When Fei Ni woke in the middle of the night, the lamp was still on. She found herself lying on Fang Muyang’s bed, wrapped in his quilt. Subconsciously, she touched the corner of her mouth—her lower lip ached with a biting soreness. Her fingers slid to the first button of her shirt; it was still fastened.
As her fingers brushed her collar, she couldn’t help but notice the ring on her finger—an emerald ring, encircled by diamonds, making her fingers appear even more slender.
No one was beside her, only an empty pillow. During the day, to prevent guests from noticing, their pillows were placed together.
Looking around, she saw Fang Muyang sitting with his back to her, likely sketching something.
Fei Ni had many questions at once: Why was she lying on Fang Muyang’s bed? Why was there a ring on her finger? She only remembered Fang Muyang peeling crab meat for her and her having two extra glasses of wine.
Before asking any questions, she threw off the quilt, sat up from the bed, and went to find her shoes. She vaguely understood what had happened—she must have gotten drunk, and he couldn’t move her back to the upper bunk, so he had let her take over his bed.
She felt somewhat embarrassed because she had gotten drunk, and Fang Muyang still hadn’t slept. If he had gone to sleep on her upper bunk, she wouldn’t have said anything. Fei Ni realized she had misjudged Fang Muyang earlier—he wasn’t as dangerous as she had imagined. When she was drunk, not only had he refrained from taking advantage of her, he hadn’t even shared the same bed with her. Without her permission, he hadn’t slept on the empty upper bunk either, and instead was still painting so late at night. A surge of emotions washed over her. Just yesterday in the bathroom, she had been wondering whether to refuse any further advances from him. Now, she blushed at her own overthinking—what had she been worrying about? However, since the effects of the alcohol had faded, the faint blush on her cheeks was less pronounced than before.
Hearing the sound of shuffling shoes, Fang Muyang knew Fei Ni was awake. He turned and saw the redness on her face had slightly faded, her hair still tousled from when he had ruffled it earlier. He figured she must have forgotten, so he wasn’t going to admit it. Smiling, he said to Fei Ni, “It’s not even four yet. Sleep a little longer.”
Fei Ni glanced over his attire from head to toe—he was only wearing a shirt. On such a cold day, he was dressed so lightly. She walked over to him and noticed he was copying a painting from a sketchbook. “Stop painting and go rest,” she urged.
The ring on her finger inevitably drew her attention. “Where did this ring come from?”
“It was in the box. Have you really not noticed it in ten years?”
After discovering that the box only contained records and sketchbooks, none of the books she wanted to read, she hadn’t examined it carefully again, simply waiting to return it to its owner.
Fang Muyang reached out to stroke the ring on Fei Ni’s finger, then slowly slipped it off.
Just as Fei Ni didn’t understand why Fang Muyang had put the ring on her while she was drunk, she now didn’t understand why he was taking it off.
As his fingertip brushed against her finger, Fei Ni felt a chill.
Before Fei Ni woke up, Fang Muyang had just taken a cold shower, so his entire body was much colder than hers.
Fang Muyang held Fei Ni’s hand and spoke to her: “This ring was left to me by my grandmother. She said it would come in handy when I got married.”Back then, he only had a vague concept of marriage. He thought it might be something he would never need in his lifetime—how restrictive marriage seemed, just like how his father was controlled by his mother. He had no desire to marry at all. Being managed by his parents and teachers during childhood was already more than enough for him. Yet, marriage was an inevitable part of life, something unavoidable. Once he grew up and could make his own decisions, he would never willingly subject himself to such suffering.
Unexpectedly, he still ended up married, and what’s more, he did it voluntarily.
He asked Fei Ni, "Do you regret marrying me?"
Fei Ni instinctively shook her head. She couldn’t find any reason to regret it. Not only had she gained a house, but she had also surprisingly gained a certain degree of freedom through marriage. Back at her parents’ home, she had been free to make her own decisions, but this newfound freedom was entirely different.
Moreover, Fang Muyang had clearly benefited from this marriage as well.
She liked this mutually beneficial arrangement.
"So, you’re willing to marry me?"
Fei Ni felt that his "willingness" and her "willingness" weren’t quite the same thing, but she couldn’t deny it.
He added, "When I gave it to you, I never thought I’d have the chance to put it on your finger myself."
The ring was back on Fei Ni’s finger.
"Now, we can truly consider ourselves married, right?"
Fei Ni understood what Fang Muyang meant. She couldn’t find a reason to disagree—the only possible reason was that it all felt too fast, and she hadn’t had time to adjust. But that reason wasn’t enough for her to say "no."
Instead of answering directly, she glanced down at her watch. "It’s already four o’clock. You should get some sleep. You have work tomorrow… well, later today."
"But I can’t sleep." Fang Muyang’s hand brushed through the hair he had tousled earlier. As his fingers swept past Fei Ni’s ear, she felt that familiar chill again.
She couldn’t help but ask, "Why are your hands so cold?"
"Would you mind warming them up for me?"
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