【【18】He Carried Her Home】
Liang Youyun felt an indescribable softness and warmth in her heart, along with a deeper sense of guilt. Yet, she rested comfortably on Jiang Muhe’s back as if it were a cozy bed where she could sleep soundly.
Suddenly, a question occurred to her: “Why five times? I just thought about it, and it should be four.”
Muhe smiled. “Five times.”
“Did I miss one?”
“The day you argued with Zhang He, on your way back from my place, I saw you. You were crying.”
Youyun vaguely remembered and said self-deprecatingly, “Yeah, I’m always so conflicted, so… weak.”
“You’re just very kind,” he corrected.
As expected, Zhang He called. Youyun answered, and in response to his frantic worry, she simply smiled and said, “I’m safe, very, very safe.”
She didn’t mention she was with Jiang Muhe. If she had, Zhang He would have interrogated her endlessly, and the thought alone was exhausting.
Listening to their conversation, Jiang Muhe thought to himself how nice it would be if she could be as natural and straightforward with him. He wished she could feel at ease around him, chatting and joking comfortably.
The night breeze was slightly chilly, and a bright, full moon hung in the sky.
They had already left the riverbank and were walking along a country path. Large banana leaves stretched into the middle of the road, brushing past Youyun’s head.
“So, you still don’t plan to let me down?” she asked softly, afraid of disturbing him at such close range.
“No, I don’t.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Not at all.”
Youyun smiled, feeling the urge to unleash a string of curses. If it were Zhang He beneath her, she would have said, “Serves you right if you tire yourself out!”
But this was Jiang Muhe.
Youyun asked again, “Did you smoke? I smell cigarettes on you.”
Jiang Muhe hesitated. “…I smoked a few.”
Youyun said, “Smoking is bad for your lungs, and it yellows your teeth.”
Jiang Muhe replied, “Then I won’t smoke anymore.”
He was as obedient as an innocent child, which slowly lowered Youyun’s guard and made her willing to share her thoughts with him.
“Actually, back at the riverside bar, I was too afraid to face you. I pretended to be cold and ignored you… But that’s not how I truly felt. I didn’t want you to feel awkward or unimportant. I wanted you to know that you’re my friend too, and… not just any insignificant friend.”
Hearing this, Jiang Muhe stopped walking. Facing the dark night in the distance, he took a deep breath. The pent-up frustration, unease, and worry in his heart seemed to release all at once, turning into wandering spirits of the night and scattering away…
After a long while, Jiang Muhe hesitantly asked a question: “Is what they said true?”
Youyun’s eyes grew distant, and she mumbled, “What…?”
“Well… they say you’ve had many… boyfriends.” Jiang Muhe felt a strong pang of jealousy.
But the person on his back didn’t answer.
Jiang Muhe thought she was either angry or simply didn’t want to talk.
He was afraid the friendship they had just repaired would shatter again, and even more afraid that there would be no chance after this.
He could only apologize: “If this question makes you uncomfortable, it’s my fault. I… I was just curious about what kind of people they were, what kind of person you like… Even though it’s in the past, some things never change, like…”
He stopped there, hearing the shallow breathing of the person on his back—steady, slow, and soothingly long, bringing a sense of peace.
Liang Youyun opened her eyes to find it was already the next morning.
This sleep had been incredibly comfortable, like returning to her childhood, lying on the big bed in her old home. She had even had a wonderful dream, filled with many of her brightest moments—like scoring first place in an exam, her parents celebrating her birthday, winning the grand prize at the company annual party, successfully closing a major project… She was certain she had woken up smiling.
She took a deep breath. Today, the blanket smelled so good! A deeply calming fragrance, one she couldn’t get enough of—wait, this wasn’t her blanket!!
Liang Youyun bolted upright in panic, and the scene before her nearly made her jaw drop.
Everything was unfamiliar—wooden furniture, leather sofas, woolen carpets, and all sorts of exquisite decorations. This wasn’t her home either!!
“Huh?” she uttered in confusion, trying to recall what had happened yesterday. After piecing it together, she realized this must be Jiang Muhe’s home.
A chill ran down her spine as she hurriedly looked down at herself. The dress she wore yesterday was still on. She lifted the blanket to check inside—thankfully, her underwear was still in place.
Only Jiang Muhe was missing.
She got out of bed and noticed her shoes neatly placed beside the wardrobe, while a pair of disposable white slippers lay at her feet.
Looking out the window, she became even more certain this was Jiang Muhe’s home. She had been to the courtyard before and still remembered how beautiful it was.
It seemed he had carried her all the way home.
Such a long distance, and with her being so heavy—how had he managed to endure it?
Youyun went downstairs, her footsteps light. In the open kitchen on the first floor, she saw Jiang Muhe with his back to her, standing by the island counter, shoulders hunched, right hand gripping a knife as he rhythmically chopped something.
