If I Die, Will You Still Hate Me? - Chapter 9

“Can I come up?”

Early in the morning, Tan Hui was already up preparing food. She told everyone she met that her two grandsons were coming back. Everyone in the village knew that these two grandsons were Jiang Xuzhou of Baiwen Group and Ye Xun.

After Jiang Xuzhou’s company stabilized, he personally funded the construction of new concrete roads and a community center for the village, and also donated funds to build a hope primary school.

It could be said that he did everything he could and should have done.

For the first time in her life, Tan Hui, who had always been hunched over, straightened her back with pride.

She politely declined the vegetables offered by a few stall owners and slowly headed home, peering out the door occasionally.

Finally, on her fifteenth look, she saw the familiar black SUV.

Ye Xun applied the handbrake, leaned in close to the sleeping Jiang Xuzhou to check his lips, and only after confirming they were no longer a frightening purplish-blue did he pull back and wake him up.

Jiang Xuzhou’s hair wasn’t fixed with gel today. A few longer strands of his fringe hung down, softening his facial features. He turned to look out the window, his voice husky from sleep: “We’re here?”

Ye Xun affirmed and told him to take a moment before getting out so he wouldn’t catch a cold from the draft. With that, Ye Xun got out of the car first.

Jiang Xuzhou looked at the small single-story house through the grayish-black window, the house he had lived in for most of his life.

Jiang Xuzhou had previously suggested building Tan Hui a small two-story building like the others, but Tan Hui refused. She said there was no need for an old woman like her to live in such a nice house; this old family home passed down through generations was fine. She paused, then added that they could build a better parking lot out front—to make it easier for Jiang Xuzhou and the others to park.

He watched as Ye Xun smiled, took the health supplements he bought from the trunk, presented them to Tan Hui, and affectionately took her arm. Tan Hui also smiled happily, pulling Ye Xun toward the house, completely forgetting that her own grandson was still in the car.

Jiang Xuzhou didn’t mind. He pulled his clothes tight, coughed a few times, and painstakingly pushed the car door open. Before he could step out, a thick cotton jacket was draped over him.

“Dear grandson, why are you wearing so little?” Tan Hui pinched his clothes and asked, “Can these clothes protect you from the cold wind?”

When he left home today, the weather was relatively mild, so he had opted for a white long-sleeved shirt, a light brown fleece jacket, and dark jeans. However, he forgot that Tan Hui’s place was in the suburbs, where it was a degree or two colder than in the city.

Jiang Xuzhou, being over six feet tall, couldn’t fit into Tan Hui’s five-foot jacket; he could only drape it over his shoulders and hastily give Tan Hui a few perfunctory replies.

Tan Hui noticed his distraction, stamped her foot, and feigned annoyance: “When you get old, you’ll get chronic cold in your legs, and then you’ll have to rely on Xiao Xun to carry you in winter.”

Ye Xun happened to be standing by the door and heard the entire conversation between the grandmother and grandson. He laughed and joked: “I won’t carry him. I’ll just dump him in a wheelchair.”

“Exactly, Xiao Xun, Grandma supports you!” Tan Hui decisively sided with Ye Xun.

Jiang Xuzhou slowed his steps, the softest part of his heart touched by this scene. He wished things could always be like this.

Unfortunately, it was impossible.

He walked into the house, and upon looking up, saw Ye Xun sitting on a low stool, gnawing on a roasted sweet potato. Black charcoal ash was smudged near his mouth, making Jiang Xuzhou suppress a smile.

Tan Hui walked with quick, small steps into the kitchen, also taking out a roasted sweet potato, and told them to wait by the door. She would heat the dishes, and they could eat soon.

Jiang Xuzhou took the sweet potato but didn’t rush to eat it, merely holding it to warm his hands.

The empty living room was filled only with the sound of Ye Xun chewing the sweet potato. When the sound became fainter, Jiang Xuzhou offered his sweet potato: “Do you want more?”

Since Tan Hui wasn’t there, Ye Xun and Jiang Xuzhou didn’t need to pretend to be affectionate.

Ye Xun shook his head, an air of unfamiliarity emanating from him. Jiang Xuzhou retracted his hand and went to the kitchen to help Tan Hui.

In Jiang Xuzhou’s mind, if he kept a sufficient distance from Ye Xun, he wouldn’t love Ye Xun so much, and slowly he would be able to let go.

Jiang Xuzhou arranged the dishes, served rice for Tan Hui and Ye Xun, and sat beside them with an empty bowl.

His stomach was starting to ache faintly again. He had spent the whole day in meetings dealing with stock market issues and hadn’t managed to eat more than a few bites. In fact, it had been hurting a little before they set off, but he was afraid of wasting time, so he took two painkillers. The effect had worn off now.

The hand holding the bowl trembled slightly. He bit his lower lip, trying hard to hold back.

Tan Hui had presbyopia and couldn’t see Jiang Xuzhou’s discomfort. She picked up a chicken drumstick for Ye Xun’s bowl, then one for Jiang Xuzhou’s bowl.

Jiang Xuzhou felt the weight of the bowl sink. He lost his grip for a moment, and the porcelain bowl fell to the ground, shattering. The fragments scattered, and the pristine white drumstick rolled a few times on the concrete floor, gathering a lot of dust.

He bent over, forcefully pressing his knee into his stomach for a while—that helped to alleviate the pain. After a few seconds, he let out a ragged breath, picked up the drumstick, and intended to rinse it off.

