7
Thinking that the man couldn’t see, Jiang Mian set the bag she was carrying down by the door and went over to help him.
“Thank you,” he said.
She guided him to the sofa and helped him sit down, then poured a glass of water and handed it to him. “The property management should be here soon. Just sit for a while.”
He gave a slight nod but said nothing.
After settling him in, Jiang Mian left him alone, picked up the bag, and carried it to the kitchen. She dumped all the scrap jade pieces onto the counter.
After rummaging through them for a while, she pulled out a fist-sized piece of scrap jade. In the middle of it was a dull, dark patch.
Jiang Mian closed her eyes and focused, sensing a faint wisp of spiritual energy emanating from that very spot.
She needed to peel it open and see what was inside.
She searched through the various kitchen utensils but couldn’t find a suitable tool. She left the kitchen and headed to the utility closet to look for a small hammer.
As she walked out of the kitchen, she glanced toward the sofa.
Huh? Where was he?
The sofa was empty. Jiang Mian looked toward the front door, which she had left open. Had he left?
Just then, a meow sounded. Jiang Mian took a few steps forward and saw the man crouched in front of the cat bed, gently rubbing Xiao Mi’s head with his long fingers. Xiao Mi’s eyes were half-closed in comfort as she purred loudly.
Jiang Mian had placed Xiao Mi’s bed against the wall, next to a bookshelf and a desk. Because of the angle, her view was blocked by the desk, and since he was crouching down, she hadn’t seen him at first.
“She’s very cute,” the man said, tilting his head slightly. Jiang Mian could see the bridge of his nose and the faint upward curve of his lips.
“She’s alright. All she does is eat and sleep,” Jiang Mian replied. Seeing that he was happily playing with the cat, she turned to head to the utility closet. But the moment she did, Xiao Mi, who had been basking in his attention just seconds ago, suddenly turned hostile. With lightning speed, she swiped a claw across the back of the man’s hand—too fast for him to dodge.
Three bloody scratches quickly rose on the back of his hand.
Jiang Mian: “…”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, stepping forward. She grabbed Xiao Mi and locked her in her cage. Not bothering to scold the cat, she helped the man back to the sofa. The scratches were deep—clearly, Xiao Mi had put force into it.
Jiang Mian took a deep breath. “Wait here. I’ll get the first aid kit. Don’t move.”
The man didn’t respond. He sat like a statue, letting Jiang Mian fuss over him. When she used antiseptic to clean the wound, his hand didn’t flinch in the slightest, as if he couldn’t feel the pain at all.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” Remembering the night before in the garage—how his eyes kept bleeding but his expression remained unchanged except for his pale face—Jiang Mian couldn’t help but wonder if he was incapable of feeling pain.
After a few seconds of silence, he said, “I’m used to it.”
Used to pain… Jiang Mian fell silent, though her movements unconsciously became even gentler.
“May I touch your face?” When she finished treating his wound, he made the same request he had asked her in the garage the night before.
Jiang Mian’s fingers twitched, nearly causing him a second injury.
She didn’t understand. Since he couldn’t see, why was he so fixated on her face?
Though his request to touch her face was rather presumptuous, his expression was open and honest, with no trace of impropriety.
Looking at his pale face and then at the scratches on his hand, Jiang Mian thought for a moment. “Go ahead.”
Her immediate agreement, without asking why, seemed to catch him off guard. After a pause, he reached out with his uninjured hand and slowly moved it toward her face.
Just before touching her, he suddenly withdrew his hand and said, “They’re here.”
Jiang Mian: “?”
A ding sounded from the elevator.
“Miss Jiang, which lock of yours is having trouble?”
—It was the property management.
“It’s his apartment lock that won’t open,” Jiang Mian said, helping the man out of her apartment. “Not mine.”
“Oh, it’s Mr. Qi.” The property management had basic information on each resident. He looked from Jiang Mian to Mr. Qi. “Mr. Qi, could you please tell me the password?”
“521521,” Jiang Mian said on his behalf.
The property management staff member went over to the opposite apartment, entered the password, and with a click, the door opened.
Jiang Mian: “…”
The staff member: “???”
Jiang Mian instinctively looked at the man beside her. His expression was completely blank. She had no choice but to explain, “We tried it just now. Neither the password nor the fingerprint would open it.”
Her implication: they hadn’t been messing around.
The staff member closed the door and said politely, “Mr. Qi, could you please try the fingerprint again?”
Mr. Qi placed his finger on the sensor. The unlocking sound chimed, and the door opened.
Jiang Mian was utterly speechless.
