Tang Qiu laughed. “So what if he’s handsome? There are many attractive people in this world; can I possibly fall for them all?”
“But he likes you. Have you seen the way he looks at you? You can’t have not noticed.”
“Drop it. Do you think I could be happy with someone like him? He slept with another woman right after he confessed to me. If this is what his feelings are worth, I don’t want him. My husband isn’t good-looking, but I trust that he would never cheat on me–and that’s enough.”
It wasn’t that Xie Qingqing thought Ning Mufan’s character was anything to boast about—he had, after all, been willing to sleep with someone like Niu Caijie–but as a prospective partner, he was still leaps and bounds better than Jiang Shaocheng. “How are you so certain?”
“Because my husband is disabled,” Tang Qiu replied instantly. “There’s nothing for me to worry about.”
“Right. I forgot. Poor girl. You’re stuck with a husband who can’t please you. Listen to me, Tang Qiu: a couple’s relationship, when deprived of intimacy, can’t possibly blossom. As time goes by, you’ll start feeling emptier and emptier…”
Jiang Shaocheng’s jaw tightened. Just wait. He would show Tang Qiu what ‘intimacy’ was–in due time.
***
In the afternoon, Tang Qiu returned home, eager to see her husband–only to find him chatting and laughing with another woman. Her heart skipped a beat, and her smile dropped. She stood at the door, watching them in silence.
“You’re back, Qiu,” Jiang Shaocheng called. “Ke Liuyi made some pastries, come try them.”
Her husband used to wait for her at the door when she came home. The sight of him enjoying pastries with another woman birthed a niggling feeling in Tang Qiu’s gut.
She took a bite of the pastry he offered her, and a spark entered her eyes despite herself. “I didn’t know you were such a skilled baker too,” she told Ke Liuyi. Her praise was genuine; such treats had been a rarity in the past, and the tasty dessert helped soothe her slightly.
“Thank Shaocheng,” Ke Liuyi said, never blinking. “Back then, he didn’t have much appetite. As his doctor, I had to find a way to coax him to eat.”
Tang Qiu barely heard her words as she polished off the pastry and reached for another one. Jiang Shaocheng stopped her. “I asked you to try the pastries, not keep devouring them. You shouldn’t eat too many snacks before dinner.”
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Tang Qiu’s hand dropped reluctantly. “I’ll go prepare dinner, then.”
She hadn’t risen to the bait. Ke Liuyi extinguished her temper before it could spring to life, like the errant spark of a flame. “I’ve already made dinner, Mrs Shaocheng,” she replied with an affable smile.
“… Oh. In that case, thank you.” Tang Qiu still didn’t think it was right for Ke Liuyi to trouble herself, but she let it slide for now. “Do call me Qiu instead, Doctor Ke. ‘Mrs Shaocheng’ sounds a little strange.”
“As you wish.” Ke Liuyi pretended to cast a helpless smile at Jiang Shaocheng. Look, this woman doesn’t want to be referred to as your wife. Still think she’s good enough for you? “You don’t have to be so polite around me, Qiu. I just hope you don’t despise my cooking.”
“Of course not.” In fact, the aroma wafting from the table full of dishes was incredibly appetizing.
“I’ve also already prepared the cutlery and cleaned up the kitchen. Why don’t you take a seat, Qiu?”
Before Tang Qiu could respond, Jiang Shaocheng pulled her towards a chair. “Just relax,” he said. “She had the time on her hands, anyway.”
His remark made Liu Keyi’s heart bleed, a small but swift trickle. I’m doing all this for you, she thought.
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Not that Jiang Shaocheng would have cared, even if he knew.
After dinner, Tang Qiu consulted a diagram of human anatomy in her textbook and asked, “Dear, how are your legs now?”
“I’m starting to feel a little sensation in them.”
Tang Qiu’s eyes lit up. Abandoning her book, she squatted beside his wheelchair and pinched his legs. “How about this? Do you feel anything?”
He stared at her, words failing him.