Incurable Chapter 19 Part 3

Chapter 19 (3/3)

The car pulled away from the villa and soon merged onto the coastal road.

By six o’clock, clouds had spread across the sky, leaving even the sunlight draped in a dull gray veil.

In the passenger seat, Mu Wan held the plum Xu Xingkong had given her. It felt cool in her hand, its skin red and glossy, sweet-looking even before the first bite.

She thought again of Xu Xingkong.

The woman had such an easy presence, like a faint breeze carrying a touch of lavender. Glancing at Liu Qianxiu beside her, Mu Wan said, “Your friends are all really wonderful.”

Even without meeting Liu Qianxiu’s classmate in person, seeing Xu Xingkong was enough to know he must be a good person. Xu Xingkong was gentle, and when she mentioned her husband, the smile at the corners of her eyes could not be hidden. Any man who could make a woman like that happy—and who could be Liu Qianxiu’s friend—must be someone very good indeed.

“Mm,” Liu Qianxiu answered, eyes on the road.

Mu Wan looked at him and added, “I want them to become my friends too.”

The moment the words fell, Liu Qianxiu glanced sideways at her.

Mu Wan turned her head toward him, the red plum poised by her mouth. When she saw him look over, she paused, smiled, and asked, “Would that not be allowed?”

His eyes dropped from hers to the curve of her mouth. Then he looked at the plum in her hand and said, “Don’t eat that on an empty stomach.”

Her teeth had already nicked the skin. The thin peel had broken, and a little of the plum’s sweetness had already touched her tongue, spreading faintly through her body.

She lowered the plum.

Her slender fingers wrapped around the little red fruit.

“Oh,” she said softly. “I know.”

By the time they got back to Liu Qianxiu’s place from the south district, it was already after seven.

Mu Wan took the carriers into the cat room and let the three little ones out. Liu Qianxiu went into the kitchen to start dinner.

Only a few days apart, and the kittens were already able to stand.

Tiny bodies. Short little legs. All fluff and softness. They tottered clumsily toward her hand the moment it came close.

Mu Wan touched this one, then that one, listening to their milky little cries until her heart had gone soft as cotton.

Once the three little ones had been fed and settled, Mu Wan got up and headed toward the kitchen.

Before she reached the door, her vision darkened.

She looked down.

Zhouyi was sitting in the doorway, its pale gold eyes fixed on her.

It was not an especially clingy cat—or at least Mu Wan had never seen it act clingy with anyone. It was a black little shadow by nature, and fond of disappearing into corners. Usually, it only emerged after she and Liu Qianxiu had already finished eating, strolling in with complete leisure and dignity.

Now it sat in the doorway staring up at her, and Mu Wan could not tell what it wanted.

She bent down slowly.

Looking at Zhouyi, she hesitated only a moment before reaching out.

When her hand came to rest on top of its head, Zhouyi did not move away. Her palm settled there, and Zhouyi half-closed its eyes and pressed its furry little head into her hand.

“Meow~”

Something flickered in Mu Wan’s eyes.

It was acting coquettishly toward her.

And what did that mean?

It meant that Zhouyi had grown used to her presence.

It meant Zhouyi already thought of her as part of this home.

Something bloomed inside Mu Wan’s heart like a flower.

She stood at once and went straight to the kitchen.

“Liu Qianxiu! Zhouyi just acted spoiled with me!”

The kitchen glowed with warm light.

The man stood by the table, which was already set with all the dishes she had asked for that night. Liu Qianxiu looked up at her, and with the lights of the city shining beyond the window, the corner of his mouth lifted just slightly.

“Time to eat,” he said.

And in that moment, Mu Wan wished the rest of her life could pass exactly like this.

After dinner, Liu Qianxiu rose to clear the table.

Mu Wan lifted a hand immediately.

“I’ll wash the dishes.”

Ever since she had started coming here, Liu Qianxiu had done all the cooking and all the dishes. Other than playing with the cats, she had done nothing. It was not that she had not wanted to help—she had offered the first time she ever ate here—but Liu Qianxiu had refused. He had his own order for doing things, and he disliked having it broken.

Before he could refuse her again, Mu Wan thought quickly and added, “I can’t just keep doing noth—”

“All right,” Liu Qianxiu said.

Mu Wan looked up in surprise.

He gathered the dishes and set them in the sink. She hurried over after him.

The furnishings in Liu Qianxiu’s living room looked like antiques.

The kitchen, on the other hand, felt much more modern—but even then, it was mostly the appliances and utensils that gave that impression. The bowls and plates themselves still carried the beauty of old things.

Liu Qianxiu cooked lightly, and his dishes were easy to wash.

Mu Wan did not bother with gloves. She picked up a white porcelain bowl so fine and translucent it almost seemed to glow. The body of it was thin and delicate, light in her hand.

After turning on the tap, she began washing very carefully.

Before she started, she had tied her hair up. It now sat in a loose, fluffy bundle, while her face remained smooth and pale as porcelain—small and beautiful.

Outside, the night sky was thick and black, starless.

Inside, the kitchen light was soft.

The woman stood at the sink in her dress, lashes lowered, expression quiet.

It did not look as if she had ever washed dishes before.

And yet she washed them as if it were the first time.

Her long fingers braced delicately inside the bowl, moving along the rim with slow, careful precision.

The sound of the running water filled the room, like mountain water flowing over stone—peaceful, calm.

Liu Qianxiu suddenly remembered something Huai Jing had said.

Mu Wan washed while Liu Qianxiu stood there the whole time, which made her a little nervous. She looked up at him, a small bowl still in her hands, her eyes bright.

“Are you afraid I’ll break them? Are they antiques or something?”

Liu Qianxiu looked at her.

Before he could answer—

crack.

The bowl slipped from Mu Wan’s hand and shattered in the sink.

A Northern Song Ru-ware white porcelain bowl.

“Ah!”

It was exactly the thing she had been trying not to do. Mu Wan’s heart jumped. Looking at the shards in the sink, she reached instinctively to pick them up.

Before she could touch them, someone caught her wrist.

The fingers wrapped around her were long and fine-boned, and though they held her firmly, there was no real force in them.

Mu Wan looked up at Liu Qianxiu.

He guided her hand back out of the sink, reached over, and turned off the tap. Then he took a cloth and carefully dried her hand, his lashes lowered.

With the water gone, his voice sounded especially low and clear in the kitchen.

“If it breaks, it breaks. It isn’t anything valuable.” He looked at her hand. “Don’t cut yourself.”

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