Unable to Fall in Love Syndrome - Chapter 24

Chapter 24 – Sunny Side Up Fairy Tale 03

Wenwen sat on the bed, her dark eyes blinking as she asked in a childish voice, “Mommy, why are you hugging my idol and crying? If you do that, I’ll get jealous and angry, you know.”

The little girl pretended to pout in anger, her two dark eyes widening round.

Guo Fei realized she’d lost her composure and let go of Jian Shizhang. She sat on the edge of the bed, patted her daughter’s head, and explained, “Mommy’s crying tears of joy. Just now, Mr. Jian promised to write a song especially for Wenwen. Aren’t you happy about that?”

This news was an enormous surprise for the little girl. She covered her mouth with her chubby little hands and looked at Jian Shizhang in disbelief. “Uncle Idol, are you really going to write a song for me?”

Jian Shizhang tried his best to stay calm and hummed in agreement. “Wenwen, right? Tell Uncle what kind of song you like to listen to?”

Wenwen pinched her chin, her eyes darting around thoughtfully. “Uncle Idol, I really like your ‘Shadow Play.’ The erhu sounds so nice. Could you write another song about shadow puppets? And it’d be best if I’m in it!”

Jian Shizhang asked her, “Does Wenwen like shadow puppets a lot?”

The little girl nodded emphatically. “Yes, I do.”

He asked, “Then, how about if Uncle takes you to see a show sometime?”

The little girl glanced timidly at Guo Fei and asked cautiously, “Mommy, can I?”

Guo Fei wanted to say something but suddenly turned away, looking up at the ceiling to force back her tears. “Get better first.”

Wenwen replied, “Okay, got it. I’ll be good and take my medicine! I won’t be like that boy next door who refuses to cooperate. Kids who don’t take their medicine aren’t good kids, and they’ll suffer for it. Right, everyone?”

The little girl looked innocently at the room full of adults.

Qiao Shan, Zuo Yi, and Xiao Jia didn’t know exactly what the doctor had said, but seeing the reactions, they guessed the situation wasn’t optimistic. Xiao Jia felt the heaviest burden; these days, Wenwen’s fever kept recurring without improvement. Thinking back to Guo Fei’s earlier reaction, his heart sank. Seeing no one speaking, he broke the silence. “Yes, Wenwen’s the best-behaved.”

Wenwen asked tentatively, “Since I’m so good, can I have a sunny-side-up egg for dinner?” She stuck out her little tongue and licked her lips, making a slurping sound. “It’s been so long since I had one…”

In the hospital room, aside from Wenwen, the adults all felt deeply oppressed.

Qiao Shan tugged at Zuo Yi’s sleeve, signaling him to go out with her. In the hallway, the doctor had just come out of the next room. Qiao Shan hurried over and called out, “Wait, Doctor, wait!”

The male doctor stopped and looked at Qiao Shan and Zuo Yi. “What’s the matter?”

Qiao Shan took a deep breath and said, “Doctor, what’s really wrong with Wenwen?”

The doctor sighed. “Leukemia. The fever’s caused by an oral infection. The situation isn’t looking good. You should prepare yourselves mentally.”

“Will… will she die?” Qiao Shan felt like she’d been electrocuted, her limbs going numb, her lips tingling.

The doctor replied, “Not necessarily. Even if a bone marrow transplant succeeds, it doesn’t guarantee she’ll be fine. Kids have a high relapse rate, and most don’t make it. The parents seem young; as friends, comfort them. They can have another child.”

They say birth, aging, sickness, and death are fate, but Wenwen was still just a child, not even grown up, facing death already. She hadn’t even enjoyed a father’s love before leaving. It was so cruel for her.

Qiao Shan didn’t go back to the room and left the hospital with Zuo Yi. By the time they got out, it was getting late; the sun had set, dusk was falling, and the streetlights flickered on almost instantly.

She walked slowly down the street, with Zuo Yi not walking beside her but following behind, his gaze fixed on her lowered head. After who knows how long, Qiao Shan finally stopped, still staring at the ground.

Zuo Yi walked over, pressed his palm on her head, and said, “There’s a street food stall over there. Let’s go sit.”

Qiao Shan looked up, eyeing him curiously. “You’d eat at a place like that?”

Zuo Yi didn’t deny it and asked softly, “Want some crayfish?”

Her stomach, empty all day, finally growled. She glanced at her flat belly, rubbed it, and said, “I’m hungry. Yeah, I want some. Your treat?”

Zuo Yi casually hooked an arm around her, keeping it in that position as if embracing her, though his arm wasn’t actually touching her. When they reached the stall, he withdrew his hand, shoved it into his pocket, and found an empty seat.

Qiao Shan sat across from him, listless. “Sometimes I feel like fate is so unfair. Wenwen’s such a good kid; how could she get a disease like that?”

Zuo Yi pulled out a tissue, wiped a pair of chopsticks clean, and handed them to her. “We can’t change the outcome, so fill your stomach first, okay?”

