"Sister, what's wrong?" The little girl asked, noticing Shen Jintang's absent-minded appearance.
Shen Jintang came to her senses and did not answer, but simply said, "Do my sister a favor."
...
When Gu Zhixing pushed open the courtyard gate, dusk had already fallen.
He subconsciously rubbed the mud off his shoes on the stone slab at the entrance, then patted off the fishy smell on his sleeves before tiptoeing into the courtyard.
The courtyard was unusually quiet; even the old yellow dog, who usually dozed off by the wall, was nowhere to be seen.
Gu Zhixing's heart tightened, and he unconsciously slowed his pace even further.
He had just stepped across the threshold when he heard a soft sound coming from inside the room.
"Shen Jintang?"
He called out tentatively, his voice sounding particularly abrupt in the empty room.
There was no response.
Gu Zhixing frowned and quietly stuffed the money pouch he was holding into his sleeve.
The money bag was light and flimsy, containing only a few dozen coins earned from carrying goods at the dock that day, not even enough to buy a good dose of medicine.
He rubbed his sore shoulders and walked towards the inner room.
He froze on the spot as soon as he turned around the screen.
"You're back?"
Shen Jintang was leaning against the door frame, her skin appearing almost transparent against her plain white undergarment.
Her once bright, star-like eyes were now veiled in shadow, yet they still gazed precisely in his direction.
Her lips were tightly pressed together, without a trace of a smile.
"Jin Tang, why are you standing here?" Gu Zhixing suppressed his unease and spoke in a very soft voice, "The doctor said you need to rest more."
Shen Jintang did not answer, but simply turned her head slightly, as if trying to catch some message in the air.
Gu Zhixing then remembered that he still carried the distinctive fishy smell of the dock, and involuntarily took a half step back.
"Come here," Shen Jintang suddenly said, her voice eerily calm.
Gu Zhixing hesitated for a moment, but still walked forward.
He stopped a step away from her, and could smell the faint medicinal fragrance emanating from her.
“Hands,” she said again.
He hesitated and reached out his hand, but it was stopped in mid-air by a pair of cold hands.
Shen Jintang's fingertips gently brushed across his palm, the movement as delicate as if she were painting a picture.
Gu Zhixing's hand trembled uncontrollably—the newly formed blisters and calluses were clearly visible under her fingertips.
Shen Jintang's breathing suddenly became rapid, and she gripped his hand tightly with astonishing force.
Does it hurt?
She asked, her voice carrying a sharpness that Gu Zhixing had never heard before.
"It doesn't hurt." He lied instinctively, then felt her nails almost digging into his flesh. "...A little."
"Serves you right!"
Shen Jintang let go of her hand, turned around, and groped her way to the table.
Gu Zhixing then noticed that the food was already laid out on the table: a plate of stir-fried vegetables, a bowl of ham and bamboo shoots with an amber sheen, and his favorite crab meat lion's head meatballs, steaming hot.
Beside it, a celadon bowl held glistening white rice, and a bowl of mushroom and chicken soup exuded a rich aroma.
"Eat first," she said, her back to him, her voice as cold as ice.
Gu Zhixing stood still.
The atmosphere inside the room was so tense it was suffocating. He could sense Shen Jintang's suppressed anger, but he didn't know where it came from.
"Jin Tang, what's wrong with you?" he asked cautiously.
Shen Jintang suddenly turned around, and his lifeless eyes seemed to see right through his soul.
“Gu Zhixing,” she said, emphasizing each word, “why didn’t you tell me you were short of money? Did you think I was blind and couldn’t help you?”
Gu Zhixing was struck dumb, unable to utter a word for a moment.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, finally only able to weakly protest, "No... that's not what I meant..."
"What do you mean by that?" Shen Jintang's voice suddenly rose. "He leaves home before dawn every day and doesn't come back until the middle of the night, his body reeking of fish and sweat, his hands covered in blisters—do you really think I can't smell it? Can't feel it?"
Gu Zhixing's heart clenched painfully. He should have known he couldn't hide it from her.
Even though she is blind, Shen Jintang's sense of smell and touch are ten times more acute than that of ordinary people.
Those details he thought he had concealed so well were completely exposed in front of her.
"The doctor said you need to rest and relax during this time..." he explained in a low voice, his voice trailing off, "I don't want you to worry about these things..."
"I'm not annoyed?" Shen Jintang sneered. "Gu Zhixing, you come home exhausted every day and still pretend nothing's wrong. Do you think I can't see... or feel it? This makes me even angrier, and it's even worse for your condition!"
Gu Zhixing was speechless.
Looking at her pale face, he suddenly realized what a stupid mistake he had made.
He always thought about protecting her, but he forgot that what she hated most was being treated as a weak person who needed protection.
"I'm sorry..." he said with difficulty, "I just... didn't want you to worry..."
Shen Jintang took a deep breath and groped her way to sit down at the table.
"Let's eat," her voice softened a bit, but it was still cold. "It'll get cold if we don't eat now."
Gu Zhixing mechanically walked to the table, sat down, picked up his rice bowl, and began to eat.
He glanced at Shen Jintang and noticed that she was pursing her lips, not happy.
“Jin Tang…” He put down his bowl, mustered his courage and took her hand. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that I want to take responsibility myself. I always have to take care of you.”
Shen Jintang understood what he was thinking, and even if she wanted to get angry, she couldn't.
"Have a meal."
Shen Jintang spoke, but her tone softened considerably.
Gu Zhixing glanced at her tentatively, then began to eat obediently, slowly swallowing the last mouthful of porridge. The rice grains were already cold and felt a bit astringent in his throat.
He looked up at Shen Jintang sitting opposite him. The candlelight cast a soft orange glow on her silhouette, but it couldn't reach her unfocused eyes.
“Jintang…” he hesitated before speaking, his fingers unconsciously stroking the edge of the rough pottery bowl.
"Say what you want to say." Shen Jintang turned precisely in his direction, as if she could see his conflicted expression.
Gu Zhixing took a deep breath: "Where did you get these dishes from?"
He paused for a moment, then said, "I remember you used to... not very good at cooking."
However, he didn't leave any money behind, and it's even more impossible that Shen Jintang went out to buy it.
“I had someone go to the money exchange to get the money,” she said casually.
"A money exchange?" Gu Zhixing's heart skipped a beat. "What money exchange?"
“The Shangguan family’s money exchange.” Shen Jintang said the name calmly, as if discussing the weather.
Gu Zhixing's fingers tightened suddenly, and the rough pottery bowl made a soft "click" sound on the table.
The name "Shangguan Family" was like a blunt knife, stabbing deep into his chest.
He lowered his eyes, staring at the few grains of rice remaining at the bottom of the bowl, and suddenly felt a tightness in his throat.
"Oh." In the end, he only uttered this one word, his voice so dry it didn't sound like his own.
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