Even if she didn't remember him, it was okay.
He only wanted her to be safe.
Being with someone like him wouldn't make her happy either.
"I have my own plans. Thank you, Shuheng," he said flatly, his eyes filled with an almost imperceptible gratitude that quickly vanished.
Song Shuheng composed himself, snorted, clenched his fists, and left with a belly full of anger.
He was a stubborn mule!
Forget it. He wouldn't worry about him anymore.
Song Shuheng never understood what made Chang Xuyu so worthy of Yi Zhuo's madness, how he would give her his very heart and soul. But she had this illness, gradually erasing the part of her memory about Yi Zhuo. The two of them were caught in this tangled mess, and he didn't know what they were hoping to achieve.
Shortly after Song Shuheng left, Chang Xuyu came out of the kitchen carrying a small pot of egg noodles. She looked around and saw only Yi Zhuo. "Where's Dr. Song?"
"He just left."
Yi Zhuo walked over to take the small pot from her hand. The aroma of egg noodles filled the air, and he smiled. "Smells good."
Chang Xuyu curved her lips and went to get bowls and chopsticks.
The two sat at the dining table eating slowly. Chang Xuyu swallowed a mouthful of noodles, poked the bottom of the bowl with her chopsticks, and said softly, "I know how to make very few dishes. What else do you want to eat? I can look it up online."
The man buried his head in his noodles and didn't say anything.
He ate quickly, but with good table manners. He finished a bowl in a few bites, put down his chopsticks, and asked her flatly, "Xuyu, are you apologizing to me?"
Chang Xuyu didn't look at him. She stared at the noodles in her bowl and pursed her lips, which was considered an admission.
His expression darkened. He looked down at his watch and furrowed his brows slightly.
"I have to go to the factory this afternoon. Don't wait for me tonight. Rest early."
Yi Zhuo didn't look at her again. He picked up his bowl and walked toward the kitchen. The sound of running water rushed out.
Chang Xuyu shrugged and pursed her lips, not knowing what she had said wrong.
She just wanted to apologize for what had happened earlier. He wasn't obligated to be her emotional trash can.
Thinking this, Chang Xuyu stood up, turned around, and said to him, "Then I'll go with you."
The man's movements stopped.
He came to his senses and refused flatly, "No need. I do mostly physical work. It's dusty and not very clean. You won't be comfortable."
"I don't have a phobia of dirt."
She pouted, her fingers picking at the corner of the tablecloth as she explained softly.
"It's just normal art work. Usually in the studio, who doesn't get charcoal dust and paint on them? What's the big deal?"
Yi Zhuo silently arranged the bowls and plates, straightened his back, and stared straight at her, his expression unreadable.
After a long moment, he walked out, glanced at her briefly, and headed for the room without looking back, throwing out a single word: "As you wish."
Chang Xuyu stood frozen, watching his back, puzzled as to why he was so resistant to her going to his workplace.
Sculpture...
Sometimes it was laughable when she thought about it. He didn't understand romance, was taciturn, practical, and rigid—yet he chose this kind of career.
But he did have talent, and he was strong and fit, making him very suitable for this line of work.
She followed him, pursed her lips, and gently hooked his hand with two slender fingers. Her almond eyes blinked as she said softly, "I really want to see where you work..."
The man's breath caught.
Author's note:
Recently, people around me, including myself, have been having sore throats and sneezing. We thought it was a cold, but it turns out the pollen count here has gone through the roof.