Mu Jing finished her shower quickly. She emerged with her head lowered. "You should go wash up now." Without looking at Qu Hua, she towel-dried her hair.
Qu Hua took the towel and began drying her hair for her—gently, meticulously. Their faces drew closer, a distance that should have allowed clear sight of each other, yet neither looked into the other's eyes. Droplets from Mu Jing's hair slid onto Qu Hua's fingers. So near, Mu Jing thought he would lean in to kiss her, but he didn't. She insisted several times that she could dry it herself, but Qu Hua ignored her and continued. After what felt like a long while, he sniffed her hair and said it was done.
Mu Jing pointed toward the bathroom and repeated, "Go take a shower."
"Let's eat first."
His hair had been damp from the rain earlier. Before they went out, Mu Jing had handed him a towel to dry it briefly. Uncomfortable under his gaze, she shoved the towel into his hands. "Dry it a bit more." Qu Hua grasped her hand and kissed her mouth. She closed her eyes, seeking the tenderness from before, but Qu Hua didn't comply. His kiss was fierce, a harshness that told her not to be perfunctory with him in the ways she'd been intimate with her ex. He constantly reminded her who she was dealing with now.
Mu Jing had no time to recall her former boyfriend—the one who would ask permission even for a kiss. She had thought they would be together forever, but in the end, even their breakup required her decision. He loved her, yet he wanted an easier life, so she made the final choice for him.
Qu Hua didn't need her to decide anything. She disliked this about him, but if he weren't that kind of man, he wouldn't have withstood the pressure to marry her.
Qu Hua's fingers revisited the nightly routine, reawakening certain physical memories in Mu Jing.
When they were apart, Mu Jing didn't miss him much, nor did she often recall their moments together. But upon meeting, past scenes flooded her mind. She didn't dislike physical contact with Qu Hua; most times, she even enjoyed it. Perhaps Qu Hua himself hadn't realized how hard he worked to please her during intimacy—though he might not see it that way, perhaps viewing her pleasure as a sign of his conquest. Yet for Mu Jing, she was often genuinely pleased. She liked his fingers, his effort. At such times, his sarcasm toward her seemed utterly absurd. He stood for hours in the hospital operating room, then came home to please her in bed. Sometimes, tracing the sweat on his back, she wondered whether he sweated more in surgery or in bed.
Outside, the rain pattered softly. Mu Jing lay on the bed, breathing rapidly, her face flushed redder than from the hot shower. But Qu Hua didn't go further. He fastened the last button of her clothes from bottom to top. "Let's eat."
A damp spot remained on the bed. Mu Jing tidied her disheveled hair in the mirror. He had mussed it with kisses; the blush on her cheeks hadn't faded at all. In this state, she couldn't possibly go out.
"I'm not very hungry. Maybe you should eat first."
"If you don't want to go out, I'll bring food to you."Mu Jing sat across from Qu Hua, eating her meal. Qu Hua had just washed his hands with soap—likely a habit leftover from his surgical work—even during regular handwashing, he scrubbed vigorously. Mu Jing could still smell the soap scent on his hands.
She tried her best to ignore his fingers, which always stirred certain associations in her. Compared to their time on the bus, Mu Jing spoke more, asking how his grandmother’s health was and whether his parents were doing well. Qu Hua’s replies were brief, mostly “fine” or “not bad.”
Qu Hua placed a piece of deboned fish in front of Mu Jing. She instinctively said thank you and lowered her head to eat. Qu Hua didn’t eat himself, merely watching her.
Mu Jing shifted the fish dish. “Have some too.”
“I don’t like fish.”
Mu Jing smiled apologetically.
Qu Hua picked out another piece of boneless fish for her. “It’s not too late for you to know now.” During the meal, she had been busy dealing with his family and hadn’t had the chance to notice whether he ate fish or not. While she was preoccupied with polite conversation, he had ample time to observe her. He noticed she disliked picking out fish bones—when there was fish with fewer bones on the table, she would eat a little, but if the fish had many bones, she wouldn’t touch it at all. That’s why he had specifically chosen a less bony fish for her this time.
