Still Secretly In Love With My Enemy Today - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Senior Sister Chen came like a whirlwind and returned to Iron Cloud City the same way.

“He’s in a difficult spot right now; keep a close eye on him. Come back as soon as things are settled.”

As she spoke, she donned her iron gauntlets again. With a flash of cold light, she waved at me, braced herself against the window sill, and leaped, vanishing into the air.

Not long after, I saw her glider rise in the distance, quickly fading into a mere speck in the clouds.

Xie Huaishuang tilted his head for a moment and asked me, “Has your friend left?”

I tapped twice on his palm and quickly wrote: “What did she say to you just now?”

Xie Huaishuang furrowed his brows, looking hesitant. “She said… I shouldn’t tell you.”

What on earth could be said that I’m not allowed to hear!

Seeing that Xie Huaishuang truly looked troubled, I had to tell him: “Fine, I was just asking. If she said not to tell, then don’t.”

I didn’t care anyway. Senior Sister can say whatever she wants to Xie Huaishuang; what does it have to do with me? I’m not interested at all.

Exactly.

It hadn’t even been half an hour since Senior Sister left, and it was still early. I asked him: “Shall we go out now?”

He nodded immediately, his eyes brightening as he lifted his head. I wrapped the cloak around him again, terrified someone might recognize him. I double-checked the rope, tying it once more, and pulled his wide sleeves down to cover the connection.

Xie Huaishuang rotated his wrist but said nothing.

As we headed out, I repeatedly yanked the rope to check if the knot was loose. This man was a handful; if he got lost, it would be a massive headache.

It was only once we were outside and I stopped fussing with the rope that I realized Xie Huaishuang wasn’t lying: he really did walk very slowly. He instinctively used his toes to probe the path ahead before stepping.

“Why so cautious? I’m watching the road.”

He nodded, but still habitually reached out to touch the wall on his right, resting his hand against it.

I suddenly realized something. Back when he first lost his sight, he probably fell countless times—on the roads, against walls, on stairs.

Just thinking about it made my scalp tingle. That sense of lingering fear from last night resurfaced.

If I had come any later, where would I have found him? Or would there have been nowhere to find him at all, like a block of ice melted into nothingness?

The rope in my hand suddenly tightened. Xie Huaishuang turned his head, looking confused.

“You won’t fall,” I told him immediately. “I’m watching for you. You won’t fall again.”

Xie Huaishuang looked up at me without speaking. His hand on the wall loosened. I couldn’t guess what he was thinking, but I saw him start to raise his hand toward me before pulling it back.

Perhaps the sunlight tricked my eyes, but I thought I saw his eyelashes dip and the corners of his mouth twitch into a tiny, fleeting arc.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

…

After leaving the alley, an armored steam-car happened to pass by, and I pulled Xie Huaishuang onto it.

The car was old, rusted in places, and hissed with steam as it rumbled along. It was noisy, slow, and jerky, but it was packed so tightly with people that there was nowhere to fall even if you wanted to.

I truly doubted the car would make it to its destination. But Xie Huaishuang seemed entirely unconcerned. He looked like someone who had never ridden in a car before, gripping the railing and swaying with the motion, seemingly—and bizarrely—enjoying himself.

After fifteen minutes of rattling, the armored car let out a hoot and stopped at the marketplace. Tall and short buildings lined the streets, chimneys belched smoke, and the air was a cacophony of sights and sounds.

I tugged his sleeve to lead him down.

Being out in the sun and squeezed among people seemed to make Xie Huaishuang remember he was a human being; he was very different from how he had been in Linlang Pavilion. At first, he followed me, curiously sniffing the air and probing around. Even being bumped by the crowd seemed to please him. After half an hour, I was the one following his lead.

“Why are there so many people?”

“This is the market. People selling things, street performers—everyone is here, so it’s crowded.”

“I see… what is that smell?”

I sniffed along with him. “Soup dumplings (Guan Tang Bao).”

“Soup dumplings?” He blinked. “Are they good?”

I was shocked. A snack so common even I had eaten it in a remote corner like Iron Cloud City, and he hadn’t?

Thus, Xie Huaishuang’s breakfast today consisted of a steamer of dumplings.

After all, I needed breakfast too; it was just a convenience. Besides, I was just a “passerby” now; there was no harm in sitting down for a peaceful meal with him.

I pulled him into a seat and shoved a pair of chopsticks into his hand.

He froze. “You bought these for me?”

Who else? Did I buy them for the chopsticks?

I tapped his palm twice. He held the chopsticks, lost in thought—surely he wasn’t afraid I’d poisoned them?

