For The Rest Of Our Life – Chapter 15
by Little PandaThen I’m Not Afraid Either.
The girl in her arms seemed to have finally composed herself. The hands wrapped around Xiao Wanqing gradually loosened, and instead she lowered her head, grasping Xiao Wanqing’s hands and carefully examining whether she had been hurt in the fall.
Xiao Wanqing understood her concern and softened her voice to comfort her: “I’m fine. I took a tumble just now, but I wasn’t hurt. Don’t worry.” As she spoke, she even showed Lin Xian her uninjured palms and elbows, moving her legs freely to demonstrate she was unharmed. With her movements, her clothes went splish-splash1, flinging water all over the floor.
Lin Xian finally felt a little reassured. She turned away, lowering her head and refusing to look at Xiao Wanqing anymore. After roughly wiping her face a few times with the back of her hand, she urged Xiao Wanqing in a voice still carrying traces of a post-cry nasal tone: “Then hurry up and go change.” Her voice was low and muffled.
Xiao Wanqing guessed that Lin Xian was probably a bit embarrassed about losing her composure from crying just now. The little girl was thin-skinned; she could well understand, so she didn’t call her out on it. She reached out and lovingly patted Lin Xian’s little head, agreeing in a gentle voice: “Alright, but wait for me a moment first.” After speaking, she picked up the bag in her hand and headed toward the kitchen.
A light force tugged at her hand—Lin Xian had reached out and grabbed her wrist. Lin Xian asked in a lowered voice: “Where are you going?” The direction Xiao Wanqing was heading was clearly not toward the bathroom.
Xiao Wanqing stopped, turned around, curved her eyes and brows, and said gently: “We finished the bottled water yesterday and there’s no spare at home. I’ll go to the kitchen and boil some water for you to take your medicine.”
Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Lin Xian’s grip on her wrist tightened even further. She frowned, looking thoroughly displeased, and blurted out a forceful command: “You’re not going!”
Xiao Wanqing was startled by this resolute shout, staring blankly at Lin Xian, somewhat taken aback.
The girl standing before her still had reddened eye rims and the tip of her nose from crying just now, her eyes brimming with glistening moisture, wet and dewy, like a pitiful little white rabbit—yet her voice had carried a hint of fierceness, like a furious little tiger baring its fangs and brandishing its claws. Now, this little tiger under her gaze seemed to gradually retract its little claws, revealing a somewhat sheepish, uneasy demeanor.
As soon as the words left her mouth, Lin Xian realized that in her anxiety, her tone had been a bit too harsh. She bit her lip, steadied herself, and only then looked at Xiao Wanqing, softening her voice to explain: “Auntie Xiao, you’re soaked through. You should go take a hot shower and change clothes first, be careful or you’ll catch a cold too. Give me the medicine; I can boil the water myself. I do have this basic life skill, so please don’t worry.”
“It’s fine, boiling water is quick, it won’t take that much time.” Xiao Wanqing still wanted to insist.
Lin Xian frowned, staring at the glaringly wet clothes clinging to Xiao Wanqing’s body, unwilling to argue with her about this anymore. Her anger suddenly and inexplicably flared up again. Xiao Wanqing truly didn’t take her own body seriously at all, completely oblivious to her concern!
Involuntarily, Lin Xian’s thin lips pressed tightly together, her expression darkening once more. She suddenly stepped in front of Xiao Wanqing. Without a word, she grabbed Xiao Wanqing’s wrist tightly and pulled her rapidly toward the bathroom.
Caught off guard, Xiao Wanqing was dragged along, stumbling a few quick steps. She looked at Lin Xian’s back walking ahead of her, exuding a dark mood, a bit unable to process what was happening.
She struggled slightly against her wrist, but the girl only gripped it tighter. Having no other choice, she tried to soothe her: “I’ll listen to you, I’ll go myself. Then you go to the kitchen and boil some water first, alright?” But the girl only remained silent, walking even faster—until she pushed her through the bathroom door.
Xiao Wanqing stood in the bathroom, gazing at Lin Xian who was blocking the doorway as if afraid she wouldn’t obey and take a shower, momentarily not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Belatedly, she realized—Lin Xian seemed to be… sulking? She hesitated for a moment before asking softly: “Xianxian, I… can I go out and get my change of clothes first?”
Lin Xian froze for a moment. Looking at Xiao Wanqing, who inexplicably looked a bit pitiful standing in the bathroom, her reason slowly returned, and a deep crimson instantly flooded her cheeks.
Ah, what had she done? Auntie Xiao was a grown woman—was she really going to run away from taking a shower? And hadn’t she been too fierce just now…
Lin Xian helplessly clutched at her own clothes with both hands, trying to cover her embarrassment, and stammered: “I’m sorry, I… I was so anxious I didn’t think things through.”
After speaking, she didn’t dare to look at Xiao Wanqing’s expression anymore. She hastily reached out and took the bag of cold medicine from Xiao Wanqing’s hands, hurriedly turned around and walked out, leaving behind a quiet explanation: “I’m going to boil water now. Auntie Xiao, you go get your change of clothes.”
Xiao Wanqing watched Lin Xian’s expression change several times in such a short span, watched her shy little gestures, and warm laughter couldn’t help but spill from her lips. Truly, very cute.
She finally had the chance to bend down and rub her aching knees. Then she tiptoed to avoid Lin Xian, went to the living room, and took the medicine kit, before returning to the bedroom to get her change of clothes and heading into the bathroom.
While showering, warm water sprayed from the showerhead, slowly flowing over her entire body, washing away the chill that cloaked Xiao Wanqing, warming her from head to toe. With one hand, she swept the hair falling before her eyes back from her forehead, and suddenly the image of Lin Xian’s fierce little expression from worrying about her just now surfaced unbidden in her mind. That thunderous, tender shout of “You’re not going!” seemed to ring in her ears again. In that moment, Xiao Wanqing felt so warmed and reassured.
She had grown up in a harmonious and simple environment. Both her parents were even-tempered people who doted on their only daughter even more—in her memory, from childhood to adulthood, except for that one time, they had never been willing to speak a harsh word to her.
She hadn’t known before that one person’s worry for another could take so many different forms. Many of the emotions people hold for one another are not simple and pure; more complex emotional expressions require careful, heartfelt attention to gradually comprehend. It wasn’t until later that she first felt joy and elation from such awkward, clumsy concern—and that was…
The floodgates of memory seemed to have been suddenly triggered. The past, like the water spraying from the showerhead, came gushing forth wildly, beyond control. Xiao Wanqing frowned, revealing a pained expression.
She tilted her head back, letting the water mercilessly strike her delicate face. A moment later, she opened her eyes against the water still piercing toward her, casually wiped at her eyes, and turned off the shower. She stood in silence for a while, until she felt a deep chill, then exhaled, grabbed a towel, and gently began to dry herself.
After putting on her top, Xiao Wanqing opened the medicine kit and began treating the abrasions left from her fall.
Her left leg was better off—just a large bruised and purplish patch on her knee. Her right leg, perhaps from hitting something when she knelt down, was bruised and purplish not only on the knee but extending downward as well, with an abrasion on the kneecap that was faintly seeping blood, turning slightly white after being soaked. The ghastly purple-black bruises stood out starkly against her jade-smooth skin. Yet Xiao Wanqing didn’t think much of it. She merely disinfected the wounds, applied a few band-aids, and called it done.
She didn’t dare apply medicinal wine2, worried the smell would be too strong and noticeable—if Lin Xian discovered she was injured, she would worry and feel guilty all over again.
She hid the medicine kit in the highest cabinet of the bathroom vanity, changed into the comfortable, loose-fitting home pants she had specifically chosen, and then, grabbing a towel, walked out while casually drying her wet hair as if nothing had happened. As soon as she stepped out the door, she smelled a faint ginger scent permeating the air. After a moment’s thought, she had a vague suspicion.
She tentatively called out Lin Xian’s name in a soft voice: “Xianxian?”
Immediately, Lin Xian’s voice came from the kitchen not far away. “Auntie Xiao, I’m in the kitchen, come quickly.” Her voice had already returned to its usual clear brightness, seemingly carrying a hint of excitement and delight.
Her hair was no longer dripping, so Xiao Wanqing simply stopped drying it and quickened her pace toward the kitchen, carrying an anticipation she herself hadn’t even noticed.
Sure enough, Lin Xian in the kitchen was just as she had suspected—standing before the gas stove. As Xiao Wanqing arrived, she had just turned off the flame and was pouring out the soup. Hearing footsteps, the girl turned around and looked at her, still somewhat dewy eyes sparkling as they fixed on Xiao Wanqing, and said: “I made you some ginger soup3 to drive away the chill.”
