DXXZL - 74

During high school, Zhu Xingyao always thought Jiang Tu was cold and aloof. It was hard for her to imagine what he would be like if he were ever in a relationship. She doubted he would say “I like you,” let alone “I love you.”

Yet, Zhu Xingyao could feel the overwhelming love that Jiang Tu could no longer suppress. As he gently nibbled on her earlobe, both her ears and heart tingled with sensation.

“Tu Ge...”

Zhu Xingyao’s body trembled slightly. She turned around and hugged him tightly. She remembered Li Xixi’s words: “I love you” was something men liked to say most when they were intimate. But she felt more than just Jiang Tu’s emotional affection—he always restrained himself whenever he kissed her.

Her face flushed as she leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Do you want to collect your birthday present early?”

Jiang Tu looked down at her, his gaze silent and controlled. He didn’t explain that the birthday gift he had originally wanted was marriage. Instead, he lifted her up and placed her gently on the sofa. Cupping her face, he smiled with a hint of helplessness. “Xingyao, I didn’t travel thousands of miles just for this.” His long fingers combed through her hair as he murmured softly, “You have orchestra practice tomorrow and a performance to prepare for. If we do anything, it might affect you. Besides, I left without making any arrangements and can’t stay long—I have to leave tomorrow. I don’t want you to look back on our first time like this—waking up from nightmares, unable to find me, and not being able to reach me immediately when you call.”

Zhu Xingyao gazed up at him, her beautiful face glowing like stars in the night sky.

She had never endured hardship or fatigue in her life; wherever she went, she shone like a bright star. Meeting Jiang Tu might have been her trial, as she experienced countless emotions because of him. Still, she believed that the luckiest thing in her life was meeting him.

The two walked hand in hand on the foreign streets, with Zhu Xingyao leading Jiang Tu to a nearby restaurant for dinner.

That night, Jiang Tu took the pill bottles from her suitcase and examined them carefully. Not familiar with the medications, he reached for his phone to search for information. However, Zhu Xingyao quickly snatched both the pills and his phone, offering an explanation on her own initiative.

Jiang Tu held her close, whispering, “Don’t take these anymore. If you have nightmares in the future, call me.”

Zhu Xingyao looked up at him. “And then?”

Jiang Tu lowered his eyes. “I’ll soothe you back to sleep.”

Zhu Xingyao laughed, her radiant smile lighting up her face. “How will you do that? Sing to me?”

She had never heard him sing before.

“Do you even know how to sing?” she asked earnestly.

“I sang in kindergarten once.” Jiang Tu chuckled softly, pulling her into his arms. They lay together on the bed, and he embraced her from the side. “I’ll try, but if it sounds terrible, you can tell me to stop.”

Zhu Xingyao couldn’t stop laughing. She hadn’t felt this carefree and happy in a long time.

As it turned out, someone with such a pleasant voice couldn’t possibly sing badly.

After Jiang Tu returned to China, Zhu Xingyao still remembered how he had sung Mayday’s “Gentle” softly into her ear one night. His deep, melodious voice lingered in her memory:

________________________________________

At dawn, when loneliness draws near,

My heart feels lost, unclear,

Why does love’s beauty lie in solitude?

Let me give you my best love...

________________________________________

Another weekend came, and Jiang Tu went to Shu Xian’s house for dinner. After a long absence, Jiang Lu finally dared to show his face. The two brothers sat on the couch, and Jiang Lu teased with a mischievous grin, “Brother, do you know how popular you’ve become in my livestream recently? Every time I go live, people ask me to make you appear.”

Jiang Tu gave him a cold glance. “And you dare bring this up?”

Jiang Lu coughed awkwardly and scratched his head. “What’s the big deal? Everyone knows about it now—it’s all written in a book. Practically everyone around me and my livestream fans have read it. I’ve also heard that some companies want to buy the film rights, but Lin Jiayu hasn’t agreed yet. I think she’s scared you’ll get mad.”

The book Waiting for Stars had gained immense popularity, attracting numerous offers from film companies eager to purchase its adaptation rights.

Although Zhu Xingyao had already told Lin Jiayu to handle the book however she wished, Lin Jiayu remained cautious. She only agreed to collaborate with the publishing editor and rejected tempting offers from film companies.

