My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 95: Shameless

“All the encounters in this world are just reunions after a long separation.”

Xu Qing caught a faint whiff of the fragrance beside him. It was coming from Jiang He—a fresh scent of body wash and shampoo, mixed with something warm and pleasant.

“All the people you meet and the things you experience are what you’re meant to encounter. It was all destined long ago. This day, this moment, this scene—all of it is the result of your past actions, or influenced by your personality...

When you came here, the first person you saw wasn’t me. Before me, you went out for a walk, lingered in the stairwell for a while, and even ran into Aunt Cheng on her way home. But ultimately, we still met, lived together, and shared meals—that’s fate.”

He raised his hand, trying to touch Jiang He’s long hair that draped behind her. Instead, his hand landed gently on the back of her hand.

“This has everything to do with our past experiences. If I were a cold-hearted person, a stubbornly honest man, or a cheeky little punk, it would’ve led to a different outcome. Us being here now is the culmination of countless small events. If we could go back to that stormy day, when I first met you, saying, ‘Finally, you’re here,’ wouldn’t feel out of place at all.”

Jiang He carefully recalled that day. “I just asked you... if I were a helpless girl with no strength to fight...”

“Things would be completely different,” Xu Qing replied.

“What do you mean, what then?”

“You’ve been going on for so long. What are you trying to trick me into?”

“...”

Xu Qing froze.

“Uh... Was I too blunt?” Jiang He reflected on herself.

“Is that really the problem?” Xu Qing felt half of his drunkenness evaporate.

“Then what is the problem?” Jiang He asked.

“Drop the word ‘trick,’” Xu Qing said.

He’d been thinking all afternoon, took a nap, had dinner, and thought some more. He finally faced his impulse and the potential consequences, rambling on thanks to the alcohol... He even considered whether time travel would damage his body and make him infertile.

And this is what he got?

Xu Qing took a deep breath, inhaling Jiang He’s faint scent, closed his eyes, and reached out to pull her into his arms for a hug. But Jiang He didn’t budge.

“...”

“...”

He opened his eyes and met Jiang He’s gaze. Awkward silence spread between them.

“What are you trying to do?” Jiang He looked at him with a strange expression.

For someone who practiced martial arts, standing tall and upright, it really wasn’t easy to just collapse into someone’s arms.

“Nothing... haha, nothing at all.”

Xu Qing stood up, slid off the couch, and said, “I drank too much. Hold on, I’m going to the bathroom…”

Jiang He watched him shuffle off to the bathroom in his slippers, then looked back at her shoulder. Maybe she should’ve leaned into his pull?

She blinked, realizing too late.

...

The carefully built atmosphere of ambiguity was easily shattered. Feeling a bit exhausted, Xu Qing walked out of the bathroom. He glanced at the mirror above the sink. The person inside looked back at him.

He unbuttoned his shirt and touched his chest. His mind was still foggy. He splashed his face with cold water to clear his head, leaning on the sink and scrutinizing himself.

It felt like he was just one step away.

The rough touch of Jiang He’s palm on his chest lingered. If she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t have done something so intimate. But that dense little head of hers didn’t know how to express it—maybe out of shyness, or just pure cluelessness. Xu Qing couldn’t figure out what she was thinking, but he could sense the change in her.

“You’re still here?”

Xu Qing dried his face and came out to see Jiang He still sitting there. It was already past ten in the evening.

“Yeah... I’m going to play a bit of a game.”

“Oh.”

The atmosphere was completely gone. He grabbed his laptop, sat on the couch, and got to work.

He had just watched Farewell My Concubine, and he hadn’t finished writing the review. No matter how old the movie was or how many people had seen it, if he decided to do something, he’d do it seriously. Even if no one read his writing, it was good practice and helped grow his account.

No skyscraper rises from flat ground; everything is built step by step.

Jiang He logged into the game but didn’t play. She checked the auction house prices as Xu Qing had taught her, noted them down, then closed the computer and leaned closer to see what Xu Qing was doing.

In the bright living room, the only sound was the clack of the keyboard. Xu Qing focused on typing, pausing now and then to think, trying to ignore the faint scent next to him.

Tease a guy and not follow through? This girl was trouble.

“What’s the point of doing this?” Jiang He finally asked after watching for a while.

“If I do it well, I can make money. If not, it kills time. Better than doing nothing.”

Hearing the word “money,” Jiang He’s eyes lit up. “Can I do it too?”

“You didn’t study literature,” Xu Qing replied, still typing. “You only know how to absorb things, not express them. Like how you can’t express that you like me... What did you think of that movie we just watched?”

“The times have changed,” Jiang He said.

“And?”

“Hmm...”

“Think it over. Teacher Xu will guide you.”

Xu Qing chuckled and continued writing. He wrote about Douzi, about Cheng Dieyi, about the connection between opera and real life.

Some say movies extend human life by threefold, and there’s truth in that. They make people think and view life from different perspectives.

“Even heroes fall short—Lin Chong did, and so did the Conqueror.”

With Jiang He and Winter Melon by his side, Xu Qing poured his thoughts into the keyboard.

“There’s more to expressing yourself than just words... If you don’t know these two characters, you won’t understand the meaning, like the real and false Conqueror. You won’t even think about it. That’s why you need to read more books.”

He stretched and finished the article. Turning to Jiang He, who was petting Winter Melon in her pajamas, he felt that urge rising again. “Do you like reading?”

“Yes.”

“I like looking at you too.”

“...”

Jiang He blinked, sensing something mischievous in his smile.

“Can I give you a hug?” Xu Qing asked.

“W-why would you want to hug me?”

“To satisfy me.”

When Jiang He didn’t respond, Xu Qing reached out, pulling her—and Winter Melon—into his arms.

Soft warmth filled his embrace. He let out a long sigh.

“Remember when I explained fake medicine to you while writing that review?”

Jiang He pursed her lips, feeling his warmth, and quietly closed her eyes. “I remember.”

“Merchants chase profit. That’s not a bad thing—profit is the greatest motivator.”

Breathing in the scent of her hair, Xu Qing whispered, “I chase profit too. I want you.”

“...”

“So for you, I’ll become a gentle man who can hold up a home.”

Before Jiang He could react, he let go, stood up, and smiled as he brushed her hand.

“Good night. Sleep early.”

“G-good night.”

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