Chapter 28 They

Chapter 28: Them

The late spring night was deep, yet the sky was clear—a deep blue tinged with wisps of smoky white. Nights like this reminded her of Yakeshi.

Mou Wen sat on the wide bay window in Xie Chong's bedroom, her hair still damp, water dripping onto the front of her shirt. The sound of rushing water came from the bathroom. Mou Wen blushed, curiosity getting the better of her, and she tiptoed over to hear what he was doing in there.

Xie Chong had just finished showering. Spotting a sneaky silhouette on the bathroom door's frosted glass, he walked over and yanked the door open.

Mou Wen jumped back in shock, staring at Xie Chong's bare chest. It took her a second to remember the whole "don't look at what you shouldn't see" thing, and she made a show of covering her eyes with her hand.

Xie Chong was caught between annoyance and amusement. He threw on a bathrobe and went to shave.

Mou Wen lowered her hand and followed him, leaning halfway through the doorway to watch: "Why are you shaving at night? Are you gonna shave again tomorrow morning?"

Xie Chong didn't usually shave at night—he was just looking for something to do. So when Mou Wen asked, he said, "I shave like ten times a day."

"It grows that fast?" Mou Wen asked again.

Xie Chong's hand froze on the razor. He cursed under his breath, then turned and shut the door. Mou Wen, locked out, wasn't deterred. She tapped softly on the door and said, "I wanna watch you shave."

Xie Chong ignored her. When he came out, he asked, "Aren't you going to blow-dry your hair?"

"The hairdryer in the guest bathroom... it broke," Mou Wen said. "I was using it and it shorted out."

"Wait, didn't you buy that hairdryer?" Xie Chong asked.

"No, seriously, I didn't. We don't offer hairdryer-purchasing services," Mou Wen replied earnestly.

Xie Chong gestured for her to use the one in the master bath. He wanted something to drink.

As he walked out, he noticed Mou Wen's luggage still sat untouched in the corner. Only one backpack was open, probably holding her clothes for the night.

She had so little stuff.

Earlier that day, he'd helped her move. Her luggage had taken up barely a third of her little bed. The gifts he'd given her were packed separately in a box, each little box padded with old rags or bubble wrap.

"These can't get dropped—if they break, I'd be heartbroken," Mou Wen had said, hugging the box of gifts. "I used to imagine using these in a nice, safe home where I'd stay for a long time."

"If they break, we can just buy new ones," Xie Chong said.

"It's not the same."

Her landlady must have been pretty old. During the handover, she kept giving Mou Wen and Xie Chong these knowing looks, clearly spinning some wild story in her head.

She had so few belongings, it seemed like she could leave at any second.

She had, however, found a spot for her computer—on the desk in his study. That clunky thing, with a few reference books next to it.

Mou Wen came out after drying her hair and saw Xie Chong pacing the living room like a beast surveying its territory.

"Why haven't you unpacked your stuff yet?" Xie Chong asked.

"I don't know where to put anything..." Mou Wen said.

"There are like a million rooms—just pick one. What do you mean you don't know where to put stuff? This whole house can't fit your few little bags?" Xie Chong pointed: "Unpack it now."

"Fine, okay."

Mou Wen picked the biggest guest room. She loved that room—when they were renovating, Xie Chong had told her to decorate it however she wanted, so she'd gone with little floral curtains.

She loved those curtains—on sunny days they seemed to glow, all dreamy and soft.

Xie Chong stood in the doorway watching her unpack.

Mou Wen's suitcase didn't have any expensive clothes, but her youth made everything look good, so nothing looked cheap.

She was happy with them herself, humming as she hung up her clothes, clearly in a great mood.

Xie Chong asked if she wanted some wine. She said sure—"Is this what they call the wedding cup wine?" Xie Chong said it was more like the last supper wine.

He opened a bottle of red and sat with her on the couch.

They each took one end of the couch. As they drank, Mou Wen started inching toward him.

Xie Chong put his feet on her thighs and, with a little push, "sent" her back.

"Hey!" Mou Wen protested. "You wouldn't let me kiss you before—now that we're married, you still won't?"

