That evening, Qu Hua had dinner at home.
Old Qu wasn't home. Had he been there, he would have surely believed his words had taken effect—he had that much confidence in himself.
Mu Jing wasn't working today. Before dinner, she specially prepared a dessert, having heard from Xiao Qin that her mother-in-law had a sweet tooth. She had learned to make this particular dessert from her younger cousin's aunt, who had graduated from home economics and could prepare all kinds of Western-style sweets. Mu Jing had only mastered this one dessert, which she made for her family during the New Year. Her younger brother was especially fond of it. When she offered it to her mother-in-law, the older woman also found it quite delicious. However, her son didn't care for sweets and thus missed out on enjoying Mu Jing's culinary skills. Mu Jing smiled and said, "As long as you like it, that's what matters."
Mu Jing sat beside Qu Hua, feeling somewhat uneasy because she knew the real reason he had come home tonight. The more she tried to hide her discomfort, the more she forced a smile onto her face. She busied herself serving Qu Hua, hardly eating much herself. Her mother-in-law couldn't bear to watch and said with a laugh, "Don't worry about him! You should eat more yourself." A mother is always pleased to see her daughter-in-law treating her son with such consideration.
Mu Jing smiled sheepishly. "He hasn't been eating well at the hospital these past few days."
At first, Qu Hua found it strange. Given Mu Jing's temperament, even if she were deliberately trying to please him, she wouldn't need to be so obvious about it. Now he understood: Mu Jing's efforts weren't aimed at him but at his parents. Any gestures meant to please him were partly for his parents' benefit. She wasn't a patient—currying favor with a doctor had limited use. His parents held far more influence than he did. Mu Jing hadn't married him for his sake but for his family. And it seemed her efforts were already paying off: in his parents' eyes, she was the virtuous wife neglected by her newlywed husband.
With such a good wife, Qu Hua naturally couldn't slight her. In his mother's presence, he affectionately patted the back of Mu Jing's hand and said she had been working hard lately. Mu Jing reacted as if she'd been electrocuted, snatching her hand back abruptly. Realizing her overreaction, she quickly smiled and replied, "It's nothing." To her mother-in-law, it simply seemed like shyness. Seeing the young couple getting along well put her mind at ease. Although she had initially been dissatisfied with Mu Jing's family background, now that her son was married, she couldn't very well wish for a divorce. Moreover, she had noticed Mu Jing's many good qualities these past few days. If not for her family holding her back, she would be quite well-matched with her son.
Qu Hua's pat on the hand had its intended effect: Mu Jing stopped serving him and focused on her own meal.
The silence persisted even after they retreated to their room. In front of his parents, she always had plenty to say to him, but once alone, they immediately grew distant.
"Do you have any surgeries scheduled tomorrow?"
"You already asked me that during dinner."
Mu Jing usually had an excellent memory, yet she had forgotten their dinner conversation—likely because they truly had nothing to talk about. She covered her embarrassment with a smile.
"Doesn't your face ache from smiling so much?" He remarked, noting how she had been smiling since dinner.
He smiled too, though his smile carried a hint of mockery.
Mu Jing was taken aback. Had he noticed she was pretending? But then, one doesn't hit a person who smiles. Feigning ignorance, she replied with a mix of amusement and reproach, "You don't care about me in other matters, but you pick on such a trivial thing? As your wife, am I not even allowed to smile? Well, I'll smile all I want."Mu Jing's appearance leaned towards refined elegance. Before marriage, she always wore clothes in solid shades of blue, green, or gray—the most common styles, even plainer than what other girls her age wore—constantly afraid people would associate her with capitalist families. After marriage, she became bolder in her clothing choices. The dress she wore now was from over a decade ago, from her girlhood. All these years later, her figure remained unchanged; she could still wear clothes from many years past.
Her teeth were excellent, making her smile more appealing than her neutral expression, even when the smile was feigned. Now, with a hint of playful reproach, there was a certain charm to it.
Qu Hua pulled over a chair and sat down, looking up to examine his new wife carefully. "You like Renoir, don't you?"
Mu Jing adopted an expression of earnest curiosity. "You mentioned him last time. Could you tell me more about him?" Their marriage was unstable; they had never been on the same page. Honesty was dangerous for her.
