Liang Chengmin’s sudden collapse frightened Luan Mingrui to death. He carried her and ran straight to the hospital. After a brief moment of dizziness, Liang Chengmin opened her eyes in Luan Mingrui’s arms, but feeling unwell, she closed them again. At the hospital, the emergency doctor recognized Liang Chengmin and asked, “What happened to Dr. Liang?” When the doctors and nurses heard that Dr. Liang had fainted, and since there weren’t many patients at the time, they gathered around to check on her. The experienced emergency doctor could tell at a glance that Liang Chengmin was suffering from exhaustion and low blood sugar, so he criticized Luan Mingrui: “How are you taking care of your wife? Making her not eat or sleep properly until she faints. What good is a husband like you? She’d be better off with someone who knows how to care for her!”

Luan Mingrui stood there listening, saying nothing. All thoughts of divorce and dignity vanished—he was dying of worry.

When Liang Chengmin’s dizziness passed and she opened her eyes, seeing Luan Mingrui sitting beside her, her grievances welled up again. Her lips trembled, and tears came pouring down.

Luan Mingrui held her hand and whispered, “Don’t cry. I apologize to you.”

“What are you apologizing for? You did nothing wrong! Weren’t you insistent on divorcing? Just wait until my father brings back the documents, and I’ll go process the paperwork with you!”

“You’re the one who brought up divorce,” Luan Mingrui reminded her.

“I say divorce, and you just divorce me? When I said I wouldn’t marry you, why didn’t you listen then?” Liang Chengmin felt utterly wronged. “I do want to divorce you!” She was so angry with Luan Mingrui that after fainting, she had firmly decided to divorce him. Now he was apologizing? Too late!

After her glucose drip, Liang Chengmin walked home with Luan Mingrui following behind.

“Don’t follow me! We’re not close!”

Luan Mingrui said nothing and just kept following. When they reached Liang Chengmin’s home, she blocked him at the door: “You’re not allowed in!”

Luan Mingrui looked at her, then called out loudly: “Mom!” Liang’s mother came out from inside, saw the two quarreling at the door, and said, “If you’re going to argue, come inside! Close the door.” They were grown adults—if these two stubborn people wanted to divorce, they would have done it already. Why put on all these shows one after another?

Just like children playing house!

Liang’s mother was an experienced woman who had weathered the storms of this small town and had taught for many years. She saw through everything. Looking at them, she said, “I’m going to get some oil,” and left.

Only the two of them remained in the house. Luan Mingrui reached for her hand, but she dodged him, hiding her hands behind her back: “Don’t touch me!”

“I can’t touch my wife?”

“Who’s your wife? We’re getting divorced!”

“I won’t divorce you!”

“It’s too late! I must divorce you!” Liang Chengmin’s eyes were red: “You go eat your meals, I’ll drink my alcohol, we’ll leave each other alone!” She threw his heartless words right back at him.

Luan Mingrui couldn’t help but laugh at her anger.

He was usually the one angering others, until he met this tough cookie Liang Chengmin. How tough was she? Luan Mingrui felt he had only met one person like her in his life—someone who held her head high and would never bend, even if it killed her. Tougher and more merciless than him.

He didn’t know what to do next.

He just looked at Liang Chengmin for a long time, then finally said: “I’ll come back when you’ve calmed down. If you still want a divorce, then I’ll respect your wishes.” Then he left.

Who doesn’t have pride? Luan Mingrui thought. The next day, he packed his things and left town.

Luan Mingrui got married at almost thirty, and he didn’t understand that sometimes women need to be coaxed, that he needed to humble himself and coax her properly. In his heart, he just felt that Liang Chengmin shouldn’t have gone drinking with her male classmate studying medicine. It was also because before, Liang Chengmin’s family wanted her to marry a doctor, teacher, or worker, and because Luan Mingcheng had once said Liang Chengmin had been involved with a doctor. Previously, he thought it impossible that Liang Chengmin could have been with someone else—she didn’t understand anything. But when he saw that doctor supporting her while she was drunk, he thought perhaps they had been together. He didn’t know why he cared so much, probably because in his relationship with Liang Chengmin, he had always been the initiator, while she seemed reluctant. She didn’t seem to have much enthusiasm for their marriage, probably because she had reached marrying age, was pressured by her family, and happened to meet someone as persistent as him, so she married him.

His business was very hard. How easy could a seafood business be? When necessary, he often had to carry things himself, resulting in bruises all over his body, always bearing some injuries. But before, when he went out of town, he would write letters or send telegrams to Liang Chengmin, thinking of her every day. This time, there were no letters, no telegrams—and the relationship between them grew cold.

Luan Mingrui felt terrible but didn’t know what to say, afraid Liang Chengmin would mock him. These two weeks felt like hell, and he felt he could barely go on living.

