He ruffled my hair, his eyes full of affection.
“Laugh away, laugh as long as you want.” He draped his sweater over me, wrapping me in warmth. Hugging my shoulders, he opened the car door for me, then stuffed my rain-soaked bicycle into the trunk. I pulled the sweater tightly around me, laughing sweetly.
Often, the fewer material things a woman asks for, the more warmth she receives from a man.
Ye Zhengchen often said, “Kiddo, I’ve never given you anything.”
Actually, he had given me a lot. Every rainy day, the fallen raindrops were infused with warmth; every tear held memories of shattered sweetness.
If I could choose again, I would have Ye Zhengchen exchange these warmths for a Mercedes sports car to support my parents.
At the time, I was foolish, pursuing a love like an oak tree in Shu Ting’s writings, believing that loving him meant not clinging to his grandeur and not showing off through his brilliance.
I believed loving him meant being two trees, roots tightly intertwined, leaves touching in the clouds.
Since we got together, Ye Zhengchen became busier by the day.
Initially, he was invisible during the day—in the research lab, the hospital ward, and at home. He would return late at night, slip into my bed for passionate moments, and then fall asleep holding me. Later, he would be gone for several consecutive days, sometimes claiming he was going to Kyoto for publication, Tokyo for a conference, or Kyushu for investigation. Other PhDs were in the lab, but he seemed the busiest, even more so than Professor Tanaka.
A week ago, he went to Nagoya. I called several times, but his phone was off. After two days of silence, I decided to turn off my phone and lie in bed with my laptop, initiating our first-ever cold war.
Around eleven at night, feeling hungry, I got up to boil water for coffee. Just as I prepared to drink, the lights suddenly went out. The room plunged into darkness, and before I could adjust, I felt a cold air current and someone hugged me from behind. “Ah!” I hadn’t even had time to cry for help before my mouth was covered.
Never having encountered such a situation, I was terrified; my body went limp, my brain blank, and all senses lost. I could only struggle instinctively in the pitch black. The person’s immense strength lifted me and threw me onto the bed. Before I could recover, he pressed down on me, tearing open my nightgown. A chilling cold spread from my exposed skin, leaving me so frightened that I couldn’t scream.
His cold palms covered my skin, and wild lips pressed against mine. The familiar taste and breath jolted me back to reality.
This annoying man had scared me like this after not answering his phone.
I angrily punched his chest twice, then hugged him tightly, kissing him back until we were almost out of breath. “You actually came back? I thought you were enjoying yourself in another woman’s arms!”
“You haven’t paid off the tutoring fees you owe me. How could I forget?”
His lips slid downward, kissing my chest, and a hot current swept through me. I almost lost control.
“Miss me?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yes, but…” I caught his hand that was tearing at my clothes in the darkness. “Not today… my period came.”
“Period? What period?”
He didn’t react for a moment, his large hand exploring downward, reaching into my inner thigh. When he felt the thick sanitary pad, his hand froze.
He finally understood, withdrawing his hand and looking helplessly at our “guest.” “Wasn’t it supposed to be in a few days?”
“It’s not always exactly on schedule. It came two days early.”
He let me go, sighing. “I’ll go take a shower.”
After Ye Zhengchen finished showering, I had already removed the nightgown he’d torn and was lying in bed waiting for him.
He walked to the bedside, kissed my forehead, and said, “I’ll sleep in my own place tonight.”
“Don’t go.” I grabbed his hand, looking pitiful. “I missed you…”
He sighed deeply, lifted the blanket, and lay down. I immediately burrowed into his arms, letting his unique scent protect me. Some things, once tried, become addictive and hard to quit.
I idly drew circles on his chest. “Shixiong, what have you been busy with lately?”
“Things have been a bit special recently; it’ll be fine after this busy period,” he answered vaguely.
He didn’t want to say, and I didn’t want to ask. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against him, fitting my curves with his. Pressing close, his hand reached for my chest, and then his lips came over.
Ten minutes later, we sat up, calming our breathing. He got out of bed again.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Taking a shower.”
“I wiped the wetness on my chest; the early summer night was sultry. I can’t remember how many times he returned from showering, sitting at the far end of the bed: ‘How are your bacteria doing?’
‘Don’t mention it, they died again. I’ve never seen bacteria so hard to cultivate.’
‘What kind of bacteria?’
‘The associate professor said it’s a newly developed bacteria that suppresses cancer cells.’ I had simulated all living environments but still couldn’t keep them alive.
‘Show me your experimental records.’
I climbed down from the bed to get the computer, carefully explaining my experimental process to him.
In the sleepless night, we sat on the bed discussing academic issues. The sky brightened, morning light hazy. I curled up in his arms and fell asleep.
When I woke up, he was looking at me, his bright eyes filled with doting and attachment.
The next afternoon, I was working at a convenience store. Ye Zhengchen sent a message saying he had something to do and wouldn’t pick me up that day. I was used to this and put away my phone.
At that moment, a female customer entered the store. From the instant she stepped in, I felt my eyes light up, forgetting the professional ‘Welcome’ as my gaze followed her pure and bright face.”
She had an extraordinary appearance, tall and graceful, with an ethereal temperament. Her innate elegance would make anyone sigh in admiration, showcasing her distinguished background, even without wearing a Chanel dress.
As I wondered why such a noble lady would come to our small convenience store, she casually selected some food items, including several cans of Asahi coffee-flavored beer, and walked to the counter. I bowed and said, “Hello, welcome. I’m happy to serve you.” She smiled and nodded, omitting the typical Japanese female courtesy.
When she pointed at the name on my chest, she asked, “Bo? Your last name is Bo?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I’m Chinese.” Her smile was warm and inviting.
“Me too!” she exclaimed, her voice smooth with a standard Mandarin tone.
I wasn’t surprised and rang up her items. “Did you make this?” she asked, pointing at the fried chicken bento in the glass case.
“Yes, just made,” I replied. “Would you like one?”
She considered for a moment and said, “Two, please.” I selected the two freshest ones and placed them in a bag. “Thank you, 6,100 yen.”
She opened her Hermès bag and looked inside, her gaze dimming slightly. “Sorry, I forgot my wallet.” “No problem!” I handed her the items. “You can pay next time.” “But…” “Don’t keep your boyfriend waiting too long,” I smiled and nodded at her. She seemed stunned, then lowered her eyes and smiled: “Thank you! I’ll bring it later.” “No rush.” I was certain she would return. After she left, her faint fragrance lingered, my favorite perfume J’adore.
An hour later, she returned, opening her Gucci wallet to pull out a bill from a thick stack of ten-thousand-yen notes. “Keep the change.” Her tone reminded me of Ye Zhengchen’s. I directly put the change I’d just counted into the tip jar, following store rules that required unclaimed change to be deposited there.
