Chapter 5 Tenderness "If you really want to get married, you should consider me..."
Two worlds within one room.
While Meng Cenjun was racking her brains over a decision, Lan Jia had already fallen into a deep sleep.
She started dreaming again, but these were no longer the nightmares she had before. However, the colors were still dark and damp, like an old painting that had been soaked by summer rain and covered in mold.
It was raining heavily on the day of my parents' funeral. Everything was so white that I couldn't see anything. I didn't cry, though; I guess I had already cried all my tears out. I was just numb.
Everyone said she was incredibly lucky to have survived such a severe car accident. The driver and her father in the front seat almost died on the spot, while her seriously injured mother curled up like a hedgehog, tightly protecting her in her arms. She was squeezed into a narrow crevice, desperately smelling the strong odor of burning and blood, her life being probed, touched, and strangled by the tentacles of death.
When she regained consciousness, she already knew what she had lost, but an even greater danger was rapidly brewing. The news of the accident was like a bomb dropped, the company's stock price plummeted overnight, and various malicious forces wanted to take advantage of the chaos. The ivory tower she had sat comfortably in since birth was suddenly riddled with holes, and she was completely powerless to stop it.
Meng Cenjun rushed back from abroad overnight to help Grandma Yi stabilize the situation and handle the funeral arrangements. She waited for him for a long time at the hospital, and when he finally arrived, the two of them remained silent, as if something stood between them.
After a long pause, she finally spoke in a daze: "I have no home anymore."
The incessant rain at the funeral relentlessly invaded every dream she had afterward. She dreamt of the damp, green plane trees lining the road home, the road stretching endlessly. Meng Cenjun carried her, a young girl, hesitating as they walked. It was so cold, and she clung to his neck, tears streaming down her face. "Brother, will we have nothing left in the future?"
He paused, then promised her, "I will never let you lose everything."
She shed large tears and asked, "Can't two people also build a family?"
He said yes.
"How about we start a new family? Just you and me."
She walked steadily for a while before she heard his voice.
He agreed.
Ten years have passed in this way.
She dreamt again of arguing with Meng Cenjun, with cups, plates, and bowls smashed all over the house. She picked up her luggage to leave, but then she heard Meng Cenjun's cold and resentful voice behind her: "Yi Lanjia, who was it that said we would build a family together? Now that you've grown up, you want to abandon me, don't you?"
She didn't turn back, still wanting to leave, but her legs felt like they were chained, and she couldn't cross the door that was so close. She was so afraid that she kept crying.
The scene shifts, and she wipes the condensation from the bathroom mirror, discovering that her eyes are sunken, her face is deathly pale, and she's practically a skeleton. Meng Cenjun appears behind her, gripping her bare shoulders, his dangerous tone like a lurking viper: "Lan Jia, this is the price of disobedience."
She raised her arms in a daze, only to find that both wrists were bound by cold, hard shackles. Terrified, her vision went black, and she fell backward onto the bed. She twitched a couple of times before suddenly waking up.
The room was quiet, and the rain outside hadn't stopped; the sky was a deep, grayish-brown.
Lan Jia sat up with lingering fear, feeling sticky all over and breaking out in a cold sweat.
It took her a long time to regain her senses. Thinking about the chaos of the previous night, she rubbed her forehead in frustration. All that coaxing and sweet talk, like she was under a spell—it was so unlike her.
The nightmare faded, but its effects lingered; she began to fear seeing Meng Cenjun. But she guessed he was already gone.
Lan Jia felt a little relieved, opened the door and went out. The guest room was dimly lit. She subconsciously reached for the light switch, and the moment the light illuminated the room, she widened her eyes and snapped the light off.
She hoped she was mistaken, but Meng Cenjun's presence was hard to ignore.
After standing frozen in place for a while, making sure he wasn't awake, I breathed a sigh of relief.
Looking up at the person on the sofa, still seated, but lacking his usual solemnity, his body was slightly tilted, one hand resting on the armrest, propping up his head. The single sofa wasn't wide, but Meng Cenjun felt even more cramped inside. His long legs were deliberately tucked in, yet still jutted out awkwardly, like some enormous animal squeezing into an incompatible nest, diminishing even his usual dignified and composed demeanor.
Lan Jia thought to herself, "How can someone sleep soundly in such an uncomfortable position?"
He hadn't woken up after the commotion, and looked extremely exhausted.