“Oh…” Qiao Shan took the chopsticks and mimicked him by rinsing her bowl with tea.

When the spicy crayfish arrived, Qiao Shan put on plastic gloves and eagerly picked two into her bowl—one to cool, one to peel right away. She was so hungry she tossed an unpeeled one into her mouth, chewing shell and all before spitting it out.

Zuo Yi asked calmly, “You don’t know how to peel crayfish?”

Qiao Shan replied, “This crayfish has so much shell; how is it easy to peel?”

Zuo Yi glanced at her, then placed the peeled crayfish meat from his own hand into her bowl. Qiao Shan ate it quickly and lifted her chin, staring at him expectantly like a dog begging its owner. “Stingy Zuo, one more.”

“As a human, your limbs could use some evolution.” The thin plastic gloves didn’t hinder his nimble fingers at all. He peeled the crayfish quickly, ruthlessly, and accurately, toying with the spicy ones between his long fingers, stripping the shells, extracting the white meat soaked in numbing spicy sauce, and generously placing it in the small bowl in front of Qiao Shan.

Out of a hundred crayfish, eighty ended up in Qiao Shan’s mouth.

Qiao Shan was in a bad mood, her chest tight. She got up, grabbed two bottles of ice-cold beer from the cooler, and said, “Tonight, we drink till we drop.”

Zuo Yi leaned back in his chair, looking at her calmly. “With your tolerance, you’re drinking? Got water in your brain?”

Qiao Shan held up a bottle, one leg on the stool, striking a bold pose. “No,” she poked her chest, “it’s just that my heart hurts. I want to drink. Like the ancients said, ‘What can relieve my worries? Only wine!'”

With that, she shoved the bottle neck into her mouth, trying to pry off the cap with her teeth. But she used too much force—not only did the cap not budge, her gums started throbbing. She covered her mouth, wailing in pain, glaring at the cursed bottle, wanting to curse but unable to, her eyes welling up with tears.

Zuo Yi took the beer and noticed a small tooth mark on the raised edge of the cap—kind of cute. He couldn’t help but chuckle, then pulled an opener from behind the tissue box and waved it in front of her. “See this? Want to drink but don’t have the smarts?”

He hooked the opener on the bottle and with a light push, popped it open with a crisp sound.

He placed the bottle back in front of her and warned, “Don’t drink too much.”

Qiao Shan’s throat was dry, and seeing the bubbling beer, she thought it looked thirst-quenching. She poured two glasses—one for Zuo Yi, one for herself. “Neither of us can hold our liquor, so just a little. Come on, bottoms up—down with our troubles!”

Zuo Yi didn’t touch his glass, watching this woman who’d said she’d only have one but was now chugging one after another. Soon, the two bottles were empty, and she grabbed two more bottles of baijiu and polished them off.

Finally, Qiao Shan’s face flushed red, and she slammed her head onto the table, rattling the bowls, chopsticks, and bottles.

She lay there quietly for a few seconds, then pillowed her face on her arms and looked at Zuo Yi. “I… I always thought terminal illnesses and death were so far away from me, but I never imagined something like this would hit so close. It’s heartless, invading a little kid like that. It’s just too unfair, too unfair…”

Qiao Shan hammered her fist on the table, making a banging sound.

People at nearby tables glanced over. Zuo Yi went to her, scooped her up, and said, “You’re drunk. Let’s go home.”

Qiao Shan wriggled in his arms like a worm, whining in a coquettish tone, “I’m not drunk, I’m not drunk…”

“Okay, okay, you’re not drunk.” As soon as he said that, she slumped like a rock, crashing heavily into his chest.

He glanced around helplessly, and with the waiter’s help, hoisted her onto his back. He hadn’t driven, so he had to hail a cab at the intersection ahead. He’d only walked the distance of two streetlights with Qiao Shan on his back when the skies opened up and it started raining.

The rain pattered down, growing heavier, soaking them both.

Zuo Yi quickened his pace, carrying her to the roadside to flag a cab. Soon, they were drenched. Qiao Shan on his back slept soundly, oblivious to the weather. Zuo Yi had to hand it to her—was she a pig?

Just then, a girl passed by and pulled out an extra umbrella, opening it and holding it over Zuo Yi to shield him from the rain.

Zuo Yi looked at the girl and thanked her. “Thanks. Could you trouble yourself to cover the person on my back with the umbrella? Don’t worry about me.”

Handsome guys always had charm; whatever they said went. The girl shifted the umbrella back to cover Qiao Shan. She asked, “Handsome, is this your girlfriend or your sister?”

The girl clutched her phone, the screen still lit on WeChat, ready to add him.

He cleared his throat and lied, “Girlfriend.”

The girl glanced at Qiao Shan, who was drooling on Zuo Yi’s shoulder in deep sleep, and looked disappointed. “Oh… Well, I’ll be a good Samaritan and stay until the cab comes. I’ll hold the umbrella for you.”

Zuo Yi said, “Thanks.”