Xie Chong just stared at her, wondering how much of her wanting to kiss him was real.

Mou Wen stared back.

She tried to copy his look—fiercer, more dominant, more like she wanted to eat him—but she couldn't pull it off. She couldn't be like him. The moment she looked at him, she wanted to laugh.

She felt pure joy, like an anime girl whose eyes turn into pink hearts when she sees a hot guy. She simply couldn't contain it.

She was happy about the house too. It was spacious and bright, and everything in it was beautiful. Mou Wen was already thinking: tomorrow she'd hit the flower market, grab a bunch of plants and cute little knickknacks, and dress the place up even more.

She giggled like an idiot, squeezed her way in front of Xie Chong, and plopped down on his lap facing him.

The alcohol was kicking in. Her head felt slightly dizzy, but Xie Chong looked even more pleasing to the eye. Something seemed to be scratching at her heart—ticklish, soft, one beat at a time.

"Xie Chong, Xie Chong." She cupped his face, calling his name with a silly grin, so overwhelmed with affection that she couldn't help but kiss his lips.

Her eyes curved into crescents.

Xie Chong finally reached out and wrapped his arms around her. Before he could even tighten his hold, she'd already leaned in closer on her own.

His gaze deepened.

She felt something beneath her, pressing uncomfortably. "What's that?" she mumbled, reaching down to touch it, but he grabbed her hand. With a pull of his arm, she settled firmly. His eyes darkened.

Mou Wen let out a soft "ah" as Xie Chong silenced her with a kiss.

The faint taste of wine on his tongue passed into her mouth. She couldn't resist taking a sip, but her tongue was swept away by his.

She grew dizzier, feeling like something was off everywhere. Mumbling, she said, "Xie Chong, I'm not comfortable... I feel awful..."

Xie Chong paused and felt her forehead—not hot, but her cheeks were burning. She grabbed his hand, unsure where to put it, and finally slipped it under her pajama top.

Looking down, she saw a small mound rising at her chest. His palm was so warm that she let out a soft moan.

Still uncomfortable.

She couldn't quite say where.

But Xie Chong wasn't being still—he shifted upward, and with a startled "ah," she collapsed against his shoulder. She felt him. Then she remembered what her health class teacher had said, and she understood exactly what that was.

She didn't need to touch it to sense its size. Her mind was a jumble, thinking about custom furniture needing to fit perfectly—a huge cabinet could never fit into a cramped corner.

And him? What about him? Would that work? She tried to measure it, but she had no idea how. She felt a bit frustrated and annoyed: "What the heck! Are you made of wood?"

That remark set Xie Chong off. He suddenly scooped her up and headed toward the bedroom. His phone rang at the worst possible time, and he reached to throw it, but little Pixiu suddenly came to her senses and stopped him, saying, "Don't throw that! It costs a fortune!"

He dropped her onto the bed, took two deep breaths to get his breathing back under control, and answered the phone, annoyed: "What?"

Qian Song on the other end gave a sly chuckle and was just about to ask something when Xie Chong hung up on him and turned off the phone.

Xie Chong tore off his pajamas roughly, practically ripping the buttons off, and flung the clothes aside before he reached Mou Wen.

Mou Wen stared at him, dazed.

He stared at Mou Wen, dazed.

Neither of them knew who started it, but their lips met again. The kiss was like a soft drizzle, falling gently over them. Mou Wen's skin prickled with goosebumps from nerves. She whispered, "I'm cold," and the blanket swallowed them whole.

Xie Chong felt like a balloon blown up too much, about to pop.

Mou Wen's voice came from under the blanket, on the verge of tears: "Slow down." She said, "Slow down. Not there... wuwu..."

In that one ordinary moment, something pierced her dark world, and a flood of bright light rushed in.

It hurt. She was on the verge of tears: "It hurts."

Xie Chong must not love her, or else why would it hurt so much? She started crying, soft sobs escaping her. Xie Chong didn't dare keep going, pulling the blanket down, and in the dim light of the night lamp, he saw her tears spill from the corners of her eyes into her hairline.

