On a night of torrential rain, Huo Xu rushed from City B to City C overnight. His father Huo Ran was in poor health, and Huo Xu was now managing the company.
He wearily rubbed his temples. After arriving in City C, Huo Xu went to the hotel first.
No sooner had Huo Xu sat down to rest than an unfamiliar number called. Given his status, he normally wouldn’t answer unknown calls, but Shao Yue was cautious—she always called him from public phones or someone else’s mobile. Huo Xu humored her and picked up.
“Ah Xu, it’s me,” Shao Yue said. “Last time you told me things would be settled by May. Tomorrow is May—how are things now?”
Huo Xu frowned. Although he was born out of wedlock, Huo Ran had loved his mother more, so he had lived a comfortable life since birth.
He had been busy at the company all day and had taken a flight overnight. Exhausted, he felt a flicker of impatience at Shao Yue’s urging tone.
Yet, she was someone he had cherished since his youth. Huo Xu said, “They’ll have to agree whether they want to or not. I’ve already made arrangements in City C.”
Shao Yue breathed a sigh of relief and added, “Ah Xu, you’ve worked so hard lately. Thank you for everything you’re doing for our future.”
Huo Xu responded tiredly.
The thought of him marrying that woman made Shao Yue’s heart ache. How to put it? The one who had caught their eyes in the rain in their youth wasn’t just Huo Xu—it was her too. Later, lying on the operating table for reconstructive surgery and cosmetic procedures, Shao Yue had envied Bei Yao’s flawless beauty. Afraid of arousing Huo Xu’s disgust, she hadn’t dared to resemble Bei Yao in the slightest.
Shao Yue feared Jiang Huaqiong, that madwoman, and wanted to survive. Yet, on the other hand, she couldn’t bear to watch the Huo family young master, whom she had guarded for so many years, marry someone else.
Not to mention that woman was younger and more beautiful than her. Shao Yue felt instinctively panicked.
When she spoke again, her tone softened, even carrying a sob: “Ah Xu, thinking about the sacrifices you’re making for me breaks my heart. I wish I could be by your side, together with you. Not just watching you marry that woman. I regret it—I shouldn’t have let you do this.”
Men tended to yield to softness rather than force. Hearing Shao Yue’s tears, Huo Xu’s mood improved slightly. He coaxed her, “It was my idea—what does it have to do with you?”
Shao Yue choked up, “But I’m scared, and I’m jealous too. What if you end up falling for her for real and abandon me?”
Huo Xu was taken aback, his mind flashing to a delicate, fair face—Bei Yao’s eyes like glass in the spring light of March, warm and captivating.
Shao Yue called, “Ah Xu?”
Huo Xu didn’t know why he felt a sudden fluster. He denied it, “Of course I won’t like her. I love you. You’ve done so much for me—don’t overthink it.”
Shao Yue laughed through her tears, coquettishly saying, “Then you’re not allowed to touch her! If you want to… you can come to me.”
Huo Xu said, “Of course.”
By the time the call ended, Huo Xu had lost all desire to sleep and felt even more agitated.
He knew Bei Yao was innocent, but what about Shao Yue? She was innocent too—she had nearly been assaulted by Huo Nanshan for his sake and had her face ruined.
Shao Yue had been with him for eight years, the goddess he had held in his heart since his youth.Moreover, Jiang Huaqiong wasn't certain about the cause of Huo Nanshan's death. After years of fruitless investigation, if he were to be with Shao Yue, she would likely go mad and kill them both in an instant. Only by being with Bei Yao could he explain his original reason for being in City C.
If he had to make a choice, he could only drag Bei Yao into this mess. Besides... Huo Xu thought, Bei Yao might not necessarily be in danger, right? He would do his best to protect her, and perhaps Jiang Huaqiong wouldn't blame him for Huo Nanshan's death.
Irritated, he lit a cigarette. Thinking that tomorrow would likely settle matters with Bei Yao, aside from boundless anxiety, there was also a faint, subtle anticipation.
A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a low rumble of thunder.
The momentary flash of lightning was blocked by the red curtains.
When Bei Yao came out after her bath, she saw Pei Chuan making a bed on the floor. The man silently spread out the quilt he had retrieved from the wardrobe, carefully smoothing its edges.
Hearing Bei Yao emerge, he paused, his fingers tightening on the corners. Instead of smoothing out the wrinkles, he made them worse.
She asked, "Pei Chuan, what are you doing?"
Pei Chuan lowered his gaze. "I promised you before that even after marriage, I would respect your freedom and we would interact as we did before. You can continue your studies, and I won't do anything to you."
Bei Yao's shyness vanished instantly, replaced by irritation and anger.
It was one thing for him to feel insecure and distrust her before marriage, but for him to still think this way after getting married!
