’m wearing a seatbelt, my life is entirely out of my control—it’s in fate’s hands.”

Seeing how serious he was, Ruan Qing was momentarily speechless. “Then… what’s the solution?” she asked eventually.

“Motorcycles,” he answered confidently. “For me, a two-wheeler is the safest option.”

“What?” Ruan Qing hadn’t expected this conclusion. “We call cars ‘metal wrapped around flesh,’ but motorcycles are ‘flesh wrapped around metal.’ Think about it.”

“But I’ve looked into it carefully. Most motorcyclists die not from the collision itself but from being thrown off and hitting the ground. Once they’re in the air, it’s out of their control.” Nian Qi’s confidence was unshakable. “I can, of course, land safely.”

This piqued Ruan Qing’s interest. It touched on something she’d been curious about for days but hadn’t had time to investigate. Rubbing her chin, she asked with interest, “So, in your world, what’s the level of martial arts, exactly? Are we talking mid-level, low-level?”

Nian Qi raised an eyebrow. “How do you measure that? Don’t you guys barely have any real martial artists here anymore?”

Ruan Qing snapped her fingers. “But we have novels! High-level martial arts are just fictional, but low-level martial arts are realistic. The jury’s out on mid-level.” She explained further: “Mid-level is represented by works like The Eight X of Heaven, while low-level would be something like The Tale of X Vengeance.”

She then pulled up some fight scene descriptions from these novels on her computer and showed them to Nian Qi.

Nian Qi read the passages with great interest. “Whoever wrote this really captured the spirit,” he remarked. When it came to answering Ruan Qing’s question, he rubbed his chin and said, “I’ve heard that there are masters in the martial arts world who can reach that level.” Pointing to The Tale of X Vengeance, he added, “Most people with a recognizable reputation could probably achieve that level.”

Ruan Qing was thrilled. “So, low-level martial arts would be the norm, and top-tier fighters could reach mid-level skills?”

Seeing her eyes sparkle, Nian Qi’s curiosity was piqued, and he asked, “Why are you so interested in this?”

If it had been their first few days together, Ruan Qing might have hidden her inner “martial arts fan” a little better. But after a week of cohabitation—lounging around in big T-shirts, flip-flops, sharing meals at the same table, and even using the same brand of body wash—she felt comfortable enough to show her true self.

“I’ve always dreamed of martial arts,” she sighed. “People often say martial arts fantasies are for guys, but that’s just gender stereotyping! Tons of girls had these dreams when we were kids. I devoured almost every famous martial arts novel, TV show, and movie that came out.”

“But now, martial arts are dead. They’re nowhere—no more novels, no more good fight scenes on TV. All we get are idol actors in fancy costumes twirling around in slow motion with flowing sleeves. It’s painfully bad!” She fumed, “Makes you want to give the director a piece of your mind!”

Got it, thought Nian Qi. Mentally, he jotted down a note: She likes people who can do martial arts. This was great news. He just so happened to know martial arts—and wasn’t half bad at it either. He had some fame in the martial arts world and had even made it onto the hitman rankings. A few prominent clients would specifically request him for their “jobs,” with some repeat clients among the wealthy elite.

“So, what about you?” Ruan Qing’s eyes were bright with anticipation as she looked at him, head slightly tilted.

This was no time to hold back. Nian Qi straightened up a bit and said modestly, “Not much, just a little reputation in the martial arts world.” But he had picked up from TV that modern people weren’t as reserved as those in ancient times, so he quickly added, “Last year, I ranked a modest sixth on the Top Ten Hitmen List.”

Saying “just a modest sixth,” he puffed his chest slightly, his eyes gleaming.

Ruan Qing’s expression changed, hands on her hips. “And you’re proud of it, aren’t you?”

“Look, I get that you had to make a living, but it’s nothing to be proud of! Three words for you—”

Nian Qi quickly grabbed her finger before she could go on, laughing, “I know, I know! Follow the law!”

He realized that even this casual touch was technically crossing a line, a boundary of intimacy that was not meant to be breached.

But Nian Qi had already decided he wanted to marry Ruan Qing. After a week of living together, where they saw each other constantly and frequently caught glimpses of each other’s bare arms and legs, he felt an increasing sense of intimacy.

Ruan Qing’s long, pale legs, as white as snow, were always visible, and he himself wore little more than a few scraps of fabric. In his own era, even between married couples, it would have been unthinkable to dress so casually outside the bedchamber. Though he knew that in modern times, such attire was perfectly normal, living so “coolly” alongside Ruan Qing every day made him feel much closer to her, sometimes unconsciously crossing boundaries he shouldn’t have.

