Living with My Aloof Ex-Wife After the Apocalypse - Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Like a Piece of Fruit

Xing He had obtained the answer that had haunted her dreams.

It was like a fruit-flavored candy—stunning upon the first taste, with a lingering aftertaste that grew deeper as it swirled, gradually filling her nose and her entire chest.

Would Qing Meng remember their conversation tonight? If she knew Xing He had taken advantage of her vulnerable state, what would she think?

Instinctively, Xing He felt dissatisfied with their current relationship. But where should the next step lead?

Remarriage?

How would she even bring that up?

As a sweet form of punishment, Xing He tossed and turned all night, her eyes wide open until dawn.

When Qing Meng opened her eyes, the Xing He beside her was sporting faint dark circles under her eyes. However, Qing Meng wasn’t wearing her glasses; the world was a hazy blur of silhouettes, and she instinctively called out the name of the person beside her.

“Xing He…”

Having just woken from a dream, Qing Meng’s voice wasn’t fully open yet. It carried a low, raspy quality that added a unique charm to her tone—especially when she uttered those two syllables.

If last night hadn’t happened, Xing He would have found the sound a pure delight. But now was different; she had committed a “misdeed” just hours ago. Consequently, the previously listless Xing He sat bolt upright like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

“Ah? I went to sleep early last night and just woke up! Hahaha, what a beautiful day!”

Xing He’s sudden volume jump startled Qing Meng. Although her head throbbed with a dull hangover ache, Xing He’s behavior was clearly abnormal. She worried she might have said something inappropriate last night, but no matter how hard she tried to recall the details, the memory was a blank.

Qing Meng sat up and put on her glasses. The vision of Xing He finally became clear, revealing the prominent dark circles.

Qing Meng spoke tentatively: “Xing He… what’s wrong?”

Xing He’s acting skills were mediocre at best. She overcompensated with empty emphasis: “Nothing’s wrong! Nothing at all! I’m going to go wash up first.”

Before the words even finished landing, she dashed off to the bathroom.

Only when she was out of Qing Meng’s sight did Xing He finally breathe a sigh of relief. Even though their relationship hadn’t undergone any substantial change yet, she truly hadn’t figured out how to face the other woman.

The “culprit” fled without a backward glance, unaware that on the bed, Qing Meng’s heart had already turned half-cold.

Xing He was usually decisive and never lingered, so everyone assumed she was that way with everything. Only Qing Meng knew her little habit: Xing He loved to sleep in. No matter when she went to bed, she would usually whimper and lounge for at least ten minutes upon waking. If she didn’t linger, it meant either there was a monumental event that day—or she hadn’t slept at all.

Despite Xing He’s cover-up, Qing Meng saw through it instantly: she hadn’t slept last night.

Why?

Aside from having two extra people in the house, yesterday was no different from any other day. If something kept Xing He awake all night, the reason could only be found in Qing Meng’s drunken state.

Qing Meng didn’t usually allow herself to get drunk; she had simply been so focused on Xing He last night that she ignored the boundary of sobriety. She hadn’t known how to drink in the first twenty years of her life—in the Qing family’s education, alcohol was considered a taboo.

Her first experience with alcohol dated back to six months after her divorce from Xing He. During that time, she felt a void in her life, as if she couldn’t summon the energy for anything. Jiang Ping’an happened to be in North City on a business trip, heard about the situation, and immediately took Qing Meng to a bar.

Qing Meng had never been to such a place. Her first impression was a mess of nonsensical flashing lights and deafening DJ music. Jiang Ping’an, however, insisted that the best way to forget someone was to start a new relationship. She pointed at the handsome men and beautiful women in the bar with fighting spirit, as if pointing at a kingdom she had conquered for Qing Meng.

Qing Meng looked. In the center of the dance floor, bodies swayed and pressed together. Some were kissing so passionately that hands were already slipping under skirts. Bound by both psychological and physical fastidiousness, Qing Meng found it hard to approve of this method of venting desire. To be precise, she disliked the place, though she didn’t show it for her friend’s sake.

Fortunately, Jiang Ping’an was good at reading the room. Seeing Qing Meng’s furrowed brow, she wisely dropped the matchmaking idea. However, the trip wasn’t a total loss; Qing Meng discovered something new: alcohol.

