Chapter 52
After leaving the izakaya, they headed straight to the hotel. Shi Yu had drunk some sake, and now his face was remarkably red.
Jiang Shangwan gently stroked his cheek. Since the breakup she initiated last year, they hadn’t been close like before. Shi Yu seemed to hold back due to their difference in status, afraid to take further steps, worried she might be displeased. He would only cautiously kiss her cheek or hold her hand.
He pressed her fingertip gently, his voice hoarse: “Wanwan, have you forgiven me?”
Jiang Shangwan sighed lightly. “I never blamed you.”
That night, on New Year’s Eve, too many things had happened one after another. First, he had gotten into a fight with Fang Liangchen. Then, her second uncle called to remind her that while dating was fine, she had to consider reality and future plans.
At that time, she still felt uncertainty and fear about the unfamiliar sides of Shi Yu. She hadn’t thought about future marriage plans at all. In a moment of impulse, she brought up the breakup.
Then came Shi Yu’s collapse, his deafness, and loss of speech. Yet, despite such drastic changes, he never hurt her. He didn’t even show any resentment toward her. Instead, he tried to comfort her.
What could she question about him?
Jiang Shangwan wanted to take a gamble. She believed he wouldn’t hurt her.
Shi Yu buried his face in her neck. He really liked burying himself in the nape of her neck or resting his chin on her soft hair. He hesitated before speaking: “You really don’t blame me for hitting that guy?”
“You’ve always protected him.” Shi Yu’s voice was low, almost accusatory, yet tinged with sadness.
Jiang Shangwan gently stroked the back of his head and sighed. “I’m sorry. That night, bringing up the breakup was an impulsive decision I made, but it definitely wasn’t because you hit Fang Liangchen. I broke up with him many years ago, and our relationship was very brief. There was hardly any emotion involved, it’s nothing like what I have with you. It was the way you fought him—so fierce. If I hadn’t stopped you, you might have almost killed him. That scared me subconsciously. You’ve always been gentle with me, almost never showing that side of you.”
“Later, my second uncle called and said some things about reality. I was under a lot of pressure and acted impulsively, bringing up the breakup.” Jiang Shangwan’s tone was complicated. “But I never imagined it would hurt you this much. I’m really sorry. Shi Yu, I don’t know what the future holds for us, but when I saw you kneeling on the ground, unresponsive no matter how I called you, I realized how important you are to me.”
They leaned against each other’s bodies. Jiang Shangwan spoke again: “I watched you kneel there all night, unresponsive no matter how I called you. I really broke down then. That’s when I realized you couldn’t hear me. At that moment, I felt like I wanted to die. You’re so good, and I hurt you so easily.”
“That’s not it, Wanwan.” Shi Yu kissed the blue veins on her neck. “It’s all my fault, I made you angry. My health is bad, that’s my problem, don’t blame yourself.”
Her eyes began to feel sore again, and Jiang Shangwan almost cried. Over the past year, she had shed nearly all of her tears. She had only felt such devastation twice in her life—the first time when she heard the news of her parents’ car accident, and the second time when she witnessed Shi Yu lose his hearing.
It was hard to express how her heart felt as if it were being pulled apart, how she felt suffocated, her chest constricting, making it hard to breathe. All she could hear in her mind was a buzzing sound, and she would only cry silently. She didn’t want to experience a third time like this.
“Stay by my side,” Jiang Shangwan said. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I know that right now, I really need you.”
“Okay.” Shi Yu gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. “I will always, forever, love Wanwan.”
“You’re the universe’s most invincible big fool.” Jiang Shangwan pinched the muscles at his waist, noticing that after a year of barely moving, his muscles had softened. “Where did my ‘mermaid line’ go? Why does it feel like it’s gone?”
“I’ll work out when we get back.” Shi Yu’s eyes were bright, and he kissed the tip of her ear, then her earlobe. His soft kisses scattered across her skin, sending waves of shivers through her.
The familiar wetness returned, and Jiang Shangwan squeezed her legs together. After a year without intimacy, her body was especially sensitive, reacting with even the slightest touch, leaving more wet traces behind.
Shi Yu removed his top, revealing his waist and abdomen. His physique was still impressive, despite the year of not exercising and often sleeping. He hadn’t lost his tone, and his muscles were still firm, though not as prominent as before.
Jiang Shangwan grabbed the soft flesh at his waist, squeezing it again and again. “Too soft. You need to get hard again, quickly.”
“Okay.” He bent down and kissed her soft lips, swallowing the other sounds she hadn’t yet voiced. His kisses became delicate and fragmented, his tone softer, and his breath became more hurried.
…
After spending three enjoyable days in Osaka, they decided their next stop would be Kyoto. They headed to Kiyomizu-dera (Kiyomizu-dera (清水寺) is a famous Buddhist temple located in Kyoto, Japan. It is one of Kyoto’s most celebrated temples and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The name “Kiyomizu” (清水) means “pure water,” and the temple takes its name from the Otowa Waterfall, which runs through the temple grounds.) early, but it was already packed with people. Neither Jiang Shangwan nor Shi Yu wanted to fight through the crowd, so they each randomly drew a fortune slip.
Jiang Shangwan opened her palm and looked at her fortune—”Prosperous family business, success in the imperial capital, riding the wind in the clouds, and receiving the support of noble people.”
It was said that it was extremely easy to draw a bad fortune at Kiyomizu-dera, but she happened to draw a great blessing with just one casual pick.