Dressed in plain home clothes, he looked focused, unaware of anyone behind him.
Youyun sat down on the staircase steps, resting her chin in her hands, quietly admiring him as he cooked.
He was probably making rice noodles. People in Banna start their day with rice noodles, which can be bought in the village and prepared at home with their own seasonings. Cilantro mixed with chili peppers, tomatoes cooked down, then added with scallions, mint leaves, and lemon juice, topped with beef or a fried egg—it makes for a delicious and authentic Dai-style breakfast.
Jiang Muhe seemed to enjoy the cooking process, showing no signs of fluster. It was the composure of someone who cooked often.
He turned around, bringing the prepared shredded chicken cold rice noodles and beef rice noodles to the table. Lifting his gaze, he gave Liang Youyun a gentle smile from where she sat on the steps. “How much longer are you going to watch?”
Youyun chuckled. “I knew you’d noticed me long ago!”
She went downstairs and walked to the table, asking sheepishly, “Why didn’t you wake me? And why did you bring me to your home?”
Jiang Muhe placed his hands on his hips, frowning as he looked at her tired face. “You were sleeping too deeply. I couldn’t wake you.”
“But that must have been so hard on you! Carrying me all that way and still getting up early to make breakfast.”
He looked at her and sighed. “Well, someone said last night that I’m not just an unimportant friend to her.”
“Did I… really say that?” Youyun felt a bit embarrassed. It must have been the atmosphere or the alcohol that made someone as straightforward as her say such sentimental words.
Jiang Muhe looked at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes, and pointed to the two bowls of rice noodles on the table. “Which one would you like?”
Youyun chose the cold rice noodles. After washing her hands and face in the bathroom, she returned to find the table now included a serving of cold shredded papaya salad, dried beef jerky, and a pitcher of lime water.
As they ate and chatted, it was truly strange—Liang Youyun felt none of the usual awkwardness one might experience in someone else’s home. She attributed this to the harmonious arrangement of the furnishings, and she no longer felt the earlier sense of unfamiliarity toward Jiang Muhe, even though she was still far from truly knowing him.
“Why does your blanket smell so nice?” she remembered vividly.
Jiang Muhe sipped his soup and thought that perhaps this wasn’t an issue for him—it was simply a part of his accustomed way of life.
“I occasionally scent the bedding.”
“With aromatherapy?”
“An incense burner,” he added. “The traditional method.”
“No wonder. I slept so soundly.”
“For a long time, I had terrible trouble sleeping—lying awake all night. I didn’t want to take medication, so I tried the methods used by the ancients. I found it quite effective, at least for calming the mind and preventing restless thoughts.”
“You… have restless thoughts at night?” Youyun probed cautiously. He seemed like such a composed person, though she guessed it might be related to his comrade-in-arms.
“Occasionally,” he replied, continuing with his meal without elaborating.
After finishing the meal, Youyun offered to help with the dishes, but Jiang Muhe declined, suggesting she explore the house freely instead.
Youyun didn’t stand on ceremony and took a tour upstairs and downstairs.
On the second floor, she saw a spacious room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking lush greenery, full of vitality. Inside were some fitness equipment, most notably a rowing machine positioned centrally beneath the window.
Yesterday, Feng Duo had mentioned that walking and running were like rest for him—probably meaning that compared to his regular training, walking and running hardly counted as exertion.
Youyun went back downstairs, where Jiang Muhe had already tidied the kitchen and was drying his hands with a white towel. He walked over and followed behind her.
Youyun paused by the side table, which held several photo frames of various sizes.
Her attention was drawn to the largest one in the center—a photo of Jiang Muhe and another man, both wearing camouflage uniforms, holding rifles, and wearing helmets.
Somehow, Youyun felt the man in the photo was the comrade-in-arms he had lost.
“That’s Yan En,” Jiang Muhe said, pulling over two high stools. He pushed one toward Youyun and kept the other for himself, sitting by the side table as he often did, lost in thought while gazing at the photos.
“Yan En is the son of your parents, right?” Youyun didn’t take the stool. She wanted to look at each photo carefully, one by one. Perhaps she was more interested in Jiang Muhe’s experiences than in the man himself.
“Yes,” he replied, lowering his head to look at his hands resting between his legs. In a tone that wasn’t overly heavy, he began to recount the story from the past.
“Yan En enlisted three years after me. I was his team leader. In our unit, Yan En was the strongest support—always by my side. When I broke through, he covered me; when I parachuted, he followed closely behind. Whether in team training or actual combat, we were always together. Yan En was not only highly skilled but also had a pure heart and a wide range of interests. I’ve never met anyone so genuine and interesting. I envied him, especially for having parents who loved him so deeply.”
