Gu Xingze kept his head lowered, enveloped in an aura of dejection.
His goddess… he had missed her because of his momentary hesitation and indecision…
The world is so vast, the probability of meeting someone is so small.
Missing someone once might mean a lifetime of regret.
The more he thought about it, the more disheartened he became…
He didn’t even hear the voices of the eminent monks ahead, lecturing and discussing Buddhist teachings.
Suddenly, Jiang Yufeng, sitting beside him, nudged his arm.
He looked up, puzzled, and glanced at Jiang Yufeng.
Jiang Yufeng gestured for him to look toward the entrance of the Buddha Hall.
Without understanding why, he glanced over.
Immediately, he froze in place.
That familiar figure!
His goddess!
Right then, he didn’t even care that the Dharma assembly was still in progress.
He quietly rose from his cushion, trying not to make any noise that would disturb others, and stealthily retreated to the edge of the Buddha Hall.
Then, in a flash, he dashed out of the hall.
Learning from his previous mistake, this time he didn’t hesitate at all.
He swiftly chased after the figure that was gradually moving further away.
…
Ye Ximeng stepped out of the main hall, and as the cold wind brushed against her, the drowsiness brought on by the warm, fragrant Buddhist Incense instantly dissipated.
Indeed, she was someone without a connection to Buddhism.
It was already getting late, so she followed the small path toward the direction of the monastic quarters.
Suddenly, a male lay practitioner wearing a black robe caught up to her and blocked her path.
The lay practitioner clasped his hands together, bowed slightly, and greeted her with an “Amitabha.”
This was the most common way for Buddhist lay practitioners to greet one another.
Though surprised, Ye Ximeng politely clasped her hands together and returned the greeting with an “Amitabha.”
The lay practitioner looked up, revealing a sunny and handsome face.
For a moment, Ye Ximeng was stunned. She recognized him immediately—he was the man who had been sitting next to Jiang Yufeng earlier.
Was he a friend of Jiang Yufeng’s?
“Fellow practitioner, may I add you on WeChat?” Gu Xingze asked shyly.
“Sure,” Ye Ximeng replied cheerfully.
…
After parting ways with Gu Xingze, Ye Ximeng returned to the monastic quarters, changed back into her own clothes, sent a message to Abbot Du’e to say goodbye, and then drove her small pickup truck away from Pudu Temple.
She drove first to the small courtyard she had rented in the eastern suburbs of Jing City.
She called a few nearby villagers she was familiar with to process the freshly picked white tea buds into tea leaves.
By the time the dried tea leaves were ready, the sky had begun to darken.
After storing the tea leaves properly, she immediately hurried back to the marital home in Qianshui Bay.
She hadn’t forgotten that Mother Jiang had asked Zhang Yi to bring dinner for her and Jiang Yufeng tonight, and Jiang Yufeng had also said he would return for dinner.
In the evening, it was difficult to hail a taxi in the suburbs of Jing City.
Ye Ximeng drove back in her Wuling 5*5 pickup truck.
Qianshui Bay was a high-end villa area, surrounded by upscale residences.
Ye Ximeng, driving a car worth less than 80,000 yuan, attracted quite a few curious glances from passersby.
When she reached the security gate, she was, unsurprisingly, stopped by the guard.
Fortunately, the security guards in the villa area were well-trained and remembered Ye Ximeng as a new resident.
Returning to the marital villa, she parked the car in the garage.
Jiang Yufeng and Zhang Yi, who was delivering the food, hadn’t arrived yet.
Ye Ximeng looked at herself in the mirror in the bedroom.
In the mirror, she looked flawless in every way—except for the large, swollen bump on her forehead.
It was from a wasp sting.
It looked like a flaw on a piece of beautiful jade, glaringly out of place.
Ye Ximeng took a piece of gauze and stuck it over her forehead, trying to cover the entire swollen bump.
Looking in the mirror again, her appearance now somewhat resembled a battle-damaged look.
She pressed the gauze on her forehead, winced in pain, and then made a decision.
Since she had already suffered, and her forehead was swollen anyway, she might as well go all out with a battle-damaged look.
Who knows, maybe Jiang Yufeng was into that sort of thing.
Thinking of something, a sly curve lifted the corner of Ye Ximeng’s lips.
A battle-damaged look needed the soul of battle damage.
She changed into a loose T-shirt and denim shorts.
The T-shirt hung down, completely covering the shorts.
After a moment’s thought, she painted scabbed or still-bleeding wounds on her legs and arms.
She redid her hairstyle—loose, messy, yet exuding a sense of casualness and stubbornness.
The final two touches to complete the look: first, dab some mercurochrome on the gauze on her forehead to mimic bloodstains.
Second, paint a nearly lifelike scrape on the half of her face that remained intact.
A perfect battle-damaged look.
The more she looked at it, the more appealing it became.
Like a female warrior emerging from the apocalypse, having just shed her armor to reveal a hint of softness.
Beautiful, exquisite, and captivating.
Just as Ye Ximeng finished getting ready, she heard the sound of a car parking in the villa’s courtyard.
She got up and glanced out the window—it was Jiang Yufeng’s car.
Jiang Yufeng was back.
Perfect timing for him to admire her battle-damaged look.
Jiang Yufeng opened the car door and stepped out. He hadn’t driven into the garage, parking directly in the open lot in the courtyard instead.
He entered the code and walked inside.
As he passed the entryway, a faint, elegant fragrance drifted into his senses.
It was a comforting and relaxing scent.
But the moment he looked up, Jiang Yufeng froze in place.
The young woman descending the stairs—just this morning, she had been so elegant, so refined. How could she now…
Jiang Yufeng quickly walked to the foot of the stairs. “Your injuries…”
Before he could finish, he lightly furrowed his brows.
Ye Ximeng descended the stairs gracefully. If her knees and legs had such severe scrapes and cuts, her walking posture wouldn’t be completely unaffected.
Even as Ye Ximeng came down the stairs and stood before him, the suspicion in Jiang Yufeng’s eyes remained undiminished.
Ye Ximeng suddenly smiled, her eyes curving as she asked, “How’s my battle-damaged look?”
Jiang Yufeng: “…”
Battle-damaged… look…
He closed his eyes, let out a breath, and asked in a somewhat cold, stiff tone, “Are all the injuries on your body just painted on?”
Ye Ximeng wasn’t the least bit intimidated by Jiang Yufeng’s cold expression. She smiled and asked, “Do they look real?”
Jiang Yufeng narrowed his eyes slightly. He was naturally aloof yet calm, rarely showing intense emotions.
But right now…
If the person in front of him weren’t a woman, weren’t his wife, but a child, he truly would have grabbed them and given them a spanking.
Jiang Yufeng turned his head away, not wanting to speak.
Just then, the sound of the door opening echoed, and an elegant middle-aged woman walked in from the entryway.
It was Jiang Yufeng’s mother, Wen Tonghua.
Wen Tonghua had brought a food container with her, a smile on her face, her demeanor exuding the grace unique to a noblewoman.
She had come to see how her son and daughter-in-law were getting along.
Things in videos could be faked—she needed to see it with her own eyes.
Wen Tonghua looked up toward the foot of the stairs.
In the next moment, she stood there, utterly stunned.
The food container she was holding slipped from her hand and fell to the floor with a clatter.