She opened Shi Yu’s palm again and looked at the fortune—“Acts of different nature lead to trouble, in times of danger the situation worsens. The good lady suffers bitterness and resentment, idle thoughts weigh her down with worry.”
It was a very bad omen.
Jiang Shangwan immediately darkened her face, and frantically bought a bunch of protective charms, then said, “This is inaccurate. We’re foreigners, their shrine doesn’t work for us.”
She spoke as she led Shi Yu back to draw again, continuing until she finally drew a great fortune, at which point she sighed in relief.
Shi Yu wasn’t interested in the fortune at all, his eyes were fixed on Jiang Shangwan’s every move. He thought she was so cute, reaching out to gently pat her head.
So the next day, to avoid the overwhelming and exaggerated crowds, they left much later. They walked along the long avenue, heading forward. There were so many white people in Kyoto, more than she had imagined, and their Asian faces seemed to stand out in the crowd, feeling somewhat out of place.
Shi Yu tightly held Jiang Shangwan’s hand, trying to shield her from the looks and gazes directed her way.
The setting sun hung low in the sky, casting dim, orange-red light across the horizon, bathing the courtyard plants in its warm glow. The slanted sunlight enveloped the quiet Silver Pavilion in the distance, adding to its peacefulness, creating a unique and hazy beauty.
They climbed up the slope, struggling to reach the entrance, only to find the gate tightly shut. They had missed the temple’s opening hours, and the sign read “Closed” after 5 PM.
Jiang Shangwan glanced at her watch—it was just after 5:01 PM.
“What kind of luck is this?”
“It’s okay, let’s go somewhere else and take a look.”
Jiang Shangwan followed the crowd, and soon they saw a signpost reading “Philosopher’s Path.”
It was a narrow alley winding around a flowing stream. Cherry blossom petals, fallen by the gentle breeze, drifted away with the water. Little ducks with grayish-black feathers were swimming playfully in the stream.
“How cute.” Jiang Shangwan pointed at the ducklings for Shi Yu to see.
“No, Wanwan is cute,” he said.
They continued walking along the Philosopher’s Path, and after circling around, they began their descent from the mountain. After walking for a while, Jiang Shangwan felt some soreness in her legs, so Shi Yu carried her on his back.
His movements were steady, firmly holding her legs as he made his way down the mountain, step by step.
Jiang Shangwan rested her body against his back, watching the small section of his long neck that was exposed, and wrapped her arms around him. She whispered in his ear, “Do you like Kyoto or Osaka more?”
“Osaka,” Shi Yu replied. “Kyoto feels like it’s full of traditional Japanese architecture, but it’s not as unique as our country. Osaka has more character.”
Jiang Shangwan laughed softly. “I agree, I prefer the gardens in Suzhou more.”
After leaving Kyoto, they took the Shinkansen to Tokyo, where they visited Shibuya for a view of the entire Tokyo skyline, shopped non-stop in Ginza, and finally made their way to Mount Fuji. Jiang Shangwan had been to Japan many times, but it was Shi Yu’s first time. His impression of Mount Fuji was still stuck on that lyric—“Who can claim Mount Fuji as their own with just love?”
When the silvery-white snow-capped mountain came into view, Shi Yu’s impression of it became more concrete. The sky was a deep blue, the snow a pure white, standing tall beneath the vast, endless blue sky, surrounded by crystal-clear lakes.
He called her name softly: “Wanwan.”
Shi Yu held her close, lowered his gaze, and gently kissed her lips. He didn’t rush into the kiss or try to take control, he just tenderly caressed her lips, gently licking them.
It was a long, soft kiss, and in front of Mount Fuji, they embraced and kissed. Jiang Shangwan reached up and held the hair at the back of his neck, deepening the kiss, letting her tongue tease his lips, exchanging saliva and air with him.
When the kiss ended, their lips reluctantly parted, and Jiang Shangwan lay gently in his arms, breathing softly.
“I’m so happy,” Jiang Shangwan said. “To see you getting better, to be able to hold you and feel your warmth, I’m so happy.”
The sensations in her body couldn’t lie to her, her soul, her body were both screaming to be close to Shi Yu, to merge with him. The happiness in the present moment was real—sunlight, air, and warmth—they were all genuine and comforting.
Shi Yu’s Adam’s apple gently rolled in his throat, as if unable to resist, he lowered his head again and kissed her slightly damp, soft red lips.
…
After returning from Japan, Jiang Shangwan immediately arranged a detailed medical check-up for Shi Yu. Since his condition started improving, his recovery had been getting faster and faster. At first, he only regained a little hearing, but after a month, it was almost back to normal.
“This is truly a miracle.”
Even the doctors marveled at how quickly his recovery was progressing, as if he had caught up with the progress he had lost over the past year. His ability to speak was gradually returning, starting with a slightly hoarse voice, slow speech, and interruptions. Over time, it became clearer and more normal.
A few months later, he was no different from an ordinary person. But Jiang Shangwan was still a little anxious, worried about his emotional fluctuations. She didn’t dare to push him too hard, afraid that his fragile nervous system would be harmed again, undoing all the hard work he’d put into his recovery.
“You absolutely can’t let your emotions get that extreme again, do you understand?” Jiang Shangwan held his long hands, his joints still as clean and beautiful as ever. After returning home, he had started exercising again. “You can’t get sick again. If I have to see you hurt once more, I’ll really go crazy.”
“Okay,” he nodded softly. “I will exercise properly and make my body stronger.”
“The main thing is you can’t get angry, and you can’t be unhappy, okay?” Jiang Shangwan gently touched his cheek. “You need to take care of yourself, and stay with me, always, always.”