Chapter 32

Outside the French windows, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. The garden plants were whipped about by the wind, with no sign of the torrential rain letting up. Snot and tears covered his shoulder as the little girl’s sobs gradually faded, and she fell asleep in his arms.

Ying Quhe lowered his head with a slight smile. He stroked the back of her head with his large hand, his palm brushing across her cheek. Sensing her burning temperature rising rather than dropping, he realized things were looking bad.

He laid Xi Mi down on the sofa. On his way to get the car, he dropped by the backyard. The small vegetable patch behind the house had been ruined by the storm, and Ulrica’s doghouse was flooded. Cowering in a corner under the eaves, the dog spotted Ying Quhe and rushed over pitifully. With soaked fur, it did not dare jump into his arms, settling for a crestfallen wag of its tail instead.

After settling Ulrica, Ying Quhe drove the car to the front door. He fetched a raincoat, wrapped Xi Mi up tightly until only her small face was exposed, and took her to the hospital.

At seven in the morning, the streets outside were bleak after the storm. Xi Mi woke up with a dry mouth and throat, finding herself in a hospital room with an IV drip in the back of her hand and a cool sensation on her spine.

She sat up and slipped a hand into the back of her shirt. The ointment applied over the bruises on her back had dried hard.

Ying Quhe was leaning back on the sofa taking a brief nap, his expression showing hints of exhaustion.

Xi Mi froze slightly.

He had just… slept like that the whole night? Remembering how she made him wipe her snot last night, crying hysterically in his arms… Xi Mi wanted nothing more than to smother herself with the blanket. Afraid of waking him, she reached out to grab the cold boiled water on the nightstand. Just as her fingertips touched the clear glass, a man’s clear voice came after a soft cough: “You have the strength to reach for the glass, but not to call out to someone?”

Ying Quhe stood up and walked over. He poured out the cold water, refilled the glass with warm water, stirred in a little honey, and handed it to her. “What do you want to eat?”

“Soy milk and fried dough sticks.” Xi Mi cupped the glass with both hands and took a sip, head lowered, not daring to look him in the eye.

“Too greasy.” Ying Quhe gave her hair an affectionate ruffle before leaving. “Wait here, I’ll go buy breakfast.”

Xi Mi stared at Ying Quhe’s retreating back, clutching the hair that still retained the warmth of his palm. It felt as though honey was melting in her heart. She frowned at the liquid in her glass; it smelled like honey, but lacked any sweetness.

The nurse came in to remove her IV drip and treat the wound on the back of her hand. Once done, Xi Mi got out of bed and went to sample the honey.

The honey carried the fragrance of rapeseed flowers, but only after a few mouthfuls was there a tiny hint of sweetness. Xi Mi pouted, her brows furrowing. This honey was quite strange too.

Ying Quhe returned with a bowl of plain rice porridge, a hard-boiled egg, and a small dish of appetizing pickled vegetables. Xi Mi scraped half the dish of pickled carrots into her porridge. The diced carrots were crisp and refreshing, except…

“This breakfast shop has been open for over twenty years, and their pickles are completely authentic. Most people can barely take the sourness. How does it taste to you?”

Ying Quhe’s question made Xi Mi’s face go pale. She picked up a piece of diced carrot and lifted it to Ying Quhe’s lips. “Try it. I think it tastes nothing like what you said.”

He opened his mouth and ate the piece she offered. The sourness was perfectly normal, and without porridge to dilute it, it was enough to make one’s teeth go weak.

Xi Mi said, “I felt like the sourness was… very faint, almost tasteless. And the honey was weird too. I took several spoonfuls before I could taste even a little bit of sweet.”

Ying Quhe peeled the boiled egg and set the smooth white egg on the edge of her plate. “It’s normal to lose your sense of taste when you’re sick.”

Xi Mi nodded somewhat dejectedly. Being unable to taste anything really was uncomfortable.

She picked up the bowl and gulped down the rest of the plain porridge in two quick swigs.