Qu Hua simply stared at Mu Jing without speaking, as if trying to see right through her. He abruptly pulled her into his arms. She played the role of the infatuated woman so convincingly that the old man had taken it seriously and even went to the hospital to urge him to return. Little did the old man know that Mu Jing's favorite act was that of the virtuous wife dutifully guarding an empty room night after night.
Forced to sit on what felt like a human-shaped chair, Mu Jing was encircled by Qu Hua's embrace. He observed her expression from the side—he much preferred her flustered state. Her composed, performative demeanor was far less interesting than this. Mu Jing initially struggled to stand, but Qu Hua pressed his hand on her shoulder and leaned close to her ear, saying, "I thought you liked being close to me like this." Mu Jing's shoulders were stiff. At such proximity, she caught the scent of Qu Hua's shampoo—he had showered at the hospital before returning. That matter would inevitably happen tonight.
Since it was bound to happen sooner or later, it might as well be sooner. Mu Jing asked if he wanted to bathe now and offered to draw his bathwater.
Qu Hua said he had already showered at the hospital.
Blushing, Mu Jing spoke bluntly, "Then wait for me a moment. I'll go take a shower."
Before she left the bedroom, Qu Hua asked, "May I look at your books?" There was a book lying open on the desk. She wasn't afraid of him seeing anything left out in the open.
"Of course." Feeling unnerved by his gaze, Mu Jing walked to the desk and sat down. She reached behind her neck to undo the hair clip, and her hair cascaded down in thick, dark waves, instantly covering her shoulders.
Qu Hua moved behind Mu Jing and began smoothing her hair with his fingers. She had washed it the previous night, and it was still silky. With such abundant hair, washing it was time-consuming, yet it remarkably caused her little trouble—it stayed fresh for two or three days as if just washed. She rarely washed it daily, but today she decided to wash it again. Both washing and drying her hair took considerable time; perhaps subconsciously, she wasn't as resolute as she appeared.
Mu Jing's scalp tingled under his touch, as if electrified, the sensation coursing through her entire body, leaving her limbs numb and prickly. Feigning composure, she said, "I'm going to take a shower."Mu Jing took an unusually long bath. Though she had bathed just yesterday, she couldn't shake the feeling of being unclean, scrubbing her skin raw with repeated washing until she finally resolved to step out. Married now, that matter would have to be addressed sooner or later—delaying served no purpose.
Returning to the room, she found Qu Hua flipping through her books. He had asked about them earlier, but she doubted he could persist—these were her specialized textbooks, and she didn't believe Qu Hua could comprehend them.
Hearing the door push open, Qu Hua turned to look at her. Mu Jing lowered her head, drying her hair with a towel. At that rate, her hair wouldn't be dry by morning.
Qu Hua walked over to help her dry it. Water droplets trailed down Mu Jing's neck into her clothes. As he bent to tend to her hair, they stood so close they nearly touched. Mu Jing's face, flushed from the steam, burned crimson. She kept her head down, silent, the previous laughter nowhere to be found. Qu Hua, in turn, disliked her jokes because every word rang hollow. He sought her lips while still drying her hair, and Mu Jing compliantly tilted her face, meeting his kiss. Drops from her hair slid onto Qu Hua's cheek. With closed eyes, Mu Jing felt his lips. The kiss lingered, and she recalled her former boyfriend—they had never kissed this long, always rushed.
She lived in a dorm, he in a dorm too—neither had private space, and outside wasn't convenient. During holidays back home, her mother enforced rules: if her boyfriend entered her bedroom, the door couldn't be locked, and if she visited his home, she wasn't allowed in his bedroom. Her mother, who had broken family constraints for free love, imposed just as many regulations when parenting. Mu Jing hadn't intended intimacy in her bedroom, but her mother's strictness sparked rebellion. With the record player spinning on its own, amid the music, Mu Jing asked her boyfriend to kiss her. He did so cautiously, afraid to linger on her lips. She laughed, calling him a coward, utterly unbrave—in their home, everyone knocked before entering.
