Chapter 31

Outside the window, a bolt of lightning cleaved the dark sky in two, and the torrential rain that was a few days late finally poured down. A thunderclap exploded in Xi Mi’s ears, leaving them buzzing.

She lifted her chin in shock. Her pale face made Ying Quhe’s heart twist with pain. Distressed for her, he pulled her head into his chest, rubbing the back of her head with his large hand to comfort her.

The man’s solid chest provided an overwhelming sense of security. Feeling the warmth of his chest against her cheek, a wave of heat rushed through her cold body, and her floating, unsteady heart finally settled down. She closed her eyes. All the noise around her faded into a dull buzz, leaving only the clear rhythm of Ying Quhe’s heartbeat echoing in her ears.

Beneath Ying Quhe’s sweet embrace, her physical pain became completely insignificant.

Whether this embrace was real or fake, it struck deep into her soft heart, causing a corner of it to sink uncontrollably. As the strength drained from her body bit by bit, she simply remained in that position, leaning into his arms.

Xi Wendao’s fury was palpable, on the verge of exploding. “Oh? Since when did my granddaughter become your fiancée? Who in Jialing doesn’t know she’s already promised to someone else? Mr. Ying, interfering in someone else’s family, is this your idea of a good upbringing?”

Xi Mi’s heart skipped a beat, but just as she grew worried, Ying Quhe’s heavy, resolute voice rang out from above: “Do you have a marriage certificate? Xi Mi and I are already living together. As for you, sir, treating your own granddaughter so violently, do you think your old age makes you immune to the law? I respect you as an elder, so out of consideration for Xi Mi, I’ll let it slide this time. If there is a next time, you can expect a letter from my lawyer.”

Xi Mi peeked out from his chest and saw the old man’s face, the deep wrinkles contorted with rage.

Xi Wendao took a deep breath, his hawk-like glare fixing on her. “Xi Mi, come here.”

“…No.” Xi Mi refused outright, wrapping her arms tightly around Ying Quhe’s waist. She refused to let go, wishing she could bury herself inside him to hide from the old man’s sight forever.

“Xi Mi, let’s go.” Ying Quhe held her wrist firmly, then his hand slid naturally down to clasp hers, intertwining their fingers.

The burning heat of his palm seemed to encase her heart, his fingers gripping hers as if he would never let go. Stunned, Xi Mi allowed him to lead her out the door under the watchful eyes of Xi Wendao and Zou Chengfeng.

As they reached the doorway, the old man’s furious roar echoed from behind them: “If you dare walk out that door today, our relationship as grandfather and granddaughter is over! From now on, the Xi Family no longer has a villainous creature like you!”

Ying Quhe felt Xi Mi pull back on his hand. He turned around to see that she had stopped in her tracks, frozen in place.

The young girl’s eyes turned red, and she rubbed them with the back of her hand, struggling to choke back her tears. She choked out, “Grandfather, when you came to Carmel to get me, I couldn’t understand Chinese, but back then, I thought you were the kindest old man in the world. Even when you were harsh with me later, I stubbornly believed you were doing it for my own good. It wasn’t until you forced me to marry First Senior Brother and give the name ‘Sanchuan’ to him that I realized I was nothing more than a tool for your legacy. Ying Quhe is also my master. He didn’t just teach me how to cook; he taught me what kind of life a girl should live. He passed down not only his craft to me, but also a future and a life. You view me as a vessel to pass down your legacy, but I am a living, breathing human being. I’m still young, with my own dreams to pursue, and I don’t want to be a frog at the bottom of a well anymore. So, Grandfather… I’m sorry.”

Xi Wendao shook violently with rage, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

“Bastard Dao, let’s go.”

Ying Quhe held Xi Mi’s hand as they walked out of the room, passing through the hallway under the gazes of her fellow disciples, and stepped into the elevator.

Outside the hotel, torrential rain poured down. The two stood side by side near the entrance, waiting for Zhou Ming to pull up with the car. Xi Mi kept her head down, tracing circles on the ground with her toe. With a blushing face, she asked, “Bastard Dao…”

“Where are you? Drive the car over.”

As the rain drifted inward, Ying Quhe held his phone to his ear and reached over with his other hand, gently patting the top of Xi Mi’s head to tell her to hold on.

Xi Mi nodded and went back to looking down. Her wet toe drew a frowning face on the floor. As the rain grew heavier and blew inside, dampening her hair and face, Ying Quhe stepped forward while still on the phone, using his broad body to shield her from the wind and rain.

Xi Mi stared at the back of Ying Quhe’s head, momentarily dazed.

He hung up, turned around, and looked down at her. “Zhou Ming will be right here. Just a bit longer.”

She lowered her head with a blush, sneezing as the cold air seeped in.

Wearing only a thin dress shirt on top, Ying Quhe couldn’t take it off to keep her warm. Instead, he took another small step forward until his nose almost brushed her forehead, trying to block every bit of wind and rain.

Xi Mi shifted slightly, but Ying Quhe pressed down on her shoulders. “Don’t move. You’ll get wet.”

Her nose brushed against his chest. Holding her breath, she didn’t dare move again, much less look up at him. If what happened back in the hotel room was just an act out of necessity, what was this now? The ambiguous proximity made her heart race wildly. When she lifted her head slightly, her forehead grazed his chin, and her eyes locked onto his attractive Adam’s apple, not daring to stray any higher.

“The car is here.”

His deep, magnetic voice drew in her thoughts like a magnet, making her eardrums vibrate softly as if tickled by a feather.

