After taking the medicine, Shen Qingqing felt much better.
She was in a place where she knew no one, without even a single person to talk to.
She could only take out her book and continue her translation work.
Having developed amnesia, she might forget many people and things in the future. Shen Qingqing wasn’t certain whether she would forget these skills as well.
The thought filled her with fear.
But she didn’t even have someone to confide in—who could she turn to for comfort?
A tall figure surfaced in her mind—her husband, the person who should be closest to her.
Shen Qingqing tugged at the corners of her mouth, a self-deprecating smile forming on her lips.
For their life to have come to this, this marriage was truly a failure.
She cast the jumbled thoughts out of her mind.
She couldn’t predict what the future held; the only thing she could do was hold on to the present.
If she couldn’t hold on to the man, then she should at least preserve her skills, so she wouldn’t be unable to support herself after the divorce.
Reading through the book several times a day, repeating the memorization over and over—maybe it would have some effect.
With this thought in mind, Shen Qingqing worked more diligently than before.
The pen tip scratched across the paper, producing a soft rustling sound, punctuated by the occasional turn of a page.
She was alone in the room, the warm yellow lamplight spilling across the space, utterly quiet.
Footsteps occasionally sounded in the corridor, dispelling the fear in Shen Qingqing’s heart.
This place was safe—even without Jiang Zhixun, she didn’t have to be on edge.
After some time, someone knocked on the door.
It was Comrade Xiao Li from the front desk.
“Captain Jiang said you were sick and asked me to check on you every two hours. Comrade Shen, did you take your medicine? Are you feeling any better now?”
Xiao Li’s tone was filled with envy.
A husband who was capable and handsome to boot—this Comrade Shen was truly blessed by fate!
Shen Qingqing took a deep breath to suppress the ripples stirring in her heart.
He was always like this.
On one hand, he kept her at arm’s length; on the other, he took care of her down to the smallest detail.
Giving her the illusion.
That if she just tried hard enough, Jiang Zhixun would see her.
But the facts proved that not loving meant not loving.
Even after they’d gotten their marriage certificate, he’d rather transfer to the northwest to avoid her.
Everything he did now was merely out of a sense of duty.
“Comrade Shen?”
Seeing her expression turn grim, Xiao Li grew anxious.
“Are you running a fever again? Let me take you to the hospital first.”
Shen Qingqing shook her head. “I’m already better.”
She pointed to the book on the table. “I can sit and read now, comrade. You don’t need to come again.”
Xiao Li craned her neck to look—the book was lying face down, the cover visible.
But she couldn’t recognize a single word on it.
Her gaze toward Shen Qingqing carried a hint of scrutiny and wariness.
Not wanting to cause trouble for herself or Jiang Zhixun, Shen Qingqing took out her work credentials from her bag.
“I work at a publishing house. I’m a translator.”
Xiao Li realized she’d overthought things and blushed.
Stammering, she said, “Comrade Shen, you’re really impressive. No wonder even Captain Jiang, who’s so hard to win over, was captured by you.”
Beautiful, fluent in foreign languages, and with such a respectable job—Comrade Shen must have had many suitors!
A slight smile curved at the corners of her lips, looking gentle and intellectual.
Xiao Li felt that if she were a man, she’d be drawn to Comrade Shen too.
Shen Qingqing seemed to be in good shape, and Xiao Li was relieved. “Then I won’t disturb you any longer.”
“Thank you for your trouble.”
“No trouble at all, no trouble at all.”
Xiao Li waved her hands repeatedly and didn’t linger.
The room fell quiet again, but Shen Qingqing could no longer concentrate.
Staring at the passages of text on the page, her mind slowly drifted.
In that phone call, Mother Jiang had been hinting between the lines for her to consider the bigger picture.
To stop making a spectacle of herself and affecting Jiang Zhixun’s future.
If she were more self-interested, she would decisively file for divorce.
But she couldn’t.
After she turned fifteen, the Jiang family had raised her—supported her schooling, clothed her, fed her, never letting her suffer a single hardship.
By then, Jiang Zhixun had already begun to make a name for himself, a young and promising pilot.