Her boyfriend explained he was thinking of their future; he needed to leave a good impression on his potential in-laws. If he offended them, what if they refused to let her marry him? Mu Jing tickled his ear with her finger, asking what era this was, still bound by parental decrees. Stirred by her touch, he geared up to be brave, but Mu Jing stepped away to browse the records he'd brought. Sorting through them with a smile, she said, "Who said I'd marry you?" Though her words denied it, in her heart, she had already chosen him—even his lack of bravery appealed to her, as she disliked men dominating her. Youthful then, she always believed she could master her own fate.Qu Hua's kiss was completely different from her ex-boyfriend's—his kiss brooked no refusal, constantly reminding Mu Jing that he was the dominant one in this relationship. This stirred Mu Jing's competitive spirit. Being passive in other aspects was one thing, but being passive in this matter made her feel like she was selling herself. Qu Hua was handsome, and being with him wasn't a loss—she was sleeping with him, not the other way around. Driven by this peculiar sense of pride, she reached out to wrap her arms around Qu Hua's neck, licking his lips because they were somewhat dry. When Qu Hua parted her teeth, she immediately offered her tongue. While responding to him, she unfastened his belt, pretending to be filled with desire for him. She deliberately acted experienced, even though a woman having premarital experience was considered a major stain in this era.
However, Mu Jing's actions couldn't exceed her understanding—her theoretical experience only went this far. Fortunately, she had stirred Qu Hua's passion, and from then on, she didn't need to take the initiative.
Lying on the bed, she reached to turn off the light, guessing that her face must not look very appealing at the moment. She certainly didn't want to resemble his ex-girlfriend, but having gone this far, it would be quite a loss if he realized he had picked the wrong person.
But Qu Hua stopped her.
He preferred observing her reactions under the light—her fingers tightly gripping the bedsheet beneath her, her lips slightly parted as if yearning for a kiss. No matter how much self-control she had, she couldn't feign indifference now. Her genuine reactions were a stimulus to him. He even slowed his movements to watch her expressions.
Mu Jing insisted on turning off the light. "Like this, I feel like I'm being observed on an operating table."
"Then you really don't know me well."
If a surgeon in the operating room still had the energy to care about the patient's height, weight, or facial expressions, they would have far too much vigor—he was nowhere near that level of mastery.
On the operating table, he had seen more than one patient completely unclothed, but that was merely work. Patients undergoing cranial surgery sometimes asked why they had to remove all their clothes when only their head was affected, with female patients particularly prone to such questions. Qu Hua always left such explanations to the nurses. After years of performing surgeries, men and women held no distinction in his eyes. He never quite understood why, when someone was gravely ill, they still had the leisure to worry about such matters.
It wasn't his responsibility if patients had wandering thoughts, but if Mu Jing still had the mental space to think about this, it was his failure as a husband.
He had to exert all his effort.
Soon, Mu Jing no longer had the leisure to ponder such questions. She temporarily forgot her circumstances, far too physically drained to think of anything else, focusing only on how to withstand her husband. In all these years, there had rarely been a moment like this—previously, even her dreams were filled with worries about her future, but now her mind had no room for such thoughts. Her hands desperately needed something to hold onto, and in the end, she hooked them around Qu Hua's neck.
When it was over, Mu Jing kept her arms wrapped around Qu Hua's neck. Only after a long while did she withdraw them, her face flushed deeply, her entire body tinged with red.
The curtains were half-drawn, and Mu Jing could finally briefly gaze at the moon outside the window. She thought, her parents and brothers were looking at the same moon.
This time, Qu Hua's kiss was much gentler than before. Mu Jing closed her eyes and yielded to Qu Hua's kiss.His tenderness stirred her memories. She still remembered her first kiss—her boyfriend had been so cautious, his lips trembling against hers, and she could hear the frantic beating of his heart. Because he was so nervous, she ended up feeling calm instead. Though he later withdrew, the memory he left her was still a pleasant one. Back then, she felt cherished and didn’t need to please anyone.
The second time, Qu Hua said they would eventually have children, and there was nothing wrong with having one sooner. Mu Jing thought he disliked the inconvenience of contraception, but it was actually a perfect excuse—he was thirty already and ought to have a child. A child could also solidify her position in the family. Yet despite these advantages, she still didn’t want one. Lying in Qu Hua’s arms, she told him, “I don’t want a child so soon. Having you is enough for me.”
Mu Jing spoke with such sincerity that Qu Hua was more than willing to believe it was true.
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