My Mysterious Darling Wife (GL) - Chapter 16

The rain fell intermittently throughout the night, its sparse rhythm still pattering against the windowsill at dawn.

Remarkably, the weather forecast had actually been accurate for once. When Zhang Yuning woke up, she found herself wrapped up like a dumpling, the entire blanket rolled around her. For some reason, a sudden chill had pierced her body during the night, a bone-deep cold that seemed to penetrate from head to toe.

Fortunately, she woke up at 640 AM, while Chi Nian was still asleep, finally giving her a chance to make breakfast. She sat up immediately, splashed cold water on her face, and headed to the kitchen.

Still feeling cold, as if she were in an ice cellar, Zhang Yuning grabbed a jacket and wrapped herself up. The open-plan layout of the apartment meant she had to be quiet to avoid waking Chi Nian.

She decided to make sandwiches with a cup of instant soy milk and a side of sliced fruit, a healthy and green-looking meal.

After quietly preparing the food, Zhang Yuning glanced at her watch—exactly 700 AM. Carrying the plate, she slid open the kitchen door and found Chi Nian already up, looking freshly washed and ready for the day.

Chi Nian wore a black headband, her hair casually styled in a bun with wispy bangs framing her forehead, accentuating her delicate, misty eyebrows. Upon closer inspection, Zhang Yuning noticed a faint mole at the peak of Chi Nian’s eyebrow, like the final, defining touch in a portrait of a beauty—not a flaw, but rather an embellishment that enhanced her allure.

Chi Nian wore a plain white T-shirt, likely pulled from her closet to serve as sleepwear or loungewear. Yet even this simple garment exuded an inexplicable sense of style on her. Without makeup, her face appeared as if it had already been primed with foundation, nearly flawless. A subtle air of mystery and aloofness lingered between her brows and eyes.

Seated at the bar counter, Chi Nian glanced up at Zhang Yuning, her gaze settling on the shirt draped over her shoulders.

Are you cold?

Just a little chilly, but it’s fine.

Chi Nian’s relaxed expression tightened with concern as she studied Zhang Yuning’s face. Ultimately, she said nothing, only murmuring, I’d like some water, warm water.

Without hesitation, Zhang Yuning complied, attending to her needs. Chi Nian’s meticulous habits—her disciplined morning routine and restrained eating habits—clearly marked her as someone who valued health and wellness.

If this continued, Zhang Yuning’s own life would gradually adopt a more structured and healthy rhythm.

Chi Nian remained focused on her meal, eating in silence, without looking at her phone or doing anything else. Zhang Yuning finished her breakfast in a few bites and began scrolling through her phone for yesterday’s news. Strangely, the rumors surrounding Chi Nian’s identity hadn’t spread. Apart from yesterday’s pop-up notification, there had been no further developments.

This speed… Mo Lindi couldn’t possibly have missed it. Her execution and decisiveness were astonishing. There was no logical reason for her to remain inactive after learning about Miss Chi. Even if the news had only been up for two minutes, it would have spread like wildfire across Glass Island, making it impossible to retract.

Even if the police weren’t investigating, President Chi couldn’t be dead, could he? His sister had reappeared, now the largest shareholder of Chi Shang Group, posing a mortal threat to his position. Would he really do nothing?

Chi Nian took twenty minutes to finish a single sandwich, truly savoring each bite. Zhang Yuning waited patiently, then immediately cleared the table and washed the dishes, eager to help. Just as she finished, Chi Nian’s phone rang. This time, she spoke entirely in Chinese, a rare occurrence.

Not today, she said, her voice brimming with amusement. Zhang Yuning watched her speak on the phone for the first time.

I don’t want to go out in the rain. Let’s meet at the tower when the weather clears up.

If you’d like to do something else, I’m happy to join you.

The drinks are on me.

The call seemed purely social, Chi Nian’s social butterfly demeanor strikingly different from her usual self. Zhang Yuning speculated that someone had originally scheduled a meeting, but it was postponed due to the rain. Just rain? If it were an important engagement, would they really postpone it? The other party sounded difficult to deal with, yet Chi Nian seemed to handle them with effortless ease.

After wrapping up the call with a few quick words, Chi Nian’s smile vanished instantly, without even a trace of transition.

That forced, strained smile just now felt like she was fighting against herself. Isn’t she supposed to be a natural at socializing? Aren’t these things supposed to come easily to her? Why does she look so exhausted after just one phone call?

Which side of her is the real one?

She loves drinking, clubbing, going out, throwing parties—all things lively and vibrant. Yet the Chi Nian before her now exuded a sense of calm after weathering storms, a world-weary detachment, and a quiet acceptance of sorrowful solitude.

The contrast was too stark. Zhang Yuning suddenly wanted to see if the Chi Nian in social settings still resembled the person she once knew.

Zhang Yuning withdrew her gaze and rubbed her forehead, feeling vaguely unwell, mainly due to the cold.

From childhood, she had endured barefoot winters and hunger without ever falling ill. But today’s sensation was unprecedented. An icy chill seemed to emanate from within, her breath exhaling cold air instead of warmth, and her hands and feet were numb with cold.

She had never been concerned about illness, but her basic medical knowledge allowed her to recognize the symptoms. This persistent chill likely foreshadowed a high fever.

Perhaps her constitution was simply prone to prolonged cold spells, which would eventually culminate in a normal fever.

But to react so strongly to a mere drizzle last night? That seemed absurdly weak.