His hand was large, with a warm, firm grip. To Ruan Qing, the touch of a single finger wasn’t exactly intimate contact, but the strength of his hand and the warmth of his palm radiated a certain energy, causing her to tense. She quickly pulled her finger back, worried that her secret attraction might be sensed by this ancient man, who might well judge her for it. She looked away, saying, “Good to know.”

In truth, Nian Qi regretted the touch as soon as he made it. Her hand was slender, delicate, reminding him starkly that this was a woman he was touching. How presumptuous of him, how improper. Just as Ruan Qing withdrew her hand, he released it, catching the brief hint of discomfort in her face. It only made him feel guiltier. He quickly diverted his gaze. “What do you feel like for dinner?”

Ruan Qing replied quickly, “Anything’s fine.”

“I’ll check on the soup,” he said, heading to the kitchen. “It’s been simmering all afternoon; it should be just about ready.”

“Ah, sounds good,” Ruan Qing responded, settling herself back on the couch with her phone. Yet every so often, she’d sneak a glance at the slightly ajar kitchen door.

Ancient people were still ancient people, she mused, recalling how he walked off just now, straight-faced and unswerving. Lucky she’d reined in her thoughts quickly; otherwise, he’d surely have seen through her. She cast another glance at the kitchen door. In peak health, with abundant energy, she was naturally in a high phase of her life.

Her career, her romantic life, and, well, her physical desires were all peaking right now. When she’d had her previous “boy toy,” even if they couldn’t connect intellectually, they’d at least been compatible in other ways.

Now, though, with a sudden “dry spell,” Ruan Qing was feeling unexpectedly restless. Seeing Nian Qi’s toned waist and long legs stirred something in her; she couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to “play along” with him, if just once. Meanwhile, the delicious aroma of the soup began to drift into the room.

Thinking back, she’d expected that “adopting” an ancient man would mean expending a lot of energy, almost like raising a child. Yet, after just a day and a night of caring for him, the situation had flipped entirely. Now she was the one enjoying hot meals and a spotless home every day, like having a perfect, attentive “spouse” around the house.

When Nian Qi opened the door and called, “Dinner’s ready,” carrying out steaming hot dishes, Ruan Qing felt a bit dazed. Life was too good. She sipped the savory soup and glanced at him as he drank his beer.

“Hey, let me tell you something…” Ruan Qing, itching with excitement, coaxed, “Your hair would look great if you tied only half of it up.”

Nian Qi asked, “Like in those historical dramas on TV?”

Ruan Qing nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, exactly!”

His expression turned a bit strange.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Nian Qi seemed to be holding something back. “Only carefree dandies and rogues would still wear their hair down as adults,” he said. Running a hand over his ponytail, he added, “Honestly, even this style feels a bit silly.”

It was roughly like an older man trying to look young. But since most men around here wore short buzz cuts, it didn’t look as out of place. If he wore a traditional topknot, people would probably glance twice, maybe even give a subtle laugh or puzzled look. He kept this childlike braid style just to blend in more easily.

Ruan Qing knew she couldn’t force a grown man to adopt a hairstyle just because she liked it. She sighed with regret, taking another sip of her soup, then pulled up a short video on her phone. “I saved this ages ago—it’s practically love at first sight every time I watch it.”

Nian Qi leaned over to watch. In the video, a tall, slender young man in a mask emerged from an open car door, lifted his head, and strode forward. His hair was tied halfway, with the rest left loose. The slow-motion effect highlighted the way his hair fell over his shoulders, accentuating his delicate features. His face was hidden by the mask, but the smooth movement was mesmerising.

To Nian Qi, this video was basically about hair flipping. It reminded him of the flashy young dandies back in his time, flicking their hair back with a fan to get a woman’s attention. Just incredibly vain.

He didn’t really approve of these types, but he’d learned that some women loved it. He raised an eyebrow and glanced from the phone to Ruan Qing’s face. As expected, she was transfixed, her eyes dreamy, a silly smile on her face as she kept muttering, “How can he look this good? How can he look this good?”

Nian Qi: “…”

Without saying more, he focused on eating. Once he finished, he got up, washed the dishes, and tidied the kitchen, while Ruan Qing continued scrolling on the couch. After a bit, she suddenly heard Nian Qi’s voice, “Like this?”

She turned and saw him with his hands in his pockets, looking slightly uneasy but with his long hair tied halfway up, the rest flowing over his shoulders. With his looks and build, he didn’t fall short of the guy in the video at all. In fact, Ruan Qing had seen that influencer without his mask, and in her opinion, Nian Qi was far more attractive.

In that moment, a greedy thought flickered in her mind: If he can’t resolve his identity issues, maybe he could just stay with me, cook meals, keep the place spotless… honestly, that wouldn’t be so bad.