The girl smiled with pursed lips and asked, “Handsome, can I add you on WeChat? Don’t worry, I don’t have any ulterior motives.”

Zuo Yi replied, “WeChat’s pretty personal. My girlfriend wouldn’t like me adding random people. How about you give me your email, and I’ll have my assistant contact you later to thank you properly.”

The girl felt awkward and waved her hands. “No need, no need. Forget it then.”

The rain poured harder. The girl held her own umbrella and one for Qiao Shan, her arms starting to ache. After waiting a bit with no cab in sight, she grew impatient. She turned to look at Zuo Yi; the man was soaked through, rain streaming down his tousled hair in rivulets.

The girl on his back was well-protected by the umbrella, sleeping sweetly.

Finally, a cab arrived.

Zuo Yi stuffed Qiao Shan into the car, turned back to thank the girl. “Thanks for tonight.”

The girl smiled. “No problem, no problem. Get in quick. Bye, handsome.”

As she watched the cab drive away, the girl sighed. There’s a kind of boyfriend that’s always someone else’s.

The cab could only drop them at the neighborhood entrance. He carried the deadweight Qiao Shan out. Rain splashed on her face and into her mouth; she smacked her lips occasionally and mumbled, “Tasty! One more!”

With such poor tolerance, and she still tries to drown her sorrows in booze? Asking for trouble.

At the gate, the security guard came over with a large umbrella to shield them. Passing the guard room, Zuo Yi asked, “Is Miss Li here?”

The male guard said, “She’s off today, on a date with her boyfriend. What’s up? Oh… isn’t that Miss Qiao? How’d she get this drunk? Quick, quick, don’t talk—I’ll hold the umbrella and escort you to the building. Get Miss Qiao home and changed so she doesn’t catch a cold.”

Zuo Yi nodded and, under the guard’s protection, entered the elevator.

As soon as they reached the floor, they heard barking—probably hungry, scratching at the door and howling at the footsteps. He carried Qiao Shan back to his place, set her on the sofa, grabbed a clean bath towel, wrapped it around her head, and dried her hair.

He was wetter than she was, water dripping from his short hair onto Qiao Shan’s face.

He adjusted the room temperature, stripped off his shirt, changed into dry athletic shorts, and came out looking at the soaked Qiao Shan on the sofa, unsure how to proceed.

The female guard was off, so no one to help. Leaving her to sleep wet like that was out of the question.

He sighed, squatted down, closed his eyes, and peeled off her T-shirt, then groped to wrap her in a blanket before tugging off her pants. The whole process relied on imagination, and in the end, Qiao Shan was bundled up like a zongzi.

He carried the zongzi-like Qiao to the bedroom bed, placed a pillow under her head, spread out her wet hair, and used his fingers to section it, slowly blow-drying it with the hair dryer.

This time, Qiao Shan was well-behaved, not hugging him and vomiting or causing a scene like last time.

Her hair slipped through his fingers strand by strand; he worried the heat might bother her scalp, so his palm blocked most of the hot air.

It was a bit scalding, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

After drying her hair, there seemed nothing left to do, yet he wanted to do more for her. He just watched her quietly like that.

He found a wooden comb, sat cross-legged on the floor, let her hair drape down, and combed it inch by inch.

The comb teeth gently massaged her scalp acupoints, the pressure just right, making the sleeping person very comfortable. Qiao Shan, on the verge of a nightmare, suddenly slipped into deep, dreamless sleep.

After combing her hair smooth, Zuo Yi grew bored again.

What to do? What else could he do for her?

Hmm… braid a little plait, maybe.

Zuo Yi’s hands were skillful, as if he could master anything. Before he knew it, he’d braided her hair into an eight-strand braid.

After finishing the braid, he got up and sat on the edge of the bed, then, as if possessed, leaned down, stopping a fist’s distance away, just gazing at her. He held out his palm to compare and was surprised to find it could cover her entire face.

Women are so petite, like a doll.

It was as if countless invisible threads pulled at him from her body, drawing him uncontrollably lower and lower… until his nose tip gently touched hers, his lips lightly brushing against hers.

Both nose and lips felt a cool touch, which soon warmed like jade.

Qiao Shan’s throat moved; she stuck out her tongue and licked her lips, her soft tongue grazing his, sending a jolt through his heart—a shock he’d never felt before.

He tried to calm himself, but his body heated up, desire unstoppable.

Mimicking her, he extended his tongue and licked her lips. This woman… she’d eaten spicy crayfish that night, yet her lips tasted faintly sweet.

Hmm… delicious.

So he licked again and again, then tried to pry open her lips and teeth.

Qiao Shan seemed cooperative, her mouth opening, allowing his tongue to slip in.

Then, without warning, Qiao Shan’s lips and teeth clamped shut…

Zuo Yi let out a muffled groan, frowned, and withdrew his tongue, his mouth filled with a bloody sweetness. Unable to hold back, he flipped the zongzi-like Qiao over and smacked her butt.