She tiptoed closer, almost unconsciously, and was immediately enveloped by a subtly tense atmosphere. This man possessed such intimidating power even in his sleep; no wonder she was afraid of him. Sometimes he couldn't help but remind her of Pavlov's dog—his eyes, his tone of voice, the strangeness in his expression—all of which could send shivers down her spine reflexively.
Thinking of this, she couldn't help but feel a rebellious streak, and boldly looked him up and down, as if to provoke him: I want to see what you're so great about.
She leaned forward slightly, but with a hint of hesitation, as if observing an ancient bronze cauldron through museum glass. He had a slight frown, his thick, long eyelashes draped beneath his eyes, and his skin had a melancholic, pale white hue, making the light blue stubble on his chin particularly noticeable.
It's strange. On ordinary days, he always seems like a tyrannical and autocratic ruler, but when he's quiet, he's like a depressed patient.
Perhaps yesterday's appeasement policy had some effect; Lan Jia felt depressed and uneasy.
The air conditioning in the room was too cold, and her hands and feet were also cold. Thinking of someone, she quietly went to the bedroom to get a blanket, and then quietly returned.
Like a thief, she unfolded a light camel-colored cashmere blanket and was about to cover him with it when her wrist was suddenly grabbed. The next second, she met Meng Cenjun's suddenly opened eyes.
Too close.
It's too late.
Her foot slipped, and the force of her grip pulled her forward. Even as she did so, she tensed up, thinking that she couldn't fall on him. So she hurriedly bent her leg to brace herself against the sofa, and her good left arm pressed against his chest, creating a barrier between them.
It's still too close.
Strands of her hair fell down her shoulders and brushed against his cheek.
He blinked, a little itchy, the drowsy moisture from just waking up disappearing, and calmly looked her over.
"Brother, when did you wake up?"
"When you sneak over here."
"I saw you sleeping like this and I was afraid you'd get cold," Lan Jia explained, still feeling dizzy.
"Yes, I'm not cold." His tone was surprisingly gentle.
Did I hurt you just now?
Lan Jia shook her head, her smile somewhat awkward, "Brother, I'd better get up first..."
She smiled, but inside she felt both embarrassed and nervous, her arm feeling like it was being branded with a hot iron. She used some strength to prop herself up, but her knees slipped on the velvet sofa, and she bumped her head against his collarbone with a dull thud.
In a daze, both of them sensed a dangerous anomaly.
Lan Jia felt like a rat covered in oil, climbing on the master's cupboard, never reaching the end, and instead making a ridiculous fool of herself.
Meng Cenjun also seemed less composed than before, and simply said, "Don't move for now."
He reached out and supported her waist, helping her to her feet.
Seeing her head bowed and silent, he asked, "Did you hurt yourself?"
Lan Jia denied it.
He withdrew his hand, which he had wanted to examine her forehead, but it felt as if it were stuck in tree sap, dried out, and taut. He secretly stretched his palm several times.
"I'll go back to my room first."
She watched his figure disappear before numbly tugging at her earlobes, which were burning hot.
After a while, a strange sense of shame slowly welled up inside me.
Overnight, Meng Cenjun seemed to have changed a lot; she was more gentle and patient. But she didn't believe that someone she had known for many years would suddenly change their personality; she always felt that there was a hidden danger beneath the glamorous sugar coating.
Is it true or false? She needs to probe further.
With her hand injured, Lan Jia struggled to take a shower, barely managing to wash away the sticky feeling on her body. Her hair was also drenched in sweat, but she couldn't do anything about it, so she simply tied it back. At times like these, she couldn't help but miss the days when she was able-bodied.
She glanced at the clock; it was only seven o'clock. Her mind was preoccupied with the lost blue scarf, wondering if Qiao Zimu was awake yet. His sleep schedule was just as irregular as hers; he was used to sleeping in until noon.
I eventually sent a message to inquire, and the other party replied very quickly, asking me to come to their room to discuss it in detail.
Thinking about how he had been the catalyst for her argument with Meng Cenjun yesterday, and how he was probably caught in the middle, Lan Jia felt a little guilty towards him. When the door opened, Lan Jia smiled warmly and said, "Good morning."
Qiao Zimu smiled and stepped aside to let her in.
"I guessed you hadn't had breakfast yet, so I ordered a double portion, it'll be served in a bit."
Lan Jia was observant and sensed that he was in a bad mood, so she spoke even softer.