Xiao Wanqing stepped forward in a few strides, casually draped the towel over the back of a nearby chair, freed her hands, and rubbed the girl’s soft hair. A gentle smile hung on her lips, her tone carrying undisguised delight: “Our Xianxian can even make ginger soup—I underestimated you.”
Lin Xian looked up at Xiao Wanqing. Her damp hair was slightly tousled, and her fair face carried a rosy flush from the steam, lending her an uncommonly charming liveliness. She could tell that Xiao Wanqing was genuinely surprised and delighted. Savoring that phrase “our Xianxian,” she couldn’t help but feel a surge of joy, tinged with a touch of shyness. She concealed her happiness, deliberately putting on a nonchalant look, and said dismissively: “I’ve seen Mom make it a few times. It’s not that hard—I think I learned it just from watching.” With that, she picked up the small bowl of ginger soup with both hands and carefully offered it to Xiao Wanqing: “Drink it while it’s hot.”
Xiao Wanqing lowered her eyes and smiled, about to take it.
Lin Xian suddenly pulled her extended hand back, and Xiao Wanqing didn’t reach the bowl. “Wait, hold on. It just came off the stove, so it must be really hot.” After saying this, she quickly walked out of the kitchen toward the dining area. Xiao Wanqing followed her step by step.
Lin Xian placed the bowl on the table, then sat down and gently blew into it.
Xiao Wanqing stood a short distance behind her, her ink-dark, gentle eyes watching this series of actions unblinkingly.
Lin Xian noticed Xiao Wanqing’s gaze and, as if suddenly remembering something, stopped blowing. She turned around, stuck out her tongue, covered her face, and said sheepishly to Xiao Wanqing: “I… I forgot for a moment. I don’t think I blew any spit into it…”
Xiao Wanqing hadn’t expected her to say that and laughed softly. She stepped forward and sat down beside Lin Xian, drew the bowl over, lowered her head, and took a small sip. Then she turned her head and teased: “Even if you did blow some in, I wouldn’t mind.” As she said this, her eyes seemed to ripple with gentle waves, tenderness spreading outward layer by layer.
Lin Xian met her gaze and felt that her heartbeat had suddenly gone haywire.
She didn’t know why, but she wanted to stare into Xiao Wanqing’s eyes, yet she didn’t dare to stare into them anymore. She swallowed involuntarily, averted her gaze, and added in a somewhat halting tone: “It wouldn’t be good if I passed my cold to you.”
And so, she heard Xiao Wanqing emit a lovely soft laugh beside her, and then her characteristically warm, pleasant voice rang out gently, carrying a rare touch of playfulness: “Then I’m not afraid either—after all, our Xianxian is so good at taking care of people.”
Lin Xian felt that Xiao Wanqing’s words seemed to carry a kind of magic—they fell gently upon her heart, yet struck heavily, sending out ripples, stirring up the spring water within, making her heartbeat falter in an instant.
Xiao Wanqing’s table manners had always been elegant. An ordinary bowl of ginger soup seemed to become a sumptuous feast in her hands. Lin Xian watched from the side with her chin propped in her hands, finding it simply a feast for the eyes. The question “Is it good?” circled round and round on the tip of her tongue, nearly escaping her lips.
But it was just ginger soup—what difference could there be in whether it tasted good or not? Lin Xian thought she still needed some dignity.
Yet Xiao Wanqing seemed to have guessed the countless turns of her thoughts. Not only did she drink every last drop, saving face for Lin Xian, but after finishing, her brows and eyes relaxed, her picturesque features curving into the arc of a crescent moon, a thoroughly satisfied expression on her face: “It’s really delicious.”
Lin Xian wanted to maintain her composure. She kept her face taut, but still couldn’t suppress the upward curve of her lips. She stood up, picked up Xiao Wanqing’s bowl, and headed toward the kitchen while deliberately putting on a proud air to tease Xiao Wanqing: “This just shows that Auntie Xiao has very discerning taste buds and excellent judgment. Naturally—someone as clever as me would have all her talent points fully maxed out. Of course my debut would be extraordinary.”
