Chapter 2 (2/2)
“What are you laughing at? Feeling all lovey-dovey?” Lin Wei’s voice crackled through the phone, still connected.
Dropping the curtain, Mu Wan turned back to the living room.
“When I was leaving last night, I ran into Daoist Liu at the hospital.”
She quickly filled Lin Wei in on the stray cat, the muddy paw prints,
and the brief, quiet exchange in the parking lot.
“Ah? And then? And then?” Lin Wei was practically vibrating with
intrigue.
“I asked him if he liked cats. He said ‘mm.’ So I meowed at him,” Mu Wan
said casually, rinsing her toothbrush under the tap.
“Ah!” Lin Wei shrieked so loudly that Mu Wan had to pull the
phone away from her ear.
Once Lin Wei finally calmed down, she gasped.
“Brilliant, Miss Mu. Taking the unconventional route! Daoist Liu, who
has made countless women swoon, was actually won over by your single meow!”
“I didn’t win him over. I was just joking around.”
Mu Wan tilted her head, toothpaste still foaming at the corners of her
mouth, her words slightly garbled.
“I’m in perfectly good health. I won’t be ending up in the ER, and we
probably won’t even see each other again. Now stop talking. I need to rinse. I’ll
get ready and bring you your porridge.”
Mu Wan hung up in a hurry. The sink was in the bathroom. She grabbed the
glass she had been using from the living room table and rushed toward the
bathroom door.
The moment she stepped inside, her sock hit the wet tile.
Loud bang.
The sound of her body hitting the floor mixed with the sharp,
crystalline shattering of glass. A beat of silence. Then, a low, pained groan
drifted out from behind the closed door.
Twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes after declaring she was in perfectly good health and
would never end up in the ER, Mu Wan found herself flat on her back in
one.
Twenty minutes earlier, her foot had slipped on the damp tile, and she
had pitched straight forward. Instinctively, she tried to break her fall with
her hands. The glass cup in her left hand shattered on impact, and she landed
directly on the jagged shards. The broken pieces sliced through her skin,
piercing the soft flesh just below her left collarbone. Blood welled up
instantly, hot and startling against the cold tile. Through gritted teeth, she
had managed to call Lin Wei, who screamed into the phone, called an ambulance,
and rode with the paramedics straight to Mu Wan’s apartment.
The moment they entered the bathroom and saw the blood diluted in pink
swirls across the wet floor, Lin Wei stood frozen at the doorway, stomping her
foot and crying.
“Holy crap, Mu Wan, are you going to die or something?!”
Mu Wan, being carefully lifted onto a stretcher by the medical staff,
grimaced through the pain and almost laughed out loud.
Now, she lay in the emergency room. The morning ER exuded a damp,
antiseptic chill that seeped into her bones. Amidst the comings and goings of
nurses and the distant beeping of monitors, Mu Wan’s sense of pain gradually
sharpened into full, throbbing awareness.
Her head buzzed as she heard Lin Wei’s frantic voice say to the
approaching doctor.
“Doctor Liu, hurry and look at my friend! She pierced her heart!”
You just can’t run from fate.
Mu Wan looked up and met Liu Qianxiu’s deep, unfathomable eyes.
“Meow.” Mu Wan smiled.
Her lips were pale from biting them, but her smile was still radiant,
still teasing.
The little nurse beside her blinked, thoroughly confused by the
situation, and shot Mu Wan a strange look.
Lin Wei, hearing this, groaned with a mix of fury and relief.
“You still have the mood to joke around?!”
Liu Qianxiu’s expression remained perfectly calm. His eyelashes lowered
slightly, his gaze fixing on her wound as he said, his voice light and steady.
“Move your hand away for a moment.”
Mu Wan shifted her hand.
Her wound wasn’t bleeding as heavily as it had looked. It probably hadn’t
pierced anything vital. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, but there were no
signs of a pneumothorax. For now, it appeared to be a superficial—albeit
messy—injury.
After showering that morning, Mu Wan had put on an off-white camisole.
Now, the chest pad area was completely soaked through with blood, the fabric
clinging to her skin in a dark, wet patch.
Liu Qianxiu reached for the strap of her camisole, gently sliding it
down to expose the wound for examination.
Raw flesh met the cold air. The man leaned over slightly, bringing with
him a faint gust of cool air laced with the clean, sharp scent of disinfectant.
The sting made Mu Wan suck in a sharp breath through her teeth.
Lin Wei, catching sight of the wound from the side, clamped a hand over
her mouth.
“Oh, my god.”
The injury on Mu Wan’s chest could only be described as a bloody mess.
Fine, jagged cuts fanned out across the skin, still dotted with tiny fragments
of glass. Fortunately, the glass had shattered into small pieces on impact, so
none of the wounds were dangerously deep.
But while Mu Wan and Lin Wei were focused on the cuts, Liu Qianxiu’s
gaze had fixed on something else.
Just below the cluster of injuries, half-hidden beneath the smear of
blood, was a patch of vivid red. A birthmark shaped like a delicate bamboo
leaf—redder and more vibrant than the wound itself, carrying a quiet, almost
seductive charm against her pale skin.
It wasn’t just one leaf. The edge of another half peeked out beside it,
curling further down.
Liu Qianxiu’s expression remained composed. Without a word, he pulled
the camisole strap down a fraction further, his long fingers steady and
clinical.
Before the second bamboo leaf could be fully revealed, his hand was
caught by another.
“That’s not a wound,” Mu Wan said.
Her voice was thin with pain, but firm.
Liu Qianxiu raised his eyes.
“A birthmark?”
The location of her injury was, to put it mildly, awkward. If he had
pulled the strap down any further, her entire left breast would have been
exposed. He didn’t seem flustered by the near-exposure. If anything, his gaze
lingered on the half-revealed shape with a quiet, unreadable interest.
Mu Wan was in too much pain to string together a proper sentence.
Lin Wei, ever the translator, jumped in.
“It’s a birthmark. Doctor Liu, does it affect the treatment of the
wound?”
“No.”
Liu Qianxiu looked at the half-revealed bamboo leaf one last time. His
dark eyes remained as deep and still as ever, betraying nothing.
Then, in a voice as calm as still water, he said,
“I just think it’s quite beautiful.”