“He said that after retiring from the military, he would return to his hometown to help his parents build up their glutinous rice shop, so they could enjoy a comfortable old age. He said his hometown, Xishuangbanna, was incredibly beautiful, with the world’s most magnificent sunsets and the most stunning rainforests. He even invited me to come with him, to have his parents recognize me as their godson. It’s just a pity that at the time, I didn’t take it seriously.”
He laughed self-deprecatingly.
Youyun looked at him, feeling for the first time that his expression was so defeated. His hair was loosely tousled in no particular direction, his eyebrows thick, and when he lowered his eyes, his double eyelids were fully visible, a faint melancholy enveloping him.
“How did Yan En sacrifice himself?” Youyun asked.
Jiang Muhe looked up at her, then turned his gaze back to the photo, saying, “During a hostage rescue operation, terrorists suddenly opened fire while pretending to negotiate. At the sound of gunfire, I broke through the window, and other team members rushed in. Amidst the hail of bullets, I shielded the hostage and fought my way out. Just as we were nearing the safe zone, someone suddenly jumped down from the building, strapped with explosives. I couldn’t react in time, and as I raised my gun, I was shoved hard from behind. That was Yan En, using his own body to shield me, while he was torn to pieces by the explosion.”
Neither of them spoke. Witnessing a comrade’s brutal sacrifice firsthand had dealt him a fatal blow.
“Only after I got out did I realize I had also been shot—the pain came later. I spent half a year recuperating in a military hospital and underwent psychological rehabilitation, but I could never forget the moment Yan En sacrificed himself.”
“Later, I made the biggest decision of my life: to live as him.”
Youyun felt a pang in her heart, unsure how to comfort him, and instantly understood the torment he must have endured through those sleepless nights.
After a long silence, Jiang Muhe composed himself and smiled at Youyun, who still wore a sorrowful expression. “Knowing too much isn’t good for you, is it? I actually didn’t want you to share my pain. Besides, as time has passed, I’ve slowly made peace with myself. I’m grateful to Yan En and his parents for letting me experience genuine familial love and giving me something to do and enjoy after retiring. In truth, I’m a beneficiary of life.”
“It’s good that you can think that way. But those years… must have been tough, right?” Youyun walked toward him, meeting his gaze.
Jiang Muhe sat on the stool, looking up slightly at Youyun, and smiled faintly. “It was alright.”
They were very close.
Youyun hesitated before speaking. “…Can I see your wound? The gunshot wound.”
Jiang Muhe paused but slowly rolled up his T-shirt, revealing a circular scar near the edge of his left abdomen.
Youyun leaned in, bringing her eyes close to the scar. She had never seen such a wound before and examined it carefully, feeling an indescribable ache in her heart.
Almost instinctively, she reached out with her index finger to touch it.
Her cool fingertip met his warm skin.
Jiang Muhe’s muscles instinctively tensed.
He suppressed his breathing, swallowing hard, never expecting her to take the initiative to touch it.
Youyun traced the scar, tears welling in her eyes, murmuring to herself, “…It must have hurt so much back then…” She looked up and asked him, “How is it now? Does it affect your daily life?”
Jiang Muhe was taken aback, glancing down at the wound before carefully replying, “It doesn’t affect me. It healed long ago. It didn’t… damage any organs.”
Youyun’s expression remained grave, her heart genuinely aching for him. She nodded. “That’s good, that’s good.”
Jiang Muhe rolled his T-shirt up a bit more, revealing a roughly 7-centimeter diagonal scar below his chest, and said, “This is a knife wound, from an overseas counter-terrorism mission.”
Youyun moved her fingertips upward to touch the shocking scar, sighing softly with a tone of affectionate reproach, “…How could you be so careless… Why do you always charge ahead…”
Jiang Muhe looked at her, his eyes filled with a gentle pride.
He then pulled the collar of his T-shirt as wide as possible, exposing half his shoulder, and pointed to a reddish area near the end of his collarbone, saying, “This one too.”
Youyun followed the direction of his hand, straightening up and leaning closer. Unsure what kind of wound it was, she felt it—hard to the touch—and suddenly looked at him suspiciously, asking, “Is this…?”
Jiang Muhe bit his lower lip, unable to hide the smile on his face. “A mosquito bite.”
“…”
“You’re so annoying! How irritating!”
Youyun never expected him to tease her at such an emotional moment! She punched his shoulder hard, still unsatisfied, and pushed his chest, only for him to deftly grab her wrists, pleading, “Youyun… Youyun…”
“Don’t you dare waste my emotions like this again!”
Liang Youyun was both angry and frustrated, furious at herself for being foolish, her face flushed with embarrassment from his antics.
“Alright, I was wrong, I was wrong,” Muhe said with a laugh.
Youyun laughed too, breaking free from his grip. The more she laughed, the harder it became to stop. Leaning against the side table, she laughed until she was nearly out of breath, shaking her head as she said to Yan En in the photo frame, “Yan En, oh Yan En, look at what you saved!”