Jiang Tu frowned. “You’ve read it too?”

“Yeah,” Jiang Lu replied with a chuckle, followed by a dismissive hum. “Lin Jiayu has no taste. What’s so great about secretly admiring Lu Ji?”

Jiang Tu shrugged indifferently. “That’s her business.”

Lin Jiayu’s reluctance to sell the film rights wasn’t solely due to concerns about Jiang Tu but also about Lu Ji.

The aroma of braised pork ribs wafted from the kitchen. After a moment, Jiang Lu said, “Sister-in-law is performing abroad right now, isn’t she? Mom’s been wanting to invite you both over for dinner for a while now. Last time, during her concert, Mom sat in the audience and didn’t even get to talk to her.”

Shu Xian had been longing for this for a long time, but their strained relationship made her hesitant to bring it up directly.

Jiang Tu fell silent for a moment, recalling Zhu Xingyao’s words. “Maybe another time.”

At eight o’clock in the evening, Jiang Tu got up and left. He drove to the People’s Hospital.

A day before Jiang Tu went to Dubai, he visited Ding Xiang in the hospital. He came once a week, and by now, the nurses seemed to recognize him. As soon as he arrived, a young nurse greeted him with a smile. In the ward, Ding Xiang was joking with his wife when another nurse opened the door and cheerfully announced, “Hey, your friend is here again!”

Ding Xiang asked, “Who?”

The nurse replied, “The handsomest one—the male lead from Waiting for Stars !”

As Jiang Tu approached the door, he overheard the comment and furrowed his brow. Ding Xiang spotted him and was deeply moved. “Tu Ge! Why are you visiting me again?”

Jiang Tu stood empty-handed. “Just passing by. Thought I’d check in.”

Ding Xiang’s wife quickly pulled a chair for him and asked with a smile, “Where’s Xingyao?”

“She’s still in Dubai. She’ll be back tomorrow night.” Jiang Tu nodded at her.

Ding Xiang recalled Jiang Tu’s previous words and grinned. “I’ve been recovering really well lately, Tu Ge. Don’t worry. By next month, I’ll definitely be able to help you with your birthday proposal.”

Jiang Tu sat down and glanced at Ding Xiang’s arm, which was still in a splint. “Let’s not rush the proposal. We can wait a little longer.”

Ding Xiang exclaimed, “Why?”

“Let’s wait a bit longer. No need to rush.”

Zhu Xingyao was afraid of pregnancy and childbirth, and Jiang Tu sensed she might not be ready for marriage yet. He wasn’t sure if proposing now would add psychological pressure to her. After all, they had already waited so many years.

Waiting a little longer wouldn’t hurt.

Whether they were married or dating, as long as they were together, it was all the same.

________________________________________

At ten o’clock in the evening, Jiang Tu entered the supermarket. He bought some daily necessities and a few bottles of soy milk that Zhu Xingyao loved. Standing by the checkout counter, he picked up a box, examined it briefly, and replaced it with another model.

Carrying his purchases upstairs, he entered the code to unlock the door.

The living room curtains were open, and faint neon lights filtered in from outside. Something about the house felt off. Jiang Tu switched on the light and noticed a pair of brown ankle boots with slight heels near the entrance.

He had seen Zhu Xingyao wear those boots in Dubai.

Jiang Tu froze. He glanced around the empty living room and noticed a pink thermos on the dining table—it belonged to Zhu Xingyao.

He placed the items on the foyer cabinet and headed toward the master bedroom.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, a dim light spilling through the crack. He gently pushed it open. The air inside was warm from the air conditioning. The lump under the covers shifted, and Zhu Xingyao’s tousled hair emerged as she sat up. She wore his pajamas, the oversized collar exposing her delicate collarbone.

Jiang Tu stood at the door, staring at her uncertainly.

Still half-asleep, Zhu Xingyao clutched the blanket and murmured softly, “Why are you coming home so late?”

