Sweet Gardenia - Chapter 11.1

“Where?”

Following where she pointed, Fu Yanshang lifted the edge of his shirt slightly.

This time, she could see it clearly.

It was indeed a flame-shaped tattoo, a hollow, dark red flame. She had no idea how it was done, but it had a textured, undulating feel, making the burning flame appear incredibly lifelike.

She confirmed, “It’s a tattoo, right?”

“Mm,” he replied tersely, “I saved someone.”

Lu Zhi: ?

“When I was seventeen, studying in the U.S., I passed by a shooting scene and saved a little girl.”

It wasn’t a big deal to him, so he glossed over it briefly.

“And then? Did you get shot?”

“Mm.”

Lu Zhi realized he truly didn’t think much of it. Saving someone was such a significant event.  Anyone else would have bragged about it vividly for over a decade.

But her curiosity swelled unusually: “Did you take the bullet for her?”

Noticing her keen interest, he leaned in slightly: “Yes.”

He answered only when asked, like squeezing toothpaste. She muttered, “Can’t you be more detailed?”

“That day, Jing Chi and I went out for a meal. There was a robbery on the street with a gun. A little girl, about this tall,” he gestured to his waist, “seven or eight years old, no adults around, standing there frozen in fear. If I hadn’t stepped in, the bullet would have pierced her heart.”

“That’s about it,” he said. “Detailed enough?”

“…”

She instinctively touched her own heart.

Fu Yanshang: “You weren’t even there. Why are you touching your heart?”

“It’s called empathy,” she said, imagining herself in that situation and feeling a lingering fear. “Did she thank you afterward?”

“No,” he replied. “I never saw her again.”

“Besides, I didn’t save her for any reward.”

Lu Zhi vaguely felt a sense of belated fear: “Then I guess I’m really lucky.”

“Hmm?”

“I went to the U.S. as a kid too, but I was too young, only in my teens. I don’t remember it now.” She speculated, “But it must’ve been before your shooting incident.”

“If there had been a major shooting back then, my mom wouldn’t have let me go. Good thing I missed it.”

She tilted her head, leaning closer to look, her breath evenly brushing against his side and abdomen: “Did you get the tattoo because of the scar?”

“Mm, the bullet didn’t go all the way through; it got lodged in the muscle, so they had to cut it out to remove it,” he shifted slightly. “There’s no incision on the lower back.”

She examined it and, sure enough, there wasn’t.

“Anyway, if it were me, I wouldn’t be so rude. Saving a life is such a huge deal.  At the very least, I should thank you,” she said. “And there are plenty of medications to prevent scar tissue from growing. If you had saved me, I definitely wouldn’t have let you keep the scar.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “It’s just a mark.”

For once, she agreed wholeheartedly: “Yeah, this is your medal. A glorious one.”

He parted his lips to speak but paused mid-syllable as her hand, curious and innocent, touched the skin there. She loved having the air conditioning on, so her fingertips were cool. The soft, cold pads of her fingers met the numb scar tissue, creating a peculiar, tingling sensation.

Like a local anesthetic for the skin.

Lu Zhi carefully sensed the messages transmitted through her fingertips. The naturally uneven scar made the touch feel like climbing over small hills, vividly igniting a cluster of flames while also bringing a unique and wondrous sensory experience.

“Stop touching,” he said.

She scoffed and withdrew her hand. “You’re so stingy.”

He buttoned up his shirt. “Stingy or not, you’ve already touched and heard everything.”

“Just so you won’t accuse me of taking advantage of you,” she said, stretching out her leg and pulling her sock halfway down. “Look, I have one too.”

On the inner side of her right ankle was a tattoo of a gardenia of just the right length, simple lines in bluish-green, soft petals and stem, with no other colors. It made her skin appear even whiter, like polished jade.

He half-knelt by the edge of the mattress and leaned in.

The posture was too imposing. For some reason, her first instinct was to pull back, but she didn’t succeed. Soon, he grasped her ankle. His palm was warm.

Fu Yanshang lifted his head, meeting her gaze at eye level.

“If it’s so beautiful, why cover it?”

“I’m not covering it,” she said. “I wear socks because I’m cold.”

“…”

He asked casually, “When did you get the tattoo?”

A moment of silence passed.

Her silence was peculiar. The man in front of her lifted his eyes, and she averted her gaze slightly before saying, “When it was decided that I would marry into the Fu family.”

At that time, the candidate was still Fu Wang, who was considered among the upper echelons in elite circles, with a good reputation among the elders. After all, even setting aside the arranged marriage, how many people in this lifetime get to encounter true love? The probability is about the same as being struck by the same bolt of lightning three times in a row while walking down the street and still surviving.

…Of course, there’s still a chance, which is why she held onto a sliver of hope for love. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been making romance games. But it was at this moment that a turning point occurred.

She had an older sister, two years her senior, and an older brother, seven years her senior, both, without exception, had entered arranged marriages. On the day the cooperation contract with the Fu family was signed, she unexpectedly moved away from her computer and happened to receive a message from Li Siyi, saying she’d spotted Fu Wang at Rolling Club.

She had just finished getting a monochrome gardenia tattoo. The anesthesia had worn off, and her ankle was tingling with sensation. Since the tattoo parlor was near the club, she went to find Li Siyi and, incidentally, wanted to see what this person looked like, but the situation took a sharp turn for the worse. She overheard Fu Wang engaging in a threesome on the open-air balcony.

The December cold was freezing, and even the tightly shut door couldn’t muffle the sounds completely. Standing outside the door, she didn’t feel humiliation or heartache.  She simply had a pure dislike for players. Besides, with the contract signed, it would be difficult to cancel the marriage. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and she delicately added three packets of laxative to the black tea she was about to bring him.

If Fu Yanshang hadn’t shown up at that moment, she might have added five packets.

What followed was a series of maneuvers and countermeasures. Fu Wang was severely beaten by the old man and sent abroad for confinement, and her arranged marriage partner was switched to Fu Yanshang.

Though at the time, she also wondered: someone so handsome, still single at 27, could he have some hidden issues? But never mind, he was still better than Fu Wang. At worst, she could avoid him for three months after marriage. So, she signed up for a winter travel camp, which also led to her and Fu Yanshang meeting only four times in the six months since their marriage, though his frequent business trips abroad certainly played a part in that as well.

All in all, Lu Zhi said, “Marriage of convenience can grant me almost every kind of freedom except in marriage itself. That’s the promise my family gave me, so I agreed.”

“But back then, I had no idea what kind of person I’d be marrying. Will things get better in the future? Can I really be myself without any reservations just by moving to a new place? I don’t know if the future me will approve of this current ‘best choice,’ but anyway…” The more she spoke, the less sense she made, so she wrapped it up with a random philosophical flourish: “Remind myself to live for my own sake.  That’s pretty much it.”

Perhaps part of the reason was also that she wanted to add a hint of rebellion to this kind of life.

She wasn’t as obedient as her family thought; she could still be herself freely, in moments she could control.

His features were striking, especially when he lowered his head.  The shadows cast by his defined bone structure almost concealed all the subtle expressions on his face. Lu Zhi wondered why he wasn’t responding at all and nudged his shoulder with her ankle: “Are you even listening to me…”

The next second, his grip on her ankle tightened, forcing her leg straight. He tilted his head, his nose brushing against her calf.

Then, his lips descended.

She stiffened instantly.

He was kissing the gardenia tattoo…