Sweet Wife in My Arms

strange feeling.
She felt both numb and bitter; she was seized with the urge to ask him to leave, but she knew she did not mean it.
She did not want to see him go.

She wondered how it had turned out this way.
The more time she spent with Lu Yi, the more she realized that she had been wrong about him in her previous life.
She had been a horrible judge of character—her marriage to Lu Qin was proof enough of that.

But she kept her feelings to herself.
There were some things she could not bring herself to say, just yet; things that Lu Yi would not say, either, so long as Yan Huan did not broach the subject first.
In a way, they were watching each other, keeping each other at a polite distance as they tried to figure out their relationship.

Yan Huan felt that this was for the best.
She no longer knew how to behave around the man before her.

She was afraid to get too close to him.

But the thought of him leaving her behind scared her, too.

Lu Yi held his hand out to her.
“Give me the thermometer.” As usual, the lack of expression on his calm, stoic face made it difficult to guess what he was thinking.
That had been his character in Yan Huan’s previous life, and it had remained unchanged in this life.
He lived up to his reputation as the hardest member of the Lu family to get close to and understand.

Yan Huan took the thermometer out of her mouth.

Lu Yi looked at it.
36.2 degrees.
That was normal.

He exited the room with the thermometer in his hand.
In the living room, Yi Ling and He Yibin were engaged in an animated discussion as they watched a movie on the living room TV.

“She’s not as pretty as my Huanhuan.”

“Yes.” He Yibin nodded in agreement.
“True.”

“Her acting isn’t as good as my Huanhuan’s.” Yi Ling turned her nose up snootily for emphasis.

“Exactly,” He Yibin agreed.

“The movie would be so much better if my Huanhuan played the female lead,” Yi Ling said with complete confidence.
She was not afraid of being labeled “thick-skinned”—her skin was plenty thick, after all.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He Yibin and Yi Ling were singing in the same key now.
They bonded over their shared tastes.

He Yibin was a doctor, but that did not mean he took a clinical, no-nonsense approach to life.
In fact, weepy, tearjerker melodramas were his biggest weakness.
He wept like a baby whenever he watched a particularly moving melodrama.

That was why he was getting along so swimmingly with Yi Ling—he had been profoundly moved by Divorced, and now considered Yan Huan’s performance to be the golden standard for melodramas.

Lu Yi showed He Yibin the thermometer.

He Yibin took it.
“Okay, good, her temperature’s back to normal.
She should be all right now.”

Yi Ling was relieved to hear that, but her relief gave way to embarrassment when she remembered how quickly she had fallen asleep last night.
She shuddered to think what might have happened had Lu Yi not been there for them; her Huanhuan could have died from her fever in the night, while Yi Ling snored on the sofa, blissfully unaware.

Lu Yi prepared to leave—he had no reason to stay now that Yan Huan had recovered, and he had a lot of work to deal with.
He had to check in with the Peace City survivors, and also file a report to his higher-ups detailing his experience with the mudslide.

Yan Huan was lying on her bed when Lu Yi left.
She was awake; she knew he had left, but she made no attempt to get up.

Yi Ling opened the door to Yan Huan’s bedroom and walked in.
She carefully tucked the blanket around Yan Huan as she mumbled, half to herself, “I guess they’re not so bad.
I wish they’d stop taking my share of the food, though.”

“Yes, they’re okay.” Yan Huan added silently: But I already know that.
The one I hate is Lu Qin, not Lu Yi.

As in Yan Huan’s previous life, the mudslide in Peace City received a lot of public attention.
The natural disaster was covered by the TV stations, the internet, and all the major newspapers.
And just like in Yan Huan’s previous life, Lu Yi and Lei Qingyi were thrust into the spotlight because they had experienced the mudslide first-hand.