They didn’t spend much time together, but every time he came home, Jiang Zhixun would give her pocket money.
He had a cold temperament, and occasionally a sharp tongue that could scold someone red-faced.
But his kindness, Shen Qingqing remembered it all.
Apart from these three years of cold war, Shen Qingqing couldn’t think of a single fault in Jiang Zhixun.
No—he had sent her his allowance during these three years.
That couldn’t be counted as a fault.
They… were just not suited to each other.
Shen Qingqing rested her head on the table, her soft long hair sliding down her slender back to her side, the ends swaying faintly in the air.
Just like her mood at this moment, ripples spreading in circle after circle.
…
Shen Qingqing’s arrival broke the calm.
Jiang Zhixun was severely affected—she appeared in his dreams for the first time.
The first time they met, Shen Qingqing was still a young girl.
She had just arrived from Shanghai, wearing a dress, her hair in twin braids, standing nervously in the courtyard, calling him “Brother Zhixun.”
Her parents had just passed away, and there were no reliable relatives in the family.
A young girl who had been well protected and had never seen the cruelty of the world suddenly lost her support.
She was anxious and uneasy, afraid that if she said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing, the Jiang family would come to dislike her.
Jiang Zhixun was not a man of delicate sensibilities, yet the first time he met Shen Qingqing, he noticed her uneasy mood.
So he gave her a fountain pen.
A gift, he said, for their first meeting.
Shen Qingqing settled into the compound.
She went to school; he served in the army.
There was little overlap between them—they barely saw each other a few times a year.
To Jiang Zhixun, it was simply that there was one more girl in the household, and it had no real impact on his life.
But in his dreams, Shen Qingqing’s image grew clearer and clearer, and at some point, he began to notice the small tear mole at the corner of her eye.
By the time they registered their marriage, she had just turned twenty.
Beautiful and gentle-tempered, she was the secret crush of many boys in the compound.
At that time, Grandfather was hospitalized, his condition worsening by the day.
He kept muttering that without seeing Zhixun married and Qingqing wed, he could not rest easy.
That was the boldest Shen Qingqing had ever been.
In the hospital room, in front of many people, she said she wanted to marry him.
Perhaps from nerves, perhaps from shyness, Shen Qingqing’s face flushed crimson.
But she still looked at him without wavering and asked the question: “Zhixun-ge, would you be willing to become my revolutionary companion?”
In his sleep, Jiang Zhixun heard the question again.
He was silent for a long time.
When Shen Qingqing’s cheeks were burning red and she was so embarrassed she wished she could crawl into a hole, he nodded.
“Then let’s get married.”
Jiang Zhixun jolted awake, his breathing ragged, but Shen Qingqing’s expression at that moment surfaced clearly in his mind.
Those eyes, so clearly black and white, had grown very, very bright.
Joy hidden deep within them.
Three years ago, Jiang Zhixun had thought Shen Qingqing and Grandfather were putting on an act, deliberately tricking him into marriage.
That contrived marriage had become a shackle binding him, suffocating him.
Not knowing how to vent, he chose to flee instead.
And once he left, three years passed.
His resentment toward Shen Qingqing had, over more than a thousand days and nights, unknowingly faded.
But that did not mean he could accept this marriage.
Jiang Zhixun pressed his temples and decided to keep his distance from Shen Qingqing.
He would not see her again until he returned to the capital.
Once he sent her back and explained things to the elders, he would return to the northwest and send his monthly allowance.
Pushing the jumbled thoughts out of his mind, Jiang Zhixun forced himself back to sleep.
Unexpectedly, he dreamed of Shen Qingqing again.
She was riding the train alone when she encountered a lecherous man, leaving her with psychological trauma.
In the guesthouse room, she dared not sleep, keeping the light on and crying alone at the desk.
Her skin was fair, so once she cried, her nose turned red, and her eyes were frighteningly red too.
She was also sick, and between sobs, she fainted…
Appearing at the guesthouse before dawn, Jiang Zhixun’s face was dark as thunder.
He felt he was being driven mad by Shen Qingqing.
With her crying endlessly in his dreams, how could he rest easy without coming to check on her!