My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 177: Reunion after a long separation

In the afternoon, Xu Qing put away the pliers and metal rings. With the casino closed for the May Day holiday and no stock charts to monitor, he turned to see if Jiang He was gaming. However, her computer sat quietly, untouched. Picking up his phone, Xu Qing noticed that Jiang He hadn’t sent any photos or shared her travel experiences. Feeling idle, he got up to stretch. The weather felt warm, so he opened the tightly shut window a crack, letting in fresh air to dispel the stifling atmosphere.

Sometimes people are strange—being idle every day feels fine, but when others have time off, you suddenly feel like doing something.

Xu Qing tinkered around and brought out the electric fan from the storeroom. He found a small wooden stand to elevate it and positioned it by Jiang He’s computer. After some thought, he pulled his couch over so that both of them could enjoy the fan’s breeze when it oscillated.

Clapping his hands in satisfaction, Xu Qing sat in Jiang He’s chair to test it out. By spinning halfway around, he could prop his legs on the couch, enjoying a half-reclined, relaxed posture. Only he found this enjoyable—Jiang He preferred sitting cross-legged.

Leaning back with half-closed eyes, Xu Qing opened Jiang He’s computer but paused, startled, at the login screen. It was password-protected.

“What does she take me for? Like I’d snoop through her browsing history?” Xu Qing huffed indignantly, shutting the computer down. Standing up, he rearranged the furniture, pushing the coffee table aside and moving the stools to the corners. The living room instantly felt more spacious.

Winter calls for a cozier arrangement, while summer benefits from a more open layout—it was something Xu Qing vaguely remembered reading somewhere. It did feel refreshing and even lifted his spirits.

He moved the potted ginger plant from beside the TV to the window for some fresh air, wiping its leaves with a yellowed rag. Just as he finished, he noticed an older woman and a younger woman walking by outside. As they got closer, he realized it was Jiang He, who turned her head and spotted him standing by the window.

She was carrying a small cactus no bigger than a fist, with a blue umbrella dangling from one finger and a shopping bag in her other hand. Clearly, her trip had been fruitful.

“Breathing fresh air.”

“Ugh, you’d die if you went outside to breathe it?” Aunt Cheng Yulan, noticing Xu Qing at the window, found his response ridiculous.

Though there was greenery outside, sitting indoors with a window cracked open seemed like a laughable compromise.

“If I can breathe by opening the window, why bother going out?” Xu Qing countered, wiping the leaves delicately. When he glanced up again, Jiang He and Aunt Cheng had turned away and were walking off.

Moments later, he heard the jangle of keys at the door. Jiang He entered, shut the door behind her, and placed the cactus on the table. After hanging her umbrella on a hook by the door, she surveyed the rearranged living room before explaining, “I saw some potted plants for sale. This little green one looked so pretty, but Aunt Cheng said cacti help block radiation. So, I spent eight yuan and bought it.”

She put down her bag, inspected the cactus from every angle, then set it on the small table Xu Qing used for his computer. “That’s why I got this,” she added.

Xu Qing scratched his head and, watching her fuss over the plant, couldn’t help but ask, “Do you even know what radiation is?”

“It’s invisible. Just the word sounds scary,” Jiang He replied, half-understanding after a quick Baidu search. The term seemed ominous enough to make her feel uneasy.

Xu Qing didn’t bother correcting her misconception about the cactus’s supposed anti-radiation properties. It was harmless enough, and she’d learn the truth if she ever cared to Google it again.

“What’s in that bag?” