“Cry If You Want to Cry”
Qiu Yao had spoken too much tonight, and her emotions had fluctuated significantly. Although Xu Yiwen wanted to explain his intentions to her, he ultimately held back.
Matters concerning He Xihuan had to be taken slowly, and getting Qiu Yao to accept them would also take time.
Xu Yiwen changed the subject, stayed with Qiu Yao a little longer, and prepared to carry her to the bed to rest. However, Qiu Yao insisted on seeing him upstairs, refusing to rest until she watched him return to his room.
Hearing Xu Yiwen agree and say he would ask Auntie Hong for help, He Xihuan gathered his thoughts and quietly walked over to the guest room next door, which had its door left ajar, to ask Auntie Hong to help push Qiu Yao’s wheelchair.
Auntie Hong walked out of the room and helped He Xihuan close the door.
The He family had long anticipated the possibility that Xu Yiwen might occasionally bring his grandmother to stay. When designing Xu Yiwen’s study on the second floor, they had also remodeled the first floor.
The guest room specially prepared for Qiu Yao and the adjacent nanny’s room were built with reduced soundproofing materials so that if Qiu Yao was unable to ring the bell, the servants could react promptly based on sound.
For a year, Qiu Yao had not come to stay, and everyone had almost forgotten that this room was not only lacking in soundproofing, but also carried a slight amplification effect.
Auntie Hong could never stay idle. When Qiu Yao told her to go back to her room to rest, she instead turned around and went to the backyard to help Steward Chang.
As soon as she returned, she ran into He Xihuan eavesdropping right by the door.
Following He Xihuan’s shushing gesture, she returned to the room next to Qiu Yao’s.
Puzzled by the situation, she left the door unlatched.
In a daze, she heard the sobbing from next door and heard someone call her name. Just as she was about to go out, He Xihuan walked back in and told her not to tell Xu Yiwen that he was here.
Auntie Hong was at a loss. Based on He Xihuan’s usual behavior, she guessed that he was lurking by the door because he missed Xu Yiwen terribly and, feeling too shy to take him away directly in front of an elder, was simply waiting outside.
He must have almost been discovered by Xu Yiwen just now, which was why he had hurriedly ducked into the room.
Seeing Xu Yiwen pushing Qiu Yao out, Auntie Hong smiled with quiet delight.
Youth was truly wonderful.
During the year she had been working there, this young couple never gave each other pleasant looks on the surface, yet in reality, they cared deeply for one another.
Mr. Xu would deliberately explain Mr. He’s habits and requirements to her, while Mr. He would inform her which areas of Mr. Xu’s study were off-limits.
Both Xu Yiwen and He Xihuan were busy with work and had limited time for exercise. Whenever they didn’t need to carry heavy objects upstairs, they would choose to take the stairs, leaving the elevator mostly idle.
Auntie Hong pushed Qiu Yao into the elevator next to the stairs, reached the second floor, saw Xu Yiwen into the master bedroom, and only then brought Qiu Yao back down to the first floor to rest.
Inside the second-floor master bedroom, Xu Yiwen sat on the edge of the bed, beside him a lonely pillow.
When Qiu Yao had asked why there was only one pillow just now, he had almost been at a loss for an answer.
Fortunately, Auntie Hong loved to chime in and playfully joked that the two of them were so inseparable they even shared a single pillow, which prevented Qiu Yao from asking any further.
With his head spinning, Xu Yiwen collapsed backward onto the bed, wrapped himself in the quilt, and curled up into his designated spot.
The tears he had held back earlier now slowly began to flow backward.
He knew that if he cried, Qiu Yao would certainly cry even harder. He had managed to hold it back downstairs, shedding only a few droplets.
He bit his lip, allowing himself to silently shed scorching hot tears.
To prevent Qiu Yao from returning, he needed to discuss with He Xihuan today about sleeping in the master bedroom temporarily.
He sobbed in a low voice, giving himself a few minutes to buffer.
