Did My Ex-Wife Agree to Remarry Me Today? - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Rest

Wearing a mask and dressed in crisp, practical work clothes topped with a baseball cap, Li Zhou radiated a bone-chilling coldness today. Her outfit was for efficiency; the mask, however Chi Yun knew the reason for that all too well.

Recalling the bite at the end of last night’s kiss, Chi Yun’s lips curled into a smile.

Li Zhou ignored the grin. She walked straight over, separated from Chi Yun by two low picket fences, and got straight to the point: “You told A-Mei to take my cup?”

Li Zhou knew because A-Mei hadn’t just snatched it; she had run inside and whispered to ask for permission first. A few pointed questions later, Li Zhou had extracted the whole truth from the girl.

Claiming the cup is hers? How is that possible? Li Zhou had marched out with the cup to settle the score.

“It’s mine,” Chi Yun said. She had anticipated A-Mei’s “betrayal,” so her expression was perfectly composed righteous, even. “That cup is mine.” She didn’t even use the word “maybe.”

“Yours?” Li Zhou looked at her as if she were a con artist trying to sell her the Brooklyn Bridge. “And what logic are you using to claim that?”

Chi Yun pulled out her phone and showed Li Zhou the evidence, scrolling through photos with suppressed excitement. “Look at the photos. Isn’t it identical?”

Li Zhou looked, her expression unmoved. “That’s a coincidence. It’s just the same model.” It wasn’t as if they only manufactured one of that specific cup in the world.

“My cup has a scratch on the bottom,” Chi Yun countered. “Let me see the base and I’ll know for sure.”

The cup was in Li Zhou’s hand, her palm covering the lower half. Li Zhou didn’t budge. Instead, she gripped it tighter, her gaze sweeping coolly over Chi Yun’s face. “Describe the exact location of the scratch.”

Chi Yun paused, recalling her mother’s description. “About two or three centimeters from the bottom. A vertical scratch on the body of the cup.”

“Then it isn’t yours. There is no such mark on this cup.”

Li Zhou revealed the base. There was a scratch, but it was on the very bottom, and it was a long one.

Seeing it, Chi Yun didn’t miss a beat. “Then my mother remembered it wrong.”

Li Zhou didn’t bother arguing; she simply took the cup back.

“A—”

“Sister Zhou, the crates are all loaded. 98 in total. Want to do a final check?” A worker interrupted, calling Li Zhou away for the final inventory.

Li Zhou gave Chi Yun a look that said Go find a corner and stay there, then turned and followed the worker.

Chi Yun went to her car, used her portable printer to print out a few photos, and then headed to Grandma Wang’s house. Sitting in the chair where she’d just had her IV, she messaged Sheng Minghui: Mom, are you sure? Is it possible the scratch is on the bottom?

Sheng Minghui replied instantly: Do you need me to be sure?

Chi Yun grinned: I do.

Sheng Minghui was a pro: I remembered wrong. The scratch is on the bottom. It’s been too long; my memory tripped. I just thought about it again it’s definitely on the bottom. 100% confirmed.

Chi Yun’s eyes crinkled into crescents. She deleted the two messages about “needing her to be wrong” and waited for Li Zhou to finish so she could “re-negotiate.”

“Back again?” Wang Fang walked out of A-Mei’s room. Seeing Chi Yun sitting there, she asked, “Grandma, it’s so late. Why aren’t you resting?”

“A-Mei is going to the city with Xiao Zhou tomorrow for the setup. I was packing her bags. I missed my usual bedtime, so I’m not sleepy anymore.” Wang Fang sat down. “But you your IV is done, and Xiao Zhou is too busy for you. Why haven’t you left?”

The assembly was a massive job, especially given the scale of Li Zhou’s exhibits. If it weren’t for a new drug launch at the company this week, Chi Yun would have volunteered to help.

As for why she was still here, Chi Yun smiled. “I’m staying here tonight. Right next door to you.”

“Let me show you something.” Wang Fang stood up, went inside, and brought out an open tablet. She pointed to a picture on a specific page. “Is this you?”

Chi Yun looked. The headline read: STREET KISS. Below it was a photo of a person in all-black clothing. Chi Yun’s brow furrowed. “How could that be me?”

She read further: “Jianghua pharmaceutical mogul and a woman surnamed Feng caught kissing on the street…”

The text clearly implied her, and two lines down, they had actually printed her name. Chi Yun’s jaw dropped.

“Is that you in the photo?” Wang Fang asked slowly.

Chi Yun zoomed in. “The face shape isn’t even the same. And when have you ever seen me dress like that? All black? I only wear white.” The person in the photo was a blurry back-view at best. Some tabloid was trying to pin this on her. Is a competitor behind this? The author was listed as “Butterfly.”

“At first I thought it looked like you,” Wang Fang squinted at the screen. “But after spending time with you, I didn’t think it was. I wanted to ask.”

Chi Yun stood up and did a full turn. “The vibe is completely different.” She added, “Grandma, if you want to read my gossip, wait until the headline says ‘Jianghua mogul and Li-surnamed documentary director kissing on the street.’ Then it might actually be true.”

Wang Fang laughed. “Then why do you always wear white?”

Chi Yun sat back down. “White is warm.”

Wang Fang noticed something. “Xiao Zhou always wears white too. Are you copying her?”

“Not copying,” Chi Yun paused. “But it is because of her. Because pear blossoms are beautiful…”

Before she could finish, A-Mei’s voice boomed from the yard. “Grandma! Close the door and go to sleep! Sister Zhou said if I’m not up by five, she’s leaving without me!”