Zhou Ming got out of the car and handed them an umbrella. Holding the umbrella with one hand, Ying Quhe wrapped his other arm around Xi Mi’s shoulders, shielding her as she got into the car. Rain dropped noisily against the windows. Zhou Ming handed Ying Quhe a towel and remarked, “This storm is huge. Boss, are we heading back to Ying Shi Pavilion, or…?”

“Home.” Ying Quhe unfolded the towel with both hands, wrapped it around Xi Mi’s head, and gently dried her hair.

As the towel moved across her eyes, blocking and unblocking her vision, she murmured, “There isn’t much water on my hair…” Her gaze fell on Ying Quhe’s right shoulder, where his shirt was completely soaked, clinging to him and revealing the tone of his skin beneath. She poked his shoulder gently. “Your shoulder is completely soaked.”

Before the words had fully left her mouth, a loud explosion shattered the sound of rain, and the car suddenly sagged, forced to a halt. Zhou Ming went outside to check, returning completely drenched. Wiping the rainwater from his face, he complained, “The tires got punctured by a few nails. People these days have no conscience! Boss, I’ll call a taxi so you two can head back first.”

The taxi arrived quickly and pulled over by the curb, stopping ten meters away from the other car. Ying Quhe and Xi Mi stepped out together under a single umbrella, but a sudden gust of wind and rain flipped the canopy inside out and swept the umbrella away entirely, frame and all.

By the time they got into the cab, both of them were soaked to the skin. There were no towels in the car, so Ying Quhe could only ask the driver to turn up the heat. Drenched by the rain, Xi Mi’s chiffon top had gone completely sheer, leaving Ying Quhe with a clear view of the red scars on her back and her black bra.

Once home, Xi Mi sneezed repeatedly. After a hot shower, she wrapped herself in a blanket and sat cross-legged on the sofa. The TV was playing China’s Supreme Taste. As the camera swept across the audience in a fleeting shot, Xi Mi instantly recognized the gleaming head of the Bald Boss.

She glanced toward the kitchen, where the door stood half-open. Ying Quhe was pacing back and forth inside, shuffling his slippers. Xi Mi’s head felt heavy, and a cold weight seemed to press down on her spine. Leaning back against the sofa, she closed her eyes, devoid of any desire to move.

After what felt like forever, the sofa cushion beside her sank. Ying Quhe leaned in close, his warm breath brushing against the back of her ear. “Asleep? Get up and have some ginger soup.” Slipping his arm behind her neck to support her, he scooped her whole body up from the sofa.

Xi Mi opened her eyes sluggishly and glanced at the ginger-and-cola soup^[1] in his hand. One whiff was enough to catch its sharp spice. Turning her head away in distaste, she mumbled, “I don’t want it.”

Ying Quhe grabbed a cushion and stuffed it behind her back. Supported at last, Xi Mi’s limp body sat up. She took the bowl from his hands and downed it in one breath.

The cola had dulled the sharp spice, and the warm soup soon spread heat through her body, bringing out a light sweat. Ying Quhe reached over and rested his hand against her forehead, frowning. “Are you running a fever?”

“How could I? My body is super strong…” The strength in her body drained away thread by thread until she collapsed limply back against the sofa.

Ying Quhe called his doctor, only to learn the man had been in a minor car accident on his way home and couldn’t come over right away. Ying Quhe grabbed his clothes from the rack, slipping into his jacket as he turned to Xi Mi. “Get up. We’re going to the hospital.”

Xi Mi felt too weak to budge. “I’m not going. It’s nothing.”

“Get up!”

Caught off guard by how loud Ying Quhe’s voice sounded in his impatience, Xi Mi flinched. She stared at him blankly, her eyes rimming with red before tears began pattering down her face.

The emotions she had pent up all night finally spilled over. Tears burst through the dam, flooding out uncontrollably just like the downpour outside.

Ying Quhe’s heart softened. He sat down beside her, cradling the back of her head in both hands and rubbing it gently, his heart twisting into a knot. “Alright, stop crying.”

Xi Mi’s voice was a little raspy. “Can’t I cry when I’m sad? It’s not like you care anyway, and nobody else does either. All you care about is how good my cooking is, or whether I win or lose.”

Ying Quhe started slightly. The way he looked at her was like a hot spring misting with warm vapor. He coaxed her softly, “Alright, I care. Right here, it really hurts a little.” He tapped a finger over his heart.

Xi Mi’s sobs didn’t stop. “You’re just like that old man! Always so harsh! Why do you have to be so harsh? Don’t you know how to say nice things to coax me? A girl’s heart is fragile! You’re all so strict and demanding, don’t you even know how to offer a little sweetness?”

He actually wanted to, but every single time, she never gave him the chance.

Holding her head, his thumbs rubbed her ears continuously. “Alright, alright. I’ll coax you with nice words from now on. If you’re really sad,” he patted his chest, “I’ll lend you this. Have a good cry.”

Ying Quhe tried to pull her head into his chest, but Xi Mi pushed him away and sniffled. “So fake. Help me wipe my nose, then I’ll believe you’re telling the truth.”

Alright, fine, fine. Let’s wipe, let’s wipe.

Ying Quhe pulled over a tissue. Holding her head still with one hand, he used the tissue with the other to help her blow her nose.

Feeling completely relieved, Xi Mi threw herself into his arms and wrapped her arms around his waist. The man’s solid embrace gave her more than enough security.

She cried freely, having never felt so unburdened.

Ying Quhe rubbed the back of her head and murmured, “This is how you cured my germaphobia.”

His voice was swallowed by the sound of Xi Mi’s crying.