Did My Wife Break Up With Me Today? - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: His arm was restrained by a powerful force.

The wind grew fiercer. Chen Kongqing tugged at his thin long-sleeved shirt; he had come down in such a rush that he’d forgotten his jacket.

His phone vibrated.

Lnk: [Home.]

Just those two words.

The youth stared at the screen, instinctively tapping his lower lip with a curled knuckle. He wondered if he should say something more, then worried that messaging again might disturb Dr. Xu’s rest. While he was agonizing over it, the phone buzzed once more.

Lnk: [And you? Is your condition any better?]

The cold wind surged in waves, relentlessly slapping against Chen Kongqing’s face. But he felt that his condition wasn’t bad. He wasn’t lying. Sometimes, being out in the wind helped clear his head.

So he typed out: [Much better.]

Much better. That’s what he told himself.

…

Ten kilometers away at Tinglan Residence, Xu Jingmo wasn’t sleeping. He stood on his balcony, a half-burned cigarette held between his fingers. His phone screen displayed the messages.

Azurite: [Much better.] Azurite: [Dr. Xu, get some rest early.] Azurite: [I won’t disturb you further.]

Much better. Ling Xiao was back. Of course he would be much better.

A wisp of grey smoke drifted from the crimson tip of the cigarette, carrying the scent of tobacco. He felt a twinge of regret; he really shouldn’t be smoking. After all, the scent of herbs on his palm was already very faint. Now, it was almost undetectable.

…

“I can’t smell it… Senior, I’m finished. I still can’t smell anything.”

Chen Kongqing was distressed. Ever since his cold—and those hours spent out in the wind—his nose seemed to have gone offline. Forget the subtle differences between herbs; even if someone cracked open a durian right next to him, he wouldn’t react. Normally, he loathed the smell of durian to the point of nausea.

Du Song, who was busy typing data into a computer, consoled him: “It’s fine. You have to let your nose rest, right? Your cold hasn’t fully cleared up yet. Master said it’s okay for you to head home and rest for a few days. Don’t worry.”

“But this report is due soon.” Chen Kongqing let out a muffled sigh. He was counting on this report to enter a school competition and win the prize money.

However, the youth didn’t stay discouraged for long. He decided to first finish the tasks that didn’t require his sense of smell. Lately, he had been spending almost all his time in the lab or at school, and he hadn’t intentionally contacted Ling Xiao. It wasn’t exactly a silent protest; he was just genuinely busy, and truthfully, he didn’t know what to say to Ling Xiao.

Burying himself in the lab was actually quite nice. His body hadn’t been acting up as much these past two days. Every night when the discomfort returned, he could suppress it with medicine.

When he finally left the lab, it was 9:00 PM. He clutched his empty stomach, feeling a bit hungry. He bought a scallion pancake from a roadside stall. He’d only taken a couple of bites when his phone vibrated with a call from “Mom.”

Chen Kongqing stared at the screen for two seconds before answering. “Mom… it’s so late, aren’t you asleep yet?”

“Xiaoman, I’m still up. Are you getting ready to rest?” The female voice on the phone was gentle.

Xiaoman was the nickname his family gave him—specifically, his grandmother. He had forgotten many things and people from his childhood, but he remembered the origin of this name. His grandmother said it was because he was born during a full moon (Manyue), and the word “Man” (Full) perfectly complemented the “Kong” (Empty) in his formal name. The old lady didn’t know that “Kongqing” referred to a rare and precious gemstone; she just wanted her grandson to have a life of “fullness” and “wholeness.”

“Not yet, Mom. Have you been busy lately?” He pulled his thoughts back, responding to the woman on the phone with a slight delay.

His father had died in a traffic accident when he was young. Su Jingjing had to leave to find work and eventually remarried and moved to Nancheng. He had lived with his grandmother in their hometown until she passed away. His relationship with Su Jingjing had always been lukewarm—it wasn’t that she was bad to him, they were just unfamiliar.

“It’s okay, not as busy as before. Is everything fine in Kun City?” Su Jingjing asked, her tone still mild. “Do you have enough money? Do you need…”

“I have enough. Everything is fine here.” He knew Su Jingjing’s life wasn’t particularly wealthy—she had given birth to a little girl a few years ago—so he rarely asked her for money. Since starting university, he helped out at his master’s pharmacy and, combined with scholarships from research projects, he had enough for his daily life.

Su Jingjing hummed in response. “Then are you in bed? Sleep early, don’t you have classes tomorrow?”

“Yes, I… I’m about to sleep,” Chen Kongqing replied haltingly, staring at the street curb in front of him.

“Alright… don’t overwork yourself in class. Mom’s hanging up now.”

After the call ended, Chen Kongqing stared at the half-cold pancake in his hand. It was a bit dry and hard to chew. But since he was still hungry, he washed it down with some water and finished it before getting on the subway.