Eat it or don’t. I’m not so bored that I’d beg him to eat.

I decided to ignore him. I picked up my own chopsticks, lifted a dumpling, bit a small hole in it, and peeked at his expression.

Xie Huaishuang’s gaze rested on me for a moment before dropping. The tip of his chopsticks tentatively poked a dumpling, then he looked at me again.

…Eat it or don’t.

I sucked up the soup bit by bit, bit off half the dumpling, and peeked again, only to see him about to take a massive bite.

“Wait—!”

With half a dumpling still in my mouth, I rushed to stop him, but I was a second too late. Xie Huaishuang winced as he was scalded. I quickly wiped his mouth and asked anxiously: “Are you okay? Did you burn yourself?”

It sounds strange, but I truly felt like he would shatter if touched. I was nervous watching everything he did; that lingering fear had been haunting me since I found him.

—I kept remembering the moment I saw him last night: like cracked ice about to fall apart in the dim light, covered in layers of bruises and wounds.

I thought, perhaps I really want to kill him with my own hands, which is why I’m so afraid.

—So, should I kill him today?

Xie Huaishuang’s frown vanished instantly. Seeing me ask so frantically on his hand, he shook his head with some confusion. “It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

He held his chopsticks, looking puzzled. “Do you get burned by it?”

I had forgotten—he’d never even seen these before. How could he know how to eat them without getting burned or letting the soup spill?

Lesson learned for next time.

“There’s hot soup inside; don’t bite directly,” I told him. “Bite a small hole… yes, then wait—wait a bit. Slowly suck the soup up first. Yes, like that. Then eat.”

Fortunately, we already had some shorthand; otherwise, writing such a long explanation would have been exhausting.

Xie Huaishuang was a quick learner. By the second dumpling, he was ignoring me, head down, focused entirely on eating.

There was only one bottle of aromatic vinegar on the table. I asked two young ladies sitting nearby, “Are you still using this?”

They looked at me with a strange expression, appearing as if they wanted to say something but were holding back. I was confused. “What?”

The one in the pink dress waved her hand, pushing the vinegar bottle toward me. Her eyes swept over Xie Huaishuang, and then she looked at her companion, both of them covering their mouths, their lips twitching into a bizarre, suppressed smile.

How strange. What’s wrong with dipping my dumplings in vinegar? Everyone in Iron Cloud City eats like this!

I pretended not to notice, poured some vinegar into a dish, added half a spoonful of chili oil, and nudged Xie Huaishuang as he went for his third dumpling. “Want to dip it in vinegar?”

He didn’t look like someone who could handle chili.

“Dip in vinegar?”

Never mind. I just took his dish, poured some in, and guided his sleeve to let him try a dip. “Taste it.”

Xie Huaishuang followed my lead. The dumpling rolled once in the vinegar; he took a careful bite, and his eyebrows shot up.

He said muffledly, “You know so much.”

Does this even count as “much”?

But since he fully understood the importance of dipping dumplings in vinegar, the unforgivable Xie Huaishuang finally had one redeeming quality.

…

Even at the Iron Cloud City market, I only went when I needed to buy something, heading straight for my goal and leaving immediately.

One reason was that I was always busy—blueprints to draw, parts to fix, gear angles to calculate. More importantly, wandering around alone felt… strange.

I don’t know what others think, but that’s how I felt.

But now, being with someone else—even if it was someone I hated—it didn’t feel so awkward.

I’m not sure why, but some things feel uncomfortable alone and perfectly natural with two people. Not that I’m saying I enjoy strolling with Xie Huaishuang.

Xie Huaishuang seemed genuinely curious about everything, as if it were his first time in the world. Since he couldn’t see or hear, and not everything had a scent, I would write a description in his hand whenever we arrived at a new spot.

“This is a blacksmith; stand back a bit. Sparks fly when the mechanical arm drops.”

“This is a tailor.” I pulled Xie Huaishuang over—his current clothes were an eyesore.

“This is a roasted chestnut vendor; the brass chimney on the cart is vibrating.”

“These are various trinkets—colorful silk flowers and iron butterflies that fly on steam.”

“This is a sugar-figure blower…”

“Sugar figures? What do they look like?”

They didn’t sell these in Iron Cloud City, and I hadn’t seen them much either. Watching the thick, amber syrup transform into various shapes was quite a novelty. “I don’t know what kind of sugar… they blow into it, and it becomes people or animals.”

Xie Huaishuang gave an “oh,” his eyes trying to find the stall. I asked: “Do you want one?”

He turned his head, blinking. “Me… for me?”

He looked astonished, his emerald eyes wavering. How on earth did he live in the Temple before?