A-Mei saw Chi Yun, chirped a quick “Hi Biscuit’s Mom!” and dashed to wash up.

“Are they finished over there?” Chi Yun asked.

“Finished. Everyone’s gone,” A-Mei said through a mouthful of toothpaste.

Chi Yun stood up, her smile brilliant. “Then it’s time for me to go. Goodnight Grandma, goodnight A-Mei.”

“If Xiao Zhou won’t take you in, come knock on our door again. I’ll lend you these two chairs in the living room,” Wang Fang teased.

“Don’t worry,” Chi Yun waved back. “If she won’t have me, I’ll sleep on the street.”

Chi Yun walked to Li Zhou’s house. The white picket gate was open.

Her mind made a logical jump: If it’s open, it’s for me. It was a silent night, the fishermen were all asleep, and she was the only one “homeless.” It had to be an invitation.

She walked in. Li Zhou was sweeping.

“Can I…”

“No.” Li Zhou shut her down before she could start.

Chi Yun wouldn’t leave. Wherever Li Zhou swept, Chi Yun followed, whispering in her ear, “Grandma Wang’s house is locked. I have nowhere to go.”

“Don’t you own a house?”

Chi Yun held up her bruised hand. “I took five needles today. My hand is ruined; I can’t drive.”

Li Zhou glanced at the hand, her sweeping slowing down. “What do you want?” Exhaustion was etched into her eyes.

Chi Yun took the broom from her. “I’ll help you sweep.”

“Your hand is too ruined to drive, but you can sweep?” Li Zhou asked. Could the excuse be any flimsier?

Chi Yun finished a circle and looked up. “Can I trade my labor for a place to sleep?”

“No.”

“I’ll mop the floors too.”

Li Zhou looked at the bucket in the corner. “You don’t need to mop.”

“I have waterproof bandages,” Chi Yun said, pulling them out and sticking one over the needle marks. “I won’t get it wet. I’ll be careful.”

“I can mop myself,” Li Zhou said.

“You’ve been spinning like a top all day, and you have to do it again tomorrow. You need to rest.” Chi Yun started wetting the mop.

Li Zhou didn’t speak. She leaned against the table, her eyes following Chi Yun’s shadow. Once the floor was mopped, the mop cleaned, and the windows opened for ventilation, Chi Yun returned with a smile. “Anything else? You can make me do anything.”

Li Zhou lowered her arms and turned her head mechanically. “No. Fine. You can borrow the bed upstairs for the night. Get out at daybreak.”

Chi Yun’s eyes lit up. “I’m going up then.”

“Go ahead,” Li Zhou said, her voice flat.

Chi Yun took two steps, then stopped. “Aren’t you coming up?”

“I have things to sort. I’m pulling an all-nighter.” Li Zhou sat down and opened her laptop.

Chi Yun frowned. It wasn’t the lack of a shared bed that bothered her; it was that Li Zhou was clearly at her limit, yet refused to stop.

“Disappear before I change my mind,” Li Zhou snapped.

Chi Yun went upstairs. Looking at the pajamas on the bed and the wrinkles in the sheets, it was clear nothing had been touched since she left. Li Zhou hadn’t rested once.

Downstairs, Li Zhou was pressing her fingers to her temples. She was so tired she’d forgotten to drink water. She planned to work until she couldn’t, then just close her eyes for a moment.

Half an hour later, the brain fog became too thick to push through. She pushed her chair back and stood up, leaning against the edge of the desk to rest with her eyes closed. As a Tree, standing was sometimes more comfortable than sitting.

The lights were off; only the dim glow of the computer screen remained. Someone came down the stairs and stopped beside her.

Li Zhou opened one eye. “Who gave you permission to wear my pajamas?”

Chi Yun didn’t even blush. “They were on the bed. Weren’t they for me?”

Li Zhou was too tired to argue.

Chi Yun stepped directly in front of her. Her voice was gentle and formal. “To thank you for the bed and the pajamas, I can let you lean on me.”

“You need a nap. You’ll be more efficient after some sleep.”

Li Zhou blinked slowly. “Why would I lean on you to sleep?”

“Do you know ‘Standing Stake’?” Chi Yun asked softly. “My grandmother taught me. I’m very steady. I can stand as straight as a tree.”

Li Zhou looked into Chi Yun’s eyes. Her body instinctively moved away from the desk.

“Tell me a time. I’ll wake you up,” Chi Yun promised.

“Thirty minutes then,” Li Zhou whispered.

Chi Yun stepped forward and pulled Li Zhou into an embrace, letting her shift her weight. Li Zhou’s chin rested on Chi Yun’s shoulder. She wanted to resist, but sleep won. Her eyes fluttered shut.

Chi Yun kept one arm around Li Zhou’s back and used the other to support her head. She stood like a soldier on guard for two hours.

When Li Zhou finally woke up and saw the light outside, she knew it had been much longer than thirty minutes. Dazed and sleep-deprived, she tried to pull away to scold Chi Yun for not waking her.

Before she could move an inch, Chi Yun’s hand pressed her head back down. “You’re dreaming,” Chi Yun whispered in her ear. “It’s not real. Close your eyes and go back to sleep.”

Leaning on Chi Yun’s shoulder, Li Zhou’s lips curved into a silent smile. A dream? She knew better.

She shifted her position and wrapped her arms around Chi Yun’s waist.

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