Extra #6: Liang Chengmin

Liang Chengmin’s sudden fainting sent Luan Mingrui into a panic. He scooped her up and rushed her to the hospital. After a brief spell of dizziness, Liang Chengmin opened her eyes while still in Luan Mingrui’s arms, felt uncomfortable, and closed them again. When they arrived at the hospital, the emergency room doctor recognized her immediately and asked, “What happened to Dr. Liang?” Upon hearing that Dr. Liang had fainted, and with few patients around at the moment, the nurses gathered to check on her. The experienced ER doctor took one look and diagnosed her with exhaustion and low blood sugar. Turning to Luan Mingrui, the doctor scolded him: “How do you take care of your wife? Letting her go hungry and sleepless until she faints—what kind of husband are you? Why not find someone who knows how to take care of her?”

Luan Mingrui stood there silently, listening without a word. What did divorce or dignity matter now? His heart ached for her.

When Liang Chengmin finally came to and opened her eyes, she saw Luan Mingrui sitting beside her. A flood of grievance welled up inside her, her lips quivered, and tears began streaming down her face.

Luan Mingrui reached out and held her hand, speaking softly: “Don’t cry. I apologize.”

“What are you apologizing for? Where were you wrong? Didn’t you insist on getting a divorce? As soon as my father brings back the documents, I’ll go through with the paperwork!”

“The divorce was your idea,” Luan Mingrui reminded her.

“You agreed to divorce just because I said it? When I said I wouldn’t marry you before, why didn’t you listen?” Liang Chengmin was overwhelmed with grief. “I want a divorce from you!” She was so infuriated by Luan Mingrui that this fainting episode solidified her resolve to end their marriage. An apology now? Too late!

After receiving a glucose IV, Liang Chengmin walked home, with Luan Mingrui trailing behind her.

“Stop following me! We’re not even close!”

Luan Mingrui didn’t respond but continued to follow her. When they reached Liang Chengmin’s house, she blocked him at the door. “You’re not allowed in!”

Luan Mingrui glanced at her, then called out, “Mom!” Liang’s mother emerged from the house, saw the two of them arguing at the door, and said, “If you’re going to fight, come inside and close the door.” They were adults, after all. If they truly wanted a divorce, they would have done it already—why all this drama?

It was like children playing house!

Liang’s mother had been through it all, seen the ups and downs of their small town, and taught for many years. She understood everything clearly. Glancing at them, she said, “I’ll go get some oil,” and left.

Left alone in the house, Luan Mingrui reached for her hand, but she pulled away, hiding her hands behind her back. “Don’t touch me!”

“Can’t I touch my own wife?”

“Who’s your wife? We’re getting divorced!”

“I’m not divorcing!”

“It’s too late! I must divorce you!” Liang Chengmin’s eyes reddened. “You can eat your meals, and I’ll drink my wine—we’ll have nothing to do with each other!” She threw his cruel words back at him.

Luan Mingrui couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

He was used to being the one who made others angry, but Liang Chengmin was a tough nut to crack. How stubborn was she? Luan Mingrui felt he’d only met one person like her in his life—someone with such an unbending neck, refusing to bow no matter what. She was tougher and colder than he was.

Now, he didn’t know what to do next.

He simply stared at Liang Chengmin for a long time before saying, “I’ll come back when you’ve calmed down. If you still want a divorce then, I’ll do as you wish.” With that, he turned and left.

Everyone has their pride, Luan Mingrui thought. The next day, he packed his things and left for another city.

Luan Mingrui, nearly thirty when he married, didn’t realize that sometimes women needed to be coaxed, that he should lower himself and gently comfort her. In his heart, he believed Liang Chengmin shouldn’t have gone drinking with her male medical school classmates. It also bothered him that she had once mentioned her family wanting her to marry a doctor, teacher, or worker. And then there was what Luan Mingcheng had said about her having been involved with a doctor. Before, he had thought it impossible for her to have feelings for anyone else—she seemed so clueless about relationships. But seeing that doctor helping her when she was drunk made him wonder if they really had been together. He didn’t know why he cared so much, but perhaps it was because he had always been the one pursuing her, while she appeared reluctant. It seemed she lacked enthusiasm for their marriage, as if she had only married him because of family pressure and his persistence.

His business was exhausting—how easy could trading seafood be? There were times when he had to move heavy goods himself, leaving bruises and scars all over his body. In the past, whenever he traveled for work, he would write letters or send telegrams to Liang Chengmin, thinking of her every day. But this time, he didn’t bother with any of that. No letters, no telegrams—their relationship grew cold.

Luan Mingrui felt miserable, but he didn’t know how to express it. He feared Liang Chengmin might mock him. These past two weeks had felt like hell—he often wondered if he could go on living.

