Chapter 18 (1/2)
Mu Wan was so feverish she must have been imagining things.
She thought she saw Liu Qianxiu’s lips curve slightly.
It was only the faintest hint of a smile, but it drifted toward her lonely heart like a small boat crossing open water.
She wanted to see it more clearly, so she widened her eyes.
Two pills were held out to her.
Without thinking, she took them into her mouth. Her tongue brushed across the tablets—and along with them, across the center of the palm holding them. It was dry and cool.
Mu Wan was burning with fever. The tip of her tongue was hot. When it skimmed his palm, it left behind a soft, damp warmth. Once it withdrew, the air touched the spot, cool again.
Liu Qianxiu lowered his lashes slightly, withdrew his hand, and raised the bottle of water toward her.
Like a kitten, Mu Wan lowered her head and drank two small mouthfuls from the mouth of the bottle.
The pills did not seem to go down properly. Her whole face scrunched up. One hand wrapped around the bottle as she tipped her head back and gulped twice more. Even after swallowing, her brows remained drawn together. A fine sheen of sweat had already appeared across her forehead—it was hard to tell whether it came from fever or bitterness.
“Have some candy,” Liu Qianxiu said, looking at the little knot between her brows.
“It isn’t bitter.” Mu Wan had broken into a layer of cool sweat. Her expression loosened again, and she hugged the cotton-candy bouquet tighter against herself. “It really isn’t.”
The nasal weight in her voice had deepened, and with the bouquet in her arms, her whole spirit visibly sank.
Someone outside said, “It’s raining again.”
On the street, the slow-moving crowd picked up speed. Under the streetlights, the rain had begun weaving itself down more densely.
“Let’s go back,” Liu Qianxiu said.
“We haven’t eaten yet,” Mu Wan said.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Mu Wan thought about it, then shook her head.
With the fever burning through her, she had no appetite at all.
“Come on,” Liu Qianxiu said.
Then he led her outside and flagged down a cab.
The taxi was a little cold. Mu Wan, burning hot all over, leaned against the window and pressed one fingertip against the raindrops as they gathered on the glass and then slid down. Each trailing drop left behind a streak. Outside, the lights of the commercial street blurred and brightened, blurred and brightened again.
Hazy with fever, she heard Liu Qianxiu give the driver the address.
Then she closed her eyes.
The commercial street was very close to the Wencheng Hotel. A few minutes later, the driver pulled up outside the entrance. Inside the taxi, the meter was printing the receipt with a tearing, buzzing sound.
“Your girlfriend doesn’t look well,” the driver said as he tore off the slip and held it out to Liu Qianxiu. “Looks like she’s fallen asleep.”
Liu Qianxiu turned his head and glanced once at Mu Wan, asleep against the door.
He took the receipt and said only, “She has a fever.”
Then he paid, thanked the driver, stepped out, walked around to Mu Wan’s side of the car, bent one finger, and tapped on the window.
She had not been asleep long enough to sink deeply. Her eyes opened, and she looked out through the glass.
Liu Qianxiu stood outside the car, expression composed, looking down at her.
Once he saw she was awake, he opened the door. Mu Wan’s body tipped forward with the motion, and the man caught her with one hand on her shoulder.
His hand was large against her slight shoulder, the temperature of his skin passing through the cotton of her T-shirt—his coolness meeting her heat.
“We’re here,” Liu Qianxiu said calmly, straightening herself up again.
“Okay,” Mu Wan said, coughing once. Then she got out of the car, still clutching the cotton candy.
By now, the fever medicine was beginning to work. The moment they entered the lobby, Mu Wan’s pace noticeably slowed.
The elevator arrived. Liu Qianxiu stepped in. Mu Wan followed after him.
The huge elevator held only the two of them.
Liu Qianxiu pressed his floor number and turned, about to ask hers—
Before he could speak, something light settled onto his left shoulder.
A faint shift passed through his gaze. He looked down toward it.
Mu Wan had run out of strength. She was still standing there, still holding the cotton-candy bouquet, but her head had tipped over onto his shoulder. Her eyes were closed. Her lips were pressed together. Her long lashes cast a half-ring of shadow beneath them.
Liu Qianxiu withdrew his gaze and pressed the elevator control again.
The doors had not yet fully closed when a burst of quick footsteps approached. The doors slid open once more, and four or five people entered.
At the front was a tall, slender woman with short hair. She was in the middle of a phone call. As she entered, she swept one glance through the elevator, her gaze pausing in turn on Liu Qianxiu and then on Mu Wan—before settling on the cotton-candy bouquet in Mu Wan’s hands.
Something flickered through her eyes.
Her long brows lifted slightly, carrying with them the beauty mark at the corner of her eye.
The others filed in as well, pressed their buttons, and the elevator doors closed again, sealing the woman’s voice inside the confined space.
“Don’t send flowers to the production again,” she was saying into the phone, her tone soft and intimate. “It disrupts filming, and people are starting to complain. No, it’s not that I don’t like them...”
As she spoke, the corner of her eye passed faintly over Mu Wan.
Mu Wan’s eyes remained closed. Her expression did not change.
Ding.
The elevator reached the fifteenth floor.
As the doors opened, Liu Qianxiu turned and said quietly, “Mu Wan.”
She did not move.
Her breathing, coming through her nose, was slow and even.
She had fallen asleep for real.
The doors began to give their warning beeps.
“Sorry,” Liu Qianxiu said in his low voice.
Then he slipped one arm around the woman beside him, lifted her cleanly into his arms, and carried her out of the elevator.
The small elevator still smelled faintly of sweet cotton candy.
Someone inside let out a soft little gasp.