The doctor checked her temperature. The fever had broken, and she was cleared to be discharged.

Ying Quhe followed the doctor’s instructions and picked up several medications for Xi Mi, both oral and topical. The injuries on her back needed ointment as well. Those strikes had been brutal, and without medication, the wounds might fester.

It was nearly nine in the morning by the time they returned home. After a night of storm, the yard was a mess, strewn with fallen leaves and dead branches. When Xi Mi pushed open the door, Ulrica suddenly bounded out from the entryway, startling her so much that she recoiled right into Ying Quhe’s arms.

Ying Quhe steadied her, then stooped down to pet Ulrica’s head. He said to Xi Mi, “Go on inside first. The backyard is probably a mess too, so I’ll go clean it up. Ulrica can’t stay indoors all the time; the doghouse suits him better.”

The villa was massive. Ever since Xi Mi moved in, she had never been to the backyard. For one thing, Ulrica stayed back there, and without Ying Quhe around, she was afraid the dog might lose its temper and leap to bite her.

And for another… after all, this was Ying Quhe’s house. It felt inappropriate to wander around freely, so her range of movement had always been limited to the front yard, the living room, the kitchen, and her own room.

Xi Mi put back on the shoes she had just taken off and looked timidly at Ulrica. “I… I’ll come with you.”

“You haven’t fully recovered yet. Go inside and rest.”

As Ying Quhe spoke, Ulrica slipped from his grasp and nudged Xi Mi’s calf, lifting its head to give her two soft barks. She could tell the dog harbored no ill intent; in fact, she could almost sense… that it was looking out for her.

She fell silent for a moment, then said, “I… I’d like to take a look at the backyard, if that’s okay? After living here for so long, I haven’t even seen Ulrica’s territory.”

As if understanding that Xi Mi wanted a tour of its territory, Ulrica took the hem of her skirt in its mouth and gently tugged her toward the backyard. As Ying Quhe stood up, Xi Mi grabbed his arm. “Bastard Dao, quickly make him let go of my skirt! It’s very expensive!”

Ying Quhe called out “Ulrica” in a stern voice. The dog immediately released her dress, giving a sideways glance that looked remarkably like an eye-roll. Xi Mi followed closely behind Ying Quhe toward the backyard while Ulrica wagged its tail and led the way. She tugged on Ying Quhe’s shirt sleeve and whispered, “I think… you just got looked down on by your dog.”

“He just has that kind of temper.” Ying Quhe intentionally slowed his pace to walk side by side with Xi Mi.

Because the bluestone path was too narrow, they walked extremely close together. Xi Mi’s shoulder repeatedly brushed against his arm. She could clearly feel the warmth of his body, and inexplicably, a subtle touch of intimacy bloomed between them.

Xi Mi deliberately slowed her steps, but no matter how slowly she walked, Ying Quhe always matched her pace. Giving up, she decided to step to the side to create some distance. But the instant one of her feet touched the dirt, Ying Quhe pulled her back onto the bluestone path. His clear voice reached her ears: “Watch out for the mud. Stay on the path.”

“Mmh…”

The bluestone path felt as long as a full kilometer.

Water had seeped into Ulrica’s doghouse. Xi Mi pulled out the pillow inside and wrung out a handful of water. She spread the pillow over the ridge of the doghouse roof to dry, then turned around to see Ying Quhe standing under the eaves, studying the vegetable garden.

Xi Mi hadn’t expected Ying Quhe to grow vegetables in the backyard. Unfortunately, the garden had been completely ruined by a sudden downpour. Standing water flooded the area, cucumber and luffa trellises had collapsed in clumps, and vegetable leaves floated on the surface. Ying Quhe, who had originally intended to clean up the garden himself, felt instantly discouraged at the sight of the mess and dialed Zhou Ming’s number.

The garden sat on low ground, and likely due to the soil quality, water didn’t drain well. A small trench needed to be dug alongside it to channel the water out. Xi Mi found a shovel, took off her shoes, hitched up her skirt, and stepped into the water, starting to dig a trench to drain the flood.