He didn’t know how Liang Chengmin had spent these two weeks while he was gone. He thought she must be quite comfortable.

When he returned, the trees in the small town were already sprouting new buds.

How beautiful this year’s spring was. He wanted to find Liang Chengmin first, went to her hospital and found out she had the day off. He went to her home, paced outside the door for a long time, but couldn’t bring himself to enter.

So he returned to his parents’ home for dinner.

His parents asked him: “Should we invite Minmin over for dinner tonight? While you were away, Minmin often came to take care of us.”

“What did she take care of?”

“Quite a lot. Ask her yourself.”

After dinner, Luan Mingrui returned home, placed his luggage at the door, and pushed it open. In the courtyard, he saw someone hanging bedding to dry, standing on tiptoes with arms stretched, her two thick braids—who else could it be but Liang Chengmin?

Liang Chengmin heard the gate and turned to look at him. Why had he lost so much weight? Hadn’t he been eating properly?

He walked in and closed the door.

He asked her: “Not working today?”

“No.”

“Then listen to what I have to say.”

“Go ahead.” Liang Chengmin had been missing him terribly. She never knew loving someone could feel like this—after their fight, her heart and soul were torn apart. She had insisted on divorce, but when he left without a word, she missed him. Sometimes, wanting to know if he was doing well, she would visit her mother-in-law, who would show her his letters.

They had known each other for too short a time before getting married.

Neither understood the other well, nor knew what they meant to each other, always feeling the other had married out of compromise. They didn’t know—which one of them was compromising? If they could truly compromise, would they have waited until such an age to marry?

“I missed you a lot during these two weeks away.”

“If you missed me, why didn’t you write to me? Why didn’t you send a telegram?” Liang Chengmin asked him: “Is that how you miss someone?” Even a single word would have let her know he was fine, where he was, so that when she thought of him, she would know where to look!

“Weren’t you the one who said you wanted a divorce?”

“Yes, and I still want a divorce!” Liang Chengmin had always been stubborn, her heart burning hot, but her mouth refusing to yield. Working at the hospital, even when she was anxious about patients, her words came out as lectures.

“Then let’s go now.”

“Go where? What time is it? They’re closed!” Liang Chengmin glared at him—how could he not understand where he went wrong! She turned and went inside, bringing out a letter for him: “Read this now.”

Luan Mingrui opened the letter and saw Liang Chengmin’s handwriting. She had written a self-criticism for him, stating that he shouldn’t have slandered Liang Chengmin, that Liang Chengmin had the freedom to dine with members of the opposite sex (not alone), and that he should trust Liang Chengmin.

That parenthesis was quite amusing.

He returned the letter to her: “I won’t read it.”

“You haven’t seen the second page yet.”

“I don’t want to look anymore.” Luan Mingrui would rather die than bend: “If you’ll only stay married if I read this letter, then let’s go process the divorce directly. I won’t read it.”

Liang Chengmin finally understood what kind of person Luan Mingrui was—all the rumors about him were true. He was rigid and cold. Even though on the second page she had written her self-criticism: that she shouldn’t have gotten drunk with men and been escorted back to the dormitory by a man alone, that she shouldn’t have hastily mentioned divorce, and that she missed him very much.

“Then I’ll read it,” Liang Chengmin turned to the second page: “After I finish reading, first thing tomorrow morning, we’ll go process the divorce.”

She began reading her page, but just as she started, Luan Mingrui stepped forward and embraced her tightly. Liang Chengmin kicked and bit him—she was utterly aggrieved. Others called her the Iron Lady, but she had been brought to tears by Luan Mingrui several times!

“I must divorce you. You’ve had your chance. I don’t want to live with someone with such a terrible temper. I don’t want to compromise my entire life just to be with you!” Liang Chengmin struggled in his arms, but Luan Mingrui held her firmly, constantly repeating “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Stop reading, Liang Chengmin,” Luan Mingrui held her tightly: “It hurts me.”

They were both people who would break rather than bend, but in a marriage, many things don’t need to be spelled out so clearly, and it’s not always necessary for someone to bow their head. His reddened eyes and her falling tears were both unspoken apologies—no one understands everything from the beginning.

Luan Mingrui regretted deeply, wiping away her tears: “Liang Chengmin, you can do anything you like in the future, I won’t interfere. I’ll only restrain myself.”

“I don’t want you to not care about me, I want you to trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“You’re lying! If you trusted me, you wouldn’t have acted this way!” Liang Chengmin sobbed, and Luan Mingrui cupped her face, lowering his head to kiss her.

“Don’t kiss me.” Despite her words, her hands clutched his collar, her eyes slightly closed.

“Liang Chengmin,” Luan Mingrui said against her lips, “Every day I was away, I missed you so much. I hope you’re like me—not married out of compromise.”