“It should be me asking you—why did you come back early?” Jiang Tu walked over to the bed. His voice was hoarse as his slender fingers brushed her hair away from her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Zhu Xingyao looked up, kneeling on the bed and wrapping her arms around his neck. Jiang Tu bent down obligingly, and instead of answering his question directly, she said, “Tu Ge, change the password for the house. I guessed it on the first try. Now that Waiting for Stars is so popular, our birthdays are clearly stated in the book. If someone finds out your address and tries the password, they’ll get in. We might get robbed. You should change your phone password too.” She looked into his deep, dark eyes, suddenly feeling nervous, her voice growing softer. “I didn’t attend the orchestra’s celebration banquet. I changed my flight and came back early.”

She had struggled to fall asleep on the plane but had fallen asleep almost instantly in his bed, from seven to ten o’clock.

“What else?” he asked softly, his fingers threading through her hair and pressing against the back of her head.

Zhu Xingyao lowered her lashes, avoiding his gaze, and closed her eyes. “Nothing else...”

The next second, he leaned down and kissed her urgently.

Zhu Xingyao lost her balance and fell backward. The solid wooden headboard creaked, but Jiang Tu shielded her head. Though she didn’t hit it painfully, there was a loud thud. Jiang Tu looked down at her as Zhu Xingyao opened her eyes, her face flushed. Her gaze shimmered as she removed his glasses.

Jiang Tu kissed her again, his lips brushing against her delicate neck. He murmured, “Not going back tonight?”

“Mm...” Zhu Xingyao kept her eyes tightly shut, hugging his back and whispering, “My parents don’t know I’m back yet.”

Jiang Tu traced the necklace he had given her, which still hung around her neck. “Did you wear it during the performance?”

“Mm...” Zhu Xingyao opened her eyes, blushing as she glanced at him.

Jiang Tu released the pendant and straightened up. “Wait a moment.”

He quickly left the room. Zhu Xingyao, still dazed, realized they hadn’t bought essentials. Wrapping herself in the dark-colored blanket, her pale shoulders stood out starkly. To her surprise, Jiang Tu returned shortly, holding a small box.

The air conditioner buzzed softly as it circulated the air.

Zhu Xingyao was sensitive to the cold, so she had turned on the air conditioning since Jiang Tu’s house didn’t have underfloor heating. Now, she regretted it—the air grew thick and humid, almost suffocating. Her lashes were still damp from crying earlier. Opening her eyes, she looked at Jiang Tu. His eyes were bloodshot, his clean jawline tense, and his Adam’s apple bobbing with each breath.

Zhu Xingyao had never seen him like this before. Finding him incredibly sexy, she reached out to touch him, her fingertips damp with sweat.

Jiang Tu cupped her face, his voice thick with suppressed passion. “Xingyao, are you still uncomfortable?”

She was still in pain, but she didn’t want him to hold back.

So, she shook her head.

Pretending to be strong had consequences. When Zhu Xingyao’s head collided with the solid wooden headboard for the first time, she momentarily thought the bed might collapse. Jiang Tu shielded her head, first asking if she was hurt, then suggesting they replace the bed. When he carried her to the bathroom and saw the empty space, he added, “We should install a bathtub next time.”

Jiang Tu remembered the large bathtub in the bathroom of her old bedroom.

Exhausted, Zhu Xingyao rested her face against his chest and murmured softly, “No need...”

Night had fallen into deep silence.

When they returned to the room, Zhu Xingyao fell asleep almost instantly upon hitting the bed.

It wasn’t until noon the next day that Zhu Xingyao opened her eyes. She noticed the sheets and pillowcases had been changed—they were still dark-colored. Jiang Tu sat in the single armchair by the window. Turning to look at her, he rose and walked over.

She tried to sit up, but as soon as she moved, she winced and lay back down, gazing up at the ceiling.

Now she understood why Jiang Tu had said it might affect her performance. Her body felt completely out of control—her waist and legs didn’t feel like her own.

Jiang Tu, dressed in black sportswear, appeared refreshed. He leaned over the bed and whispered, “Still uncomfortable?”

What?

Zhu Xingyao struggled, clutching the blanket as she sat up. Frowning, she looked at him. “Tu Ge, last night… you were a bit excessive.”

Jiang Tu fell silent. Leaning in, he kissed the corner of her mouth. “Sorry. I’ve missed you for so many years.”

So, he had lost control.