He suddenly felt like he'd done something wrong—why else would she be so upset?

He instinctively tried to pull back, but she held onto him again.

"Don't move," she said. "Don't leave."

He didn't move, didn't leave, and had no idea what to do. She looked at him, eyes brimming with tears, brows slightly knit, and tentatively explored on her own, softly.

"Like this?" he echoed her, asking softly, "Is this better for you?"

Mou Wen nodded.

His hand covered her tear-filled eyes, while his gaze locked onto her lips. Her mouth was more honest than her tears—her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip, low moans slipping from her throat.

He was starting to get it.

When he went harder, her lips would part; when he went softer, they'd close again. And her tongue would flick in and out between her slightly parted lips.

He was drenched in sweat.

His sweat dripped onto her lips, and she instinctively stuck out her tongue to catch it, but he caught her tongue instead. He got rougher, and she shoved at him hard, crying even harder.

She didn't know why she was crying. The discomfort was gone, replaced by a strange sensation. That feeling scared her; she felt like she was dying, slapping and pushing him one second, then clinging to him the next.

She felt like she wasn't herself anymore.

The sounds she made weren't hers, and being under his control wasn't her either. Her body wouldn't obey her brain, trembling on its own—that wasn't her either.

She didn't know when she finally calmed down. When she did, she turned to look at Xie Chong, who seemed to have stayed calm the whole time.

"Did I drink too much?" she said. "Xie Chong, I feel dizzy."

Xie Chong stayed quiet, getting up to get her some water.

The cup he brought had a straw in it. She was unusually fragile, gulping down half a cup of water through the straw.

Xie Chong looked at her eyes, swollen from crying, and asked, "Was it really that bad?"

"What?" Mou Wen didn't understand what he was asking.

"Nothing," Xie Chong said no more.

He put on his pajamas and lay flat on the bed, hearing rustling sounds beside him. He turned to look—Mou Wen was getting dressed.

The dim light of the night lamp illuminated half her body, her disheveled hair shimmering softly.

He just watched her, watched her finish dressing, expecting her to lie down, but she moved to get off the bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm afraid you won't sleep well," Mou Wen said. "I'll sleep in the guest room."

She didn't know how to face him. She had thought there would be some conversation between them after it was over. Chu Ling had said that after her first time with Mr. A, the two of them had discussed it for a long time.

Mou Wen asked what they discussed.

Chu Ling was a bit embarrassed: "Just about whether it was good, what to do next time... When you like someone, you naturally care about each other's feelings."

Mou Wen wanted to discuss it with Xie Chong too. She had thought of topics, but she felt Xie Chong didn't want to discuss it. He seemed so passive.

She even felt he was forcing himself to go along with this relationship with her.

Mou Wen tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Xie Chong tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

They both lay awake, listening to the sounds outside, wondering what kind of noise the person who had unexpectedly entered their lives would make after their first intimacy, but it was quiet outside.

The whole night was quiet.

Xie Chong didn't know when he fell asleep. When he opened his eyes, it was already nine o'clock. As he went to get water, he heard the sound of frying in the kitchen—sizzling, crackling—an unusual bustle.

His heart was suddenly bathed in golden light, warm. He walked slowly to the kitchen and saw Mou Wen making breakfast.

A small enamel pot simmered with porridge, two plates of beautifully arranged side dishes sat on the counter, and in a small flat pan, half was frying dumplings and half was frying eggs.

As for her, her hair was tied up in a high bun, with a few loose strands falling on her neck. Earphones were in her ears, her phone in her pajama pocket, and she was gently swaying to some unknown song.

When Mou Wen had opened her eyes, she was flooded with a faint sense of contentment and happiness. She had forgotten Xie Chong's "coldness" from last night, feeling that a wonderful life was unfolding before her.

She wanted to make this life good, to love Xie Chong well and love herself well.

Xie Chong stepped forward and tapped her shoulder. She was startled and turned to look at him.

His stubble had grown, his usually clean face now showing a hint of dark stubble.

She took out her earphones and said, "You really do need to shave ten times a day."

