My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 83: Girls' concerns

Back at home.

Xu Qing didn't keep chatting incessantly with Jiang He, and she didn’t turn on her computer to play games. Instead, she clutched the stuffed bear and went to her room, lost in thought.

“Meow~”

Winter Melon hadn’t eaten all day. When the two of them left early in the morning, they’d forgotten to give it cat food. Now, it was starving and rubbing desperately against Xu Qing’s pant leg.

Ever since Jiang He arrived, Winter Melon had never been neglected like this. It was always fed on schedule.

“Hungry?” Xu Qing, the instigator, shook the bag of cat food. “Meow one more time if you want to eat.”

Hearing Winter Melon meow incessantly, he finally tore the bag open and poured a generous amount into its bowl. Watching it eat happily, he turned back to his desk, booted up his computer, and logged into his UP account to do some work.

He wasn’t worried about Jiang He’s mood. It was just the usual girl stuff—confusion over feelings. Besides, she was clueless when it came to romance, probably at the same level he was in fifth grade.

Back then, he spent his days collecting Little Raccoon snack cards to complete the 108 Heroes set. The origami stars his deskmate gave him? He promptly handed those to Qin Hao to play with. Years later, he regretted it deeply. Damn, if I’d kept those, I could’ve given them to a girl I liked. Just say I folded them myself—what a killer move that would’ve been!

Jiang He was equally clueless. She felt a natural urge to get closer when she liked someone, but fear held her back.

She needed a little push. Maybe if things were spelled out clearly, she’d think it through and end up sneaking into his bed at night…

Yeah, right. Dream on.

The long winter night descended early. The living room was pitch dark, the only light coming from the computer screen, casting a pale glow on Xu Qing’s face.

Winter Melon, full and satisfied, curled up near the radiator, which was warmer than Jiang He’s lap.

Time slipped by unnoticed.

It wasn’t until after 8 PM that Xu Qing finished his work. He had put together a compilation of classic wuxia confessions: “The wind and rain have battered us for five hundred years” from Sword Rain, “I want to be with you” from Li Mubai, and “Let’s forget each other in the jianghu” from Flying Swords of Dragon Gate…

Though winter had just begun, spring was already blooming in his heart.

He stood up and turned on the living room light. The apartment was eerily quiet. He glanced at the clock and frowned.

Where’s dinner? Where’s she?

Knock, knock, knock.

Xu Qing knocked on Jiang He’s door. After a moment, she opened it, wearing a sweater, her hair slightly disheveled, eyes still drowsy.

“Were you sleeping?” he asked, surprised. She looked like she’d just woken up.

“Yeah, I took a nap.”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Maybe a little…” Jiang He rubbed her eyes, glanced at the clock in the living room, and suddenly woke up. “Why is it so late?!”

“You’re not sick, are you?”

Xu Qing reached out to touch her forehead. Jiang He instinctively leaned back, but stopped herself, letting his hand touch her forehead.

“I’m just a bit sleepy. I’ll go make dinner now.”

“Forget it. You rest. If you’re not feeling well, let me know. Drink some water.” Xu Qing felt her forehead, decided she was fine, and waved her off. “Want noodles? I’ll cook two bowls.”

Jiang He rested her hand on her stomach and stayed silent, watching him search for the kettle and turn it on to boil water, then head to the kitchen.

“If you don’t want noodles, I can order takeout. Want some?” Xu Qing poked his head out of the kitchen and asked again.

“Yes.”

“Alright, give me a minute. You can lie down for a bit if you want.”

The kitchen filled with the sounds of pots and pans clanging, water running, and the electric stove beeping as the water boiled.

Jiang He hugged her lukewarm hand warmer, plugged it in to charge, then sat on the couch, staring blankly at the steaming kettle.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” Xu Qing asked.

She was too quiet. That wasn’t normal.

“I feel fine.”

“???”

Meeting Xu Qing’s puzzled gaze, Jiang He thought for a moment and said, “I just dreamed of Second Boss.”

“What did she say? Did she tell you to marry me?”

“No, she said potatoes are delicious.” Jiang He instinctively reached into her pocket, only to remember her coat was hanging by the door. Her sweater didn’t have pockets, so she let her hand drop.

Xu Qing chuckled. Dreaming about Second Boss and feeding her potatoes?

“And then?” he asked.

“And then… she said you’re a good person.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Alright then. I just got handed a ‘good person’ card across a thousand years, straight from the void… and in a dream, no less.

“Drink some hot water. It helps with… stuff.”

Once the water boiled, Xu Qing poured her a cup and pushed it over. He had a pretty good idea what was going on but said nothing, heading back to the kitchen to check on the noodles.

Nothing I can do to help. Just eat, drink, and sleep it off.

Before long, he brought out two steaming bowls of noodles, each topped with a poached egg and sprinkled with chopped scallions. The smell was mouthwatering.

“Want garlic?” Xu Qing held up two cloves.

Noodles without garlic lose their soul. And if one person eats it and the other doesn’t, the relationship loses its soul. They either both eat or both refuse.

“Yes.”

“I’ll share one with you.” Xu Qing tossed a clove into her bowl, his mood lifting.

She likes garlic? Good girl.

“This stuff leaves a smell, but if we both eat it, neither of us will mind,” he said.

“What’s the point if there’s no smell?”

Jiang He slurped her noodles, the warmth driving away the post-nap chill. Her whole body relaxed.

Satisfied.

“No, I mean it makes your breath smell.”

“Isn’t that even better?”

“…”

Xu Qing gave up trying to explain. Food was for eating. If Jiang He didn’t care, then all was right with the world.

They leaned over their bowls, eating with more gusto than they had the grilled meat at lunch. Hunger made everything taste better. They finished every last drop.

“I’ll wash up. You keep resting… maybe take a bath before bed.”

Stopping Jiang He from cleaning up, Xu Qing picked up his ringing phone. It was Wang Zijun.

The computer must be ready. Li Gaobo was efficient—if he said today, it wouldn’t drag to tomorrow, unless Wang Zijun had been busy.

“Hello, Qingzi! You’re fast…”

Sure enough, Wang Zijun was thrilled.

“I just ran a benchmark. This setup’s way better than my old one. Your friend’s awesome! He even hooked me up with some hacks…”

While Wang Zijun babbled, Jiang He gave up on cleaning up and went to the computer, ready to play a game.

With a belly full of hot noodles, she was rejuvenated.

She glanced at Xu Qing on the couch, hesitated, then opened Baidu in a minimized window.

“Difference between dependence and liking.”

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