Jiang Baichuan’s exact words were: “They will try every means to get Grasshopper back. I feel that whether we make the exchange or not, we can’t escape our fate. So we might as well not make the exchange.”
Yan Tuo understood the words but couldn’t quite grasp why Jiang Baichuan felt they “couldn’t escape either way.”
However, Nie Jiuluo immediately grasped the key point.
She said, “You mentioned that Lin Xiru was looking for her son, and when Uncle Jiang’s group walked the Green Soil, they only brought back Grasshopper. Looking at the timeline, they caught Grasshopper at the turn of ’91 to ’92, and Lin Xiru first appeared in September ’92—the timing is quite close. If we set aside the huge difference in appearance, there’s a strong possibility that Grasshopper is Lin Xiru’s son.”
“If he’s her son, he must be extremely important to her, but Grasshopper has been exposed to light for nearly thirty years, and his time is almost up. Put yourself in Lin Xiru’s position—would she be happy to see Grasshopper?”
Yan Tuo sighed internally.
Did that even need asking? To make an imperfect comparison, it was like a mother desperately searching for a child kidnapped by traffickers, only to finally find them on their deathbed—how could she not be filled with resentment?
When he first heard these words, he thought Jiang Baichuan was just being stubborn and fearless of death. Now he realized the man wasn’t fearless—he had just thought it through completely.
He glanced at the time. “It’s late. I’ll go wash up and get some rest.”
Though the topics of the past few hours had been heavy, he felt excited. It was like being a blind man groping in the dark for years, suddenly gaining sight and hearing.
As he stood up, he took the empty water glass with him.
Nie Jiuluo hadn’t noticed at first, but when she glimpsed her own nearly empty cup with red dates and wolfberries piled at the bottom, she suddenly felt pressure below her navel.
Everyone knows this kind of pressure can’t be relieved, and with each passing second, it only grows more intense.
…
Accompanied by the sound of running water from the bathroom, Nie Jiuluo gripped the blanket between her teeth, engaged in an intense internal struggle.
Should she try to hold it? Wait until the caretaker comes tomorrow? It’s just ten hours or so, right?
No, no, that would kill her. They were all mortal beings, weren’t they? Besides, in Yan Tuo’s eyes, she wasn’t some fairy anyway…
She couldn’t understand why a man needed to take such a long shower. Two minutes should be enough…
…
Yan Tuo had been soaked in that filthy mud pool the night before. Although he’d showered afterward and changed clothes when he went back to the villa with Chen Fu, he still felt uncomfortable and couldn’t help but wash thoroughly, even shampooing twice.
When he returned to the room in his sleepwear, Nie Jiuluo was curled up, barely able to hold it anymore.
Of course, she tried to sound casual: “Yan Tuo, I need to use the bathroom.”
Yan Tuo thought for a moment: “I just finished, and the window’s open for ventilation. Maybe wait a bit?”
Nie Jiuluo blurted out: “No need.”
She regretted it immediately—speaking too quickly had revealed her desperation.
Yan Tuo understood instantly and wanted to laugh but held back. He came over and asked, “So… what’s the procedure for going to the bathroom now? How should I… help?”
What procedure? Nie Jiuluo continued holding it: “The caretaker usually… just helps me walk there, then helps me back afterward, that’s all.”
Yan Tuo was surprised: “You can walk now?”
Why so many questions? Nie Jiuluo wanted to cry: “The caretaker says walking slowly… is fine, even women who’ve just given birth… can get up the same day…”
Yan Tuo: “Isn’t that because the caretaker simply can’t carry you?”
As he spoke, he bent down, pulled back her blanket, slipped his right arm under her knees and his left arm behind her waist, then lowered his head to make it easier for her to hold on.
Nie Jiuluo hesitated briefly before wrapping her arms around his neck. He’d just showered, and the hair at the nape of his neck was still damp, with cool drops of water touching her hands.
Carrying her was fine, but he knew he’d have to be especially careful when lifting and setting her down. Yan Tuo said, “If it hurts, just say so.”
He stood up as steadily as he could.
The wound stretched slightly with only mild pain. Nie Jiuluo didn’t think it was serious, just furrowed her brow without making a sound.
In the bathroom, the window was half-open, and most of the steam from his shower had dissipated, leaving only a faint scent of shower gel.
At her request, Yan Tuo set her down by the sink. They’d forgotten to bring slippers, so he laid down a bath towel to step on. Liu Changxi’s room wasn’t large, and the bathroom was even smaller—everything was within arm’s reach for support, so there was no fear of falling.
Yan Tuo watched her steady herself against the sink: “I’ll be outside. Call me when you’re done or if you need anything.”
Nie Jiuluo nodded. She first turned on the hot water and used a moistened tissue to wipe her face. Only after the door closed did she let out a breath, using the sound of running water as cover as she shuffled step by step to the toilet.
Yan Tuo leaned against the wall outside, hearing the water running continuously. At first, he wondered why washing her face took so long, but then he realized what was happening and quickly walked away to the living room, wandering, sometimes picking up a cup to look at the doodles on it, sometimes examining the markings on the bottom of a vase.
After a while, the water stopped, and he heard her say, “Done.”
Yan Tuo opened the door and went in.
Perhaps because of what had just happened, he felt somewhat awkward seeing her this time. Nie Jiuluo felt the same, lowering her eyes and self-consciously adjusting her hair.
The pajamas were a bit too loose, and the pattern was rather cute, not quite suiting her. Yet this contrast made her seem delicate and girl-next-door-like. Yan Tuo remembered when he had entered her studio that night, how she had been wearing a pearl-silver silk robe, sitting with such grace…
It was hard to believe this was the same person.
Yan Tuo approached and asked, “Shall we… do it the same way as before, going back?”
Nie Jiuluo said, “You could just help me walk back, just go slowly.”
Yan Tuo smiled. “Let’s not practice walking in the middle of the night.”
He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist. Nie Jiuluo naturally nestled into his embrace, her body soft and cool.
For a moment, Yan Tuo felt like they were lovers amid romance.