Just a few minutes ago, she had personally witnessed this Mr. Qi enter both his password and his fingerprint with no success. Now it felt like she had imagined the whole thing.
An awkward silence fell. The staff member, thinking that rich people surely wouldn’t stoop to wasting their time for no reason, offered, “Perhaps the network was unstable earlier and the data couldn’t be read properly, which prevented the lock from opening.”
He then carefully inspected the lock, found no other issues, and left.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Qi said. “I’ve caused you trouble.”
Jiang Mian replied, “I should be the one apologizing. My cat scratched you.”
Mr. Qi shook his head gently. “It’s nothing.”
“You need to get a rabies vaccine for that wound. Let’s go to the vaccination center now.” Remembering that he couldn’t see and probably wouldn’t trust her word alone, she added, “Or you could give me your assistant’s number, and I’ll call him for you?”
Mr. Qi said, “He’s away on business.”
Jiang Mian said, “Then I’ll go with you?”
Mr. Qi said, “Alright.”
When they arrived at the vaccination center, basic information needed to be filled out on a form. Since Mr. Qi couldn’t see, Jiang Mian naturally filled it in for him. The first field was his name. All Jiang Mian knew was that his surname was Qi. She turned to him and asked, “What’s your full name?”
Mr. Qi was silent. Jiang Mian thought he didn’t want to say, so she explained, “I’m not asking out of curiosity. The form requires your name.”
“Then I’ll just make one up,” she added. It wasn’t like they would do a thorough check.
Mr. Qi’s lips moved slightly, but he swallowed whatever he had been about to say.
Jiang Mian casually wrote “Qi Xiaobai” in the name field, paid the fee, and waited.
By the time they left the vaccination center, it was nearly nine o’clock. Earlier, Jiang Mian had called Aunt Liu to tell her not to come over and cook dinner tonight—she had wanted to work on the jade without being disturbed. She hadn’t expected this whole detour.
After hours of running around, she was hungry. She glanced at the quietly composed Mr. Qi and suggested, “Let me buy you dinner?”
Mr. Qi had no objection. Jiang Mian found a restaurant nearby that looked fairly clean. Out of politeness, she asked what he wanted to eat. After receiving the answer “anything is fine,” she ordered according to her own tastes.
Once the food arrived, Jiang Mian didn’t worry about him being inconvenienced by his inability to see.
In fact, if it weren’t for the white cloth covering his eyes—and the fact that she had witnessed it soaked in blood just the day before, confirming that his eyes were genuinely injured—she would have thought he was just wearing it for fun.
He acted nothing like someone who couldn’t see.
She looked up occasionally. Well, to be fair, there were moments when he did betray his condition—he picked up a slice of ginger with his chopsticks, paused, and then spat it out with perfect composure.
Jiang Mian felt that laughing would be rude, so she held it in. But Mr. Qi was remarkably perceptive. As if sensing her suppressed amusement, he tilted his head slightly and “looked” in her direction.
Jiang Mian cleared her throat and, using the serving chopsticks, picked out all the ginger slices and chili pieces from the dishes. “There,” she said. “Now you won’t accidentally pick up any inedible garnishes.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Qi said, a faint smile curling his lips.
Jiang Mian was momentarily dazzled.
Under the soft lighting, people naturally looked more beautiful. Though his eyes were covered with a white cloth, it didn’t detract from his appearance. That smile of his was no less striking than her film-star father’s.
Just then, a furious shout rang out: “There she is!”
Jiang Mian looked up and saw four or five young thugs with garishly dyed hair burst in through the restaurant entrance. She glanced left and right. Their target seemed to be her.
Um… not just “seemed.” They were definitely coming for her.
Jiang Mian frowned.
Other diners in the restaurant, startled by the aggressive intrusion, scrambled to their feet in panic. Amid the commotion, the thugs charged straight to Jiang Mian’s table and, without hesitation, lunged at her.
Jiang Mian: “…”
What kind of act was this?
A hand swung toward her face. Jiang Mian’s reflexes kicked in faster than her thoughts—she dodged, grabbed the attacker’s wrist, yanked hard, and twisted it back. The motion was forceful, but her strength was lacking. She couldn’t budge it.
Jiang Mian: “…”
The next second, a scream rang out, and the man in front of her crashed to his knees.
Jiang Mian: ???
No need to bow that deeply.
She looked up and realized that the one who had acted was Mr. Qi, who had somehow risen to his feet without her noticing.
No—he hadn’t laid a hand on anyone. He had simply used the cup on the table as a projectile, striking the thug in the back of the knee. The cup was still rolling on the floor with a dull clatter.
**