Mu Jing returned to her room, where Qu Hua was smoking by the window. Mu Jing coughed from the smoke, prompting Qu Hua to stub out his cigarette in a flowerpot. The flowers in the pot were blooming beautifully.
Qu Hua's clothes were still crumpled in a corner of the wardrobe. Mu Jing wondered whether she should fold them, but she couldn't bring herself to do it under Qu Hua's gaze. Instead, she sat at the desk and began preparing lessons. She felt a pair of eyes fixed on her back, making her entire body tense. Hearing footsteps approach, she snapped her notebook shut and turned to the textbook, though there was nothing particularly interesting about it.
"Do you feel uncomfortable when I'm at home?"
"You've misunderstood." Mu Jing found it impossible to write under someone's scrutiny, even if they were just watching from behind. No matter how hard she tried, it was futile.
"If you distrust me so much, why did you marry me?"
"Why ask that? First, unconditional trust doesn't exist. Don't you have secrets from me too?" Mu Jing smiled. "Second, I'm sure plenty of people would have wanted to marry you. My wanting to marry you isn't exactly unusual."
"Do you think your life is better now than before you were married?"
"Of course it's better. I'm happy to be married to you, and I hope you feel the same. When is Grandma's surgery scheduled?" Hadn't he rushed into this marriage partly to persuade his grandmother to undergo the operation? Now that the goal was achieved...
"Grandma tried the pastries you sent and asked me to thank you. She wants to see you again—tomorrow at noon, if you don't mind making another trip."
"Grandma might not actually want to see me."
"I told her your name is Fang Mu Jing." Qu Hua paused. "Have you told your parents about our marriage?"
"I've cut off all contact with them."
"I remember you have an older brother. Didn't you inform him either?"
"His job is... unusual. It's hard to reach him."
"So none of your family knows we're married?"
Mu Jing found Qu Hua's statement imprecise. She was part of her family too, and she was fully aware of this marriage.
"That doesn't matter."
"What does matter to you?"
"What matters is that Grandma agreed to the surgery." Qu Hua had also benefited from this marriage—she wasn't the only one gaining something.
Qu Hua turned and stared directly at her face. Mu Jing lowered her head, unsure whether she resembled Yanyan more when looking down or when looking up. She always felt as if there was someone standing between her and Qu Hua.
Qu Hua gazed intently at Mu Jing's face. Her profile strongly resembled his deceased ex-girlfriend. That day on the train, he had heard hysterical shouting and glanced over to see a similar silhouette. He had watched her for a few moments—not just because of the resemblance, but because the vulgarity of those shouts felt jarring coming from such a face. Mu Jing hadn't noticed him then, as she was fiercely pushing her way through the carriage, her boldness carrying a strange kind of courage.
Mu Jing lifted her head and met Qu Hua's gaze. "Do you remember? You once said I resemble someone you know."
"Did I? When was that?"“On the train. There’s no need for you to deny it.” Mu Jing continued, “I thought at the time, it must have been someone very important to you for you to help me just because I resembled her a little. Yanyan was your ex-girlfriend, wasn’t she?”
Qu Hua remained silent for a moment before saying, “You two aren’t actually that alike. You’re much smarter than she was—she was always foolish.”
When you love someone, no matter how clever they are, you often think they’re a bit silly and in need of your care. Mu Jing smiled; in Qu Hua’s eyes, she was intelligent.
“Your love story must have been very touching. Can you tell me about it?” Mu Jing adopted a posture of eager listening, content to be an audience to someone else’s romance.
“You’re really magnanimous.” Qu Hua suddenly grinned at her. “Just listening to a love story is boring, especially someone else’s. Right now, I’m more interested in our story. We got married yesterday—how should we develop things today?”
Qu Hua pinched Mu Jing’s chin with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Tonight, we’ll make up for what we should have done yesterday.”