Xiao Wanqing would never let Lin Xian wash dishes for her. She followed Lin Xian’s steps, stood beside her, and took the bowl from her hands, saying naturally: “You’re still sick with a cold, don’t touch the water.” Then, very graciously, she echoed Lin Xian’s narcissism: “I also think that having the honor of tasting Chef Lin’s exquisite soup today is truly the greatest privilege of this humble Xiao4.”
Her hands moved with practiced ease. By the time she finished speaking, she had already washed the bowl, and then went on to wash the pot that had been used for the soup. Lin Xian knew well Xiao Wanqing’s stubbornness when it came to certain household chores, and knew that arguing with her was pointless, so she simply let her wash up.
After washing the dishes, Lin Xian urged Xiao Wanqing to go rest in her room for a while. She kept in mind that Xiao Wanqing had barely slept the entire night before.
Xiao Wanqing raised her slender wrist, checked her watch, and shook her head: “I just took a shower, and I don’t feel sleepy at all right now. I’ll take a nap after lunch at noon. But you—go sleep for a while. Does your head still hurt?” She calculated that it would soon be about time to prepare lunch.
Although Lin Xian hadn’t slept well last night either, she truly had no desire to sleep right now. So in the end, the two of them went to the study together, sitting down at the same desk on opposite sides—Xiao Wanqing reviewing manuscripts, and Lin Xian reading a book.
The study was tranquil, occasionally punctuated by the sound of Xiao Wanqing lightly tapping on the keyboard.
Lin Xian’s original intention had indeed been to read, but in the end, she hadn’t taken in a single word. At some unknown point, it had become—Xiao Wanqing reading the computer screen, and her—watching Xiao Wanqing unblinkingly.
This was the first time since coming to Xiao Wanqing’s home that Lin Xian had seen Xiao Wanqing in work mode this close up. She saw Xiao Wanqing’s eyes focused intently on the screen, her elegant brows unconsciously furrowed slightly, her jade-white, slender hands—one resting on the mouse, the other unconsciously tapping lightly at the keyboard. From Lin Xian’s angle, she could clearly see the beautiful lines of Xiao Wanqing’s side profile, as if meticulously drawn by a master painter.
Her expression was so serious, and yet, so captivating.
Xiao Wanqing moved the mouse and switched to another document, then her brows gradually relaxed, and a faint curve appeared at the corners of her lips. Lin Xian thought—Xiao Wanqing must be smiling so beautifully again…
She gazed at her with her chin in her hands, unable to resist parting her lips and softly calling out: “Auntie Xiao…”
Xiao Wanqing was immersed in her work. Hearing the sound, she naturally stopped what she was doing and turned to look at Lin Xian. Her expression carried a hint of inquiry, and the traces of seriousness that hadn’t yet faded from her features vanished entirely the moment she looked at Lin Xian, leaving only a warm, soft smile.
Her eyes shone brilliantly, like a clear ancient pool brimming with reflected starlight.
Indeed, so it was…
Lin Xian didn’t answer Xiao Wanqing’s unspoken question. She just gazed at her, tilted her head, and with bright eyes and a radiant smile, called out again: “Auntie Xiao…”
Xiao Wanqing blinked, the water in her eyes rippling. She understood—Lin Xian was teasing her again. She wasn’t annoyed at all. She simply curved her lips, revealing shallow dimples, reached out and gently tapped Lin Xian’s straight, elegant nose, and then, as if nothing had happened, turned back to continue reviewing manuscripts.
Outside the window, black clouds pressed down upon the city, the wind howling and rain pouring.
Yet Lin Xian half-closed her eyes, her heart full of warmth, and rested her head on the desk like a kitten whose fur had been comfortably stroked.
It felt as though time was perfectly serene.
The author has something to say:
Thinking about how Auntie Xiao might get scars makes my heart ache so much T_T… (An author with way too much drama, QAQ)
Footnotes
- Hua la la is a Chinese onomatopoeia for the sound of flowing or splashing water.
- Medicinal wine (yaojiu) is a traditional Chinese remedy made by steeping herbs in alcohol, typically having a strong distinctive smell, used for treating bruises and promoting blood circulation.
- Ginger soup is a traditional Chinese home remedy for warding off cold and dampness, commonly prepared by boiling sliced ginger with brown sugar.
- The self-referential 'mou' is a formal, self-deprecating way of referring to oneself in Chinese, traditionally used in literary or dramatic contexts by substituting one's surname for 'mou' (meaning 'a certain').
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