Chapter 111: Are You Even a Man?

“Who’s so impatient? It never ends,” came a voice thundering up the stairs. A figure dashed noisily to the halfway landing, his distinct Northeastern accent ringing out. Tilting his head back and squinting suspiciously, he muttered, “It’s already nearly the middle of the night. Which daughter-in-law and which son-in-law have forgotten to bring someone home?”

“Hey! I’m talking to you! What are you banging on the door for at this hour?” The man caught Yuwen Si’s sidelong glance, but Yuwen Si ignored him completely, raising his hand and pounding on the door with even greater force, showing no sign of stopping. Frustrated, the man shouted again.

Damn it. Now even some reckless twenty-something brat dared to yell at Yuwen Si. The man was unparalleled in his wisdom and authority, always the one doing the shouting, never the one being shouted at. But thanks to this Ma Xijun, he’d experienced everything he never thought possible—eight generations’ worth of impossible encounters.

“Hey, you little punk,” Yuwen Si growled, waving a clenched fist at the kid in the stairwell. He was certain that if anyone dared to push him further, he’d storm downstairs and smack some sense into him.

What a nuisance.

“Hey, Ma Xijun… you stubborn girl,” Yuwen Si grumbled, lawless and unruly as ever. Though he was brimming with official authority, he had nowhere to exercise his power.

Frustrated, he kicked at Ma Xijun’s door a few more times. “Ouch… damn it…”

* * * * *

Night deepened, painting the sky with a warm, rose-colored glow.

Shen Yanlie stood by the window, smoking one cigarette after another.

Suddenly, he crushed the cigarette in his hand, grabbed the coat draped over the sofa’s edge, and strode swiftly downstairs.

Opening the car door, his tall, slender figure was sharply outlined under the moonlight—imposing yet profoundly lonely.

* * * * *

The following morning, Ma Xijun woke with a slight frown. She hadn’t slept well despite a long flight the day before. Exhausted as she was, she had hoped to sleep soundly, but the night brought no pleasant dreams—only a restless fatigue as if she had been tossing through a chaotic dream all night. She could feel the weariness deep in her bones but couldn’t recall a single detail of her dreams.

Rubbing her eyes, Ma Xijun realized she wasn’t accustomed to such exhaustion—it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

Before rising, a delicious aroma caught her attention. When she entered the living room, she found a table full of dishes—and, to her surprise, Yuwen Si sat at the head of the table. He didn’t look well; an IV needle was still inserted in his hand.

Thinking this over, Ma Xijun slowly made her way to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down, eyeing the food that bore the unmistakable mark of someone’s handiwork. Just as she questioned this and glanced toward the kitchen, a figure appeared carrying a freshly made pot of soup, walking toward her.

Ma Xijun was puzzled but no one offered an explanation. When she looked at Yuwen Si, he quickly turned his head away and began to eat.

“I’m going to wash my face. You guys eat first,” Ma Xijun said, standing up without lingering and heading to the bathroom.

Yuwen Si watched her odd behavior with a helpless shake of his head. Damn it. His situation now was more intense than winning five million in the lottery. After spending the night at her doorstep, he had caught a fever—how tragic.

Fortunately, Shen Yanlie, who had climbed in through the window in the middle of the night, had found him curled up in a corner when he went out to buy groceries in the morning. Yuwen Si looked utterly miserable, like a stray cat dragged out of a junkyard.

Shen Yanlie knew Ma Xijun always locked her door at night, so he hadn’t even tried the front door but had climbed through the window instead. Otherwise, Yuwen Si wouldn’t have been stuck outside all night.

As Shen Yanlie stepped outside, he paused after only a few steps, lost in thought. Then he slowly turned back.

Yuwen Si, weak and exhausted, wrapped tightly in his coat, looked pale and unwell. His appearance made him seem like some stray animal recently pulled from the streets.

“What are you doing squatting there?” Shen Yanlie asked, clearly baffled.

“I… I… they…” Yuwen Si pointed shakily toward Ma Xijun’s neighbors, his voice trembling. Damn, he had been scolded!

“You can’t even finish a sentence,” Shen Yanlie bent down slightly, looking down at the pitiful creature beneath him with a kingly air.

Yuwen Si rolled his eyes helplessly, but when he realized even such a small motion sapped his energy, he pleaded, “I’m freezing… help me.”