“What are you doing?” Ying Quhe slipped his phone back into his pocket and frowned. “Get out of there right now!”

Xi Mi used the shovel to clear a trench, and the trapped water began flowing out. “There’s no need to call someone over such a small thing. Just digging a ditch to drain it is enough.”

Seeing her persistence, Ying Quhe set aside his aversion to the water and mud, stepping directly into the garden. Muddy water washed over his ankles, instantly flooding his leather shoes with cold, yellow sludge. He could already imagine how disgusting and miserable it would be inside his shoes in a moment.

He snatched the shovel from Xi Mi’s hands. “Get back up.”

Xi Mi stared at him blankly, pointing at the tool in his hand. “Do… do you even know how to use that?”

Under Ying Quhe’s sharp gaze, Xi Mi walked out barefoot and squatted on the concrete steps alongside Ulrica, watching Ying Quhe labor awkwardly in the garden. It was likely his first time using such a tool; he was far from skillful, taking three separate scoops to clear dirt that should have taken only one.

After draining the standing water, Ying Quhe walked up the steps and looked down at his mud-covered legs, reflecting that he had never been in such a pathetic state in his entire life. He propped the shovel casually against the wisteria trellis and looked up to see Xi Mi hugging her legs, sitting face-to-face with Ulrica. The girl wore a floral skirt and squatted barefoot on the ground, her legs caked in dried yellow mud below the calves.

Xi Mi curled her big toes slightly against the ground and cautiously reached out a hand. “Wolf King… let me just pet you once, just a tiny bit.”

Ulrica sat upright with her head held high and chest puffed out, staring down at her with majestic dignity.

The bright sunlight seemed like pillars of transparent crystal, refracting a soft warmth across Xi Mi. It was as though even her slender calves, covered in yellow mud, retained a natural, unpretentious beauty.

This natural, down-to-earth, pure beauty was like the most wholesome, rich flavor rolling across the tongue. Ying Quhe casually snapped off a few flower branches, wove them into two flower crowns, and walked over. He placed one on Ulrica’s head and slipped the other onto Xi Mi.

Xi Mi felt a sudden weight on her head. Just as she was about to look up at Ying Quhe, he barked, “Don’t move.”

The firm command stopped Ulrica in her tracks just as she was about to shake her head too.

Click.

The girl and the dog were captured by the camera against a red brick wall. Both person and canine wore purple flower crowns, the yellow mud on the dog’s paws matching the dried earth on the girl’s legs, creating a warm and down-to-earth picture.

Ying Quhe liked this photo very much.

Xi Mi leaned over and stood on tiptoe to see the photo. “That’s a really good shot. Send it to me.”

“Alright. Wash your legs first.”

Ying Quhe fetched a basin of clean water and had Xi Mi sit on the steps with her feet dipped inside. As Xi Mi rubbed the mud off her legs, the water turned murky right away. Ying Quhe fetched her another basin of clear water.

Just as Xi Mi stepped her feet into the clean water, Ulrica stepped in with her mud-caked paws and nuzzled her head between Xi Mi’s calves, making Xi Mi burst into giggles from the tickling.

Ying Quhe squatted down, hauled the strong dog out, and commanded in a low voice, “Sit properly.” Yet his hands pressed down inside the basin… resting right on the insteps of Xi Mi’s feet.

With her feet held down by him, Xi Mi didn’t dare move a muscle, staring blankly at him and the dog.

Ulrica stuck out her tongue and sat up straight. Glared at by Ying Quhe, the dog turned her head to dodge his gaze. Just as Xi Mi thought Ying Quhe would pull his hands back after scolding Ulrica, he turned around, reached into the water, and held her ankle, lifting her foot out. His thumb brushed against the prominent bone of her ankle. “You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?” Xi Mi pulled her skirt down slightly and looked down. A bright red scratch lined the inner flesh of her ankle. She hadn’t felt any pain at first, but the moment Ying Quhe touched it, a sharp sting surged up.