Anxious to conceal her condition from Chi Nian, Zhang Yuning retreated to the study, where she had nothing else to occupy herself with.

She stared blankly at the pile of moon lamp fragments, suddenly recalling that she might have some glue at home. Might as well give it a try, she thought. Studying the crooked diagram on the packaging, she began sorting the fragments, meticulously handling them with tweezers.

High-viscosity glue left no room for error a single misstep would render the lamp beyond repair.

She adjusted the desk lamp to its brightest setting, put on her black-rimmed glasses, and pinned up her long hair with a pen before getting to work. The moon lamp fragments weren’t numerous—about twenty pieces of varying sizes. After sorting them, the task seemed manageable. Craftwork was Zhang Yuning’s forte no hands-on project could stump her.

However, Zhang Yuning felt increasingly cold. She draped a blanket over herself and checked the day’s temperature 18°C outdoors and 22°C indoors—that shouldn’t be the problem.

Her symptoms didn’t resemble a fever at all. Her nose felt slightly congested, but apart from the cold, she had no other discomfort.

The blanket offered little relief. Unable to work, Zhang Yuning curled up on the soft bay window cushion, closing her eyes and wondering if a nap might help. Whether from the cold or sheer exhaustion, she drifted off to sleep.

After a night free of bizarre dreams, they returned. Zhang Yuning heard someone calling her name again Xiao Zhang? Xiao Zhang?

Feeling her arm being tugged, Zhang Yuning shivered. Through half-closed eyes, she glimpsed Chi Nian. Chi Nian touched Zhang Yuning’s forehead, then her hand, before stepping away briefly to retrieve a thermometer.

Zhang Yuning had no idea how Chi Nian managed to find anything in her chaotic storage.

Here, let’s take your temperature, Chi Nian said, her voice as gentle as water. Zhang Yuning sat up weakly. There’s no need, she protested. I don’t have a fever. She felt no aching limbs, no headache, and no feverish heat—only a persistent chill.

But Chi Nian insisted. Just to be sure. She shook the mercury thermometer and tucked it under Zhang Yuning’s arm. Zhang Yuning reluctantly lifted her elbow to cooperate. The cold had drained her energy, leaving her too listless to resist.

Chi Nian brought over a pillow to prop her up and draped a thick blanket over her.

This is so dramatic, Zhang Yuning thought. It’s April, and I feel like I’m in the dead of winter.

Feeling warmer now? Chi Nian’s eyes were so tender they seemed on the verge of tears, her voice soft with concern. Zhang Yuning saw her own reflection in those worried eyes, her tenderness capable of melting even the most hardened hearts. What was once unbreakable, what had been as cold as ice—even if Zhang Yuning had frozen solid, she would have long since thawed.

Her lips were icy, her teeth chattering as she spoke. Afraid her voice would tremble, she could only nod.

The rain suddenly intensified, washing against the window in a torrential downpour, its roar punctuated by muffled thunder. Chi Nian squinted into the distance, a profound melancholy enveloping her. Even without a word, Zhang Yuning could sense the overwhelming sadness radiating from her.

Chi Nian’s gaze shifted to the moon lamp on the table, which she had been repairing. A hazy mist clouded her eyelids as she opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated, ultimately falling silent.

Zhang Yuning stared weakly at Chi Nian, studying her with an intensity she had never shown before. The mind of a sick person is a strange thing. Originally, she had felt a mix of repulsion, curiosity, and a deep sense that Chi Nian was unfathomable. But now, she could only recall Chi Nian’s kindness, her inexplicable concern, and those seemingly deliberate yet almost unconscious displays of affection.

At this moment, she lacked the strength to think clearly, as if she were on the verge of freezing to death, no amount of blankets able to warm her.

Realizing it was time to check her temperature, Zhang Yuning reached for the thermometer, but Chi Nian intercepted her. Chi Nian studied the reading, her expression grave, her brow furrowed.

Let me see, Zhang Yuning said, reaching for it. Chi Nian quickly shook the thermometer down and calmly stated, No fever.

Zhang Yuning sensed something odd about Chi Nian’s behavior. Though she had no energy to argue about her temperature, she loathed her current half-dead state.

Chi Nian glanced at her watch and asked, When did you start feeling cold?

Since I woke up.

Did you feel cold last night?

Zhang Yuning thought for a moment. Aside from a nosebleed and an unusual sense of discomfort, she hadn’t felt particularly cold. She shook her head. No.

As she spoke, Chi Nian’s expression grew more serious. She sat beside Zhang Yuning, opened her arms, and whispered, Hold me.

No need, Zhang Yuning refused without hesitation. This melodramatic act of seeking warmth through an embrace was unnecessary. She didn’t want to be pitied just because she felt unwell she’d endured enough scornful and pitying looks in her childhood.

She had once been like a tail-wagging, begging dog, desperately clinging to life, yearning for someone to throw her a single meal.

Her frail body dredged up dark memories. Zhang Yuning wrapped herself tighter, but Chi Nian pulled her into her arms. She wanted to resist, to refuse, but ultimately collapsed against that slender shoulder.

Don’t be afraid. Lean on me. It’ll be alright, Chi Nian murmured softly, her warm breath caressing Zhang Yuning’s ear. Finally, she felt warmth seeping into her.

Chi Nian pressed her forehead against Zhang Yuning’s, gently stroking her hair. A wave of warmth flooded Zhang Yuning’s heart, and she suddenly shed all her defenses. She curled up, burrowing deeper into Chi Nian’s embrace, showing weakness to another for the first time.