The word “help” barely left his mouth before Shen Yanlie burst into laughter, utterly unreserved. Yuwen Si clenched his teeth and opened his mouth to retort but couldn’t utter a word. The situation was hopeless.

Shen Yanlie bent one knee, a teasing smile playing on his lips, bringing them nearly to eye level. “Who’s going to pity you?”

Waiting for Ma Xijun? She was fast asleep, completely unaware of when he had entered her home. Would she have time to feel sorry for Yuwen Si?

“Has your conscience been eaten by a dog?” Yuwen Si snapped, using Shen Yanlie’s favorite retort to vent his frustration, though his tone lacked its usual bravado. After all, Ma Xijun was Shen Yanlie’s woman. What was he doing meddling here, waiting outside her door till dawn? Now he was stiff and frozen.

He couldn’t believe how much colder the night air was compared to daytime—it was deadly cold. To put it bluntly, Yuwen Si was practically asking for a beating. If two words and a punctuation mark could describe it, the most fitting would be: “Serves you right.”

Ma Xijun lingered in the bathroom far longer than usual. Shen Yanlie, growing concerned, rose and pursed his lips, raising his hand tentatively.

As Ma Xijun opened the door, Shen Yanlie’s hand paused mid-air.

Her face—never tiring to behold—held a tenderness that made him greedier for her, yearning to possess her forever.

“Why so long?” Shen Yanlie asked, frowning slightly. His tone lacked reproach, instead filled with concern and care.

“No reason, I’m just slow,” Ma Xijun smiled lightly as she brushed past him. Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, mirroring her restless heart.

Her period was nearly two weeks late. Though her cycles were never very regular—after all, she was young, busy, and under constant stress, which could easily disrupt her hormones and delay her period by a few days—this time brought nausea along with it. That forced Ma Xijun to worry.

“Don’t open the door for me, you stubborn girl.”

*Slap.*

With a sharp sound, Yuwen Si’s left hand, clutching a spoon, smacked Ma Xijun’s forehead. His right hand was inconveniently occupied with the IV needle. Serves him right.

“Ouch! You…” Ma Xijun rubbed her forehead where he had hit her. When did Yuwen Si become such a ‘jerk’?

Shen Yanlie sat down silently opposite her, pulling out a chair. These two seemed like sworn enemies, constantly at each other’s throats.

“Why won’t you open the door for me?” Yuwen Si persisted, relentless as ever, clearly unwilling to give up. After all, he genuinely wanted Ma Xijun to come back. He wanted to spar with her, to make life thrilling and flavorful.

But when he smacked her and she calmly responded with just a single word—“You”—followed by a string of ellipses, it was a blatant display of disdain and contempt toward Yuwen Si.

“Why should I open the door for you?” she replied coldly. Why should she? Though he had helped her before, that didn’t mean she’d blindly let him in. Besides, she couldn’t quite understand these two—one was a gatekeeper, the other a fence jumper.

“The person I asked to find you will arrive this afternoon. Eat quickly and get out,” Shen Yanlie said bluntly, ignoring everyone else and focusing on his meal.

Ma Xijun shook her head helplessly. These two were both insufferable, each with their own tricks.

One thing was certain: Yuwen Si was notorious for playing dirty behind people’s backs. Ma Xijun had witnessed it herself. She always thought he was helping, only to find herself pushed deeper into trouble. When they were less familiar, she once bluntly insulted Yuwen Si, and his face darkened completely.

Now, Yuwen Si had changed his tune toward Ma Xijun—whether that was a good or bad thing, she wasn’t sure.

“Alright, alright,” Yuwen Si grumbled impatiently.

After eating, Yuwen Si signaled Ma Xijun to help remove the IV needle. She reflexively glanced at Shen Yanlie, who paid them no mind.

“Lie is afraid of needles and blood. You better take it out,” Yuwen Si explained, seemingly sensing Ma Xijun’s hesitation. This earned him a sharp glare from Shen Yanlie, who seemed ready to tear him apart. Yuwen Si, sensing danger, wisely shut his mouth.

Shen Yanlie cleared his throat, but Ma Xijun couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Afraid of needles and fainting at the sight of blood—was he even a man?

Shen Yanlie shot her a fierce glare. Ma Xijun met it for just a second, lips twitching with a smile. Fine, even the toughest men had their delicate sides.