Hearing this, Liang Chengmin opened her eyes: “If I could compromise, I would have married long ago.”

“Speak properly.”

“Anyway, I didn’t compromise.”

“Then why did you marry me?” Luan Mingrui cupped her face: “Why? I married you because I had feelings for you; no one else would do. If it wasn’t for you, I would have remained single my whole life. What about you?”

Liang Chengmin’s lips touched his: “Because I love you. Now you can kiss me.”

When they were apart, she missed him terribly, her heart aching unbearably. She would go home, and her mother would ask: Has Mingrui written? She didn’t know what to say. Work was fine because it kept her busy. But returning home after work, she was alone.

Back then, Luan Mingrui had firmly refused to live with his parents after marriage, moving to the old house just before they wed. When Liang Chengmin returned to the old house, it felt empty; when she went to her parents’ home, it felt like there was no trace of Luan Mingrui, so she would return to their little home.

He didn’t write to her, and she didn’t feel right asking his family where exactly he was, so she could only think of him constantly, thinking until her heart ached.

That day, they were both very eager—a newly married couple who had such a big fight and were separated for so many days; every cell in their bodies yearned for each other. Luan Mingrui carried her into the bedroom, kicked the door shut, and began to tear at her clothes.

Liang Chengmin was like water, letting him scoop her up and set her down as he pleased, following his lead completely.

In a moment of intense passion, Liang Chengmin even had the illusion that a seed was sprouting within her.

After that day, the young couple’s happiness was truly genuine. Liang Chengmin became like Luan Mingrui’s little tail, following him after work; wherever she went, he went. Luan Mingrui was particularly fond of taking her through the streets and alleys, introducing her to acquaintances: “My wife, Liang Chengmin.”

More than ten days later, when Liang Chengmin got up one morning, she retched.

Luan Mingrui, who was putting on his shoes, looked back at her: “What’s wrong?”

“If I’m pregnant, what should we name our child?” Liang Chengmin was a doctor herself; she had felt she was pregnant for several days, but she was too lazy to check.

“?” Luan Mingrui’s heart skipped a beat, though he thought it wouldn’t happen so quickly. Nevertheless, he gave it serious thought: “How about Luan Nian?”

“Why?”

“It sounds nice.”

Liang Chengmin was pregnant. She counted the days herself and realized it was from the day they reconciled. That day, she had felt something, sensing everything was particularly abundant.

Throughout her pregnancy, she experienced constant vomiting, which was unusual—most people’s symptoms disappear or alleviate after three months. But not for her. After three months, she was still vomiting. She would vomit after eating.

Liang Chengmin was tormented by this child to the point of being unrecognizable.

Other pregnant women gradually gain a little weight, but for her, apart from her growing belly, her arms and legs remained thin.

Luan Mingrui was heartbroken. He was very dissatisfied with this child. Sometimes he couldn’t help but point at Liang Chengmin’s belly and say: “Just wait until you come out, see how I deal with you!”

“Why don’t you know how to care for others? Your mother suffered so much carrying you. Can’t you stop tormenting her?”

As if in protest, the child moved in her belly.

Liang Chengmin told him: “I have a feeling this child’s temperament might not be so good.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes when you scold him, he seems displeased.”

“What does he understand?”

Luan Mingrui cared deeply for her and asked what she wanted to eat. She said: “Shrimp.”

So Luan Mingrui rolled up his sleeves and made shrimp for her. Fearing she might get tired of it, he prepared shrimp in various ways. The Luan family, from top to bottom, was all particular, and Luan Mingrui was no exception. When he cooked, the appearance, aroma, and taste all had to be perfect, as if he were crafting a work of art.

When he prepared shrimp, he first removed the veins, steamed them halfway, then stir-fried them. The color of the stir-fried shrimp was beautiful. He would also prepare a dish of stir-fried greens and a glass of milk.

There were osmanthus flowers in the south, and Luan Mingrui’s mother had managed to preserve some. If they could get milk at home, the children could drink delicious osmanthus milk.

Luan Mingrui made osmanthus milk for Liang Chengmin, which she particularly enjoyed.

The year Liang Chengmin was pregnant, Luan Mingrui didn’t go away; he had to take care of her. He would get up first to make breakfast, eat with her, then send her to work. He would then go to the cargo yard, rushing back home at ten o’clock to prepare lunch—a balanced meal with both meat and vegetables. He would pack it in ceramic containers and bring it to the hospital, keep her company while she ate, chat with her for a while, then head back. He would go to various departments to handle documents, check on shipments at the cargo yard, instruct Luan Mingcheng on what to do, then go to the hospital to pick up Liang Chengmin after work.

He never missed a day.

Seeing them together all the time, the hospital staff would tease: “Tsk tsk, how sweet!”