“There are monkeys, deer… goldfish, gourds, and lanterns,” I stretched my neck to see the styles through the crowd. “Which one do you want?”

I was going to buy one anyway. Just a convenience.

It looked like there was only one sugar monkey left. He’d better not compete with me for it!

Xie Huaishuang thought for a moment and whispered, “A goldfish… is that okay?”

I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled him to the front.

The sugar monkey was a thin layer of amber, glowing translucently in the light. I admired it with satisfaction, then turned to see Xie Huaishuang bringing the amber goldfish to his nose to sniff it. His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.

“So there are such lively places,” he said, turning the sugar goldfish. “That person just now was amazing. How can you blow sugar into a shape?”

Seeing him look like someone who could be tricked away by a single piece of candy, I asked incredulously: “Is this the first time you’ve seen so many people?”

Xie Huaishuang thought and nodded.

“There are many good things in this world,” I pulled him aside to avoid the crowd. “There are also many amazing and clever people.”

Xie Huaishuang looked away from the sugar goldfish. “I used to think… everyone in the world looked the same.”

“The same”? What did that look like? Was I among them, no different from the rest?

I really wanted to ask, but as a “passerby,” I couldn’t. He didn’t elaborate, lowering his head to play with his goldfish again.

Ahead, a crowd had gathered. Xie Huaishuang sensed the sudden increase in people and asked, “What are they selling here?”

This is…

I frowned after one look and pulled Xie Huaishuang away.

It was a station set up by the Temple to repair mechanical tools. Two low-ranking priests stood there. After finishing a repair, they would re-attach Temple talismans to the copper lamps or self-winding clocks, chanting about how the item was blessed by the God of Xiling. Utterly mystical nonsense.

Bad luck.

“What is it?”

I told him: “Filth.”

As soon as I said it, I had an epiphany. I knew strolling through the market with my most hated rival wasn’t just a whim; it was a long-term plan of mine, waiting for this exact moment—I was insulting the Temple right to his face, and he didn’t even know. He even had to nod and thank me.

See? I definitely have my reasons.

The street wasn’t actually that long, but Xie Huaishuang and I stopped every few steps. By the time we reached the end, the lamps were beginning to be lit.

The day had been warm, but it was early spring, and the night air was still biting. I asked him: “Shall we go back for today and visit somewhere else tomorrow?”

Xie Huaishuang was looking up, his fingertips gently brushing a few branches of purple magnolia hanging overhead. Hearing my question, he realized: “Is it very late?”

He hopped down from the stone he was standing on and caught a corner of my sleeve. “Let’s go.”

The thought of returning to Linlang Pavilion annoyed me. I asked him again: “If you don’t want to go back—to Linlang Pavilion—I can take you away right now.”

I had planted many flowers at my place, including two purple magnolias that were currently in full bloom. Before leaving, I had plucked a branch and put it in a vase on my Iron Vermilion Bird.

The twilight and the shadow of the magnolias fell across his forehead and cheeks. He thought for a second and shook his head.

“But why—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to leave—I can’t leave by myself.”

He paused and said softly, “Many people here were tricked into coming; everyone wants to leave. I want to help them leave.”

I hadn’t expected that reason.

Since entering Linlang Pavilion last night, I’d felt it was a den of filth and had thought about coming back to clean it out.

But in Xie Huaishuang’s current state…

“Don’t you know you’re like a clay Buddha crossing a river—unable even to save yourself?”

He might not even be able to get himself out safely. Leave? How? And where to?

Xie Huaishuang couldn’t answer and remained silent. I could only guess.

“Is there someone powerful helping you?”

Xie Huaishuang didn’t speak; he just shook his head.

“Then… did you bring a very powerful weapon?”

Still no answer, just another shake of his head.

“Could it be,” I asked a question I really didn’t want to ask, “that you plan to pray to that God of Xiling?”

Hearing this, Xie Huaishuang’s eyelashes fluttered. He didn’t shake his head but continued his silence. I realized with disappointment that he probably was thinking that.

I hated remembering that he was a man of the Temple.

Led by the Great Shaman and this High Priest, they would only pray to a motionless statue whenever something happened. It was as if everything—from whether a copper lamp worked to whether a hundred-foot calculation tower could predict the farming season—could be solved by worshiping a pile of gold-painted clay.

What divine power does clay have? Those lamps, gliders, and towers clearly rely on gears, levers, and black amber.

“Is there any point? You…”

I suddenly saw Xie Huaishuang’s expression and realized I might have spoken too harshly. My hand paused.

I couldn’t finish my sentence. What should I say? That I didn’t mean it that way? But I did mean it.

Why did I feel so guilty?