“I sent her home last night; it’s cramped here, and she had nowhere to sit.” Here is the
Jia Yi used a tissue to wipe her mouth, then lowered his head to scoop the remaining porridge from the bottom of the bowl into one spoonful and fed it to her. “Did I look really disheveled yesterday? Was it embarrassing?” Lai Hui asked quietly. Jia Yi’s hand paused while holding the spoon, remembering how she kept calling out “Yu Qian! Yu Qian!” when he held her last night, which made his heart ache with pain. He quickly turned aside to place the porridge bowl on the table, then smiled and ruffled her hair, saying, “Silly, I’ve seen you in all sorts of embarrassing states when you were sick before, why would I mind this?” “True, but when you used to get drunk, you looked pretty bad too, sometimes vomiting right on the street with everyone watching, even I felt embarrassed for you,” Lai Hui said with a laugh. “Back then, my tolerance for alcohol was poor, but I won’t embarrass myself like that now,” Jia Yi said, straightening her hair, then placing his hand on her shoulder, looking at her intently for a moment before saying, “I’ve taken leave for you, rest well, don’t get sick again, I felt so pained seeing you like that last night!” Upon hearing this, Lai Hui lowered her head, her nose inexplicably sour, tears welling up in her eyes, then she was pulled into Jia Yi’s embrace, tears falling onto the quilt. Jia Yi rested his chin on her head, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger, and after a moment, he whispered, “Remember when you had stomach problems? From now on, I’ll take care of you, okay?” He didn’t hear a response, just felt her sobs intensify, so he patted her back and continued, “I won’t let you get sick again, and if you do, I’ll be the first to notice and take you to the hospital to minimize your pain.” He sighed, knowing there wouldn’t be an immediate response, just kept patting her back, the unsaid words stuck in his throat—Why wasn’t I the first person you thought of when you were in pain or upset?
The news had been bustling these past few days; hot topics from across the sea were freshly delivered, and domestic headlines about him were everywhere, yet the man himself had gone silent. The media only managed to catch the last bit of possibly true or false information—that he might get engaged this year. Some accused the media of fabricating stories, competitors used this to attack Zhou Yuqian’s character with references to his past marriage, while the public generally disliked such news, preferring to curse first and ask questions later. Zhou Yuqian’s reputation was tarnished, but regardless of how bad it got, a few days later, this wave of gossip passed like a monsoon, leaving no trace. Newspapers and media had completely censored the news, leaving a mystery for everyone to speculate on. However, after a few more days, someone in the business world claiming to be an “insider” came forward with information, revealing that the person with Zhou Yuqian was the daughter of Shengshi Group, who rarely appeared in the media, hence only a few insiders knew her identity. The media, once calmed, was stirred up again. Those who had previously attacked him now hid, knowing that if Shengshi and the Zhou family businesses were to form an alliance, Zhou Yuqian’s enterprises would be untouchable, and they might even offend both families. For self-preservation, some had already started to clarify their previous statements. Thus, this gossip news, due to Shengshi’s background, began to be enjoyed by many, with business and financial newspapers starting to analyze the future prospects of the two families’ union. The only person truly hurt by this news was Lai Hui, who had completely lost hope. Even if she was willing to be his secret, he no longer cared. From then on, he would remain in his high world, while she, as a small employee, had to guard against being recognized by those who knew her past. Over these days, she often heard the echo of his angry roar from the day she left Nanling: “Even if I said I love you, even if I said I wanted to marry you, you’d still leave, wouldn’t you? There’s only one chance, and if you miss it, it’s gone.” She wondered if he had just said it out of anger that day, or if she had misheard. Then, she pulled out a note locked in her diary, clearly in his handwriting, stating he would always be in Nanling. But now he was going to marry someone else, and she lacked the courage to ask about it, considering the other’s background was that of a prestigious family, while her roots were in a small county, her only family, farmers. Such a disparity, asking would only be self-humiliation. So, she could only block her ears, close her eyes, or pretend she was dead, but her heart still ached.
When the news about him completely cooled down, a month had almost passed, and she forced herself to act normal, going to work and doing her job, though occasionally making mistakes, which Jia Yi smoothly covered for her. During this time, Jia Yi was with her almost every day. When she didn’t speak, he kept silent too, not to disturb her; when she looked pale with sorrow, he would quickly hold her hand; when her mood was normal, he would drive her to the seaside or the mountains. This time, he brought her to a new house by the lake. Lai Hui, preoccupied with Zhou Yuqian, had forgotten she had once received keys from Jia Yi here, and had completely forgotten about this house, let alone decorating it. So, when Jia Yi brought her here again, she felt very guilty, thinking she was too selfish, and decided to return the keys to him, no matter what. Upon entering the courtyard, she stood still, the small building transformed, with new coffee-colored wall tiles, a sharp triangular roof, a protruding small balcony, all in a classic European style. The front yard was now lawned, tall palm trees lined the walls, and a short stone-paved path led directly to the front door. The interior decoration resembled that of a northern villa, with a redwood lattice screen at the entrance, solid red wooden floors, and warm reddish-brown sofas, creating a cozy atmosphere. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she was surprised to see a vegetable garden in the backyard, with loofah seedlings climbing up bamboo poles, and young bamboo planted at the wall corners, not yet tall, with leaves a tender green. There was also a wooden trellis for what appeared to be grapevines. “When did you do all this?” she turned to ask Jia Yi. “Just this month, I figured you wouldn’t come to decorate,” Jia Yi stood behind her, smiling, his gaze intense. “I’m sorry, I was supposed to let you decorate, but I didn’t want to wait anymore!” Lai Hui avoided his gaze, turned around, and sat on the sofa, saying, “Jia Yi, don’t say that, this house was bought by you anyway!—” “Wrong, I bought it for you, and it’s where we’ll live in the future!” he interrupted, squatting in front of the sofa, and continued, “Lai Hui, remember what you said here that day?”
“If I’m willing to wait for you these few months, you’ll wait for me to come home every day for the rest of your life.” Lai Hui was taken aback; she remembered, but only after he mentioned it. Her mother had passed away, she had broken up with Yu Qian, and she hadn’t noticed all that Jia Yi had done for her. Yu Qian was going to marry someone else, he didn’t want her anymore. Was she supposed to use Jia Yi’s love to let him take her back? That would be too unfair to him, although she had once considered it. At that moment, she felt disgusted with herself, feeling completely unworthy of Jia Yi. She clasped her hands together, her face turning red as she said, “Jia Yi, you deserve better. I’ve been with someone else before; people will gossip about you, and besides, you would care about my past—”