Suddenly, Nan Zhi felt her body regain some strength, and a bit of anticipation rose within her — wanting to go back and see whether what awaited her was an accident or a pleasant surprise.
If it were before yesterday’s interaction, what she would’ve worried about would probably have been that the other person had contacted someone, taken her money and appliances, and run off. But after spending the whole day together yesterday, she felt that what awaited her was probably some kind of surprise.
To her, if the other party obediently stayed put, didn’t cause trouble, didn’t mess around, and just like yesterday — acted like a little wife in front of her, with lowered brows and obedient demeanor, doing whatever she told him to — then that was already a surprise.
Her mood immediately improved.
It felt like… she had married a little wife.
No wonder men always want to marry wives — turns out, it really did feel kind of nice.
The other party even paid attention to her actions, boiled water for her and such.
Rounded up, that basically meant caring for her.
Having someone thinking about her — it was already much better than before.
Nan Zhi became even more eager to return. Once the traffic light turned green, she immediately parked in the underground parking lot, took the elevator directly up, didn’t even pick up her delivery. After walking through a long hallway, she soon reached the door of her home.
Standing at the door, just like usual, she hesitated a little — but soon pressed her fingerprint.
With a click, the door opened.
It was an open-concept space. Nan Zhi pulled open the door, and for the first time, what greeted her was not a pitch-black room with drafts blowing through, but a bright space.
She changed into slippers as she entered, and while doing so, glanced around casually — quickly noticing something off. Because everything was from a sitting height, the visual perspective was lower — and with one glance, she saw that the pile of delivery boxes peeking out from behind the curtain under the stairs was gone.
Nan Zhi couldn’t help but suspect for a moment — had she misjudged things? Had the person really taken her stuff and run off?
But very soon, at her entryway cabinet, she saw one of the unpacked items from yesterday’s deliveries — a decorative piece for hanging keys and holding small items: a beckoning fortune cat.
It came with a small shelf and a dish. He must have recognized what it was and helped her put it in place.
Nan Zhi subconsciously sped up, her slippered feet going da-da as she ran toward the small living room — to look for her “little wife.”
She didn’t find the “little wife,” but instead unexpectedly saw that next to the water dispenser, there was now a waist-high flower pot.
It was one of the items from yesterday’s delivery pile — bought to absorb formaldehyde. Although she had already hired professionals to deal with it, she had been scared after seeing a Douyin saying that even years later, homes could still have lingering formaldehyde. So she had panic-bought a few small pots overnight.
Nan Zhi went over to lift it — very heavy. She had unpacked one herself previously. Inside, it was tightly sealed with tape. She found it troublesome and had just kicked it into the farthest corner.
He was an injured person — he must’ve spent quite a bit of effort to move it here.
Nan Zhi took a look — the soil in the pot was moist. He had even watered it for her.
Nan Zhi continued walking inward and saw that many things she had bought out of fleeting excitement, then left aside untouched, had all been taken out from their dusty delivery boxes and placed exactly where they should go.
That small rug she found troublesome to move the table for, and hadn’t laid properly — was now neatly spread out.
Even those appliances she had been too lazy to deal with were now put where they belonged. Not only that — the entire apartment seemed to have been tidied up — much cleaner and more organized.
Nan Zhi stood there with her mouth wide open, stunned in the living room for quite a while before she remembered—
Her clothes.
Nan Zhi hurried toward the balcony. The balcony and laundry room were connected to the living room.
Nan Zhi moved fast, and within moments arrived. She crouched down and looked — the washing machine was in use, washing the clothes she had casually taken off and tossed onto the living room sofa.
—
After work each day, she was already very tired, with absolutely no energy to fuss over whether she had laundry or not. She preferred piling up her clothes into a heap, then washing them all together at once.
And she had only just piled up half — and the other person already couldn’t stand it and helped her wash them?
She saw a corner of her underwear flash past the semi-transparent window.
Nan Zhi: “……”
There really was no need to be this diligent.
Speaking of which, since the wash was already running… then the ones before…
She looked up and saw that the automatic clothes-drying rack above had a few pieces of clothing hanging on it — the ones she had washed previously.
