Shang Zhitao’s typing hands froze, and she looked up at Luan Nian.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “What do you mean by taking care of him together?”

Luan Nian looked at her for a long time, then said, “Can we talk about it after Luke finishes his IV and we get home?”

“Alright.”

Shang Zhitao felt a bit flustered.

She hadn’t felt this way for a long time—unable to focus on anything, her thoughts disturbed by just one sentence from Luan Nian.

Neither of them spoke further. After his IV, Luke refused to walk on his own, whimpering to be carried. Luan Nian carried him back home, attracting many stares along the way. Some people made unpleasant remarks: “You probably don’t even take care of your parents this devotedly.”

“What’s it to you? Are you sick?” Luan Nian wouldn’t tolerate such treatment and snapped back: “Mind your own business.”

Shang Zhitao understood Luan Nian; he had always been this way, never allowing himself to suffer even the slightest grievance. She also found those remarks unpleasant, but sometimes she would pretend not to hear them. She had never thought of confronting the neighbors face-to-face about the unpleasant rumors about her. This was probably one of the differences between people.

They entered the home, and Luan Nian put Luke down. Having just finished his IV, Luke was very weak and lay there motionless. When Shang Zhitao tried to get him to drink water, he couldn’t manage it. She grew anxious, and tears began to flow again.

The girl who never used to cry in front of Luan Nian no longer clenched her teeth to hold back tears. Luan Nian had regretted countless times that when Shang Zhitao had broken down in front of him in the past, he hadn’t embraced her. Now he would never allow such a thing to happen again.

He gripped her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace.

It wasn’t just her head against his body with distance between them. It was a real embrace.

Luke stood up, probably trying to make some noise. Luan Nian’s hand on Shang Zhitao’s back made a gesture, his index finger pointing downward, his hand gently motioning down: lie down.

Having been trained by Luan Nian for so long, Luke certainly understood this command and lay back down, watching them quietly.

Luan Nian was very satisfied and continued embracing Shang Zhitao attentively. The fragrance in her hair made him lose focus; it was hard to end this without doing something more.

Luan Nian’s hand caressed her head, his fingers threading through her hair, cupping her face. Her tears hadn’t dried yet. Their breaths mingled, and Luan Nian lowered his gaze to look at Shang Zhitao with a sticky, unsettling gaze that made her heart race.

He lowered his head, his lips touching hers, then pulling away for fear of her resistance, back and forth, until finally stopping on her lips, grinding against them, his tongue prying open her teeth.

Luan Nian would always be Luan Nian.

He could restrain himself from touching her, pretend to be a gentleman, but over these years, he had mentally violated Shang Zhitao countless times. Now, expecting him to progress gradually was simply wishful thinking.

Once his tongue entered the battlefield, his dominance burst through the veneer of civility, flaunting its power in every corner of her mouth. His breathing gradually quickened, and he suddenly pulled Shang Zhitao tightly into his arms. Shang Zhitao collided with something hard and suddenly came to her senses. She pushed him forcefully, but Luan Nian refused to let go. Shang Zhitao bit his lip and used all her strength to finally break free from his embrace.

The two struggled in the dimly lit room. There was a fire in Luan Nian’s eyes that could burn Shang Zhitao to ashes. She covered her lips and glared at him: “So this is what you wanted to discuss.”

“Yes!”

“Is this how you discuss things?”

“What’s wrong with discussing things my way?”

…

“That’s being a hooligan, not a discussion!”

“Is this your first day knowing me?”

“If this is how you discuss, I won’t discuss with you!”

“Whatever!”

Luan Nian put on his coat and walked toward the door, but with his hand on the doorknob, he felt unsatisfied. He turned around, slowly took off his coat, tossed it on the sofa, and walked step by step toward Shang Zhitao.

Shang Zhitao became frightened—she had never seen Luan Nian like this before. She backed up two steps before Luan Nian pinned her against the bookshelf wall. She let out a light cry that was silenced by Luan Nian’s lips. He wanted to kiss her too badly—to hell with slow and steady progress. At their age, what was the point of waiting?

