Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Nan Shuyi carried Jiang Yicen back to the temporary "wedding suite" the hotel had prepared for them.

He worked out regularly, so Jiang Yicen's weight was nothing to him. He carried Jiang Yicen into the room, kicked the door shut with one foot, shutting out the lively noise outside.

At this moment, Jiang Yicen's hands tightly clutched Nan Shuyi's formerly crisp suit jacket. His heart was racing, his whole body trembling and cold, accompanied by dizziness and ringing in his ears.

He just wanted to escape from the relentless sound of gunfire. He couldn't remember how many bullets had hit him, but he knew it really hurt back then.

After his lonely ghost arrived in this new world, he had been captivated by the modern age and thought he would gradually forget the images of his death. But he never expected to be terrified by sounds so similar to guns and cannons. He simply couldn't forget the endless stream of gunshots and the bullets that struck him.

Jiang Yicen was really struggling; he couldn't control the images crowding his mind.

The first bullet hit his knee, the second in his shoulder, the third, the fourth...

It hurts, it hurts so much.

Nan Shuyi set Jiang Yicen down on the bed and saw him breaking out in a cold sweat. "What's wrong? Is your blood sugar low?"

Jiang Yicen frowned deeply, pressing his forehead against Nan Shuyi. He clung to Nan Shuyi as if grasping a lifeline.

"It hurts so much."

Nan Shuyi asked him anxiously, rubbing his back gently. "Where does it hurt? Should I call a doctor? There's a doctor from a medical family among the guests. I'll have them come check on you."

Jiang Yicen shook his head. Listening to his voice, the images in his mind gradually faded. The sound of cannons disappeared, and he felt much better.

He managed to speak. "No, no need. I just need to rest a while."

Nan Shuyi wasn't comfortable with how he was doing, but he still chose to listen to Jiang Yicen. He knew his own body best.

"How about some hot water?"

"Mm."

Nan Shuyi poured hot water and held out the cup to Jiang Yicen. Noticing his hands were still shaking, afraid he couldn't hold it, he simply brought the cup to his lips. Jiang Yicen drank a couple of sips as Nan Shuyi held the cup. Because of the awkward angle, water trickled from the corner of his mouth, about to drip onto his collar. His hand moved faster than his mind, deciding for him—he reached up and dabbed the water from his lips.

Nan Shuyi noticed Jiang Yicen's pale lips, his heart clenching slightly, but he didn't think much of it.

After finishing about half a cup of hot water, Jiang Yicen's trembling symptoms eased. The ringing in his ears lessened, and the overwhelming fear that had been clinging to him like a shadow gradually receded.

Seeing the color return to Jiang Yicen's face, Nan Shuyi recalled that his symptoms had started right after the fireworks had exploded. He had a guess.

"Are you scared of the fireworks?"

Jiang Yicen's reaction was a bit slow. "Mm."

Actually, it wasn't that he couldn't bear the sound of gunfire or cannons. When bullets weren't hitting him, he only felt fear in his heart. But when he had faced being outnumbered—though he may have been brave in the moment—afterward, his whole body ached, and he didn't know how many bullets had struck him. That fear slowly magnified, turning into what it was now.

Nan Shuyi thought for a moment and understood. That's how it was in the US with its gun culture. Jiang Yicen had lived there alone for six years; he must have found it hard to adjust.

"Did you ever experience a shooting in the US?"

Jiang Yicen hadn't expected Nan Shuyi to arrive at that conclusion. He said vaguely, "Something like that."

He still couldn't elaborate. If he told Nan Shuyi that he had been through it, he might be pressed further. His mind was still foggy, and he didn't have the energy to make up an excuse, nor did he want to.

Nan Shuyi was tactful. Seeing that Jiang Yicen clearly didn't want to talk about it, he didn't press further. He understood that Jiang Yicen was probably suffering from PTSD triggered by gunshots.

Generally, only people who had been shot or had experienced war would react like this, but it wasn't impossible that Jiang Yicen had been terrified by a shooting in the US. He wondered just how horrible that shooting had been.

They often made jokes about US shootings, sometimes even over dinner with friends, but only those who had been through it knew how terrifying firearms really were.