He had no idea how Liang Chengmin had spent these two weeks. He assumed she must have been fine without him.

When he returned, the trees in the small town were sprouting new buds.

What a beautiful spring it was. He wanted to see Liang Chengmin first, so he went to her hospital, only to find out she had the day off. He went to her house and lingered outside for a long time, unable to bring himself to knock.

Finally, he returned to his parents’ house for dinner.

His parents asked him, “Why don’t you invite Minmin to come over for dinner tonight? While you were away, she often came to take care of us.”

“What did she take care of?”

“Oh, plenty. You should ask her yourself.”

After dinner, Luan Mingrui returned home, leaving his luggage by the door. Pushing it open, he saw someone in the yard hanging up quilts to dry. Standing on tiptoes, stretching to adjust the bedding, with two thick braids swaying—there was no mistaking it; it was Liang Chengmin.

Hearing the gate creak, Liang Chengmin turned to look at him. Why had he grown so thin? Hadn’t he been eating properly?

He walked in and closed the door behind him.

“Not working today?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then hear me out.”

“Go ahead.” Liang Chengmin had missed him terribly. She hadn’t known loving someone could feel like this—a heart-wrenching turmoil. She had insisted on a divorce, but once he disappeared without a word, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Sometimes, to check if he was doing well, she would visit his mother. His mother would show her his letters.

They had gotten married after knowing each other for such a short time.

Neither of them truly understood the other, nor did they know what they meant to each other. They both assumed their marriage was based on compromise. But neither realized that if it were truly about compromise, why had they waited until this age to get married?

“I missed you these past two weeks.”

“If you missed me, why didn’t you write me a letter? Or send a telegram?” Liang Chengmin asked him. “Is this how you miss someone?” Even a single word would have sufficed—just something to let her know he was okay, where he was, and where she should look when she thought of him.

“Didn’t you say you wanted a divorce?”

“Yes, and I still do!” Liang Chengmin had always been stubborn, like a duck refusing to budge even as its heart burned fiercely. At work, though she worried deeply about her patients, her words often came across as scolding or lecturing.

“Then let’s go now.”

“Go where? What time is it? The offices are closed!” Liang Chengmin glared at him, frustrated that he still didn’t understand what he had done wrong. She turned and went inside, bringing out a letter. “Read this now.”

Luan Mingrui opened the letter and saw Liang Chengmin’s handwriting. She had written a self-criticism for him, saying that he shouldn’t have slandered her, that she had the right to eat with members of the opposite sex (as long as it wasn’t alone), and that he should trust her.

That parenthetical note was amusing.

He handed the letter back to her. “I won’t read it.”

“You haven’t seen the second page yet.”

“I’m not reading it. I don’t want to.” Luan Mingrui remained stubborn, unwilling to yield. “If I have to read this letter for you to drop the divorce, then let’s just go through with the paperwork. I won’t read it.”

Liang Chengmin finally understood what kind of person Luan Mingrui was. All the rumors about him were true—he was indeed stiff and cold. Even though the second page contained her own self-criticism: she shouldn’t have gotten drunk with men or let them escort her back to her dorm alone, she shouldn’t have so easily mentioned divorce, and… she missed him dearly.

“Then I’ll read it,” Liang Chengmin flipped to the second page. “After I finish reading, we’ll go handle the paperwork first thing tomorrow morning.”

She began reading her part, but before she could finish the first few lines, Luan Mingrui suddenly stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace. Liang Chengmin kicked and bit him, tears streaming down her face. People called her an iron-willed woman, but Luan Mingrui had made her cry more times than she could count.

“I have to divorce you—you’ve lost your chance! I can’t live with someone with such a terrible temper, and I refuse to spend my life compromising just to make this marriage work!” Liang Chengmin struggled in his arms, but Luan Mingrui held her tightly, repeatedly muttering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Stop reading, Liang Chengmin.” Luan Mingrui clung to her desperately. “It hurts to see you like this.”

Both of them were unbending by nature, but marriage didn’t require everything to be spelled out, nor did it demand one person to always be the first to apologize. His eyes reddened, and her tears fell—all because of that unspoken “I’m sorry.” No one starts out knowing everything.

Luan Mingrui was filled with regret. He wiped away her tears. “Liang Chengmin, you can do anything you like from now on—I won’t interfere. I’ll only restrain myself.”

“It’s not about you leaving me alone; it’s about you trusting me.”

“I trust you.”

“You’re lying! If you trusted me, you wouldn’t have acted this way!” Liang Chengmin sobbed uncontrollably. Luan Mingrui cupped her face and kissed her gently.

“Don’t you dare kiss me,” Liang Chengmin said, though her hands clutched his shirt, and she closed her eyes slightly.

“Liang Chengmin,” Luan Mingrui whispered against her lips. “Every day I was gone, I thought of you. I hope our marriage isn’t one of compromise.”

