Jiang Zhonglin returned to the room after disengaging from several friends and found Yu Yao already lying in bed with the blanket covering her face, seemingly asleep, with only a bit of black hair visible. Jiang Zhonglin couldn’t help but lower his voice. He turned off the light, sat on his own bed, and looked at Yu Yao’s side profile.

After watching quietly in the dark for a while, he took off his coat and lifted the blanket to lie down.

But soon after, the blanket on Yu Yao’s bed was lifted, and she, with her hair disheveled, sat up and walked to Jiang Zhonglin’s bedside. She pulled back his blanket and lay down next to him, startling Jiang Zhonglin, who was not fully asleep yet. He immediately woke up and turned on a bedside lamp.

Under the warm, dim orange light, he saw his wife’s head resting on his chest. She was motionless, silent, and clinging to his neck.

Jiang Zhonglin looked at the top of her head, feeling both amused and embarrassed. He didn’t know what was wrong with Yu Yao, so he gently asked, “What’s wrong?”

Yu Yao didn’t answer, seeming to be on the verge of sleep. But Jiang Zhonglin couldn’t sleep. He was being held, so he raised one hand and gently patted Yu Yao’s back, like soothing a child. “Are you feeling unwell?”

Soon, Jiang Zhonglin felt the fabric of his shirt on his chest getting wet. He was even more startled now and reached out to feel Yu Yao’s forehead, nervously asking, “Why are you crying? What happened? Did someone say something to you?”

Yu Yao didn’t respond, and her crying only grew louder.

Jiang Zhonglin had mostly seen Yu Yao smiling, but this time she had already cried several times, and this outburst came without warning. Her crying while clinging to him made him extremely anxious.

The old man was at a loss. He sighed for a long time, and every time he moved, Yu Yao cried even louder. He could only pat her back in a futile attempt to comfort her. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s nothing.”

Yu Yao cried loudly, and perhaps because of the noise, someone in the neighboring room heard it. Before long, someone came to knock on the door. Yu Yao quietly buried herself under the blanket, and Jiang Zhonglin hurried to open the door. The friend outside, tactfully, said, “If there’s something, you two should talk it out. Don’t argue. Lao Jiang, you should be a bit more accommodating to your wife.”

Jiang Zhonglin felt quite wronged but didn’t have the intention to protest. He nodded in agreement. After the door was closed, he sat on the edge of the bed, took a tissue, and tried to lift the blanket.

Yu Yao held onto the blanket, not letting him lift it.

Jiang Zhonglin said, “Don’t use the blanket to wipe your face.”

Yu Yao pulled the blanket away sharply, her voice a bit hoarse, “Who said I was using the blanket?”

Jiang Zhonglin smiled and took the opportunity to wipe her face.

After examining her for a moment, Jiang Zhonglin asked, “Did someone say something to you?”

Yu Yao replied, “Yes.”

Jiang Zhonglin asked, “Are you mad at me?”

Yu Yao said, “If I were mad at you, I would make you cry, not cry while holding you.”

Hearing this, Jiang Zhonglin felt like laughing but worried that if he laughed, Yu Yao might get truly upset, so he held back. He asked gently, “Do you still want to cry?”

Yu Yao didn’t respond.

Jiang Zhonglin understood, “Then if you’re not crying anymore, we should go to sleep?”

Yu Yao watched as Jiang Zhonglin walked to her bed and took the blanket from it.

Looking at Yu Yao, he said, “One blanket is too small, it might not cover us.”

Yu Yao relaxed her fingers. Good, it wasn’t over yet. There was still hope.

Yu Yao lay down, watching Jiang Zhonglin arrange the blanket and settle next to her.

“I turned off the light?”

“Hmm.”

With the light gone, Yu Yao rested her head on Jiang Zhonglin’s shoulder. She felt her heart, which had been unsettled after hearing Grandma Cao’s words, finally calm down. But just then, she felt Jiang Zhonglin’s body tremble, then tremble again. She asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

She heard Jiang Zhonglin’s laughter.

Yu Yao asked, “……What are you laughing at?”

Jiang Zhonglin had been so anxious and heartbroken seeing his wife cry earlier, but now, thinking about her rare expression when he pulled back the blanket made him laugh, and he couldn’t stop.

Yu Yao said, “Are you about done? What exactly are you laughing at? Are you laughing at me?”

Jiang Zhonglin struggled to suppress his laughter and, with a sense of survival, replied, “I’m not laughing at you.”