“Lu Chenzhou! Are you insane?!” She clutched her chest, her voice cracking in sheer fury.
“Who suddenly makes a sound in the middle of the night without sleeping?! Are you trying to scare me to death?!”
No one answered.
Jiang Wangtang took a couple of seconds to catch her breath, only then realizing something was off.
Lu Chenzhou didn’t look like he had just woken up at all. He was lying on his side on the outer edge of the kang, facing her directly. Though the light was too dim to clearly read his expression, those eyes of his were startlingly bright.
An inexplicable chill ran through Jiang Wangtang’s heart. “You… haven’t slept?”
Lu Chenzhou replied, “No.”
Jiang Wangtang asked, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Can’t sleep,” Lu Chenzhou said.
Jiang Wangtang couldn’t help shrinking back a little. “You can’t sleep in the middle of the night, so you just lie there staring at me?”
Lu Chenzhou didn’t say a word, and Jiang Wangtang suddenly felt a cold breeze sweep up her spine.
A grown man over six feet tall, staying wide awake in the dead of night, lying motionless in the dark and staring at her—who knew how long he had been doing it!
“Lu Chenzhou.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you staring at me for?”
Lu Chenzhou remained silent.
“I’m asking you.”
This time, Lu Chenzhou went unanswered for a long while. Just as Jiang Wangtang thought he wouldn’t reply, the man finally spoke in a raspy, low voice.
“To see if you’re still here.”
Just six short words, and Jiang Wangtang was instantly rendered speechless. All the witty retorts she was about to spit out got stuck right in her throat.
Sitting on the kang, she stared blankly at the man shrouded in darkness. For some unknown reason, her heart felt as if someone had gently squeezed it—sour, heavy, and aching.
Realizing he might have said something he shouldn’t have, Lu Chenzhou quickly rolled over, turning his back to her.
“Weren’t you going out?”
His tone had returned to being cold and rigid. But Jiang Wangtang didn’t snap back at him this time like she usually would.
“I’m going to the outhouse.”
Lu Chenzhou’s body tensed up instantly, and he flipped right back over the next second.
“I’m going with you.”
“What?” Jiang Wangtang thought she had misheard. “What are you following me to the outhouse for?”
“It’s dark outside.”
“I’m not a three-year-old child.”
“No.”
Jiang Wangtang was completely exasperated. “Lu Chenzhou, I’m literally just going to the outhouse in our own yard! It’s barely twenty steps there and back!”
Lu Chenzhou had already thrown off his quilt and stepped off the kang. “I’ll wait for you at the door.”
Fine, she understood now. How was this about being afraid of the dark outside? He was clearly terrified she would use a bathroom break as a cover to run away!
Jiang Wangtang slipped on her shoes and walked outside. Sure enough, Lu Chenzhou trailed right behind her. Once she went inside, he leaned against the wall nearby, waiting.
Squatting inside, Jiang Wangtang looked up at the ceiling in complete speechlessness. Who on earth had a six-foot-tall bodyguard standing guard while using the bathroom? And what’s worse, this “bodyguard” wasn’t worried about her safety—he was worried she’d bolt!
After taking care of business, Jiang Wangtang stepped out. Lu Chenzhou cast a glance at her.
“Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Back to sleep.”
The two of them walked back inside one after the other. Lu Chenzhou slotted the door latch in place and even yanked on it twice to make sure it was securely locked.
Jiang Wangtang’s mouth twitched at the sight. “Is that really necessary? How many times do I have to tell you I’m not running away?”
“…” Lu Chenzhou stayed silent.
“Are you planning to follow me around like this every time I go to the toilet, drink water, or go out to work in the fields from now on?”
Lu Chenzhou didn’t answer, but his expression looked as though he was seriously weighing the feasibility of that plan.
“Hold it right there!” Jiang Wangtang quickly raised her hand. “Don’t you dare! If you do that, I’ll lose it with you!”
Lu Chenzhou climbed back onto the kang with a cold face. “Ungrateful.”
“Who’s the ungrateful one here?” Jiang Wangtang burrowed back into her quilt. “I came back to live a life with you, not to serve a prison sentence.”
Lu Chenzhou’s hand froze mid-air as he pulled up his quilt. That phrase again—living a life with him.
This woman had said it multiple times today. He wanted to believe it, but he didn’t dare.
Just like when he was a child, that woman had petted his head and said: Chenzhou, be good. Mom will come back to get you in a few days.
He had believed her. One day, two days, three days… he ran to the entrance of the village every single day to wait. He waited through rain, and he waited until dark.
Only later did he learn she had long since run off with another man and had never intended to come back.
After his grandmother passed away, there was no one left in the world who would ever come back for him.
Until Jiang Wangtang appeared. She said she liked him, said she would marry him, and said she would come get him once she settled down back in the city.
In the end, she had fled too—even more clean and thoroughly than his mother had back then.
Lu Chenzhou closed his eyes as that familiar, stifling ache welled up in his chest again.
Suddenly, a warm, delicate hand lightly nudged his arm.
The man’s body tensed instantly, and his eyes snapped open.
Jiang Wangtang had unknowingly shifted a little toward the middle and was lying on her side, watching him.
“Lu Chenzhou.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry. When I wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll still be right here.”
Lu Chenzhou’s throat tightened. “As if I care.”
“Fine, you don’t care.” Jiang Wangtang didn’t bother arguing with him. “Then go to sleep. Stop staring at me, it’s creeping me out.”
Lu Chenzhou’s face darkened. “Who’s staring at you?”
“Right, right, right, you weren’t staring.” Jiang Wangtang pulled back into her quilt.
After a moment, she reached one hand out from under the blanket again and slapped it down right in the empty space between them. “Here.”
Lu Chenzhou frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you a way to check.”
“If you feel anxious in the middle of the night, just reach out and touch it,” Jiang Wangtang said, her eyes closed, her voice already heavy with drowsiness. “If you can feel my hand, it means I’m still here.”
Lu Chenzhou went completely silent.
In the dark, he stared at the hand resting on the kang. It was fair, small, and less than half an arm’s length away—he could touch it just by reaching out.
Lu Chenzhou didn’t move, as if locked in a silent tug-of-war with himself.
After a long while, just as Jiang Wangtang was about to drift off to sleep, a rough finger tentatively brushed against the tip of her finger.
It was extremely light, as if he were afraid that a single touch would make her vanish.
Jiang Wangtang didn’t open her eyes; she simply shifted her hand forward a bit.
The next second, the large hand froze abruptly, but she took the initiative to hook her finger around one of his.
“Go to sleep,” Jiang Wangtang mumbled incoherently. “I won’t run.”
Lu Chenzhou froze completely on the spot.
It took a long, long time before he slowly tightened his fingers. He didn’t grasp her whole hand, choosing instead to just let her keep her finger hooked around his.
That night, for the very first time, he finally closed his eyes.
And in that moment, Jiang Wangtang truly understood—Lu Chenzhou didn’t simply hate the original owner of this body, nor was he driving himself mad over those 1,860 yuan.
This man had simply been abandoned too many times. So much so that now, even when someone told him “I’m not leaving,” he had to keep his eyes open and guard her all night long, terrified that if he fell asleep, she would be gone again by the time he opened his eyes.