Once he pulled himself together, he would go to the study to discuss it with He Xihuan.
Lying on his side, his body gradually curled into a ball. His eyelashes were matted together by tears, his sensory perception dulled to the point that he didn’t even notice when the master bedroom door opened and someone stepped inside.
After Auntie Hong brought Qiu Yao back to her room, He Xihuan had sprinted up the stairs.
The master bedroom door was ajar, and He Xihuan could hear distinct weeping.
He stood frozen in the doorway, panicking in utter helplessness with sweat pouring down his back.
Only after his chaotic emotions settled slightly did he step into the bedroom, lie down behind Xu Yiwen, and embrace him from behind.
Wisps of yellow apricot fragrance enveloped Xu Yiwen as the broad arms wrapped around him. Xu Yiwen’s body trembled, realizing that He Xihuan had returned.
He ought to have pushed He Xihuan away, yet instinctively, he hoped that this sweet yellow apricot scent could dilute the bitterness soaking into his heart.
Xu Yiwen neither resisted nor spoke, which only made He Xihuan panic all the more.
He lowered his head to press against Xu Yiwen’s cheek, a steady warmth washing over them.
He slowly closed his eyes, his breathing growing heavier.
Before the two of them married, when both families met, Qiu Yao had once asked to speak with him alone.
Qiu Yao had told him a story.
A little boy holding a milk bottle had, due to certain reasons, never lived with his parents since childhood, sleeping either by himself or in his grandparents’ room.
For the sake of the family business, his grandparents often had to travel, so the boy mostly slept alone.
On the boy’s birthday, his grandparents gave him a small dog plush toy.
That puppy, whose neck bell could make a ringing sound, became the little boy’s friend, or rather, his security blanket that he had to hold onto whenever he went to sleep.
Later, his younger brother snatched away and threw out his puppy.
When his grandparents returned home, they bought him many more puppy plush toys, but at night he no longer held them to sleep; instead, he reverted to curling up tightly to sleep in a protective posture.
Like a fetus in amniotic fluid, he held himself tight to seek a sense of security.
He Xihuan understood what Qiu Yao meant.
She hoped that He Xihuan, as Xu Yiwen’s lover, could become a security blanket that belonged exclusively to Xu Yiwen, one that no one could ever throw away or take from him.
He Xihuan slowly opened his eyes. His palm hovered over Xu Yiwen’s tightly bitten lips, touching only the warm current in the air.
Could he do it? Would Xu Yiwen allow it?
From the very beginning, Xu Yiwen had never intended to run this marriage as a romance; he merely treated it as a task assigned by his parents to be completed.
On the day of the fitting, after Xu Xiangxiang and Jiao Qin emphasized to Xu Yiwen what he needed to do in this marriage and how he needed to use the He family’s help to assist the Xu family, Xu Yiwen held both of their hands and promised he could do it, even saying that if he couldn’t develop feelings for He Xihuan, he would still do his utmost to help the Xu family.
This was witnessed and overheard firsthand by He Xihuan, who had arrived late because he was personally learning how to make a floral bouquet.
From that day on, the name Xu Yiwen lost all personal meaning, reverting once more to the parents’ description: the Omega three years his senior with the scent of fresh goji berries and an 80% compatibility match with him.
Now, Xu Yiwen had once again taken the initiative to pull out a divorce agreement, declaring this marriage entirely meaningless.
He was clearly playing with him like a dog.
From beginning to end, it was Xu Yiwen who had never tried to open his arms to him.
Reaching through the thermal current in the air, He Xihuan used the pad of his thumb to nudge open Xu Yiwen’s tightly bitten lips.
“Cry if you want to cry.” He used a low, commanding tone, attempting to turn the valve of the sluice gate that Xu Yiwen was keeping tightly regulated.
Xu Yiwen fluttered his dense, tear-matted eyelashes, his dark brown pupils quietly wrestling as he bit down on He Xihuan’s fingertip, refusing to let his voice spill out.