Nan Shuyi grew a bit curious about Jiang Yicen's life in the US.

The Jiang family's business had indeed declined in recent years, but they still lived in a villa. There was no way they would let him stay in a poor neighborhood where you could hear gunshots every night.

This wasn't the time to talk about his six years studying abroad.

Nan Shuyi pulled open the silk quilt on the bed. "Rest for a while. I'll call you when it's time to go out and toast."

Jiang Yicen was indeed covered in cold sweat, and his legs were still weak. Going out to toast now would only be rude.

Nan Shuyi was about to leave, but found himself stopped—the corner of his shirt was tightly gripped by Jiang Yicen.

Jiang Yicen blinked slowly, looking at him with a pleading expression. "Can you stay with me for ten minutes?"

The stress reaction had taken a lot out of Jiang Yicen. Nan Shuyi saw that his face still lacked color and knew he couldn't be faking it.

"Okay. Rest and recover first, then we can proceed."

"Thank you."

Jiang Yicen gently closed his eyes. He let go of Nan Shuyi's shirt corner and grabbed the blanket instead. Nan Shuyi was close, and the scent of tea on him helped Jiang Yicen temporarily forget those terrifying memories.

The temporary "wedding suite" was a large suite. Jiang Yicen's head was still dizzy, and he couldn't recall whether it had been a high-ranking official or a celebrity who'd last stayed in this expensive suite.

Someone brought them clothes, the suits they needed for the next toast session.

The suites at Yongjiang Hotel were all spacious. Jiang Yicen couldn't quite make out what Nan Shuyi was saying to the person outside in the living room. Then, the person left, Nan Shuyi closed the door, and then he spoke in a low voice on the phone. Probably because Jiang Yicen was unwell and needed a moment to rest, Nan Shuyi lowered his voice, his magnetic tone soft and gentle, seeping into Jiang Yicen's ears and relaxing him further. It strangely became a lullaby.

He had gotten up early and been fussed over all morning. Unconsciously, with his eyes closed, Jiang Yicen really fell asleep.

He woke up half an hour later. His head wasn't dizzy, his body wasn't cold, his mind was clear, and his limbs moved normally.

He didn't see Nan Shuyi; he must have gone out on business.

A suit in his size was hanging in the living room. When they had been choosing suits, they had eliminated white. The designer had given them many color options, and finally they chose a light gray plaid suit. It wasn't too formal, relatively casual, and suitable for the toast occasion.

He changed into the suit, then found his phone.

Phones were wonderful things, and WeChat was wonderful too. Modern advanced technology created countless conveniences.

It turned out Nan Shuyi had already left him a message on WeChat. He thought, Nan Shuyi was a considerate person.

"Nan Shuyi: I'm going to get some food. Wake up and change clothes first. Don't leave the room yet."

"Jiang Yicen: I'm awake."

Replying like this on WeChat felt like something very intimate. In the past, even with close family or close friends, he had rarely had such exchanges.

From today onward, he and Nan Shuyi would be closer than family, a bond even surpassing kinship—the closest person to him in this new world.

He had grown up studying the classics with his maternal grandfather, had little exposure to romantic relationships, and had never thought about close relationships with others. Later, when his fiancée called off the engagement, he felt even more relieved. He had never had any feelings for the fiancée he had never met since childhood; calling off the engagement was the best outcome.

Later, war descended upon the city of Lincheng. No one knew if they would live to see tomorrow. Many things happened. After his family members passed away one by one, the family business fell into his hands. He learned from scratch, staying up late to study, squeezing every hour out of twenty-five. There was simply no room for matters of love.

He was even still uncertain—could he really accept a man?

At this moment, his mind was filled with images of Nan Shuyi’s handsome face, and his voice could even help him sleep. Living with him was not impossible—he could accept it.

Back in their time, he knew many famous people who actually preferred men, yet they still married women and had children, and no one ever spoke of it. In that era, most people were more open-minded than Jiang Gongming, with a higher degree of acceptance.

In the face of survival, there was no need to cage oneself with so many rules—those were rules invented only by people with too much time on their hands.

Having finally made it to live in an era without war, being able to live safely and soundly was enough; any way was fine.