The drying rack was fully automatic, able to go up and down. So even though it was placed high, he had still managed to hang the clothes.
Nan Zhi blinked, surprised by his industriousness.
This wasn’t a surprise. This was a very, very big surprise.
She really hadn’t expected the other person to do much — after all, he was injured. Just resting well and being obedient was enough.
She had heard he could cook and thought that once he recovered, she’d let him handle two meals a day — lunch and dinner — and then calculate wages for him afterward.
As for breakfast, she herself could barely get up in the morning, so naturally she wouldn’t ask others either. She hadn’t even mentioned it yet, and he hadn’t even fully recovered — and he was already voluntarily starting to take over the housework.
And doing it so well.
She had spent the entire afternoon worrying about the laundry, thinking that if it got musty and stinky, it would take ages to wash the smell out.
She couldn’t contact him, but he took the initiative himself.
He really was… Nan Zhi felt like she had picked up a treasure.
She stood up. Originally, she wanted to see where he’d gone. Suddenly she smelled the aroma of food wafting from the crack of the kitchen door. She went in and saw the oven light was on — both the upper and lower racks were filled with pieces of toast.
Even the blackened wall inside from before had been wiped clean.
Nan Zhi: shocked.
This oven was something she had bought back then because she wanted to live a better life. She had thought — Grandma probably didn’t want to see her living in a constant slump, so she had resolved to cook for herself and try to live a life filled with the warmth of smoke and fire.
But the first time she used the oven, full of excitement, she had waited for delicious food to come out — only to go to the bathroom for a moment and come back to find smoke pouring from the toast, blackening not only the inner walls but also the oven’s glass door.
It had burned away all her expectations and courage.
She had never touched that oven again.
Nan Zhi crouched down and looked at the still-soft toast inside. It was as if even the warm light from the glass reflected a bit of warmth in her eyes.
Her expression softened a lot, and even her fatigue seemed to have disappeared.
She got up and saw that beside the oven, on the side table, there was a cutting board, pre-sliced tomatoes, freshly washed lettuce, and several pieces of roasted and pan-fried meat and eggs.
Nan Zhi’s expression wavered slightly, as if she had been transported back to the time she lived with Grandma in the countryside. Back then, every time she returned home, Grandma was basically always cooking — having timed it to match when she got off work or school, finishing the food just in time for her to eat.
Sometimes, if she came home a little faster and caught Grandma mid-cooking, and her stomach was hungry and couldn’t wait, she’d sneak a bite out of a bowl. Occasionally Grandma would use the excuse of letting her “taste the flavor first” and tell her to take the first bite.
Nan Zhi looked at the meat slices in the bowl and didn’t hold back. She picked up a piece, popped it in her mouth, and continued looking for Song Qing.
She wandered around the first floor for a bit. While passing the neatly placed tissue box, she even pulled one out to wipe her hands — finally, she found him in the bathroom.
Song Qing was putting on a garbage bag, his movements slow and prolonged, deliberately dragging out time, not willing to leave the bathroom.
Because the moment Nan Zhi came in, he had already heard the sound. He had been busy all day today, making many changes to her home, and he was somewhat worried that taking the initiative might anger her.
He still remembered that time when Auntie bought vegetables intending to make red-braised dishes, but forgot to tell him. He made them into soup and got scolded.
Nan Zhi hadn’t given any instructions before she left. He had done all this on his own initiative, so he felt uneasy.
When he realized she had entered, he had even pushed the bathroom door completely shut — the one that bounced back from the curtain’s pressure — and kept dragging out putting on the trash bag.
He stuffed the trash bag in, pulled it out again, blew air into it, then stuffed it in again. It didn’t feel full enough, so he pulled it out again, kept blowing air. Only after the garbage bag was fully expanded did he go to stuff it into the bin.
While halfway through doing that, he heard the sound of someone pulling open the door behind him, and a shadow fell over him.
Song Qing’s whole body stiffened.
He didn’t turn around, and instead doubled down on trying to fit the trash bag.
Behind him, Nan Zhi was standing right at the bathroom door, looking around the room.