Mu Qing’s eyes swept sideways.
At once, the young assistant beside her, whose face had gone dreamy with envy, hurriedly smoothed her expression and lowered her head.
Liu Qianxiu carried the sleeping Mu Wan back to his room.
He had one of the staff in the corridor open the door with a room card. Once inside, he lay her down on the bed.
The bedside lamp came on, bathing the woman in warm light. The fever was uncomfortable. Even asleep, she still frowned faintly. Her breathing was heavy but even, drawing in cool air and exhaling hot air.
Standing beside the bed, Liu Qianxiu lifted a hand and touched her forehead.
Still hot.
But she had already taken the medicine. After a night’s sleep, she would be fine.
Outside, the rain was growing stronger, striking the glass in sharp little bursts.
Liu Qianxiu lifted his hand from Mu Wan’s forehead. It stopped instead on the cotton candy she was still holding.
It was a huge bouquet, layered with white, blue, and pink. Each layer was fluffy and full, without a single missing corner, as perfect as if it had just been made. She had said it was the first sweet flower she had ever received.
And yet after taking the medicine, she had scrunched her face up at the bitterness without ever taking a single bite of it.
His lashes stirred once.
Liu Qianxiu lifted the cotton candy and set it into the mouth of the same glass cup she had drunk from before.
Then he went to the desk.
Instead of switching on the computer, he took out a book.
Only two places in the room were lit now—one by the bed, one by the desk. Between those two circles of light stood the glass holding the cotton-candy bouquet.
Silence deepened through the room.
Liu Qianxiu lowered his eyes and read, his face calm, while outside the rain slowly blurred into nothing. Soon, the only sound left was that steady, even breathing from the bed, as if each breath breathed warm, damp air directly against his heart.
When Mu Wan woke, the light was still on.
At the washstand beside the bed, Liu Qianxiu was washing his face. Perhaps he sensed her waking, because with both hands braced on the sink, he raised his eyes and looked at her. His black eyes looked newly washed,d too clean and clear.
Once he had confirmed she was awake, he took up a towel, stepped away from the sink, and asked, “Did I wake you?”
“No,” Mu Wan said.
After burning all night, she still felt weak, but much better. The fever was gone. She pushed herself upright on the bed.
After drying his face, Liu Qianxiu walked over and placed his hand lightly against her forehead.
His palm was cool, still carrying a trace of water he had not fully wiped away.
Mu Wan’s heart jumped softly. She tipped her face up to look at him.
He looked down at her, too.
Then, after checking, he withdrew his hand.
“The fever’s gone down.”
Even so, she had only just come off a fever and was still a little hazy. Mu Wan looked at him in a daze.
The laptop on the desk was still on. Beside it stood two glass cups—one holding cotton candy, and one with half a cup of water left in it, clearly something he had drunk from.
Mu Wan’s whole body seemed to flush hot again.
Like some little creature buried in snow, she looked at Liu Qianxiu with bright, shining eyes and asked, “You didn’t leave last night?”
He had been shutting down the computer.
At her words, he turned to look at her.
Only then did Mu Wan come back to herself.
What did she mean, didn’t leave?
This was his room.
“I just got back,” Liu Qianxiu said lightly.
“I slept in your bed again.”
Still weak, her voice sounded thin and clear as a sheet of paper. Climbing down from the bed, Mu Wan said to him, “I didn’t get to treat you to dinner yesterday, and I caused you trouble by making you bring me back and look after me. Let’s eat together today instead. The same restaurant.”
The sincerity in her voice was unmistakable.
She looked up at him. After a night of illness, the flush had drained from her face, leaving her pale and almost translucent, with only a little red left on her lips. Even so, none of her brightness had faded.
Liu Qianxiu picked up the cotton candy and handed it to her. Then he gathered the cups and said lightly, “There’s no need.”
Holding the cotton candy, Mu Wan smiled.
Sweetness fizzed from the tip of her tongue down to the center of her chest.
Looking at Liu Qianxiu, she said, “You don’t want to eat? Then what do you want?”
Liu Qianxiu looked back at her.
The smile at the corner of her lips, the light in her eyes—her words seemed innocent on the surface, but perhaps they were not entirely innocent underneath.
“I’m leaving,” Liu Qianxiu said after a brief pause. “I’ll be leaving Wencheng this afternoon.”
The light in her eyes dimmed slowly.
Mu Wan’s smile disappeared.
The research conference did not take place in only one city. After leaving Wencheng on Wednesday morning, Liu Qianxiu would continue on to Jingcheng for the next part. The conference would end on Friday morning, and only then would he return to Xiacheng.
So yes, the conference truly lasted a week.
Just not a week in Wencheng.
The balcony doors were cracked open, letting in a trace of damp air after the rain. Mu Wan’s nose felt a little stuffy again. With the faintest nasal trace in her voice, she asked, “Then what time are you leaving? I’ll go see you off.”
Liu Qianxiu’s lips pressed together slightly. Seeing how weak she still looked, he said, “We’ll see each other again soon.”
“This way would make it sooner,” Mu Wan said.
His gaze paused.
Mu Wan looked up at his clear, fine-boned face. Under the overcast sky, the room’s light did little. Shadow made his features only sharper, more delicate.
She smiled, eyes bright.
“The later we part,” she said, “the sooner we get to meet again.”
It was a kind of relative sooner.
If they parted in the morning, then their next meeting was still three and a half days away. If they parted at noon, then the distance between them shrank to only three.
Whether Liu Qianxiu’s mind could follow her particular logic or not was another matter.
After she finished, she saw his throat move once. Then he answered, low and steady.
“All right.”
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