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Jiang Huaiyu was running around like a headless chicken, working overtime at the office over the weekend, leaving two girls to sleep in until noon at home.
The curtains blocked the glaring sunlight, and Shen Ruoying groggily woke up, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, trying to remember where she was.
Rubbing her aching head, she called out, “Shuyu, my head hurts so much.”
“You mixed different types of alcohol together, genius,” Wen Shuyu replied lazily from her cozy spot in bed, unwilling to get up.
She didn’t have much experience taking care of others and couldn’t recall the last time she had prepared hangover tea for Shen Ruoying. Jiang Huaiyu usually did that for her. Having grown accustomed to being cared for, it was hard for her to think from someone else’s perspective.
Last night, Jiang Huaiyu had told her there was no “what if,” and instinctively, she had shot back at him, insisting that she had no desire to be Mrs. Jiang. She knew her sharp tongue could easily get under Jiang Huaiyu’s skin.
Wen Shuyu nudged Shen Ruoying. “Do you remember what you said to Jiang Huaiyu last night?”
Shen Ruoying was full of questions. “I don’t remember. What did I say?”
She wasn’t even that familiar with what she could say to Jiang Huaiyu. It seemed she really had been rambling. Wen Shuyu thought to herself that after all these years, Shen Ruoying’s gossip was probably more hearsay than fact.
And yet, she had taken the drunken ramblings seriously.
Wen Shuyu pulled back the covers. “It’s nothing. Meng Xinhao called you yesterday, and I picked up.”
Shen Ruoying replied with an uninterested “Oh,” still not ready to head back home.
Outside, the weather was lovely; the sun hung high in the sky, and the heat lingered. In the vast house, it was just the two of them.
“Where’s your husband?” Shen Ruoying asked as she tore into a piece of bread, noting the stillness in the house.
Wen Shuyu answered, “He went to work overtime.”
As she drifted into sleep, Jiang Huaiyu’s check-in message popped up on her WeChat.
Shen Ruoying rummaged through the fridge for a drink and spotted a sticky note. Picking it up, she began reading it aloud dramatically.
“Yuyu, the food is ready and in the fridge. Just microwave it for four minutes on medium-high. Be careful; it’s hot! There are gloves nearby, and try not to eat too many popsicles.”
It was signed, “Xu.”
Though the note didn’t use terms like “husband” or “wife,” Shen Ruoying got goosebumps. “Did you marry a perfect gentleman or something?”
What kind of guy was so considerate? It was almost unbelievable.
In comparison, Meng Xinhao seemed like a total disaster—there was no comparison at all, really.
“Isn’t that how all guys are?” Wen Shuyu shrugged. Her dad was the same way. He was a bit of a chauvinist but also quite attentive, so she had grown used to it.
Shen Ruoying perked up. “Sister, if a man doesn’t cheat, doesn’t smoke, and has decent values, that already makes him a good man. And Jiang Huaiyu is even better than that!”
“Are you feeling a little flutter in your heart?” She gazed at Wen Shuyu with a mischievous smile, eagerly awaiting her response.
Wen Shuyu replied casually, but when Jiang Huaiyu hugged her, her body froze, and her heart raced faster than ever before. It was as if she were a fish freshly pulled from the water, flopping around.
Shen Ruoying, annoyed that her friend was being such a blockhead, patted her shoulder and feigned maturity. “Some people just can’t see clearly when they’re too close to the situation.”
Wen Shuyu rolled her eyes. “And what about you? Aren’t you going home?”
Shen Ruoying grabbed a bottle of Sprite. “I’m not going back until he apologizes to me.”
Wen Shuyu stirred some jam with a spoon. “When you guys fight, does he always have to comfort you?”
“Pretty much. I throw him a bone sometimes,” Shen Ruoying said, cracking open a can. “What about you and Jiang Huaiyu? Did you two argue?”
“Not really, just some banter,” she shrugged. They had been bickering since childhood; she never made the first move to reconcile. Jiang Huaiyu always came looking for her.
What was she supposed to think? Adult conversations?
“Yuyu is the younger sister; you have to give in to her. Yuyu is a girl; you’re a guy; you should protect her.”
It was a jumbled relationship dynamic, one that required a shift in how they interacted.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of orange and yellow, Jiang Huaiyu bought a matcha ice cream and ran into Meng Xinhao in the parking lot.
