Chapter 13: This is the First Time Youāve Called Me to Eat
Jian An froze. An indescribable pain surged and churned in his heart, as if it had been pierced by a sharp sword.
He turned around without hesitation, grabbed the sharp fruit knife with both hands, and was about to stab it into his chest!
Uncle Li’s face was filled with shock. He hurried forward to hold him back, and Chen Ma also immediately pried his fingers off the back of the knife.
Even Zhou Manxiang on the floor was scared out of her wits.
Fortunately, Jian An didn’t have much strength. The tip of the knife stopped a few centimeters from his heart.
But both of his hands were still cut by the blade. Blood flowed freely, staining a large area of his clean white shirt red.
Ji Songting hadn’t expected him to actually go through with it. He stood up from the sofa and angrily grabbed the other man’s arm, his gaze falling on the shocking wound.
“Are you a dog? You’re that obedient? Or are you trying to leave everything behind to wash away your crimes? Impossible. A wicked person like you doesn’t deserve such a quick death!”
Having said that, he shoved Jian Anās hand away and turned to instruct the butler: “Take him to be bandaged. Throw that woman out, and don’t let her into the Ji family again.”
Jian An watched as his mother was dragged out the door, yet he was powerless.
No, he should be grateful. Grateful that Ji Songting hadn’t harmed Zhou Manxiang. He didn’t believe the other man could be so heartless.
But this naive thought was quickly shattered by Ji Songting: “Jian An, do you think youāre smart? Do you think I didn’t know where you were hiding Zhou Manxiang? In these three years, I had the chance to strike at any time. If my father hadn’t stopped me, you and your mother would have died ten thousand times over!”
Hearing this, Jian An opened his eyes in disbelief. But there was no focus in his gaze; all the fantasies he had about Ji Songting were breaking apart bit by bit.
He walked forward in a daze, supported by Uncle Li. His legs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead.
At lunchtime, Chen Ma came to his room once to call him. But his appetite had been getting worse lately. Other than drinking a bit of water, Jian An couldn’t swallow anything.
He only remembered what the doctor had said: take his medicine on time, and he would get better.
Uncle Li had bandaged the knife wounds on his hands well. At least they wouldn’t get in the way when he took his medicine or drank water.
Jian An had just taken the candy jar filled with pills out of the cabinet when a man’s voice suddenly rang out from behind him:
“Do I have to visit your hut three times to get you to come down for a meal?”
He was startled by the voice. His hand instinctively hid the unopened medicine bottle back in the drawer. Then, he stood up in a panic and looked toward the door.
Ji Songting was standing there with one hand in his pocket. His black eyes were cold and clear. He then walked a few steps into the bedroom. “Is there something shameful you’re afraid for people to see?”
He ignored Jian Anās sudden nervousness, only feeling annoyed by the other manās submissive attitude.
If you’re so sinister and cunning in secret, why bother acting so gentle and virtuous in front of me?
“No… it’s nothing.”
Jian An immediately blocked the drawer with his body. He tried to force a smile and said almost inaudibly:
“Songting, in all this time we’ve been married, this is the first time you’ve come to call me for a meal. Iām quite happy.”
A cold smirk played on Ji Songtingās lips. He looked mockingly at Jian Anās arm and asked, quite out of character:
“Is your hand okay?”
The sudden concern caused Jian An to freeze. He stared blankly at the manās deep eyes, his heart tightening as if he couldn’t believe his ears.
But the joy on his face still surfaced irrepressibly. He nodded sincerely and replied:
“Itās okay.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Ji Songting threw a box of band-aids onto the table. His expression returned to coldness as he said indifferently:
“Since itās okay, take off the bandages. Use the band-aids to cover the wounds, then come down to eat. Xiao Yan is giving a lecture at your school later; you have to come too.”
Hearing this, the burning light in Jian Anās eyes gradually dimmed. He lowered his eyes, his head dropping in disappointment.
It turned out the other man’s sudden concern was only for the sake of appearancesāto avoid gossip, and for the sake of his sweetheart.
His heart, which had already frozen solid in the dead of winter, thought it had finally received a touch of sunlight. Little did he know this was just the precursor to an even more biting storm.
The cold room became empty once again. The air was mixed with the faint scent of blood and medicine.
Jian An blankly took off the fresh gauze on his hands. The two long scars had not yet healed.
In truth, saying it didn’t hurt would be a lie.
Ji Songting only remembered that Shen Chuyan was giving a lecture in the afternoon, but Jian An also had a speechāalso in the afternoon.
After covering his wounds, he went downstairs.
The food on the table was already cold. The dishes were greasy and spicyāexactly the things a patient with a stomach condition should avoid.
At the other end of the long marble table, Ji Songting sat straight in his black suit.
He held a lit cigar between his slender fingers, bringing it to his mouth with effortless elegance. Then, he slowly exhaled a beautiful ring of smoke.
Perhaps because his sense of smell had become sensitive, Jian An coughed several times, as if he had exhausted all his strength. Even the corners of his eyes were slightly red from the irritation.
Seeing him so weak, a trace of irritation rose in Ji Songtingās eyes. His low, cold voice seeped out from his throat:
“Is it necessary for you to act like this? Your clumsy acting is like a bad play you wrote yourself; it makes people want to vomit. After you finish eating, hurry up and get to the door.”
“Songting, Iām not acting. Don’t go…”
Jian An regained his composure and wanted to ask him to stay. But the other man just pushed him aside impatiently and walked straight out of the dining room.
He sat despondently on the chair, looking at the cold, hard rice in his bowl. He picked up his chopsticks with trembling hands, picked up a few grains, and chewed them bitterly.
If I hadn’t coughed just now, would Ji Songting not have been angry? Would he not have left…?
For three whole years, that man had never been willing to eat at the same table as him. He wouldn’t even spare a second glance at the food Jian An cooked.
Every night he would wait. The food would grow cold and then be reheated, only to grow cold again. But he could never wait for Ji Songting, and he himself never got to eat a warm meal.
Now the other man finally had the patience to sit at the table with him, yet he had made him unhappy.
He truly was so useless; he couldn’t do anything right.
As he ate, Jian Anās lips were pressed tight. His throat ached with a lump, and his eyes were gradually blocked by mist.
But those two crystal tears remained circulating in his hollow eyes, stubbornly refusing to fall.
After forcing himself to eat, despite the nauseous feeling, Jian An didn’t even have time to take his medicine before he was called to the door by Chen Ma.
Ji Songting sat in the car, looking impatiently at his watch. He then asked the youth beside him:
“Xiao Yan, letās go. Why are you waiting for that person? Heāll only make trouble.”
Shen Chuyan toyed with his tie and acted spoiled:
“No. Brother Xiao An must come to see my lecture. Besides, he has a speech this afternoon too~”
Translator’s Note: “Visit your hut three times” (äø锧č 廬) is a reference to the Three Kingdoms period when Liu Bei visited Zhuge Liang three times to recruit him. Here, Ji Songting is using it sarcastically. My heart breaks for Jian An eating that cold, hard rice. And Ji Songting is smoking a cigar right in front of someone with a weak stomach? He really is a “bastard.”
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