He picked her up in one motion, his body pressing hard against hers, blocking her lips, kissing her fiercely, even thrusting his hips against her. Shang Zhitao let out a whimper with nowhere to escape. She hated him in her heart and bit the corner of his lip hard. The taste of blood spread, and Luan Nian calmed down, pulling slightly away from her lips. He looked at her intently and said through gritted teeth: “If it weren’t for wanting to be with you forever, I would take you right now to vent my anger!”

They both knew what Luan Nian meant. Shang Zhitao’s inadvertent whimper was her body’s surrender, though her mind still wanted to resist.

Luan Nian kissed her once more, then put her down. His tongue licked the corner of his lips, then he wiped it with his thumb, like a complete rogue.

Shang Zhitao was shocked by his words about wanting to be with her forever and remained speechless for a long time. She escaped from between him and the bookshelf wall to stand beside Luke, pointing at the door: “Go stay at a hotel!”

“I won’t!”

“This is my home!”

“Luke isn’t well yet. I’m not leaving.”

At the mention of Luke, Shang Zhitao’s anger subsided. If something happened to Luke again tonight, she would be very frightened. No matter how strong she was outside, when making major decisions, she only needed a few seconds, but at home, facing Luke, she became that soft person again.

“Then go to the second bedroom!” Shang Zhitao snapped at him.

“I haven’t had dinner yet. Is this how you treat a guest?” Luan Nian snapped back, taking off his sweater to reveal a white T-shirt underneath as he entered the kitchen.

Shang Zhitao mocked him in her heart—he even knew about layering clothes, truly keeping up with youth trends. At the moment, she was too intimidated to mock him to his face. She was afraid Luan Nian would turn into a beast again, one she couldn’t control. She sat down with her laptop next to Luke to handle online work. Occasionally, she looked up at him—still those broad shoulders, that tight waistline, that attractive buttock line. Just from his back, you could tell he wasn’t someone to mess with.

She thought again of his words, “If it weren’t for wanting to be with you forever,” and felt that this man really couldn’t say nice things properly. Shang Zhitao stroked Luke’s head and said softly to him: “Your dad isn’t human. Your dad has a terrible mouth. Should we poison him to be mute?”

Luke disagreed. He stood up and barked once in protest, startling Shang Zhitao: “Why are you barking?”

“What’s wrong with a sick dog barking once? Why are you scolding him?” Luan Nian came out from the kitchen and said to Shang Zhitao: “Be gentler with Luke.”

…

After speaking, Luan Nian returned to the kitchen. There was still some food left in the refrigerator that he had bought previously. He stewed a fish, braised some ribs, and prepared to stir-fry two vegetable dishes. Just as the vegetables hit the wok with a sizzle, Shang Zhitao heard the door open. She looked up to see Old Shang and Da Zhai walking in with bags.

Luan Nian heard the sound and poked his head out from the kitchen, facing Old Shang and Da Zhai. The room fell silent.

Shang Zhitao hurriedly explained: “Luke is sick. He came to take care of Luke.”

“Hello, Uncle. Hello, Auntie.” Luan Nian greeted them politely, standing there with composure. He wasn’t afraid of people giving him dirty looks; in this lifetime, there were only a few people whose disapproval mattered to him, and Shang Zhitao’s parents were certainly among them.

“Dad, Mom, why are you here?”

“Not many customers at the restaurant today,” Da Zhai said, then realized: “We can’t come?”

“You can.”

Old Shang walked into the kitchen with his hands behind his back. He saw it filled with steam. Luan Nian was meticulous about cooking—color, aroma, and taste all had to be perfect. He was so demanding that he wouldn’t compromise even when cooking.

“It’s about to burn,” Old Shang pointed at the vegetable stir-fry pan, then strolled out, winking at Da Zhai with a secret smile.

Since they had arrived, they all ate together.

The meal was awkward. Luan Nian hadn’t won Shang Zhitao over yet and wasn’t her boyfriend—just Luke’s co-caretaker. So during the meal, they only talked about Luke.

Luan Nian finally understood where Shang Zhitao’s good manners came from—her parents were very well-mannered. Even on the day Da Zhai learned of his identity, she hadn’t been impolite to him in any way, just giving him a plate of peanuts without saying a single hurtful word.

The three of them sitting together looked like a family. Da Zhai sat upright in her chair, while Old Shang was slightly more relaxed, but still not as casual as ordinary people.

