Something's different in Chapter 41.
In the end, Huo Yanli left the club ahead of schedule.
Although the stomach pain had subsided, the weakness and a dull ache lingered. Ji Yun and the others wanted to see him off, but he refused. He needed to be alone.
When the driver brought the car to the entrance of the club, Huo Yanli changed his mind.
“To the Ministry of Foreign Affairs dormitory,” he said.
The driver paused for a moment, glanced at him in the rearview mirror, but didn't ask any questions and turned around.
The traffic in the capital city was sparse at night, and the streetlights on both sides of the street rushed past. Huo Yanli leaned back in the back seat, closed his eyes, but his mind kept replaying the scenes from tonight.
Song Zhiyi walked calmly into the private room.
She responded to Su Nian's sarcasm with composure in French.
The equal and natural tone she used when she called Counselor Pierre.
The focused look in her eyes as she knelt in front of him to administer acupuncture.
And the warmth of her fingers, the faint glow of the silver needles, the precise names of those acupuncture points…
It all felt so unreal, like a mystery that had suddenly intruded into his peaceful life.
When the car stopped downstairs at the dormitory building, Huo Yanli checked his watch: 10:40. Not too late, but not early either.
Just as he was about to tell the driver to leave, he saw a figure walk out of the building entrance.
It is Song Zhiyi.
She changed her clothes—a simple white T-shirt and gray sweatpants, slippers on her feet, and carrying a trash bag. She was probably going downstairs to throw out the trash.
Under the dim streetlights, her figure appeared somewhat slender. Her long hair was loose, not tied in a ponytail, and swayed gently in the night breeze. Her plain face appeared much softer under the light, lacking the coldness she had during the day.
She didn't see his car, walked straight to the trash can, threw the trash bag in, and then turned to go back.
Huo Yanli opened the car door.
"Song Zhiyi".
The sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet night.
Song Zhiyi stopped in her tracks and turned around. When she saw it was him, she was clearly taken aback for a moment, and then walked over.
"Why are you here?" she asked, her tone slightly questioning, but without any wariness or aversion.
"Just passing by," Huo Yanli said. The excuse was lame, but he couldn't think of a better one for the moment.
Song Zhiyi nodded and didn't ask any further questions. She stood by the car, about a meter away from him, neither too close nor too far.
The night breeze was a bit chilly, and she was only wearing a thin T-shirt, so she subconsciously hugged her arms.
Huo Yanli took off his suit jacket and handed it to her: "Put this on."
Song Zhiyi glanced at the expensive custom-made suit and shook her head: "No need. I'll be up in a minute."
Huo Yanli's hand froze in mid-air before he withdrew it. He suddenly realized that the polite yet distant feeling between them was something he had created himself.
More than two years of neglect, a five-year agreement, and a cold indifference that draws a line.
Now he wanted to get closer, but found that the wall had been built too high.
The two stood in silence. The dormitory building was quiet, with only the occasional sound of a car in the distance.
Huo Yanli finally spoke, his voice low in the night: "Thank you for today..."
He was talking about acupuncture.
Song Zhiyi shook her head: "You're welcome. It's my pleasure."
Again, it's "it's what I should do." It's as if everything she does for him is only out of responsibility or obligation, and not out of any other feelings.
Huo Yanli suddenly felt irritated. He wanted to ask: Why is it "should"? Didn't we agree not to bother each other? Why are you still helping me?
But he didn't ask. Because he knew the answer—that's just the kind of person she is. She'd lend a helping hand even to a stranger. Besides, he was her legal husband.
“Your stomach,” Song Zhiyi suddenly said, “needs systematic treatment. Painkillers alone won’t do.”
Huo Yanli looked at her.
“My mother left behind some remedies for stomach ailments, all of which are mild dietary therapies,” Song Zhiyi said calmly. “If you need them, I can write them down for you.”
She said "if you need it," not "I'll give it to you." She gave him complete control over the choice.
Huo Yanli was silent for a few seconds, then nodded: "Okay. Thank you."
"I'll send it to your email tomorrow," Song Zhiyi said, then checked the time. "It's getting late, you should go home and rest. Staying up late is the worst thing for someone with stomach problems."
She always does this, speaking the most caring words in the most understated tone.
Huo Yanli couldn't tell whether it was genuine concern or just a doctor's instinct.
“I’ll take you up,” he said.
"No need," Song Zhiyi refused again. "It's just a few steps. You should go back."
She turned to leave, then stopped and looked back at him.
In the darkness of night, her eyes shone brightly, as if they were filled with moonlight.
“Huo Yanli,” she called him by his name for the first time, instead of “Mr. Huo,” “drink less alcohol. Your body is your own responsibility.”
After saying that, she turned and walked into the building.
The figure quickly disappeared into the dimly lit stairwell.
Huo Yanli stood there, looking in the direction she disappeared, without moving for a long time.
A night breeze blew by, carrying the chill of early spring. He suddenly remembered the way she turned and left after signing the papers at the Civil Affairs Bureau more than two years ago.
Just like now, decisive and clean-cut, without any lingering attachments.
But something has changed.
Back then, he only showed her indifference and aloofness; now…
What is it now?
Huo Yanli didn't know.
All he knew was that tonight, when she calmly handled everything in the private room, when he was curled up on the sofa in pain and she knelt in front of him to administer acupuncture, when she said, "You can't drink alcohol if you have a stomach problem"...
In a frozen corner of his heart, a crack seemed to have appeared.
A sliver of light shone through.
A sliver of warm, real light that he hadn't felt in a very long time.
The driver got out of the car and asked in a low voice, "Mr. Huo, are we going back?"
Huo Yanli snapped out of his daze and nodded.
He got into the car and took one last look at the old dormitory building. A light was on in a third-floor window; was that her room?
What is she doing? Looking at documents? Writing reports? Or... writing a prescription to treat his stomach ailment?
Huo Yanli leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Her face reappeared in my mind.
Calm, clear eyes that never reveal any emotion.
He suddenly wanted to know what kind of world was hidden beneath that calm face.
I want to know why she chose to become a diplomat.
I want to know what she went through during those two years she was alone abroad.
I want to know... what she's thinking.
These thoughts, like vines, quietly entwined around his heart.
By the time he realized it, he couldn't break free.
The car drove away from the dormitory area and disappeared into the night.
As Huo Yanli watched the city lights flash by outside the window, he felt for the first time that something about the city where he had lived for thirty years seemed different.
And that different center is a name.
Song Zhiyi.
His legal wife.
A woman he thought he knew, but in reality, he knew nothing about.
A woman who is quietly changing his world in ways he could never have imagined.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com