Dressed flamboyantly, Meng Xinhao was clutching a stunning bouquet of bright yellow roses.
Upon spotting Jiang Huaiyu, he looked as if he’d found a lifeline. “Open the door, Jiang Huaiyu! I rang your doorbell, and no one answered!”
He wasn’t one to mince words with Jiang Huaiyu. The four of them lived in the same villa area, went to the same high school, and while they weren’t close friends, they were certainly familiar.
“Here to apologize?” Jiang Huaiyu asked.
“Obviously,” Meng Xinhao replied, acting as if he owned the place. “Why is it always the men who have to lower their heads?”
It had taken him over 24 hours to come back, which made Jiang Huaiyu a bit worried. He replied coolly, “Men bow down in front of their wives, so what’s the big deal?”
He’d been doing it for over twenty years.
As the moon rose quietly into the deep blue sky, the house was filled with an eerie silence, not even a sound from the living or dining room.
But in the media room, music blared. Jiang Huaiyu pushed the door open to find the two girls singing their hearts out, completely oblivious to his presence.
The melancholic melody filled his ears: “Good or bad, we made our choices; here we are. Even if it’s hard to let go, what can we do? We promised not to blame each other in this moment.”
Hearing Wen Shuyu sing those lyrics stirred something in Jiang Huaiyu; it felt as if she was singing for someone else.
Meng Xinhao strode straight over to Shen Ruoying. “Babe, I was wrong. Come home with me.”
He thrust the flowers into her arms.
The two girls stopped singing, and Shen Ruoying, seated on the sofa, remained unmoved.
Wen Shuyu tugged at Jiang Huaiyu, pulling him away from the media room. “They’re not going to start fighting, are they?”
She leaned against the door, trying to hear what was happening inside, but all was silent.
Shen Ruoying and Meng Xinhao were childhood sweethearts; they had been together since high school, breaking up and getting back together before finally tying the knot.
Wen Shuyu had seen Shen Ruoying in action; she wasn’t afraid to throw punches.
“I have no idea,” Jiang Huaiyu said, uninterested in the drama of others when his own feelings were a mess.
Wen Shuyu waved her hand dismissively. “Asking you is pointless.”
She focused intently on the sounds coming from inside, wondering if a fight had broken out.
Jiang Huaiyu pulled her toward the bar. “I got you some ice cream. If you don’t eat it soon, it’ll melt.”
He placed a green ice cream cone in front of her, and she felt like a child being pampered.
Wen Shuyu took a scoop, her eyes sparkling with delight. “It’s not too sweet, just right. It won’t get cloying.”
But when she took a second bite, suddenly, she felt a warm touch on her lips, a stark contrast to the cold ice cream.
By the time she realized what happened, Jiang Huaiyu had already pulled away, a smirk playing on his lips.
She’d been kissed again!
Jiang Huaiyu’s eyes crinkled with mischief as he licked his lips. “Really? I thought it was quite sweet.”
Just then, two figures snuck up, trying to open the door, but the more careful they were, the more things they bumped into.
Hearing the noise, Wen Shuyu turned to look at Shen Ruoying, who was blushing awkwardly. “You guys keep going; don’t mind us. We’re heading home.”
In the elevator, Shen Ruoying playfully smacked Meng Xinhao’s arm. “Did you see how Jiang Huaiyu kisses? It’s so smooth! So sweet! I can’t tell if it’s the ice cream or him that’s sweeter!”
She regretted not capturing the moment on camera; she wanted to share it with the whole world.
Back inside, with just the two of them left, Wen Shuyu felt too shy to meet Jiang Huaiyu’s gaze. People might think she was thick-skinned, but that wasn’t the case—she had never even held hands with Lu Yunheng.
After holding back for what felt like forever, she finally blurted out, “Jiang Huaiyu, you’re so annoying.”
Wen Shuyu took a huge bite of ice cream to cool herself down, as if she had just returned from being scorched by the sun, her face turning as red as a crab.
Jiang Huaiyu’s lips curved into a playful smile. “Oh, this is just the beginning; we’ve got a lifetime ahead of us!”
“Why do you keep bringing up a lifetime?” she grumbled.
Meanwhile, Shen Ruoying immediately shared the exclusive scoop in their group chat. [Anan, you wouldn’t believe the scene! It felt like we were watching a drama.]
Using her literary skills, she summarized the moment: “In the deep blue night, with the moon shining and stars scattered across the sky, a handsome tall man looked at the woman before him and couldn’t help but kiss her, lost in the moment.”