“I’ll do it. You eat mine.” Ye Xun placed his bowl in front of Jiang Xuzhou, naturally took the drumstick from his hand, and got up to clean the shattered porcelain.

He swept diligently, and Jiang Xuzhou, too, diligently traced his profile with his eyes. Ye Xun’s features were not individually outstanding, but his smile was particularly captivating. That’s what won Jiang Xuzhou over.

Ye Xun carefully cleaned the floor, then squatted down to check the ground thoroughly, ensuring no fragments were missed. Only then did he wrap the pieces with paper towels and clear tape and dispose of them in the trash.

Just then, his peripheral vision caught Jiang Xuzhou resting his chin on his hand and watching him, a multitude of emotions hidden in his dark eyes.

Ye Xun couldn’t read them, and he didn’t want to.

“You should eat. Why are you staring at Xiao Xun like that? Haven’t you seen enough of him after all these years?” Tan Hui noticed Jiang Xuzhou’s eyes intensely fixed on Ye Xun’s back, practically stretching like silk, and couldn’t resist teasing him.

Jiang Xuzhou seemed to snap out of a daze, quickly withdrew his gaze, shook his head, and replied that he hadn’t.

How could he ever see enough? Jiang Xuzhou thought. With a countdown ticking on his life, every glance now means one less glance later. He couldn’t bear to leave Ye Xun so quickly.

Ye Xun turned back and smiled kindly, seemingly comforting Jiang Xuzhou: “It’s okay, I’ll be right back.”

Dinner passed quickly. Jiang Xuzhou was fed many dishes by Tan Hui, which he couldn’t refuse. This led to his already uncomfortable stomach feeling even worse.

However, he didn’t tell Tan Hui. His stomach illness was caused by constant socializing and drinking during the early days of establishing his company, something Tan Hui had always been unaware of.

But Ye Xun noticed. He pursed his lips, got up and poured a glass of warm water, and without saying a word, gently tapped Jiang Xuzhou’s hand with the cup.

“Thank you,” Jiang Xuzhou whispered.

Ye Xun turned and smiled at Tan Hui: “Grandma, it’s getting late. You should rest early.”

Tan Hui looked at the time and found it was indeed her bedtime. She took Ye Xun’s extended hand for leverage to stand up: “Your room is already cleaned. Get some sleep.”

This old house had two rooms and one living room. This meant that, after four years, the two of them would be sleeping together again.

Ye Xun shrugged and walked into the small room, which was less than ten square meters. Jiang Xuzhou followed him, awkwardly saying: “You sleep on the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Ye Xun wasn’t that delicate, and besides, they had slept together before: “It’s fine. No need.”

Although this answer matched Jiang Xuzhou’s own desire, he immediately reconsidered. They had broken up. If sleeping in the same bed caused a misunderstanding with Ye Xun’s current boyfriend, Cheng Zhaolin, he would be completely unable to clear his name.

“I’ll still sleep on the floor,” Jiang Xuzhou insisted. He even took the cotton bedding out of the closet, ready to spread it on the ground.

Ye Xun didn’t expect Jiang Xuzhou to be so eager to draw boundaries between them. He was confused but couldn’t bear to let Jiang Xuzhou sleep on the floor: “If you insist, then I’ll sleep on the floor, and you take the bed.”

Jiang Xuzhou was still adamant: “You’re the guest, and I’m the one asking for your help. I couldn’t possibly let you sleep on the floor.”

When they were together, Ye Xun had noticed that Jiang Xuzhou was very stubborn about certain things, such as this.

Ye Xun didn’t want to argue much with Jiang Xuzhou. He simply took the bedding from his hand, made up the floor bed, slipped under the covers, and told the stunned Jiang Xuzhou: “Remember to turn off the light.”

With that, he drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Jiang Xuzhou lay in bed, unable to sleep. His stomach had flared up again. He covered his forehead with the blanket, curled up, bit his lower lip to suppress the moans in his throat, and cold sweat soaked his cotton pajamas.

The stomach pain gradually spread. Slowly, he felt his temples throbbing fiercely along with it.

He reached out to feel for the nightstand but found nothing.

He realized this was Tan Hui’s house, and there was no nightstand; the painkillers were still in the car.

For some reason, his pain-muddled mind actually started contemplating giving up. He suddenly realized that whether he passed out from the pain or died from it, either would be a decent option.

The moment this thought surfaced, the long-held tension inside him snapped. His consciousness grew hazy. Jiang Xuzhou felt like a lone boat floating on the sea, the waves of pain constantly crashing over him.

He couldn’t muster an ounce of strength.

Just give up. He told himself.

Just as his consciousness was about to plunge into the endless abyss, Jiang Xuzhou heard the rustling of blankets being pulled back by the bed. Then, a familiar person sighed. A slightly feverish hand gently settled on his stomach and began to rub it slowly.

The person asked: “Can I come up?”

However, he was clearly not asking for Jiang Xuzhou’s opinion, because the person was already climbing onto the bed. The warm body carried a faint scent of laundry detergent, slowly melting the coldness inside Jiang Xuzhou’s blankets.

The person leaned close to Jiang Xuzhou’s ear, their warm breath fanning his earlobe, and asked deliberately: “Jiang Xuzhou, how many times do I have to save you before you’ll let me go?“