Did he think she would divorce him later and marry someone else? What did he take himself for? A stepping stone for her to overcome danger? Something to be discarded after use?
She wasn't without temper either. If he didn't want to touch her, she certainly wouldn't throw herself at him.
Bei Yao fumed, "Then why make a bed on the floor? There's a sofa outside."
His lips paled. "If you..." His voice was slightly hoarse, as if struggling, "don't want me here, I'll sleep outside."
She was so angry she wanted to beat him to death. Sleeping separately on their wedding night—only he could come up with such an idea.
She wasn't the type to get angry easily, but once angered, she wasn't easily appeased. She said, "Suit yourself."
Bei Yao hadn't brought any pajamas, but she had packed several red scarves. She walked around the large bed to fetch one, passing by the man. Pei Chuan looked up.
Her slender, jade-like legs were pale—she wasn't wearing those summer pants.
His gaze felt scalded, but remembering her question about why he didn't sleep on the sofa... Couldn't he even stay a little closer to her? He pressed his lips together, feeling bitter and sad. Unwilling to go against her wishes, he slowly walked out.
Before leaving the room, Pei Chuan couldn't help glancing back. She was sitting on the small sofa drying her hair, her long hair dampening her shirt, the outline of her chest faintly visible. She didn't look at him, turning her face away. He realized Bei Yao was angry.
Since childhood, she had been obedient and well-behaved, rarely angry and never holding grudges. But now she refused to even look at him. Pei Chuan clenched his fists, afraid that staying would make her angrier, and could only walk out.
Bei Yao was both angry and amused. Fine, fine, if he didn't want to sleep together, then he wouldn't! When the time came, even if he begged, she wouldn't allow it!
The living room was nothing like the warm bedroom, and the chill of the spring night was immediately palpable.
He sat on the sofa. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. In the past, he never minded being alone, but now, after just a moment, the warmth of that room felt deeply missed.He had no idea how long he had been sitting outside. Eventually, the light inside went out, leaving him in darkness, his heart aching unbearably.
He remembered she hadn't dried her hair.
Pei Chuan stood up. The door wasn't locked. He said, "Yao Yao, you can't sleep with wet hair."
Bei Yao replied, "Didn't you say you'd respect my freedom? I want to sleep."
He knew she was speaking out of anger, yet his heart still felt pierced, tightening like a spasm.
He walked over. In the faint glow of the night, a small lump was curled up on the bed. He touched her hair—slightly damp and cool to the touch—indeed still wet.
Angered, she pulled her hair away, refusing to let him touch it.
He had never faced such resistance from her before.
His palm felt empty. Pei Chuan had long known that while he could strategize and calculate everything when dealing with others, in front of her, his emotions were entirely in her hands.
He asked softly, "Did I make you angry?"
Bei Yao gritted her teeth and remained silent.
She wasn't one to anger easily, but from the beginning until now, she had tried hard to move closer to him, while he either retreated or distrusted her.
A girl could only endure so much before feeling wronged, and the wedding night was especially poignant, making the hurt all the more acute.
She made no sound, but he could hear her irregular breathing.
Pei Chuan quickly turned on the light. She instinctively pulled the blanket up to cover herself, but it was too late—he had already seen the tears at the corners of her eyes.
His heart ached suffocatingly.
He tugged at the blanket and took her hand, which lay outside the covers. Her snow-white hand was soft and cold. He held it against his cheek, almost helplessly coaxing, "It's my fault for making Yao Yao sad. Don't cry. If you're angry, hit me, okay?"
He took her small hand and guided it to slap his own face.
Pei Chuan didn't understand—sometimes, the more you try to comfort a woman, the more her grievances flood out uncontrollably.
She pulled her hand back and sat up in bed. "No, it's not okay! None of this is okay! If you don't like me, there was no need to marry me just to protect me! If you don't believe I married you willingly, we can go get a divor..."
He covered her lips, his hand trembling. "Don't say it."
She blinked, and tears rolled from her eyes, falling onto the back of his hand, burning a hole straight through his heart.
"Please, don't say it. You can say anything else—hit me, scold me—but not those two words. Not even if you're angry, not even as a joke." This was his bottom line; he couldn't bear it.
She whimpered softly and nodded.
Pei Chuan released her and gently wiped the tears from her small face. The man stood up, fetched the hairdryer from the bathroom, and returned to dry her hair.
The hairdryer hummed steadily, while outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled.
Occasionally, the sky would suddenly brighten. His hand brushed through her soft hair as warm air blew from the dryer.
With his free hand, he softly wiped away the teardrops on her cheek.