"A hundred times," Xie Chong sniffed. "My little Cinderella."

Mou Wen felt that dawn had broken, and Xie Chong had returned to being the person who wasn't distant. She leaned toward him and said, "Scratch me."

"What?" Xie Chong asked.

Mou Wen raised her right shoulder to reach for the back of her right ear, where it itched a little. But her hands were full, and she didn't want to move, so she asked Xie Chong to scratch it for her.

"What a pain." Xie Chong said as he reached over and scratched behind her ear. She let out a contented sigh, then noticed that Xie Chong's hand hadn't moved away.

His fingertips caught her earlobe, gently kneading it.

Mou Wen's face turned bright red. She couldn't guess what Xie Chong was up to and stood there, frozen. When she felt her earlobe being taken between his soft, moist lips, she instinctively hunched her shoulders and leaned into his embrace.

His arms were so wide and warm.

Mou Wen closed her eyes.

"Burning." Xie Chong said. "It's going to burn." He chuckled and turned away, in a great mood because the kitchen felt alive, even whistling a tune.

Home.

Both his grandma and his nana said his parents weren't the type to make a real home—they only knew how to make money and never really made a home for their kid.

"Can you build a home?" he had asked as a child.

"Of course." his grandmother said. "It's like building a house—brick by brick, room by room, you put together a little house. A home is the same. Two people, one room, cooking together and chatting..."

Xie Chong listened to the sounds from the kitchen and smelled the fragrance of rice porridge, feeling like he finally had a home. He didn't know how to build a home, but he knew that "building a home" required spending money, so he decided to leave that task to Mou Wen. She was smart—she'd probably be better at it than him.

When the breakfast table was all set, Xie Chong handed Mou Wen a card.

"What's this?" Mou Wen asked.

"Household money." Xie Chong said. "I'll put fifty thousand in it every month. If it's not enough, just tell me."

"How much?" Mou Wen asked in disbelief.

"Fifty thousand." Xie Chong said. "You don't need to buy anything big. If you want to buy something big, just tell me. This fifty thousand is for the house. If it's not enough, tell me. I don't know how much is enough."

Fifty thousand. Oh my god. Mou Wen was about to cry: she'd been working for less than a year, and even busting her ass every month, she'd never made fifty thousand. After all her careful planning, her year-end bonus was seventy thousand. How could Xie Chong be so free with his money?

When Xie Chong saw she wasn't responding, he said, "If you don't want it, if you feel insulted—"

Mou Wen slapped her hand over his as he moved to take the card back, and said, "It's enough, it's enough."

She remembered what Chu Ling said to her: you're both building this relationship together—he puts in money, and you put in other things. Mou Wen had already accepted that idea. Xie Chong put in the money, and for now, she would transform their home.

She accepted it, feeling at peace.

After breakfast, Xie Chong was heading out, and Mou Wen followed him around, watching him get dressed. She'd always thought he put a lot of effort into his outfits, but that day she saw he just grabbed clothes off the rack and threw them on. So effortless, and yet so good-looking.

As pretty as a peacock.

Xie Chong finished dressing and looked at her: "Oh, right. There's more than fifty thousand on that card—it's for you to buy clothes."

"I don't need it." Mou Wen said.

"You do." Xie Chong paused, then said, "Buy some nice clothes. Don't go to that Zoo Market—go to the mall, buy quality stuff."

"Oh."

He left, and Mou Wen was alone in the house.

She paced through the big house, sometimes skipping a step or two, going in and out, walking for a long time.

This is our home.

This is the home of me and Xie Chong.

Her heart was filled with joy, like a delighted child.

Then she thought: too bad I can't stay home every day—I still have a lot to do. Mou Wen had to work on Mr. Chu's renovation, her posts on the website were starting to get responses, and someone had added her on QQ. She needed to learn to drive, and she had to read some professional books...

But before all that, she wanted to visit the flower and bird market.

She took the bus out, the March sunlight falling on her face, still listening to music and feeling drowsy.

Her good times had come, slow and easy.

Xie Chong seemed to think so too.