【018 I’m actually quite happy】
“But I’m willing to listen.”
“But we’re still different.”
“Being different doesn’t mean we can’t coexist. Everyone is different. Besides, people change. As time goes by, we’ll become more and more alike. There’s scientific evidence for that.”
“But I don’t want to change. I think everyone should retain their own unique qualities, rather than compromising themselves to change.”
“There’s no compromise involved. It’s a natural truth, and I’m quite happy about it.”
“But you still won’t listen to me talk about my ex-boyfriend.”
“Because I’m not that magnanimous.”
Almost as soon as Zhuang Yiyi finished speaking, Chen Ding replied. It seemed to slip out, yet his tone remained unchanged from before.
Those jet-black pupils simply kept staring at Zhuang Yiyi. The sunlight was still bright, and the room was clearly quiet, yet Zhuang Yiyi’s heartbeat couldn’t help but quicken. It was as though Chen Ding’s calm, deep eyes held an irresistible allure.
Zhuang Yiyi suddenly thought of a question and asked, “Why did you agree to marry me?”
“I’ll tell you: I fell for you at first sight. Do you believe me?”
Zhuang Yiyi shook her head.
Chen Ding joked, “Why wouldn’t I fall for you at first sight? Do you think you’re not worth me falling for at first sight?”
“That’s not it…”
“That’s all that matters,” Chen Ding emphasised earnestly. “I really did fall for you at first sight.”
Zhuang Yiyi recalled the scene from their blind date: it had been quite ordinary—an ordinary little café, an ordinary day. She’d been dressed quite plainly, with just a touch of make-up, perhaps looking a little fresher than usual. But surely that wasn’t enough to make Chen Ding fall for her at first sight.
Chen Ding must have seen women far more beautiful than her.
“Darling…” Chen Ding’s voice suddenly dropped to a husk. Zhuang Yiyi looked up at him, and the atmosphere instantly grew charged with a hint of intimacy, all because of the look in his eyes.
An untimely ringtone shattered the faintly lingering tension.
Chen Ding watched as she answered the phone. “I’ll go and get changed.”
Zhuang Yiyi nodded.
It was Han Rong on the line.
Han Rong asked, “Are you going back tonight?”
“Yes. I have to work tomorrow. Why?”
“When are you leaving? Could I get a ride? I’m planning to soak in a hot spring before heading back, but this place is too remote—I can’t get a lift. I’ve got a meeting to attend tomorrow.”
“Sure. Is he coming back?”
“He’s not coming back.”
Han Rong’s stiff tone made Zhuang Yiyi sense something was wrong. “Did you have a fight?
“Not really. He was just ranting on his own.” Han Rong explained why they’d argued: they’d been out for a stroll, and she’d accidentally mentioned her ex-boyfriend, which made the young intern jealous, and they’d ended up arguing.
“……I’ve really come to realise it: he’s young, fit, but far too immature. It’s hard to have both youth and maturity, isn’t it?”
Zhuang Yiyi was still dwelling on Han Rong’s explanation that the argument had started because of her ex-boyfriend, and then she thought of Chen Ding’s reaction. Although he might be reluctant, he would calmly voice his thoughts. Just like before, Chen Ding was always looking for a solution…
Zhuang Yiyi suddenly snapped out of it. Why was she speaking up for Chen Ding?
No, it wasn’t speaking up; it was stating the facts.
“…Isn’t dating all about having fun? Arguing over things you can’t change isn’t dating at all; it’s just asking for trouble. Don’t you agree?”
Zhuang Yiyi had no idea how Han Rong had got onto this subject; she replied half-heartedly, “Right.”
“Alright. I won’t disturb you two. Give me a shout when you’re heading back.”
Chen Ding closed the bedroom door as he went to the bathroom to change. He had no idea when Zhuang Yiyi had finished her phone call. About half an hour later, he knocked on the door.
The door opened, and he asked, “Finished your call?”
Chen Ding had thrown on a bathrobe—a sheer one—through which his pectoral muscles were faintly visible, as were the abs peeking out below. Zhuang Yiyi looked away, her face flushing slightly, and turned to Chen Ding. “Han Rong said she’ll be coming back with us tonight.”
“Right. What about the other one?”
“He’s not coming back.” Noticing Chen Ding raise an eyebrow, Zhuang Yiyi said, “They’ve had a fight.
“Why did they have a fight?”
Zhuang Yiyi felt that the reason for the argument was far too pointed for her and Chen Ding at that moment. She said, “Personal matters. Shall we watch a film first? I’m not really in the mood for the hot springs just yet.”
Chen Ding agreed.
“What shall we watch?” Chen Ding fiddled with the remote control at random; the curtains had already been drawn, and only the projection screen glowed.
“I don’t know. What do you fancy?”
Chen Ding browsed casually. “Shameless?”
Zhuang Yiyi hadn’t seen it. “Sure. I’ve never seen it before.”
Zhuang Yiyi hadn’t just never seen it; she’d never even heard of it. So when the explicit scenes appeared on the screen, she stared in shock, her eyes wide. It wasn’t so much the explicit content itself, but the fact that this was actually being shown? And it hadn’t been censored in China?