Ying Quhe fetched her sandals for her. “Put your shoes on and go inside.”

For a split second, she had thought Ying Quhe was going to put the shoes on for her.

As expected… she was overthinking things.

In the afternoon, Ying Quhe worked with the gardener trimming branches in the yard. Xi Mi sat cross-legged with Ulrica in front of the French window, watching the outside world while chatting with Ji Donglin.

Her head began to grow heavy and groggy again, to the point where she only sent back a brief reply for every ten messages Ji Donglin sent.

Ji Donglin: “Goddess, you’re being so distant. Please don’t be so cold when you come home with me, or Grandpa will see right through us QAQ”

Xi Mi coughed once and tried to keep typing, but a mist seemed to cloud her vision. Suddenly losing even the strength to type, she clutched her phone, sank onto the mat, and drifted off into a groggy sleep.

Receiving no reply, Ji Donglin called several times in a row. The noisy ringing made Xi Mi feel like smashing her phone underfoot. In her stupor, she felt Ulrica licking her face.

Then, a warm, broad palm rested gently yet firmly over her forehead.

Xi Mi’s recurring fever left Ying Quhe frantic with worry. After examining her, the doctor informed him, “Miss Xi’s constitution isn’t particularly strong to begin with. Those strikes with the club would have been tough on a grown man, let alone her. The physical trauma combined with catching a cold has caused her high fever to keep recurring.”

When Xi Mi woke up, she was already lying in bed.

She overheard the conversation between the doctor and Ying Quhe and asked limply, “When will I get better? Being sick like this, I can’t taste anything… and I have a competition the day after tomorrow.”

The doctor replied, “Just get some proper rest. Even after your fever breaks, your sense of taste won’t recover for at least half a month.”

His words startled Xi Mi. “Is it really that serious? But I still have the competition coming up! My sense of taste can’t go wrong!”

The doctor looked helpless as well. “Drink plenty of water and keep your diet light. Your sense of taste will gradually recover. Haste makes waste, so get some proper rest.”

After the doctor left, Xi Mi stared despondently at Ying Quhe, a damp mist welling up in her bright, dark eyes.

A heavy silence filled the room. Xi Mi hung her head in frustration. “I’m finished this time. Why did I have to fall sick right at a time like this? The competition is the day after tomorrow. What am I supposed to do?”

Ying Quhe felt equally conflicted.

From the start of the competition, he had been eagerly anticipating Xi Mi taking the championship. But just as she reached this hurdle, such an unexpected setback had occurred, and he knew that the one hurting the most right now was Xi Mi.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, reaching out to gently pull her head toward him. “It doesn’t matter. Even without your sense of taste, you still have your sense of smell. Don’t you rarely taste your dishes when you cook anyway? Your sense of smell and intuition are enough. Winning or losing the competition isn’t important; the process is what matters most.”

Xi Mi pulled a long face. “What if my sense of taste never comes back?”

“You don’t trust the doctor?”

Xi Mi’s gaze met his soft eyes, which held a warmth so profound it almost didn’t seem like him. That ambiguous tension from last night rushed up again like rising water.

While she was lost in thought, Ying Quhe cupped her face in both hands and slowly leaned down toward her. She nervously closed her eyes, but he merely bumped his forehead gently against hers to cheer her up. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. I can be your tongue.”

With his hands holding her cheeks, the trapped heat had nowhere to dissipate, leaving her face feeling practically scorched through.

Their foreheads pressed tightly together, his warm breath fanning across Xi Mi’s face. She opened her eyes, looking at him, and felt an uncontrollable urge to lean even closer, closer to the tip of his nose, and then his lips…

The urge made her feel like she was going a little mad. Fortunately, Ying Quhe quickly released her. She ducked her head as if fleeing, resting her hands on the quilt as she nervously twiddled her fingers. “What… do you mean?”