At those words, Liang Chengmin opened her eyes. “If I could settle, I would have married someone else long ago.”

“Speak properly.”

“Anyway, I didn’t marry you out of compromise.”

“Then why did you marry me?” Luan Mingrui cupped her face. “Why? I married you because you’re the only one in my heart. If it weren’t you, I’d stay single for the rest of my life. And you?”

Liang Chengmin pressed her lips to his. “Because I love you. Now you can kiss me.”

When they were apart, she missed him desperately, her heart aching as if it might break. When she returned home, her mother would ask, “Did Mingrui send a letter?” She didn’t know how to respond. During work hours, at least she had things to keep her busy, but when she came home, she was all alone.

Back when they were preparing for marriage, Luan Mingrui had insisted on not living with his parents after the wedding. Just before the wedding, he moved into an old house. When Liang Chengmin returned to the empty house, it felt desolate. Returning to her parents’ home felt strange too, as there was no trace of Luan Mingrui there. Eventually, she went back to their little home.

He hadn’t written to her, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask his family where he was. All she could do was think of him, her heart aching with every passing day.

That night, both of them were desperate. Newlyweds who had fought so bitterly and been apart for so many days—every cell in their bodies yearned for each other. Luan Mingrui carried her into the room, kicked the door shut with his foot, and began pulling at her clothes.

Liang Chengmin was like water, letting him scoop her up and set her down again, submitting completely to him.

In moments of intense passion, Liang Chengmin even had the strange sensation that a seed was sprouting within her.

After that night, their relationship became truly harmonious. Liang Chengmin became Luan Mingrui’s shadow, following him wherever he went after work. Luan Mingrui loved taking her around town, introducing her proudly to acquaintances: “This is my wife, Liang Chengmin.”

A little over ten days later, as Liang Chengmin was getting out of bed, she suddenly gagged.

Luan Mingrui, who was putting on his shoes, glanced back at her. “What’s wrong?”

“If I’m pregnant, what should we name our child?” Liang Chengmin, being a doctor herself, had suspected she was pregnant a few days earlier, but she hadn’t bothered to confirm it.

“?” Luan Mingrui’s heart skipped a beat, though he thought it was too soon. Still, he gave it some thought. “How about ‘Luan Nian’?”

“Why?”

“It sounds nice.”

Sure enough, Liang Chengmin was pregnant. She calculated the dates and realized it must have happened on the day they reconciled. That day had felt special to her, full of abundance.

Throughout her pregnancy, Liang Chengmin suffered from constant nausea—a rarity, as most women stop vomiting after the third month. But she continued to vomit even after that. Anything she ate would come right back up.

The pregnancy drained her completely, leaving her looking gaunt and frail.

While other pregnant women gradually gained weight, Liang Chengmin remained thin everywhere except her growing belly.

Luan Mingrui was heartbroken. He secretly resented the baby. Sometimes, unable to contain his frustration, he pointed at Liang Chengmin’s stomach and muttered, “Just wait until you come out—I’ll show you!”

“How can you say that? Your mother went through so much carrying you. Can’t you stop causing trouble?”

As if in protest, the baby kicked inside her.

Liang Chengmin looked at him and said, “I have a feeling this child might have a bit of a temper.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes when you scold him, he gets upset.”

“What does he know?”

Luan Mingrui pitied her and asked what she wanted to eat. She replied, “Shrimp.”

So Luan Mingrui rolled up his sleeves and prepared shrimp for her. Worried she might grow tired of it, he experimented with different recipes. The Luan family, from top to bottom, were all particular people, and Luan Mingrui was no exception. His cooking had to be perfect in color, aroma, and flavor—like crafting a work of art.

To prepare the shrimp, he first removed the veins, steamed them halfway, and then stir-fried them in oil. The vibrant color of the stir-fried shrimp was stunning, and he paired it with a side of stir-fried greens and a glass of milk.

In the south, osmanthus flowers were preserved when possible. If they could get their hands on fresh milk, the children could enjoy delicious osmanthus-infused milk.

Luan Mingrui made osmanthus milk for Liang Chengmin, and she absolutely loved it.

During Liang Chengmin’s pregnancy, Luan Mingrui stopped traveling for work. He stayed to take care of her. Every morning, he woke up early to make breakfast, sent her off to work after she ate, then headed to the warehouse. By ten o’clock, he rushed home to prepare lunch. He meticulously balanced nutrition, packing the meals in ceramic containers to bring to the hospital. He ate with her, chatted briefly, and then left. He handled paperwork at various departments, oversaw shipments at the warehouse, and instructed Luan Mingcheng on what to do. Finally, he returned to the hospital to pick her up after work.

Not a single day was missed.

The hospital staff teased them whenever they saw them together: “Look at them, so sweet!”