She turned to glance at Chen Ding, who was intently watching the screen. Sensing her gaze, he asked, “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”
“Not at all. I just didn’t expect it to be uncut.”
Chen Ding smiled. “Even if it were cut, where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Zhuang Yiyi chuckled softly. “That’s true.”
The plot unfolded step by step, building to a climax—the sound of an untimely kiss echoed through the quiet, dark room. Only then did Zhuang Yiyi feel awkward. She stood up awkwardly, only to have Chen Ding grab her wrist; his hand was so warm it felt almost scorching.
“Where are you going?” Chen Ding asked.
“To the bathroom.
“Will you come back?”
“I’ll… come back.” Zhuang Yiyi wasn’t sure; she wanted to wait until this awkward scene had finished before returning.
The grip on her wrist suddenly tightened, and Zhuang Yiyi was pulled forward by the force, falling into Chen Ding’s arms. A deep, husky voice sounded in her ear, accompanied by scorching breath. “Don’t go.”
It was Chen Ding who had initiated it. Zhuang Yiyi did not refuse.
The television on the screen continued to play as usual; the sun slowly sank in the sky, and the moon rose.
Zhuang Yiyi leaned against the hot spring, her body from the chest down completely submerged in the steaming waters.
“I’m actually quite happy.”
Zhuang Yiyi looked over at Chen Ding beside her. He was bare-chested, with several scratch marks on his chest; his hair was slightly damp, his untamed appearance tinged with a touch of deep affection.
“I’m glad you’re happy.”
Chen Ding smiled. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m happy?”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve told me so much today. Although we have different views, I think this is a significant step forward. I’ve come to understand your perspective and have a clear grasp of what you’re thinking. I feel I understand you better now.”
Zhuang Yiyi said quietly, “Do you think that’s a good thing?”
Chen Ding replied, “Of course.”
Zhuang Yiyi said, “But I don’t see it that way. I think the more you get to know someone, the more thoroughly you understand them, the more disillusioned you become. It’s like being a fan of a celebrity: when there’s a distance between you and them, you project all their wonderful qualities onto them, but the closer you get, the more you realise they aren’t the person you remember. Your memories are idealised, and so are theirs. The more you get to know someone, the more disillusioned you’ll feel.”
Chen Ding tilted his head to look at her. “But I haven’t.”
“Because you’ve only just started getting to know me.”
Chen Ding chuckled softly. “Darling, you’re far too pessimistic.”
“The more I get to know you, the more I might actually like you. Just like today.”
It had been nearly four months since they’d got married. Zhuang Yiyi had actually heard Chen Ding say things like this many times before—things like ‘I like you’, ‘I’ve missed you’, or the daily check-ins on WeChat… At first, her heart would flutter every time she heard them, because Chen Ding was undeniably handsome, and it was only natural to feel a stir in your heart when a handsome man said such things to you.
But after hearing it so often, she’d grown immune to it and began to see it as simply his way of interacting with people—much like saying ‘good morning’ in the morning. Yet this afternoon, she suddenly realised something: Chen Ding seemed to have developed feelings for her. Once this realisation struck, Zhuang Yiyi found herself at a loss as to how to respond to his sincere confession.
Feeling somewhat flustered, she averted her gaze from Chen Ding and stood up. “I’m going back to my room. I don’t want to soak any longer.”
The weather changed in an instant. Before she knew it, a light drizzle had begun to fall. It was nearly half past eleven, and the road home was still congested, with cars idling at red lights filling the wide roadway.
Han Rong, who had been sleeping in the back seat, suddenly woke up. She glanced out of the window; rain was streaming down the glass in streaks, and the lights outside were all blurred into a haze.
It was a red light.
The car had stopped.
In the dim interior, she saw Chen Ding turn his head to glance at Zhuang Yiyi, who was sleeping in the passenger seat. He gave a faint smile, reached out to pull the blanket covering her up a little higher, then looked back at the road ahead.
It was such a simple, ordinary gesture, yet Han Rong felt a quiet, unassuming tenderness in it.
She raised an eyebrow, committing that moment to memory.
And the following day at lunchtime, whilst having a meal with Zhuang Yiyi, she brought up the matter.
Zhuang Yiyi smiled, her heart filled with mixed emotions. She didn’t know how to face Chen Ding, so she had come to the hospital first thing in the morning to avoid running into him.
She could guess that Chen Ding would be his usual self, and she didn’t need to pretend to be particularly calm, but she found it somewhat difficult to get past this mental hurdle.
She went to the university and sought out Xiang Yajun.
Philosophy had always been a rather quiet subject.
Even the students majoring in philosophy weren’t particularly interested in it. They’d merely been allocated to this course; it offered them no help whatsoever in finding a job.
All they could think about was whether they could switch majors.
Zhuang Yiyi sat at the back of the classroom and glanced around. Everyone had a computer in front of them, but most were either on WeChat or watching videos. Only the few students sitting in the front row were looking up, listening intently to Xiang Yajun’s lecture.
Zhuang Yiyi was also listening attentively.
When the class ended, Zhuang Yiyi stood up to go and find her, but a female student beat her to it and gathered around her. Zhuang Yiyi therefore sat back down and waited for them to finish their conversation.
Only after all the students had left did Zhuang Yiyi walk over to her.