Chapter 107: Little Thoughts

Shen Qingyi stood watching his desk, perfectly put away and spotless, wondering whether he had gone to the office.

As they came out, Anan asked her, “Dad isn’t here, is he?”

“He probably went to hand in some work,” Shen Qingyi replied.

Even though she said so and believed as much, she still could not resist peering to either side from the doorway. Just as she was wondering to herself, a tall, elegant figure came into view.

When Lu Yan approached, Shen Qingyi asked him, “Where were you?”

“I went to the office to submit the materials,” he said.

Shen Qingyi gave him a look that was exactly what she had expected.

Lu Yan glanced at his wife standing at the door, and the corner of his lip lifted in a barely perceptible smile. “The dishes may have gone cold. I’ll heat them.”

The day before, when Shen Qingyi had gone to wash her hands, she had noticed a small kitchenette by the back-porch side. It had every utensil one could need, though it looked as if it had never been used at all.

Cleaning up that side would not be done in a moment, she thought, recalling how careless Lu Yan was with everything around the house.

“It isn’t cold now, and we just ate pastries a little while ago. Let’s just make do.”

Lu Yan was not a fussy man. He was mostly afraid she might feel uncomfortable in this place, so when she said that, he nodded in agreement.

After the three of them had eaten, Shen Qingyi went into the kitchen to wash the pans, bowls, and utensils, clattering them around noisily. The father and son in the next room heard every sound.

As Lu Yan had just stood up, Anan tugged his sleeve. “Don’t go. Mom says you don’t wash things clean.”

“How could I? Mom only doesn’t want you to because she thinks you’re not well,” Lu Yan explained, then sat down again, a little embarrassed.

Shen Qingyi tidied the kitchen and decided to go bathe. The bathroom was in Lu Yan’s room.

When she entered, Anan was already asleep, and Lu Yan sat at the desk reading. Shen Qingyi glanced at her son on the bed, then gently opened and closed the bathroom door, turned, and set the shower to its gentlest flow.

Lu Yan’s hand gripping the book was slightly stiff. Though he did not look at her, he could somehow sense every motion and expression of hers: the careful way she moved after seeing their sleeping son, the way she had glanced at him before stepping into the bathroom.

He could not help but look that way. The glass door was blurred by steam, all scene hidden beyond it, and his heart suddenly lost its rhythm.

A fine stream of water ended. The bathroom door opened a narrow slit. Lu Yan quickly lowered his gaze and forced his eyes back to the book.

“Lu Yan! Lu Yan!” Shen Qingyi called softly twice.

He lifted his eyes and came near. He caught the faint scent of soap on her. He saw his wife wrapped in a large bath towel. At once, he remembered the moment he had carried her out of the bathroom that other day; his Adam’s apple bobbed once before he whispered, “What is it?”

“I forgot to bring one piece of clothing. Can you help me find it?”

“What clothing?”

“A skin-toned undergarment, hanging under the eaves near the door.”

“All right.” Lu Yan replied in a low voice and did not look at her.

He went to the eaves and found no garment outside. Puzzled, he came back and asked, “Did you bring it inside and put it away? There’s nothing out there.”

Shen Qingyi thought for a moment. “Then look in my suitcase. If you can’t find the skin-toned one, take the purple one.”

Lu Yan returned to her suitcase and searched through it. Only the purple one was there.

It was just one piece of clothing, yet when he held it his cheeks felt warm. He stood by the bathroom door and knocked softly. “Qingyi, there’s only the purple one.”

His voice was very quiet.

The bathroom door opened a tiny crack again, and a slim, pale, delicate arm reached out. Lu Yan quietly passed the garment into her hand and returned to his place.

When he took up the book again, he could not focus at all. Sounds around him were somehow amplified: the zip of clothing, the click of the water heater turning off, her bare feet moving back and forth.

The bathroom door opened softly and Shen Qingyi stepped out. She looked at their son on the bed and was relieved she had not disturbed him.

Only when Shen Qingyi turned to leave did Lu Yan dare to look up at her. Long black hair lay loosely down her back, she wore a loose cotton nightgown, and her rounded heels rested on a pair of cheaply bought slippers. She looked relaxed and languid, nothing like the polished, distant version of her from daytime.

Shen Qingyi went to the sofa, pulled a blanket over her, switched off the light, and closed her eyes.

She had not slept long when a rustling sound drifted from the hall. She opened her eyes to see a shadow at the dining table, unwrapping something. She sat up at once. “Lu Yan!”

“Mm,” he answered softly.

Shen Qingyi turned on the light. “What are you doing?”

Lu Yan replied, “I forgot to take my medicine.”

“Then take it and go to bed early.”

He turned and came over. “I’m feeling a little unwell. I can’t sleep.”

“Where does it hurt?” Shen Qingyi asked, now concerned.

“It’s here.” He pointed to his chest.

“Is it serious?”

“A little. It’s just a twinging pain.”

Shen Qingyi squinted. The expression with which he lied was exactly like Anan’s—so earnest, so helplessly innocent.

After a long pause, Lu Yan saw her expression and hesitated, then insisted, “I’m telling you, it’s true.”

Shen Qingyi tilted her head. “So what do you want me to do—call the doctor, or just comfort you?”

Shen Qingyi was no fool. Since the day Lu Yan gave her that lip balm, she had known he had begun to care for her. She was afraid he might say or do something else to make her waver, and so she dared not stay too long at home.

Looking back, she had worried too much. His way of seeking attention was not much different from that of a four-year-old.

For a moment, it made her wonder if his title of Provincial Top Scholar was truly real.

But she had no idea that Lu Yan had never courted any woman, nor even watched or joined in when others did. With his nature and that small, newly awakened bit of romantic foolishness, could he really have only these simple thoughts?

Lu Yan felt vaguely guilty that she had seen through him, yet his face stayed firm. “At this hour, the doctor will surely be asleep.”

Shen Qingyi understood. Looking at Lu Yan’s sharp, handsome features, she suddenly found him a little adorable. She nodded and said seriously, “They say overtime and late nights can cause palpitations. But if you follow the doctor’s instructions properly, it should be fine. Since you’ve taken your medicine, go to sleep early.”

Lu Yan did not move.

Shen Qingyi looked at him. “What is it? Is there anything else?”

“Tomorrow I’ll have someone bring over a big bed so you don’t have to sleep outside. Is that okay?”

If it had been before his mother arrived, Shen Qingyi would have agreed without hesitation, but now that she had decided to divorce Lu Yan, she wondered what purpose there was in all this. It would only pull her deeper in.

“No,” she said. “It’s only two months. Better not bother anyone.”

At once Lu Yan’s eyes darkened, and this time his heart truly ached.