Mu Jing urged Qu Hua to eat more as well.
“I ate on the way.”
Qu Hua ordered a bottle of liquor, warming it in hot water, and asked Mu Jing if she wanted a glass. She declined, which he had expected. Someone as cautious as her would never drink in front of someone she didn’t trust. He poured himself a glass, sipping it while watching Mu Jing. “You must have had quite a few suitors over the years.”
“Aside from you, I don’t want to marry anyone else.”
Mu Jing’s words were so beautifully put that Qu Hua almost doubted their sincerity. Yet, she had indeed married him, and not someone else.
Mu Jing poured herself half a glass of liquor, took a sip, and continued somewhat disappointedly, “Actually, aside from you, not many people wanted to marry me.” For the sake of mutual dignity, she should have implied that she had many suitors, some of them outstanding, and that his success in winning her over would satisfy his vanity and show how much she valued him.
But the truth was, among those who wanted to date her, few intended to marry her. Mu Jing saw through their intentions and couldn’t even be bothered to meet them. As for those who did want to marry her, they hadn’t pursued her at all—they went straight to listing their demands for after marriage. Their conditions were so lackluster compared to their expectations that Mu Jing couldn’t help but wonder if they were delusional. Still, she simply declined quietly, saying she wasn’t good enough for them. When she said that, they took it as genuine self-deprecation. Someone like him—who properly asked her out to watch movies, firmly proposed to her, was good-looking in her eyes, and didn’t make excessive demands—was the only one. No matter his flaws, he was still the best among them all.Mu Jing took another sip of wine. At least she had a job now. She noticed the change in Qu Hua's expression. Frankly speaking, it had been unnecessary to say that, yet she couldn't help herself at the time. She thought Qu Hua could have guessed most of it anyway—lying to elevate one's status in such matters only made one more contemptible. But she hadn't expected him to think so highly of her, assuming she had plenty of options. Once the truth came out, both felt awkward. She hadn't chosen him because he was one in a million, but because she had no other choice.
She didn't particularly care herself. Even if those men wanted to marry her, she wouldn't be willing. But for a man, the ideal wife is one pursued by many, yet she only favors him. The latter only holds value if the former is true. In her youth, many had pursued her, though quite a few neither understood nor liked her—they just wanted the prestige of winning her over. Clearly, that value had now been lost.
In Mu Jing's past interactions with Qu Hua, though discomfort was common, this level of awkwardness was a first.
Qu Hua picked up another piece of fish for Mu Jing. "Then they must be blind." Though he knew Mu Jing's current situation, the Mu Jing in his memory was still the one his classmates would write to under assumed names, the one admissions officers used as a lure to attract students, the one pursued by many yet spurning them all. That she settled for him was only because her brother needed care at the time. The reality was even bleaker than he had imagined.
Mu Jing should have thanked Qu Hua for recognizing her worth, but she couldn't utter a word. She continued eating with her head down, chewing quickly with her mouth closed.
Qu Hua stopped the piece of fish Mu Jing had just picked up with his chopsticks. "Watch out for bones."
Mu Jing left herself no room to speak, keeping her head down as she ate. Her hair fell forward, and Qu Hua reached out to tuck it behind her ear, revealing her entire face. Mu Jing turned away, put down her chopsticks, and walked to the bathroom. Qu Hua heard the sound of running water; he guessed Mu Jing was probably washing her face. The sound stood apart from the rain outside. After about five minutes, the water stopped.
When Mu Jing emerged, her face was once again expressionless. It had always refused to betray emotion.
When Qu Hua kissed her again, she responded with passion. Lying on the bed, she looked up at the ceiling light. Qu Hua buried his head in the crook of her neck. Mu Jing reached out, hovering her hand over his hair, but before touching it, she immediately withdrew and tightly gripped the bedsheet.
