“Brother why is your face so red?”
Lu Xiuyuan felt his ears burn.
“Your clothes are here. I’ll go first.”
Xu Zhixia grabbed his hand:
“Where are you going?”
His mind was still filled with the memory of her smooth back, marked with the traces he had left that night.
His throat moved, veins on his forehead standing out, afraid he might lose control and hurt her again.
In a low voice, he said:
“I’m going for a few laps outside.”
Xu Zhixia’s fingertip traced across the exposed skin of his arm.
The sleeve was casually rolled up, veins rising under the thin skin, trembling slightly as she passed her fingers over them.
Seeing Lu Xiuyuan’s flushed neck, she decided to stoke the fire later, at least to awaken the lingering energy in the space.
She already missed the sweet, fragrant taste of fruit.
“Then come back soon. I’ll wait for you.”
“Mm, okay.”
Lu Xiuyuan didn’t realize his voice had gone hoarse.
He felt full of power, like a charging bull, deciding he’d run a hundred laps around the neighborhood.
After he left, Xu Zhixia took a hot shower. Coming out, she wore Lu Xiuyuan’s shirt.
She had bought a nightgown at the department store earlier, but it hadn’t been washed yet, so she couldn’t wear it.
She grabbed her original nightgown from the wardrobe along with a small pair of scissors and began working on it.
While Lu Xiuyuan ran, he felt as if a cat were clawing at his chest, thinking: maybe she really wants to change?
Fueled by this thought, he suddenly ran to the nearby post office and called the army directly:
“Hello, Commander, this is Lu Xiuyuan. I apologize for calling out of the blue, but I’d like to apply for my family to accompany me on assignment.”
Commander Huo was surprised; he remembered that Lu Xiuyuan and his wife had never gotten along.
Four years had passed without him visiting the army even once.
Instead, he often called just to scold people.
Because calls needed to be transferred, the young women answering often picked up gossip.
Naturally, rumors spread through the army, and everyone felt it was unfair to Lu Xiuyuan.
This time, since his wife was causing trouble over a divorce, Commander Huo, valuing Lu Xiuyuan as one of his top subordinates, thought the wife was unsuitable.
But they were married; military marriages were hard to dissolve and could affect career prospects.
Hearing Lu Xiuyuan’s cheerful tone, Commander Huo hesitated briefly:
“All right, come back soon to complete the paperwork.”
Lu Xiuyuan left the post office. The cold wind sobered him.
Maybe Xu Zhixia had only been speaking hastily, just to appease her family.
Maybe by the time he got home, she would already be gone.
His mood sank.
Under the moonlight, he reached home.
He walked slowly to the bedroom and saw her quietly sewing.
He froze this was the first time he’d seen Xu Zhixia so gentle, looking like a perfect, virtuous wife.
But then he noticed scraps of fabric scattered on the floor, and the material in her hands was almost gone.
What was she making?
Xu Zhixia revealed the answer:
“Do I look better in your shirt or this?”
Lu Xiuyuan realized she was wearing his shirt.
The wide collar fell over her body, revealing a large swath of pale skin.
When she looked up, her eyes sparkled with joy.
Lu Xiuyuan’s voice was cold as he turned away:
“Why are you wearing it like this?”
Wasn’t she supposed to dislike being touched? And yet she wore it this way on purpose.
“Not good-looking?”
Xu Zhixia stepped closer, as if wanting him to look more carefully.
Before her, the air carried her sweet scent.
“Really not good-looking?”
She brought herself right in front of him for inspection, only realizing she felt a chill.
Crap she’d only worn the shirt, her mind focused entirely on altering the nightgown, forgetting the rest of her undergarments.
She instinctively pressed her legs together.
Her cheeks flushed, and just as she tried to pull away, Lu Xiuyuan grabbed her.
Frowning, he said:
“You didn’t dry your hair.”
Her long hair could easily cause a cold or headache if left damp.
He picked up a towel and began drying her hair.
His serious expression made it seem as if her messy appearance needed organizing.
Xu Zhixia rubbed against him:
“I… I’m not wearing…”
Lu Xiuyuan felt her soft weight cling to him, closing his eyes.
When he opened them again, she was pressed against the wall:
“What do you want?”
Xu Zhixia blinked:
“What do I want? Don’t you know? I want you to ‘S’ me.”
His hand felt as if it had touched a hot iron.
As he released her, Xu Zhixia grabbed back:
“I’m serious. From now on, I’ll live properly with you.”
Lu Xiuyuan pursed his lips:
“What do you want me to do?”
She tiptoed close, whispering in his ear:
“Didn’t I say? ‘S’ me.”
Because of their height difference, she couldn’t reach his lips, placing the kiss on his neck instead.
Lu Xiuyuan clenched his fists. Before, after running, she had always been careful about touching him.
Now, after he had just finished his run, she came forward.
He suppressed the heat rising through his veins, voice hoarse:
“Don’t you mind the smell?”
Xu Zhixia didn’t hear clearly at first:
“What?”
Then she realized his meaning, as if showing she didn’t mind.
She sniffed lightly:
“No, it smells good.”
It was a clean sweat scent, her short hair damp.
It carried a mingling of mild soap fragrance and the warmth of skin.
Lu Xiuyuan was skilled at reading microexpressions for truth.
He looked into her clear eyes, like a lake you could see to the bottom.
Whether out of selfishness or professional instinct, he kept convincing himself:
She was serious.
Maybe he could truly accept her.
A voice in his heart urged him to embrace this.
Her voice continued to coax him:
“You’ll sleep with me tonight, right?”
Even if she didn’t mind, he would still shower before bed.
“I… I’ll go take a shower first.”
He turned toward the bathroom.
Xu Zhixia watched his back, lost in thought. Even in their past life, no matter how poorly she treated him…
He had still cared for her after her death.
Now, thinking back, she felt some guilt.
Thinking of her past foolish self, she gritted her teeth.
Sleeping in a stiff man’s shirt was uncomfortable; she changed into the little nightgown she had just made.
She slipped under the covers.
The first three months no. The last three months no. But the months in between were actually safe.
She couldn’t wait to embrace this man with a feast of love.
To truly have him again.
Only then could her parched self be nourished once more.