"Oh, I saw you were worried last night, so I was worried." Chen Qingxuan said this with a guilty conscience. He looked at Meiya stealthily. Seeing that she looked normal, he breathed a sigh of relief. He asked cautiously, "What happened? Why are your eyes so swollen?"
When Chen Qingxuan asked this, Mei Ya's face darkened again. She turned around and closed the door. At the same time, she said in a deep voice to the shabby wooden door in front of her: "Mr. Chen, I don't want to talk about it."
Chen Qingxuan was startled, then hurriedly said: "Yes, yes, yes. I was too nosy. I shouldn't ask about a girl's privacy..."
"Mr. Chen, I don't mean to blame you," Mei Ya interrupted Chen Qingxuan's topic. She paused, exhaled softly, and then said, "It's just that there are some things. I can't speak."
Yes, how could she say it?
Where should I start?
Mei Ya really couldn't speak. She didn't want to speak. This was a matter between her and Zhong Mingwei, even though things were not going as she wished. But she didn't want outsiders to know, whether it was good or bad, it was a matter between her and Zhong Mingwei.
Chen Qingxuan's face was a little stiff, but he pursed his lips and forced out a not-too-ugly smile: "That's fine, if you don't want to say it, then don't say it. You can say it when you want to."
"Mr. Chen," Meiya looked at Chen Qingxuan somewhat embarrassedly, "Can you... help me keep it a secret from Grandma Chen?"
Meiya didn't want to make Grandma Chen worry about her. The old lady had just recovered, and she was busy with the spring ploughing at home, working from dawn to dusk all day long. Meiya really didn't want to cause more trouble for the old lady.
"Okay, don't worry." Chen Qingxuan nodded. Even if Meiya didn't say it, he would never tell Grandma Chen about it. Chen Qingxuan had been deliberately hiding the relationship between Meiya and Zhong Mingwei from Grandma Chen. He couldn't explain why. Was it because he didn't want Grandma Chen to be sad after knowing it, or... was he subconsciously leaving a way out for himself?
What if, what if?
What if, what if?
"Thank you, Mr. Chen," Meiya was grateful in her heart. She turned around and walked towards the courtyard. Then she suddenly stopped and looked back at Chen Qingxuan. "Mr. Chen, how about some pancakes and red bean porridge today?"
"Red bean porridge?" Chen Qingxuan was stunned, and a small bowl of steaming red bean porridge immediately appeared in front of his eyes, but that bowl of porridge was not prepared for him. That day, he watched Zhong Mingwei drink up that small bowl of red bean porridge in just a few gulps. He felt indescribably blocked in his heart and indescribably greedy. After that day, he also drank red bean porridge several times, but he always felt that the red bean porridge made by Grandma Chen must not be as sweet as that bowl, although he had never drunk the red bean porridge cooked by Mei Ya.
"Yes, red bean porridge," Mei Ya rolled up her sleeves and said casually, "Grandma Chen said yesterday that there were too many red beans at home and if we didn't finish them, they would attract bugs."
"Okay then, let's eat red bean porridge," Chen Qingxuan said hurriedly, and added in a low voice, "Add more rock sugar."
"Huh?" Mei Ya's eyes widened in shock, and she looked at Chen Qingxuan as if he were a monster. "Mr. Chen, you've always hated sugar, haven't you? Why are you asking me to add more sugar now?"
"I just suddenly want to eat," Chen Qingxuan felt his face suddenly getting hot. This was the first time in his life that a 23-year-old man felt so embarrassed. He lowered his eyes to avoid Mei Ya's gaze, pretending to be relaxed and said, "I'll go back to my room to change clothes, and then come back to help you light the fire."
"No need, no need! I can do it myself." Mei Ya waved her hands and went into the kitchen to busy herself.
Chen Qingxuan watched Mei Ya go into the kitchen, then he held onto the wall and moved step by step towards the room. After sleeping curled up like this all night last night, his legs almost didn't belong to him. If he hadn't been holding onto the wall, he would have fallen down early in the morning. He had recovered a lot at this time, but still had difficulty walking. Chen Qingxuan limped into the bedroom, listening to the sounds of pots and pans outside, feeling indescribably happy. He limped out of the box to find a set of bamboo green silk gown that he usually didn't want to wear. This gown was made for him by Grandma Chen for two cents when he passed the imperial examination to become a scholar, but he had always been frugal and had never been willing to wear it, so he had kept it well in the box. But today, he suddenly remembered this gown and put it on quickly. While buttoning it in front of the bronze mirror, he looked away with some self-loathing.
Is this considered as showing kindness to someone who understands him?
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