She rarely did any housework, so the bathroom had always been a mess. The various cleaning tools she had previously left randomly piled in the corner were now all neatly hung on tiled wall hooks — hooks she had bought for sticking on tiles.
Boxes upon boxes of tissue paper had also been stored into the cabinet beside the toilet.
On the sink counter, shampoo, body wash, conditioner, and such were all lined up in order.
Nan Zhi looked around, surprised as she went. “You’re way too amazing.”
Her eyes sparkled. “So capable!”
Song Qing hadn’t expected her to react like that. He froze for a moment, and only after a while did he turn back to look at her.
She didn’t look angry like he had imagined. On the contrary, she was smiling, her eyes nearly squinting into crescents, pupils bright with surprise, looking at him as if looking at a treasure — all the guilt and anxiety in his heart faded away, and he blankly asked:
“Really?”
“Of course!” she replied almost without thinking, her tone firm and resolute, and she praised him again and again, “So amazing, and you even cook!”
Song Qing blinked in confusion and looked at her, not fully understanding.
This kind of work — he used to do it every day. It was just that no one had ever said anything nice to him about it. His aunt even thought he was lazy, lacking awareness. Didn’t know to pour water when she got home, didn’t know to bring her food.
She worked hard from morning till night, and when she came back, there wasn’t even anyone to boil foot-washing water for her, etc.
Now he had only cleaned the first floor of her home, tidied things up a bit — and she was already this happy?
Song Qing didn’t know how to respond. He just silently continued working on the trash bag. He was sitting on a chair — the trash bin was very low, which made it awkward to handle. He had tried twice but still hadn’t fit the bag properly. Just as he was about to bend forward again, Nan Zhi stopped him: “Let me.”
As the words landed, she was already walking toward him.
Song Qing had been working all day and was worried that he might smell of sweat. On instinct, he backed away a little, but she didn’t seem to mind at all. In the blink of an eye, she had squeezed into the narrow space between him and the trash bin, leaving no room for objections.
She rolled up her sleeves, snatched the task from his hands, squatted down, pressed the trash bag all the way into the bin, opened it up, and finally secured it with the ring.
During the process, she bumped into him several times. Even though he kept backing away, her arms and body still brushed against him repeatedly.
He nearly saw it happen with his own eyes — her light yellow, clean trench coat rubbed directly against his clothes. After she was done, she even nudged him with her elbow.
How could she not mind this at all?
Song Qing quickly averted his gaze, looking toward the kitchen — thinking of the food still in the oven. He pushed himself up, trying to jump from the chair near the toilet to the wheelchair closer to the doorway.
His wheelchair was originally by the doorway. When he jumped into it, he saved a bit of effort, but didn’t lock the brake. The heavy curtain was pressing on the door, and the door pushed his wheelchair back into the bathroom.
The bathroom wasn’t small. He pulled the wheelchair over and was just about to sit on it when a shadow fell over him. The next moment, he felt his body lighten — someone picked him up, holding his butt, and sat him into the wheelchair.
Song Qing: “……”
He comforted himself: Once you get used to it, it’s not so bad. He’d already been carried so many times — one more wouldn’t make a difference.
Song Qing gripped the handles of the wheelchair tightly. The other person pushed him toward the door. But the bathroom had a threshold — she tried several times and couldn’t get the wheelchair up.
When she pushed him in earlier, the chair had been empty, so it had passed through easily. But going out with his body weight pressing down, she couldn’t lift the wheelchair over the threshold. It seemed this wheelchair had an anti-tilt function — the front was heavier than the back.
After trying a few more times with no success, Song Qing felt a gaze fall upon him, firmly locking onto him.
Song Qing: “……”
He had a bad feeling — sure enough, in the next second, the wheelchair was pulled back, and he was tightly held again, directly carried from the bathroom to the living room sofa.
The sofa was new too, and covered with a fluffy couch pad. He had half a mind to struggle, to tell her to just put him on the floor, but before he had the chance, she had already placed him onto the sofa.
Maybe he was too heavy — she truly couldn’t hold him well. When she put him down, because of inertia, she pressed down on him a bit.
A solid press — he almost felt her head brushing past the crook of his neck as she left, her hair even brushing his ear in a light, fleeting touch.