He kissed her fiercely, giving her no room to refuse. Pushing her toward their bed, the kiss grew increasingly intense—more like a bite than a kiss. He had expected Mu Jing to resist or perhaps curse at him as she had that day, but she simply closed her eyes, as if resigned to whatever he did.
Although they hadn’t even held hands before marriage, Mu Jing had prepared herself to share a bed after agreeing to marry him. Once married, how could she avoid this? If he had returned yesterday, she would have naturally carried out her wifely duties. For both of them, this act held only physiological significance—even more so for Qu Hua, a doctor who was no stranger to human anatomy. Since it was purely physical contact, Mu Jing tried to view Qu Hua from a purely physiological perspective. His physique was one she could appreciate, and his face was handsome—she wasn’t exactly at a disadvantage. But since he hadn’t come back yesterday, she had harbored an unwarranted hope of postponing this moment. When he kissed her, Mu Jing felt a surge of intense reluctance—purely psychological, with no physical manifestation. Her face and body conveyed complete submission. If this day was inevitable, there was no harm in it happening now. She didn’t consider it a big deal; it was something a hot shower could wash away.
Resistance can sometimes ignite fierce passion, but Mu Jing’s response was indifference. Qu Hua’s sudden surge of desire quickly faded. When he first saw her, she had been fiery and spirited, but that warmth in her was scarce.
As he leaned over her, her profile became even clearer. Mu Jing reached to turn off the lamp, but he caught her hand. “Is there something you’re ashamed of?”
Mu Jing closed her eyes, letting Qu Hua look at her as he pleased. She was actually doing him a favor—under the light, he would surely notice the many differences between her and his ex-girlfriend.
She heard the click of the lamp being turned off.Mu Jing felt her buttons being undone. She closed her eyes, sensing his fingers. Before leaving the hospital, he had scrubbed his hands thoroughly, and the scent of soap still lingered. She thought of her former lover, a prominent figure during their student days whose face had now grown hazy in her memory. Yet, she still remembered the poems he had written for her. Thinking back, they seemed cringeworthy, but at the time, she hadn’t felt that way—perhaps because he had only been that way with her. Later, when he proposed breaking up with her, she couldn’t recall how she felt then, only that she had said, "Alright." To her surprise, his eyes reddened in front of her as he confessed he wanted an easier life. Before his tears could fall, she turned away in time, wishing him happiness. She simply didn’t have the energy to comfort him, nor did she want to cry with him—the scene would have been absurd. She needed to save her strength for something else.
Just like now, she wasn’t planning to use her energy resisting. She still needed to finish writing the proof she had been thinking about earlier.
Qu Hua stood up from the bed, leaving Mu Jing lying there with her buttons undone. He pulled a thin blanket over her and sat down to light a cigarette. Mu Jing tugged the blanket over her face, unable to suppress a cough.
When Qu Hua left, the room’s light was still on, and Mu Jing remained in bed.
Hearing the door close, she threw off the thin blanket and fastened her buttons one by one.
The crumpled clothes in the wardrobe were gone—Qu Hua probably wouldn’t be back for the next week or so.
Once her buttons were done up, she got up to write the proof she had been thinking about.
The next morning at breakfast, Old Qu offered to let Mu Jing’s younger brother come live with them.
In Old Qu’s view, losing one’s memory wasn’t a big deal. Abilities could be cultivated, and if others couldn’t manage it, he could help train him.
Mu Jing thanked her father-in-law for his kindness but didn’t agree immediately. Her brother had been injured while saving someone, so both the Office of Educated Youth and the hospital had a responsibility to care for him, both emotionally and logically. If he came here, he would become her tagalong—how could a tagalong hold his head high? Still, her father-in-law had a point: her brother was different from her. By saving someone, he had changed his social standing. Whether he regained his memory or not didn’t matter—those memories might not even be good for him if they returned. The most important thing was for him to regain the ability to take care of himself. Relying on others wasn’t sustainable, and it would be best if she took charge. She hesitated between the two options.
OpenNovel