Qu Hua unbuttoned Mu Jing's clothes one by one, undressed her, and wrapped her entirely in the quilt. "Get some good sleep. You can sleep until noon."
Mu Jing had thought one of Qu Hua's purposes in coming was to have sex with her, yet he didn't go that far.
Wrapped in the quilt, Mu Jing listened as the sound of water from the bathroom blended with the rain outside.
That night, Qu Hua lay on the other bed. When he arrived, only this double room was available, and he hadn't considered sleeping separately from Mu Jing then. But now, he wanted her to know that what existed between them wasn't just about what happened in bed—other kinds of relationships could develop too.
Lying in bed, he asked Mu Jing, "Are you asleep?"
It seemed like a difficult question to answer. After a long pause, Mu Jing finally said, "No."The night rain continued to fall as he spoke of the Lecture Notes she had left him. They engaged in a question-and-answer exchange, neither suggesting it was time to sleep despite the late hour. As they talked, Qu Hua noticed Mu Jing’s lips were slightly dry. He walked to the window, poured her a glass of water, and handed it to her. Wrapped in her blanket, Mu Jing sat up to drink. Qu Hua observed her flushed face but doubted her shyness would linger this long. He pressed his hand to her forehead, gave her the cup, and rummaged through his suitcase for a thermometer. Since accessing a hospital here was inconvenient, he had brought a medical kit for her during this visit.
Qu Hua reached into Mu Jing’s blanket to retrieve the thermometer. "How long has it been?"
After giving her medicine, he said, "If the fever hasn’t broken by morning, I’ll take you to the hospital."
Mu Jing tried to speak further, but Qu Hua tucked in the corners of her blanket. "Get some sleep now."
In the night, Qu Hua heard Mu Jing murmuring in her sleep—even in dreams, she was working. He went to her side, resting his hand on her forehead to check her temperature. In the faint light, he gazed at her face and recalled their first meeting, when she had lain on his bed, her brow furrowed even in sleep.
The next morning, Qu Hua took Mu Jing to the Machine Factory—Old Wu’s approved leave went entirely unused. Qu Hua had arrived with a bulging suitcase but left with it empty.
At noon, when Mu Jing finished work and headed to the cafeteria, she spotted Qu Hua at the entrance. Nodding to her colleagues, she stayed behind. Qu Hua spoke faster than usual, informing her he had arranged daily milk deliveries for her. The bag he carried contained fruit and ham he had bought nearby, which he would drop off at her dorm. Glancing at his watch, he urged, "Hurry and eat—don’t you have a meeting soon?"
Mu Jing watched Qu Hua walk away, his figure growing distant. Her colleague, surprised she had returned so early, was about to ask why she hadn’t stayed longer when she noticed Mu Jing’s fixed gaze, completely unaware of her presence. Following Mu Jing’s line of sight, the colleague saw a man’s retreating back—a silhouette she recognized well as Mu Jing’s husband.
The colleague called out to Mu Jing, snapping her out of her trance. Hurriedly, Mu Jing returned to her dorm to fetch money and industrial vouchers. Qu Hua walked briskly, and by the time Mu Jing retrieved the funds and ran after him, he was already far ahead. As the bus to the train station approached, she remained a significant distance away.
She called his name, her initial cries too soft for anyone but herself to hear. But as the bus doors opened, Mu Jing finally raised her voice.
She saw Qu Hua’s back freeze in place. By the time Mu Jing reached him, sweat beaded on the tip of her nose.
Qu Hua wiped the sweat from her nose with his finger. "I was waiting right here—why the rush?"
"I didn’t have time to buy things for the family. Could you help me get some and bring them back?"
"I know. You don’t need to give me money."
Mu Jing gripped Qu Hua’s wrist, forced the money into his hand, then immediately pulled back, hiding her hands behind her back.
They stood there together, waiting for the next bus to the train station.
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