"Is it bad news from the cruise ship?"
"We've already contacted them, and we're still searching."
His face was somewhat serious. "Lan Jia, what would you think if you really lost it?"
"I won't be able to sleep well for a long time to come."
"What about yesterday? Was it difficult too?"
She wanted to say that she felt more at ease with Meng Cenjun by her side, but she couldn't have him with her forever. Besides, admitting how good he was to Qiao Zimu in front of her made her feel a little ashamed. So Lan Jia said with a slightly worried look, "Yeah, I keep having strange dreams."
Qiao Zimu took in her expression and tugged at the corner of his mouth: "How are you and your brother doing now? Seeing you two arguing so fiercely, I can't do anything to help you."
"This is nothing," Lan Jia waved her hand. "We've always been like this, from childhood to adulthood. There have been times when we argued so fiercely that it felt like the world was ending, but in the end, we always made peace."
"Have you sought peace again?" he asked calmly.
Lan Jia felt embarrassed when she thought about her rebellious persona in front of him, and thought it was normal for him to be disappointed in her.
"I only agreed because he seemed to be in a good mood," she said awkwardly.
Qiao Zimu hummed in response, his expression unreadable.
Just then, a waiter came to deliver breakfast, and the knocking on the door interrupted their conversation.
The food was laid out on the coffee table, and Lan Jia sat down opposite him.
A glass of skim milk, an Eggs Benedict, and a fruit salad are in front of me.
She absentmindedly picked up her fork and poked at the food, while Qiao Zimu had already cut the food on her plate into small pieces and handed it to her. This familiar gesture, however, felt strangely distant to her at that moment.
After eating a few pieces, I had no appetite, so I put them down. Then I heard him ask hesitantly, "What are you going to do in the future?"
"What?"
“You can’t live under your brother’s control forever, unable to go anywhere.”
Seeing him bring up Meng Cenjun again, she felt inexplicably strange. These two always seemed to be intentionally or unintentionally mentioning each other in front of her, ostensibly for her sake, but actually harboring a deep-seated hostility.
"So what do you think?"
Qiao Zimu pursed his lips, as if after deep thought, before asking, "Lan Jia, have you ever considered marriage?"
She opened her eyes wide in surprise, "This is the idea you came up with for me?"
"Listen to me first." His expression was so serious it wasn't a joke. "For so many years, you've practically been raised by your brother. He's too responsible for you, and will always treat you like a child. If you get into trouble, he'll scold you; if you run away, he'll restrain you; even if you threaten to run away from home, he'll just think it's a child's momentary tantrum. Lan Jia, you're already twenty years old. You can't treat yourself like a child who never grows up. Only when you realize this will your brother understand that he has no reason to interfere in everything in your life."
"Besides, Lan Jia, have you ever asked your brother what he really wants? You've been in the Yi family for twenty years. You want freedom, but does he not want freedom too?"
These words pierced Lan Jia's heart, turning her face pale. In truth, she had pondered this more than once: was it that he wouldn't give her freedom, or had she never truly let him go?
Even if it really was her, it was as if she had touched upon some taboo, dark place, and she dared not admit that she was such a despicable person.
"So what should I do now?"
Seeing that she was wavering slightly, Qiao Zimu immediately offered his answer: "If you get married in the future, have your own little family, and have someone you can trust and rely on, perhaps your brother will be able to let go with a clear conscience."
"Then, in your opinion, what kind of person should I marry?"
"Something that suits you, understands you, and supports you."
She looked at him silently.
Qiao Zimu gripped the cutlery tightly, lowered his eyes, and called to her, "Lan Jia."
“In families like ours, we are destined not to have the freedom to choose our own marriage. When elders make the decisions, it is always for their own benefit, forcibly binding two people who have no feelings for each other. I think it is better to choose someone I know well and stand on the same side than to waste my life with a stranger.”
“Lan Jia, we’ve known each other for over a decade and have been there for each other through almost every important milestone in our lives. Our families are of similar backgrounds, our parents were on good terms, and my family has unanimously approved of and expected me to date you, so I simply cannot imagine any reason why we wouldn’t be a good match.”
"A husband should be the best friend."
"I hope you... will consider me."
After saying these words, my anxiety lessened considerably, and I gained the courage to look her in the eye and repeat myself with even greater determination and sincerity.
"Lan Jia, if you really want to get married, please consider me."
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