Pei Chuan spoke, his voice low in the night, laying his heart bare for her to hear: "Yao Yao, it's not that I don't believe you. There's no one else in this world who would willingly wait for me for eight years. The year I decided to turn myself in, I knew it would be hard for us to be together in this lifetime. What can a cripple, a criminal, use to protect you for a lifetime?"He said, "In the heat of youth, we always feel we can give everything. But if we wait two years, until you're a bit older, what if you regret it? When you remember how my crippled, incomplete body defiled you, that memory will never fade. What could I possibly offer to make it up to you? Even taking my own life wouldn't atone for such a sin."
She bit her lip. "I won't regret it."
He said, "You're twenty-one this year. Girls your age are still studying in school—they have their own circles, their own lives. Marriage feels distant to them. They go to concerts, dream of traveling the world. They, like you, speak without restraint when angry, saying anything in the heat of the moment."
She opened her mouth to speak.
He gently touched her cheek. "Don't rush to deny it, Yaoyao. Growing up involves many experiences. I'm grateful you can speak your mind—it shows the world's suffering remains far from you."
But he had endured too much hardship and despair: having his leg severed by kidnappers, his parents divorcing, no one adopting him, imprisonment... So many dark things. Even when stabbed in the heart, he had to weigh his words carefully before speaking.
Their lives had never followed the same path.
She was like a determined little sun, striving to shine with warmth and persistence.
Pei Chuan said, "Yaoyao, my parents divorced because of my disability. The woman who gave birth to me couldn't accept my incomplete self. I'm truly afraid that one day you'll leave me for the same reason."
She gripped the bright red quilt tightly and whispered, "I won't. I'm sorry."
He said, "No need to apologize. I can't give you much. If possible, I'd wish for a whole body too—marrying me is already a compromise for you. I want you to be free and happy. A good man lets a woman retain her innocence through life; a bad one makes her grow worldly. I hope decades from now, you can still speak your mind freely, because I'll be here."
Pei Chuan said, "I like you so much, so very much. I keep telling myself you don't feel the same, because I'm afraid the day you leave me will be the day I die."
She wrapped her arms around his waist, her voice nasal. "I won't leave. I'll stay with you forever."
He smiled. "Okay."
Bei Yao said, "I'm not angry anymore, but my heart feels heavy, a little sad. Pei Chuan, they didn't want you, they abandoned you because they never knew how wonderful you are. But see? I know how good you are—I could never bear to leave."
Her hair had long dried, yet this was the first time in all these years she'd heard Pei Chuan speak such bitter truths from his heart.
It was also the first time Bei Yao learned why his mother and father had divorced.
Because of his disability...
For Pei Chuan, this was a pain that would never fade.
She said, "It's raining outside. It's cold, isn't it?"
He replied, "Mm."
Burying her face against his waist, she shared her own heartfelt words in a soft, sticky-sweet voice: "I—I'm warm here."
He remained silent, setting down the hairdryer. His slender fingers combed through her hair.
She wanted to say, no need to check—it's already dry. After blowing it for so long, how could it still be damp? No need to confirm.
But the next moment, his fingers in her hair pressed deeper. The pressure tilted her head back gently as he bent down, and his kiss descended.He was telling her, it wasn't that he didn't want to—just how much he truly did.
With every bit of pressure from his slender fingers in her hair, she couldn't help but let out a delicate moan.
Almost sighing yet surging with emotion, he turned off the light and went to her side.
It was indeed very warm.
He pressed her down for a kiss. Outside, rain was falling, but the thunder couldn't penetrate the room.
She was soft—her skin soft, her voice soft.
His hands trembled slightly as two buttons on her chest came undone. With trembling fingers, he fumbled to fasten them, taking a long time.
She, too, had lost her strength, her voice so tender it seemed to drip with moisture: "Pei Chuan, you can't wear your prosthetic leg to sleep."
He gently stroked her hair, his touch both tender and aching.
"Mm."
"Take it off."
In the quiet night, he fumbled to unfasten the prosthetic leg, propped himself up, and placed it at the foot of the bed.
When he lay back down, a delicate girl rolled into his embrace.
For the first time in front of her, Pei Chuan faced his incompleteness directly. His body stiffened unbearably, and he knew Bei Yao could feel the difference in his form.
Pei Chuan was also grateful that the darkness hid everything from view.
She whispered, "Let me touch it? I'm not afraid."
Both knew what she meant, but he held her tighter and shook his head.
He said, "It's not nice to look at, it's injured."
She let out a soft "Oh," utterly obedient.
For the first time, Pei Chuan understood what it meant to have a "delicate wife."
He unbuttoned his own clothes, placed her small hand on his chest, where his heart was beating fast. A man's chest was firm, hard and solid.
He kissed her fragrant, soft hair, lost in this haven of tenderness, his tone impossibly gentle: "You can touch my heart instead."
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