My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 141: I was cheated accidentally

Xu Qing and Jiang He are lounging on the couch, but for Jiang He, this situation feels much heavier than it does for Xu Qing. While Xu Qing's nonchalant attitude keeps him smirking, Jiang He's entire body tenses as she clutches her clothes, sneaking nervous glances at him before quickly looking away.

“Confucius once said, ‘Eating and mating are natural desires.’ It’s nothing indecent,” Xu Qing said in a tone that feigned sincerity. “We’re boyfriend and girlfriend. If there’s no spark, we might as well swear brotherhood and forget about romance altogether.”

As he spoke, his hand rested on hers, his voice taking on an almost didactic tone. “How about we find a statue of Guan Yu, light some incense, and kneel to swear as sworn siblings?”

“No!” Jiang He shook her head frantically, her voice tight with nerves. “We can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Xu Qing asked, taken aback by her vehement reaction.

“You’ve… you’ve kissed me!” Jiang He murmured, lowering her head and fiddling with her fingers.

How could sworn siblings do something like that? Even masters and disciples wouldn’t. Only lovers would… because lovers are meant to get married someday.

“Then… you can touch my calf,” she finally offered after a long, conflicted pause, reluctantly pulling her leg out from its crossed position.

They’d kissed plenty of times already. Letting him touch her leg shouldn’t be a big deal, yet Jiang He couldn’t shake the feeling that this might escalate into something entirely different. Sure enough, Xu Qing didn’t just “touch” her calf. Instead, he took both her legs, placed them together, and laid them across his lap with evident satisfaction.

“This,” Xu Qing declared, “is what a normal couple should look like.”

Getting Jiang He, the so-called heroine of Kaiyuan, into a position typical for couples was no small feat. This minor achievement filled Xu Qing with pride, though his actions didn’t cross any lines. He simply held her legs, trying to help her ease into the feeling of being in a relationship.

“If you’re just greedy for someone’s body, that’s lust, not love,” Xu Qing explained. “Love is wanting a person—their presence, their feelings. It’s like how a kiss or a hug, or even a little casual touch, can bring so much joy.”

Jiang He turned her head to look out the window, the sprawling night sky outside doing little to calm her racing heart. After a while, realizing Xu Qing wasn’t making any additional moves, she let out a quiet sigh of relief. Her rigid posture softened, and she shifted her position slightly, sneaking glances at Xu Qing while pretending to watch the movie.

“If you always ask first before doing something, are you afraid I’ll hit you?” Jiang He finally asked, her voice light but curious.

“No.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Xu Qing answered, his tone calm. “I just want to consider your feelings. After all, you’re from a different era. If I suddenly pulled you over without warning, whether you kicked me, pulled away, or nervously went along with it, none of that would be ideal. It’s better to give you a heads-up so you don’t get caught up overthinking.”

As he spoke, his hand gently stroked her calf. “I’m teaching you about love.”

“Is dating me tiring?”

“Not at all. I like you just the way you are.”

Jiang He pressed her legs together as Xu Qing’s hand slid to her ankle. When he grasped it lightly, she reflexively flinched but didn’t pull away entirely. Instead, she pursed her lips and gave a soft warning, “Don’t touch my feet.”

Life really was unpredictable. Just last fall, she’d been pointing a sword at this man, pretending she couldn’t read, and secretly fishing his discarded project plan out of the trash at night. Now, as summer approached, she was curled up on a couch with her legs in his lap, watching a movie while he worked.

She’d seen and experienced things she never could have imagined in her time—economic systems, culture, daily life… and love.

Maybe it was the books she carried during the day, but Jiang He felt utterly drained. It was already past nine at night, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up to take a bath. She lazily leaned against the couch, letting the faint tickle of Xu Qing’s touch on her leg make her drowsy. Half-lidded eyes gazing at the warm light above, she remarked, “This is the third time you’ve rewatched this part.”

“I’m thinking,” Xu Qing replied, rewinding the movie another thirty seconds.

“Thinking about what?”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is you should learn to think, too. Otherwise, you’ll end up gullible and let someone trick you into becoming their wife.”

He gestured toward the screen. “Like them.”

Jiang He ignored him, unwilling to admit she wasn’t as clueless as he suggested. After all, she’d caught onto his baby-related schemes last time and had firmly shut them down.

“Kill it!”

“Isn’t it already dead?”

“Then kill it again!”

On the screen, three villagers exchanged these lines, and Xu Qing chuckled as he replayed the scene several times before finally taking his hands off her legs to type something into his laptop.

“This is ignorance,” he said, fingers tapping away at the keyboard. “They lack experience, so their brains only focus on one thing—revenge. Their goal is to ‘kill it,’ and even though the fish is already dead, they haven’t satisfied their need for vengeance. So their only solution is to ‘kill it again.’”

“Grind its bones to dust. Eat it,” Jiang He chimed in, feeling clever.

“Not bad. Always thinking about food,” Xu Qing teased, smiling as he resumed typing.

“Is this really what you’ve been thinking about?” Jiang He asked, her voice dripping with skepticism.

“Of course. But there’s more to it than that. I’m writing a review. The part where someone asks, ‘Have you ever lost your husband?’ has already been analyzed to death, so I’m focusing on different aspects. Rehashing old points is boring.”

Though Jiang He didn’t fully understand his explanation, she appreciated his patient attitude. Being with Xu Qing was like learning by osmosis—subtle and continuous.

“Ignorance is the original sin,” Xu Qing continued, “but those three lines in the movie also convey deep hatred, comedic innocence, and dark humor—all packed into three shots and three lines. That’s impressive.”

As Xu Qing typed furiously, Jiang He watched in awe, envying his speed compared to her hunt-and-peck typing. Finally, she asked, “Don’t you think you’re overthinking this?”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But thinking a lot is better than not thinking at all. It’s how you develop depth.”

With that, he resumed stroking her leg, deep in thought.

Art was always open to interpretation. Whatever you could see in it, that was what it meant.

“Why?” Jiang He asked absently.

“To understand. For example, I know why you like me and what about me you like. But you don’t know why I like you or what I like about you.”

“You like my shoes and hands.”

“That’s just what you think.” Xu Qing playfully squeezed her leg. “That’s the difference between us. I understand your limits and preferences, but you don’t know mine. You can only test them step by step. You’ve figured out I like kissing, so you kiss me often, but you won’t take it further. Isn’t that a bit silly?”

Jiang He fell silent, staring at his profile.

It was true. She didn’t really know.

She’d fallen for him inexplicably, allowed herself to be taken in by him without understanding why.

Maybe she really wasn’t as smart as she thought.

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