Less than three minutes after he sent the message, the door opened. Nan Shuyi was holding a tray with two bowls of noodles—one light and elegant, the other piled high with chili oil and red pepper.

Nan Shuyi set the noodles on the table: "Have a bite to tide you over."

Jiang Yicen was indeed hungry, so he didn’t stand on ceremony and reached for the plain bowl.

Nan Shuyi then picked up his own bowl.

Noodles were easy to digest and could be eaten quickly.

Nan Shuyi ate very fast. Jiang Yicen was a bit slower than him, but still much quicker than when he had drunk the soup earlier.

Jiang Yicen had eaten until only a small half bowl was left when he set down his chopsticks. He usually wouldn’t waste food, but it seemed he had passed the point of hunger and couldn’t eat another bite.

Nan Shuyi asked him, "Not eating anymore?"

Jiang Yicen hesitated, still wanting to force himself to finish: "I’m a bit full. It would be a waste not to finish it."

The Jiang family had indeed been wealthy and noble in Lincheng, but he had been raised to cherish food—whatever was placed before him had to be finished.

After the war, Jiang Yicen treasured every single grain of rice even more.

Seeing him struggle to force himself to eat, Nan Shuyi moved the small half bowl in front of himself: "If you can’t eat, then don’t."

Jiang Yicen was surprised by his action: "I’ve already eaten from it."

Nan Shuyi chuckled softly: "What are we doing today?"

Jiang Yicen understood instantly, and finally a hint of color returned to his cheeks. He said softly, "Getting married."

They were getting married today. Could their relationship really be closer than yesterday?

Nan Shuyi used his chopsticks twice, and most of the noodles were gone, then one more bite emptied it, leaving only the clear broth.

Just then, someone came to urge them to go out and toast the guests. The banquet had already started fifteen minutes ago, and more than half the dishes had been served—it was at its liveliest moment.

The two returned to the banquet hall. The feast was underway, and the MC had just finished a round of interaction with friends on stage.

Jiang Yicen followed closely behind Nan Shuyi. Both sets of parents were also arranged to go on stage, where they toasted the guests together.

Then Nan Anru led Nan Shuyi and Jiang Yicen to toast the elders one by one. In truth, their glasses contained only water, so they wouldn’t get drunk.

The toasting part wasn’t long—with so many guests, it was just a formality. The real trouble came from Nan Shuyi’s group of friends. They immediately replaced his water with alcohol. The elders, out of respect for the young groom, wouldn’t call them on it, but friends had no such scruples. They were determined to get Nan Shuyi drunk, and some even wanted to get Jiang Yicen drunk.

"Fourth Master, we’re all men here—how can you not drink? Come, come! Wishing you two a lifetime of happiness!"

It was meant as a blessing.

Jiang Yicen, being flattered like this, found it hard to refuse. This guy really knew how to talk.

"Alright," Jiang Yicen didn’t intend to refuse. He picked up the small shallow cup and was about to down it in one gulp.

After becoming the owner of Yongjiang Hotel, he had trained himself from being a teetotaler to toasting difficult guests without changing his expression.

Alcohol was hard to swallow—he didn’t like it.

His father was gone, his mother was gone, his brothers were gone too—everything had to be borne on his own shoulders.

Here, he was only here for a marriage alliance. Old Master Jiang treated him like a pawn, and Madam Jiang didn’t care about her son—he still had to carry it all alone.

He raised his glass: "I’ll drink it all."

But at that moment, a warm hand grasped his wrist. The glass changed direction mid-air, and Nan Shuyi bent down and drank the wine from the cup in his hand.

Nan Shuyi smiled at the group, with narrowed, smiling eyes: "No one is allowed to force him to drink today."

The group of friends immediately started cheering.

"Find yourself a husband like Master Nan—he’s already protecting him!"

"Max boyfriend energy!"

"Nan Shuyi, if I had known you liked men, I would have volunteered back then and asked you to drink for me when we went out drinking."

Nan Shuyi shot back two words: "Get lost."

Amid the lively chatter of the crowd, Jiang Yicen’s heart was unusually calm. He kept his eyes on Nan Shuyi.

This man had taken the drink for him.

This man had become his husband.

He thought he was probably lucky.