It must be karma from a previous life.
It’s summer, and the sun is exceptionally hot.
I ride my bicycle to the supermarket, sweating profusely as I load up on pork ribs, beef, and various vegetables. I bustle about in the steamy kitchen.
The pot simmers on low heat as I stare at the rising steam and bubbles.
I don’t know my place in Ye Zhengchen’s heart. Seeing the man I love suffer and then confess sincerely moves me deeply. How could I tell him I don’t want to be with him?
Yet, emotional acceptance doesn’t equate to rational acceptance—his fiancée exists between us.
Previously, I was in the dark, but now I feel shame. How should I face Yu Yin, Ye Zhengchen’s fiancée?
The more you fear confronting something, the more likely you are to encounter it.
At noon, I bring the hot soup into the hospital room and run into Yu Yin.
It’s a mortifying moment. The three of us stand in the bright sunlight—he and Yu Yin are the engaged couple who have known each other for over a decade.
As I enter, Yu Yin sits by the hospital bed, smoothing her skirt hem with an elegant smile that hints at irony.
I wish I could disappear, but I walk to the table and place the soup down.
“Senior brother, drink the soup while it’s hot… I’ll come visit you another day.” I rush out without hesitation.
“Darling,” Ye Zhengchen calls me.
I turn back, giving him a stiff smile, then another for Yu Yin, my facial muscles numb.
“You two chat slowly; I won’t interrupt.”
After leaving, I close the door behind me.
Is this what being a mistress feels like?
Feeling depressed, I kick the hallway wall, pain shooting through my ankle. I hop and cry, thankful no one saw me.
Limping back to my apartment, the fragrance of pork ribs and winter melon soup lingers. I realize I haven’t eaten lunch, so I pour out the remaining soup, even chewing the bones, as the book says it’s good for calcium.
After finishing, I pull out the medicine box my dad prepared, find some red flower oil, sit on the bed, and massage my ankle.
While massaging, I curse Ye Zhengchen: why don’t you just die!
Just as I’m venting my frustration, my phone rings. The caller is none other than him.
Grinding my teeth in anger, I answer, “Hello.”
“The pork ribs soup was delicious. Will there be more tonight?”
“Yes, I’ll make soup with heartless radish and wolf heart.”
He laughs, and his clear laughter is pleasant, like a crisp stream.
“Want to come get some ingredients?”
“Your fiancée has left?”
“She’s gone and won’t come back.”
I’m speechless, lowering my head to massage the red flower oil on my ankle.
Seeing me silent, he apologizes: “Darling, I’m sorry. I promise this won’t happen again.”
“Mm.” I take a deep breath. His ability to send Yu Yin away doesn’t erase her existence; she will always be a knot in my relationship with Ye Zhengchen.
“Don’t you believe me?”
I shake my head. “I’ll bring dinner tonight.”
After hanging up, I continue massaging, my ankle burning hot.
In the evening, I cook beef and tomato soup and prepare dinner for two to take to the hospital. Before entering, I carefully look inside.
Ye Zhengchen is reading a professional textbook on the hospital bed, occasionally checking his watch. His mental state has improved since this morning, likely due to the pork ribs and winter melon soup. I check from every angle, confirming that Yu Yin is nowhere to be seen.
I pushed open the door and walked in, enduring the pain in my foot. As soon as Ye Zhengchen saw me, his face lit up.
I had just sat down when Ye Zhengchen leaned in and sniffed me, then looked me up and down, finally stopping on my swollen ankle. “Did you hurt your foot?”
I’m an idiot for forgetting that he’s a doctor. I shouldn’t have used red flower oil or worn a skirt.
I replied nonchalantly, “It’s just a sprained ankle.”
He shifted to the side, pulled back the blanket, and patted the empty spot. “Sit here, let me take a look.”
Seeing him in a patient’s gown but looking like a chief physician, I sat on the edge of his bed, took off my shoes, and placed my injured leg on his bed. He pressed the swollen area gently, causing a sharp pain that made my leg tremble.
He looked up at me, brow furrowed. “How did you get hurt?”
“I climbed onto the balcony this morning and accidentally sprained it.” I left out that I had also kicked a wall at noon.
He wrapped his palms around my ankle, and a warm current surrounded the throbbing pain.
Through his pale face and self-reproachful gaze, I could feel his care and love.
I believe his feelings for me are real. Even if this trust feels fragile, I continue to reinforce it.
“Don’t come tomorrow. Rest in the apartment. You can’t walk for at least three days or ride a bicycle for a month,” he said while massaging me.
“Then who will bring you food?”
He ruffled my hair, whispering, “Silly girl.”
I’d rather be a silly girl, guarding my happiness, knowing nothing.
He took my seagull watch from under the pillow and fastened it around my wrist.
I stared blankly at the moving watch hands, feeling an emptiness in my chest.
His hand cupped my face, and as his lips approached mine, Yu Yin’s figure flashed in my mind, causing heart-wrenching pain. I instinctively turned away.
“Are you still angry with me?” he asked.
I shook my head and silently got off his bed, feeding him soup spoonful by spoonful.
I’m probably not cut out to be a mistress. I won’t steal someone else’s happiness, deceive myself, or forget another innocent woman.
So, I can only torture myself and him.
Two days later, Ye Zhengchen was discharged and came back. I was hanging curtains in his room after tidying up his apartment, throwing away beer cans, and cleaning thoroughly.
He lifted me off the chair and threw me on the bed. “Didn’t I tell you to rest at home and not move around? Why are you climbing so high?”
“Yes, Dr. Ye,” I playfully pushed him. “Go take a shower. I’ve put clean clothes in the bathroom.”
At the mention of a shower, his eyes lit up, and he rushed to the bathroom.
Minutes later, he came out and silently embraced me from behind, pressing me against the wall.
How could he recover so quickly?! If the doctor hadn’t said he had a special constitution with strong recovery abilities, I might suspect he was faking illness to trick me.
“Darling…” he whispered in a magnetic voice, “Did you miss me?”
I coldly pushed him away. “Stop it.”
Seeing no sign of “missing him” on my face, he removed his hand from my waist.
In the following days, we continued to eat together, chat, and discuss my research topic.
I often felt we had traversed time and space, returning to the period before our relationship, restoring that pure feeling reminiscent of Telunsu milk.
He sometimes tried to deepen our connection but never forced the issue. Occasionally, he would touch my hand or brush against me, stopping when I showed no reaction. I knew he was afraid of angering me, so he patiently waited for me to accept our awkward relationship.
I wished he would be more forceful, like before, passionately kissing me and taking control without leaving me room to resist. I longed to know if such passion could melt my coldness and reignite my feelings for him.
Instead, he would sit quietly by my bed when I napped, stroking my hair and gently touching my lips. When I woke, he would retreat to a safe distance.
I once asked if our relationship felt awkward. He replied that it was good to see me every day, eat together, and chat, and I agreed.
Yet, I hoped these three years would pass quickly, yearning for him to truly belong to me alone.
Some people appear just when you’re about to forget them, asserting their existence.