She didn’t like the taste of most spirits—they were bitter or astringent. Even with fruity cocktails, the burn of the alcohol couldn’t be hidden. But when she ignored the taste and reached the moment where the alcohol filled her brain, the unpalatable liquid transformed into the most effective sedative. Everything important or trivial vanished; her body felt weightless, leaving only the dopamine rush.

Qing Meng fell in love with that state of being slightly tipsy. Excessive drinking damages brain cells—bad for a researcher—but she was good at controlling her limit. Her only true “drunken” episode was that night with Jiang Ping’an. Lacking experience, she drank too much and remembered nothing the next day. Jiang Ping’an told her she had spent the entire night talking about how much she missed Xing He.

She had learned early on that alcohol makes one lose their reason.

Since their reunion, the feelings in Qing Meng’s heart had grown like stubborn weeds; a single breeze was enough to make them spread uncontrollably. Even though Xing He showed no physical desire for her during their marriage, and even though she knew Xing He didn’t see her as more than a friend… she couldn’t look away.

Love is love; there is no logic, no room for bargaining. After the forehead kiss a few days ago, she had even begun to optimistically imagine a future where they lived in seclusion, undisturbed by the world.

With the catalyst of alcohol, Qing Meng was almost certain she had revealed her heart to Xing He last night.

What was Xing He’s response? Qing Meng didn’t remember. But what answer is clearer than avoidance?

Xing He’s avoidance was like a long needle piercing through her defenses straight to the heart, injecting a powerful sedative. It made her calm—but it was a killing blow.

Xing He had braved danger to save her at the hospital, which had sent tremors of hope through her heart. Xing He was willing to talk about past and present lives; Qing Meng thought she had seen through Xing He’s confusion and fear, becoming the most important person to her.

She believed she was special to Xing He.

But is this “specialness” born of love? Or was it just that during that drunken second of confession, she happened to be the only person sitting there?

Did Xing He want to save her master’s daughter, her ex-wife, or the unique individual named Qing Meng?

A bitter smile played at the corner of Qing Meng’s lips. Even if the person in this role were some “Jane Doe,” Xing He would likely have saved her just as resolutely. That was morality, responsibility, and a debt of gratitude to Qing Baishu—but it wasn’t love.

Even without love, Xing He would do her best. Qing Meng had learned this during their “in name only” marriage. Xing He always came home the moment she had leave; she cared for the senior Qings so well that Qing Meng never had to worry; she hired a cook for the house and bought Qing Meng clothes (even if they were a bit old-fashioned).

Xing He was the best model wife possible, but the body doesn’t lie. She never touched her, and she didn’t love her.

If only Xing He hadn’t come to save her. Then, even with the accidental reunion, she could have smoothed over her feelings in a short time. She wouldn’t have developed this delusion of spending forever with her.

“Thank you for looking after me these past two days. I’ll head into the city this afternoon to find the rescue troops.”

The statement came out of nowhere, leaving Xing He stunned. “Why?”

“My staying here serves no purpose for you. I’ll only end up becoming a burden.”

Not knowing where this sudden thought came from, Xing He gripped her cup tightly and looked at her cautiously. “Fan Hua and Chen Xia are here, as are Auntie Chen and Dou Dou. Everyone is here. I would never consider anyone a burden. Can’t you stay?”

Xing He was trying to make her stay, but the words only made Qing Meng’s heart sink into an icy abyss.

She wouldn’t consider “anyone” a burden. Did it even matter who the person was?

Qing Meng wasn’t like Auntie Chen or Dou Dou, who had nowhere to go and had to rely on the powerful Xing He. She had her own career and understood her duty. At the hospital, she had let a surge of love make her abandon everything to follow Xing He to this small courtyard.

But now, Xing He had personally put a period at the end of her unrequited love. It was time to return to reality and do what she was meant to do.

Qing Meng drew a line of distance, her tone polite but detached. “I am a researcher. I can save people. They need me out there. Thank you for your care during this time.”

The words were formal, but they were true. Xing He didn’t know how to argue. She had always known Qing Meng wouldn’t be content living a meaningless life in a small courtyard. Qing Meng’s dream was to heal people; she was willing to dedicate her life to research. She wouldn’t allow herself to be selfish and hide in a safe haven when she had the power to help those in misery.

From the past life to the present, Qing Meng had always been this way. But Xing He had changed. Having experienced death and rebirth, she was no longer the pure-hearted hero who wanted to save everyone. Now, she was simply stubbornly pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist, wanting only to keep Qing Meng by her side.

Support Living with My Aloof Ex-Wife After the Apocalypse