Old Shang asked Luan Nian: “Would you like a drink?”

“Yes.”

“No drinking!” He’s not your son-in-law, so why are you drinking with him? In this room with four people and a dog, Shang Zhitao could only control herself—who else would listen to her? Not even Luke would obey her.

Old Shang deliberately plied Luan Nian with alcohol, wanting to see his drinking etiquette. Luan Nian understood this; when Old Shang asked him to drink, he drank. By the end of the meal, they had finished a jin (500g) of baijiu—Luan Nian had seven liang (350g), Old Shang three liang (150g). After drinking, Luan Nian’s speech became slurred, but his logic remained intact, with no signs of agitation.

Old Shang and Da Zhai prepared to go home and asked Luan Nian: “Which hotel are you staying at?”

“The one nearby.”

“Shall we walk together?”

“Sure.”

Luan Nian stood up, put on his clothes, and walked out with them, swaying slightly. As he left, he said to Shang Zhitao: “It’s cold, don’t come out to see us off.”

Old Shang and Da Zhai watched Luan Nian enter the hotel and then left, reassured. Ten minutes later, a man walked out of the hotel with a slightly flushed face, walking steadily, heading straight for Shang Zhitao’s home. Old Shang had underestimated him—how much alcohol was that? Luan Nian’s alcohol tolerance had been built up over many years; he could still handle half a jin of baijiu at military meetings.

He went upstairs, entered the code himself, and walked in. Shang Zhitao had just changed into her pajamas and was surprised to hear the door lock and see him. With a defiant look, he took off his coat, retrieved his suitcase, opened it, took out his sleepwear, and walked to the second bedroom to change. Hearing Shang Zhitao’s footsteps following him, he smirked and pulled off his sweater and T-shirt in one go, revealing his attractive body.

Shang Zhitao had just reached the doorway when she saw this scene. Her face flushed crimson as she met Luan Nian’s teasing eyes: “Want me to take off one more piece for you?” His hand moved to his belt, slowly pulling it out and tossing it to the floor.

Shang Zhitao was driven crazy by Luan Nian and unconsciously responded in his tone: “Are you sick?” Then she turned and left.

This was the first time since their reunion that they were staying under the same roof—Luan Nian in the second bedroom, Shang Zhitao in the master bedroom. Deep into the night, neither could sleep, each listening for sounds from outside. Luan Nian’s heart pounded so loudly in his chest that he laughed at himself: “You’re not twenty anymore! Why are you so nervous?”

How could he not be nervous? The woman he thought about day and night was just across the hall. He couldn’t sleep. He got up to get some water, and after drinking, he went to find Shang Zhitao. Her bedroom door wasn’t locked; after all these years, she still trusted him.

Luan Nian pushed the door open. Behind him, the living room was dimly lit by a night light—just a night light. Shang Zhitao lay motionless on the bed.

In the faint light, Luan Nian saw her timid appearance and couldn’t help but laugh, then stopped and said to her: “Shang Zhitao, I know you’re not asleep. I want to say a few things to you. You don’t need to respond.”

“After you left, I thought everything through clearly, and I know how much you suffered during those years we were together. I know that when you started with me, it wasn’t because you wanted to be my bed partner, but because you loved me.”

“I know I was despicable, taking advantage of your love to mistreat you, but what I want to say is that I first started having feelings for you that day when I pushed open the coffee shop door and saw you sitting there properly. You were so formal, unlike a modern person.”

“I’m just that kind of stinking man, a bad man, someone who caused you pain for years. But what I want to say is that during those years, I also gave you my true heart. I know you could sense that too.”

“When I said I wanted to take care of Luke with you, I meant it. But what I want most is to take care of you and Luke. This life is still long, and I feel I’m not in a hurry. I will take it slowly.”

Shang Zhitao’s eyes grew hot, her nose slightly congested. She lay there motionless, processing Luan Nian’s words. She had wondered countless times if she wasn’t worthy of being loved in her twenties. Later, she understood that her greatest fortune was that no matter what she experienced at that time, she maintained her independent personality. Even later, in the howling wind and snow of Ice City, she recalled countless moments of being with Luan Nian, and she knew that he had truly loved her.

“I’m sorry. For everything back then.”

With these words, Luan Nian walked out and gently closed the door.