He didn’t really know where to go. He didn’t want to return to the apartment because it didn’t feel like home. And deep in his heart, there was a hidden “wound”—a scene on a loop of him and Dr. Xu interlocking fingers at the door. He had no idea how he was going to face Dr. Xu at his next follow-up appointment.

The youth’s pale face drooped. After much deliberation, he decided to head back anyway, mostly because he was worried about the Trumpet Vines on the balcony.

As he stepped off the subway, his phone rang. Caller ID: “Ling Xiao [Pink Heart]”

The youth stared at the screen. This was even rarer than a call from Su Jingjing. He decided to be composed. He managed to stay “composed” for exactly three seconds.

“Hello.” He pursed his lips, standing at the subway exit watching the traffic.

“Where… where are you?” Ling Xiao’s voice sounded a bit raspy and soft. “Did you not come home?”

Chen Kongqing gave a firm “Mm.”

Ling Xiao: “Are you angry?”

He didn’t intend to deny it. “A little.”

The voice on the phone went silent for a moment.

“Ling Xiao, don’t you think you should say sorry to me?” Chen Kongqing didn’t mind being the proactive one. If Ling Xiao apologized—even just a simple “I’m sorry”—he would forgive him instantly.

The man on the phone was silent for another long pause. “Our team has a game next week. Tomorrow everyone’s getting together to hang out, just to relax before the match. Are you coming?”

Ling Xiao rarely invited him to gatherings or introduced him to his friends.

“Is this your way of saying sorry?” Chen Kongqing tilted his head, looking at the small, colorful wildflowers in the green belt. His mood began to take on those colors.

He heard a very faint, muffled “Mm” over the phone. Though it was blurred, he heard it. The youth couldn’t help but curve his lips. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

Ling Xiao: “When are you coming home? I’m hungry.”

“Soon,” Chen Kongqing said, his steps light as he walked toward the complex. “What do you want to eat…?”

He made Ling Xiao a bowl of gravy noodles, and they sat together for a rare dinner. It was warm and cozy. Chen Kongqing forgot all the unhappiness. He believed he would eventually move Ling Xiao’s heart. The bad times would eventually turn good.

However, Ling Xiao left immediately after finishing the noodles, saying he had night training. Chen Kongqing didn’t think much of it; Ling Xiao was in the sports department, and with a league match coming up, frequent training was normal.

He was now thinking about tomorrow’s party. Should he wear something new? But he hadn’t bought clothes in a long time…

After dreaming about it all night, he ended up wearing his usual black, white, and grey. Ling Xiao had sent him a location—a newly opened bar. He rarely went to such places because they were noisy and dark. But Ling Xiao and his friends loved them.

Before Chen Kongqing could find the booth Ling Xiao had mentioned, his heart began to thud uncomfortably. The dance floor was a sea of shifting shadows and flashing lights. After looking around and failing to find Ling Xiao, he had no choice but to pull out his phone.

The line rang for several seconds.

“Hello.” Ling Xiao’s background noise was extremely loud.

Chen Kongqing tried to find a quieter spot, covering one ear. “Ling Xiao, I can’t find you. Can you come out and get me?”

“How can you not find it?” In the background, there was the sound of people drinking and cheering. Someone called out Ling Xiao’s name, and then the call went to a busy signal.

Chen Kongqing tucked his phone away helplessly and prepared to look one more time.

“It should be over there.” In the chaotic environment, a clear voice suddenly pierced through. The voice was deep and magnetic.

Chen Kongqing found it familiar. A grey overcoat entered his downward gaze, and he slowly looked up. His eyes slid from the fine fabric of the coat’s hem all the way up.

The lights in the bar flickered between brightness and shadow. He couldn’t see the man’s face clearly. Chen Kongqing looked up into those handsome phoenix eyes, which were partially obscured by shadow.

He felt something. He felt the skin on his face growing hot under the man’s gaze, as if a layer were being scorched off. He pursed his lips and instinctively took a half-step back. Just then, someone brushed past him.

“Ugh…” Before Chen Kongqing could react, his arm was restrained by a powerful force. His body leaned into the pull.

Through his clothes, he once again felt the warmth from that large hand.

“Careful,” the man’s whisper hovered over his head.

Chen Kongqing gave a small nod, not daring to look up. He limited his vision to the man’s chest, right in front of him.

Chen Kongqing: “…”

His ears turned a tell-tale red. Feeling he was being impolite, he jerked his head to the side. But after doing so, he felt like he was only proving his guilt. As the youth bit his lower lip in deep thought, even his neck began to heat up.

Xu Jingmo looked down. From this angle, he could see every bit of the small section of Chen Kongqing’s neck—that pale skin now flushed with pink.

Was it because of my touch?

A few seconds later, the man whispered to him again, his voice kept very low: “Is it… the discomfort again?”