They kissed, oblivious to the onlookers behind them.
Shiyu An: “Oh dear, Yuyu’s going to be swept off her feet tonight—she’ll be left with nothing but fish bones!”
Shen Ruoying: “Yuyu doesn’t stand a chance. She’s just going to get knocked out!”
Wen Shuyu saw their messages after finishing her meal and couldn’t help but admire Shen Ruoying’s storytelling skills. “Don’t believe the rumors; don’t spread them.”
What started as a light kiss turned into something deeper in her memories.
The real troublemaker? Jiang Huaiyu, who kissed her without her consent.
Shen Ruoying: “Yuyu, just go for it. Sleeping with him won’t hurt you.”
Wen Shuyu: “……No way.”
After finishing her wash-up in the bathroom and applying lotion, Wen Shuyu climbed into bed in her strapless nightgown—just the way she liked it, a little snug yet comfortable.
She wasn’t worried about Jiang Huaiyu making any advances; the only time he crossed a line was that one incident in the bathroom.
He didn’t force her, nor did he sweet-talk her into agreeing; at most, he just called her “wife” a few times.
From time to time, she stole glances at Jiang Huaiyu, taking in his silhouette. He was leaning against the headboard, engrossed in replying to messages, his side profile striking—sharp jawline, eyelashes delicately lowered, the smooth curve of his neck, and his Adam’s apple subtly moving—he was both elegant and captivating.
Previously, she hadn’t focused on him much, perhaps she had simply seen too much.
Suddenly, their eyes met. His gaze was deep and mysterious, unblinking, half-closed with a hint of a smile.
Wen Shuyu quickly turned her head, trying to hide her racing heart as if it had been an accidental encounter.
Jiang Huaiyu put down his phone. “If you want to look, then look. It won’t cost you anything.”
Wen Shuyu tugged at the blanket, trying to maintain her composure. “How narcissistic. I wasn’t even looking; I was just going to sleep.”
Her denial felt as obvious as a flash of silver.
The next morning, Wen Shuyu woke up, rolled over, and found the other side of the bed empty and cool. Sure enough, her phone buzzed with messages.
As she pulled open the curtains, the sun was hidden behind clouds, and the temperature was much cooler than the scorching days before.
Today, with no interruptions, she decided to take a trip to the countryside to a temple to pray for blessings.
At the end of the universe lies mysticism.
After searching for several temples on the map, she finally settled on Baima Temple.
This was the place where they would select auspicious dates.
Baima Temple was nestled halfway up the mountain, cooler than the foot of the hill, making it one of the few summer retreats in the southern city.
The incense burned brightly, with a steady flow of people during the summer, including many young visitors.
Wen Shuyu wrote her wishes in the prayer book: health and happiness for her family.
And for Jiang Huaiyu? She wished he wouldn’t get hurt anymore and that no one else would suffer because of her.
As for her and Jiang Huaiyu… she wasn’t sure how to put that into words.
Walking east from the main courtyard, she found a hundred-year-old ginkgo tree, its light filtering through the leaves, and the low-hanging branches were adorned with prayer plaques.
As the wind rustled through, a gentle jingling sound echoed.
On a secluded branch, she indeed spotted an old, weathered prayer plaque—dirty and worn, marked by years of wind and rain, with its tassels tangled together below.
Rummaging through her bag, Wen Shuyu found a pair of nail clippers, tiptoed, and snipped the string that hung from the top.
She tucked it directly into her bag without looking; she roughly remembered what it said.
After buying two new prayer plaques, Wen Shuyu couldn’t help but chuckle at herself, feeling a bit greedy.
One was for her family.
The other? For her and Jiang Huaiyu.
Satisfied with her tasks, Wen Shuyu drove back down the mountain.
Though the mountain roads weren’t as rugged as those in the southwestern region, it was still a challenge for someone used to city life, so she drove at a cautious 30 mph.
The sun was completely shrouded by clouds, dark clouds replacing the white ones, and the mountain weather was notoriously unpredictable. Suddenly, heavy rain poured down.
Before long, it was as if the sky itself was dumping water on her, and the windshield wipers struggled to keep up. The downpour created a misty blur, and Wen Shuyu decided to pull over.
By evening, the rain began to ease, but falling rocks obstructed the road, and darkness fell early in the mountains. Hearing a soft “woo-woo” sound outside her car, Wen Shuyu instinctively hugged her arms.
