Zhao Xiyin, who was standing to the side, was furious upon hearing this.
Zhou Qishen sat there with a faint smile and an expressionless face. He was polite but lacked any warmth.
After making a racket for half an hour, my cousin finally quieted down.
Zhou Qishen acted as if nothing had happened, dusted off his slightly wrinkled clothes, stood up and said, "You must be tired today. We can't finish talking about this in a short time. Rest first. I've asked my secretary to book a hotel. Tomorrow someone will take you to the Forbidden City and the Great Wall."
People left, the door closed, and the house became as quiet as an ancient tomb.
Zhou Qishen stood by the door, his hands supporting him on the door panel, his head slightly bowed, his shoulders rising and falling with his breath.
He didn't move, breathing heavily.
For a full half minute, Zhou Qishen walked into the bedroom without saying a word, then lay down, grabbed a pillow, and covered the back of his head. He fell asleep without even taking off his shoes.
Zhao Xiyin stood in the living room, peering through the half-open door of the bedroom, and her heart skipped a beat.
Five minutes later, she tiptoed into the bedroom, found the remote, and drew the curtains shut, leaving only a very dim light on for him. She returned to the living room, where his phone, wallet, and car keys were on the table. Zhao Xiyin tidied them up, then noticed the two nearly empty boxes of sleeping pills beside them. Her fingers twitched, but she still put them in the drawer. As she closed it, she reached down again and hid the two boxes at the very bottom, pressing them down firmly before feeling at ease.
Zhao Xiyin sat back on the sofa, checking the time every now and then, and glancing back at the bedroom every now and then.
He must be fast asleep.
Zhou Qishen's phone kept receiving messages, the screen lighting up repeatedly. Zhao Xiyin glanced at it and saw the top five apps on his screen—
Missing Persons Website
China Public Welfare Family Search
Dear Homecoming
Find you
Zhao Xiyin's heart skipped a beat, and her hands trembled. Just as the sadness began to well up inside her, a muffled, suppressed thud suddenly came from the bedroom—
Zhao Xiyin rushed inside. Zhou Qishen was sitting up, clutching his hair, his face contorted in pain. He was soaked in sweat, his clothes clinging to his chest and back. Zhao Xiyin was startled. "Did you have another nightmare?"
Zhou Qishen was in a daze, his nightmares like red-hot iron chains binding his hands and feet, suppressing his mind. He fell into an abyss, unable to see a glimmer of light in his dreams.
Zhao Xiyin's voice was filled with unconcealed concern and a gentle tenderness that she had forgotten to suppress.
Zhou Qishen's eyes were wet, and he stared at her blankly, momentarily forgetting whether he was dreaming or in reality. His heart pounded, and he instinctively hugged her tightly.
Zhao Xiyin was held tightly by him, like an impenetrable wall.
Zhou Qishen buried his head in her neck; his face was burning hot, his nose was burning hot, and his lips were burning hot.
A few seconds later, Zhao Xiyin felt a drop of coolness.
Zhou Qishen couldn't distinguish between reality and fantasy, and murmured in a hoarse voice, "...Wife."
Zhao Xiyin froze, her hands, which had been struggling and pushing him away, softened into gentle caresses. Her palms rested on his neck, kneading it lightly—a gesture of soothing, of tenderness, of a descent into a state of utter infatuation.
Chapter 18 What Kind of Man Is He? (1)
What kind of man is he? (1)
Zhao Xiyin had a light fruity scent, like peaches and cucumbers. Zhou Qi was deeply immersed in it, like a fish out of the desert suddenly entering a river or lake, which sustained him.
After a few minutes, Zhao Xiyin patted his back, as if coaxing a child, "Alright, alright, dreams are all fake."
Zhou Qishen's brows furrowed deeply, his breathing calmed, and the headache that had felt like being hit by a hammer subsided considerably. He released his grip, his hair disheveled, and looking at the red marks on Zhao Xiyin's arm, he apologized, "I'm sorry."
Zhao Xiyin stood up, and the distance between the two widened again. This was the moment she woke up from the dream, and everyone returned to their places.
Zhou Qishen sat on the bed with his knees bent, buried his head in his arms and shook it vigorously. When he looked up again, his face had regained its usual restraint and calmness.
He had just thrown back the covers and was about to get out of bed when Zhao Xiyin suddenly spoke up: "Don't rush to stand up."
She said, "Sit down and take a break. Standing up too quickly can make you dizzy."
Zhou Qishen listened, and his deep eyes softened a bit. A few minutes later, he came out of the living room, and Zhao Xiyin brought out a glass of milk from the kitchen. "There was nothing in the refrigerator, so I found this. It's been heated up. You can have some. I threw away the rest because it expires tomorrow."
Zhou Qishen took it and drank it in one gulp.
Zhao Xiyin took out another package from her bag and placed it on the table. "If you feel unwell, take one."
It was a bag of fruit candies that Zhao Wenchun had slipped into her bag that morning. Zhao Xiyin had been eating very little while dieting lately, and her father was worried about her low blood sugar. Zhou Qishen peeled one open and ate it. With his cheeks slightly puffed out, he looked at her and said, "Don't listen to Teacher Dai. Don't diet anymore. If you lose another ten pounds, you'll be a hundred times uglier than you are now, believe it or not?"
Zhao Xiyin glared at her angrily, "I'm beautiful at all times."
Zhou Qi smiled faintly, "That's true."
After a few seconds of eye contact, Zhao Xiyin carefully looked away and said in a low voice, "She's always been very demanding."
"Nutritionally fault-finding, being overly picky," Zhou Qishen said unhappily.
Zhao Xiyin didn't dare to take the subject, and only said, "I'll listen to her."
Zhou Qishen sighed helplessly, chewed the candy, and swallowed it. After a moment of silence, he said, "I'll handle things back home. I won't let them misunderstand again."
Zhao Xiyin nodded. "The requests my cousin makes are really ridiculous. You should sometimes advise Uncle Zhou to keep track of what he can and cannot agree to. He can't possibly handle all these random requests.
Zhou Qi scoffed coldly, "Let's all just live our lives in a fucking mess."
The father and son had an irreconcilable relationship. Even though Zhou Qishen was now very successful, the damage from his family of origin was enough to be a lifelong trauma. Once, Zhou Qishen came home drunk and acted like a child. Zhao Xiyin tried to comfort him, take care of him, and run him a hot bath. Standing under the shower, Zhou Qishen hugged her without a care in the world, first rambling on and on, then talking nonsense. Finally, he calmed down, his gaze burning intensely as he looked at Zhao Xiyin and inexplicably said, "Wife, I'm not good enough for you."
Zhao Xiyin burst out laughing when she heard this, and raised an eyebrow at him, "Is that so? How about we get a divorce?"