She couldn’t get out to assess the situation, nor did she dare to. Starting the car again, she attempted to drive away, but the engine stalled and wouldn’t start again.
After calling a towing company, she hesitated to call her dad. Suddenly, Jiang Huaiyu’s words flashed through her mind.
“Can you rely on me a little?”
And the way he looked so helpless that day.
Wen Shuyu’s hand, which was about to dial her dad, stopped. Instead, she dialed Jiang Huaiyu’s number. After two quick rings, it connected.
“Hey, Yuyu.”
His soothing voice on the other end calmed her racing heart.
“Jiang Huaiyu, my car broke down on the mountain road from Baima Temple to the city.”
Her phone battery was at 5%, and the signal was weak, but she hurriedly explained her location.
“Wait for me. Don’t open the windows or doors for anyone,” Jiang Huaiyu instructed, and before she could respond, the phone went dead.
Not bothering about anything else, he grabbed his keys and rushed to the underground parking lot. The city was sunny and clear, with smooth roads ahead.
Time felt stretched to infinity as Wen Shuyu reassured herself that Jiang Huaiyu would be there soon; he would find her.
In the mountains, darkness enveloped her car, rain pelted against the glass, and the sound of falling rocks echoed ominously. The fear became palpable.
Leaning on the steering wheel, she rubbed her hands together, losing track of time—maybe an hour, maybe two—when suddenly, a bright light pierced through the darkness.
She opened her eyes, the light transitioning from dark to bright, revealing a tall, familiar figure. Although she couldn’t clearly see his face, she recognized his stride instantly; it was Jiang Huaiyu.
He rushed to her car and knocked on the window. “Yuyu, open the door; it’s me.”
Wen Shuyu hurriedly unlocked the door and flung herself into his arms, choking back tears. “You scared me! A wild boar came by earlier!”
The steep slope was perilously close, and she had thought she would never see Jiang Huaiyu again.
The wild boar had been fierce and terrifying, snorting ominously. Fortunately, it turned at the last moment.
Jiang Huaiyu patted her back, his hand trembling as he tried to stay calm. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
“We should head back first.”
Still shaken from the scare, Wen Shuyu said softly, “Husband, I want you to hold me.”
Jiang Huaiyu’s arm slid beneath her knees as he bent down and effortlessly scooped her up.
Wen Shuyu instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her cheek against him, playfully pinching the soft flesh at his nape.
He froze for a moment, surprised. It was the first time she had taken the initiative to hug him, and his voice came out a bit awkward. “Wha—what’s wrong?”
Wen Shuyu explained, “This way, you’ll feel more at ease.”
He opened the passenger door and carefully set her down in the seat, wiping away her tears. “Still such a crybaby.”
“I am not! I just had something in my eye,” she pouted in protest.
Jiang Huaiyu smiled slightly. “Okay, Yuyu isn’t a crybaby.”
He then asked, “So, why did you come to the mountains?”
“To make a wish. I don’t want you to get hurt anymore.”
Under the glow of the car’s interior light, Jiang Huaiyu noticed the way her butterfly-like eyelashes framed her bright eyes as she spoke those warm words.
He pulled her closer, murmuring, “You won’t get hurt again; you can’t. Next time, I’ll come with you.”
On the way there, he had seen a car hit by falling rocks and downed branches, which had scared him. He had been careful to stay within the speed limit the entire journey.
Wen Shuyu nodded, “Okay, I won’t be reckless either.”
“Are you hungry? Let’s go eat first,” Jiang Huaiyu suggested.
Wen Shuyu tugged at his sleeve. “I want to eat what you cook. You make the best food.”
Today, she was acting completely out of character—asking to be held and craving his cooking. Jiang Huaiyu felt a warmth spreading inside him from the long-awaited affection.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?” Wen Shuyu asked, feeling a bit anxious under his intense gaze.
He suppressed his emotions, replying, “Nope, just going home to cook for my wife.”
When they arrived at Qinhayuan, Jiang Huaiyu picked up her bag, noticing the clasp wasn’t fastened tightly. Suddenly, a red prayer plaque tumbled out. Recognizing the handwriting instantly, he realized it belonged to Wen Shuyu.
In the dim light, he wondered whether to thank the waterproof marker, as he could barely make out the words written on it.
She went to pray, but who was it for, really?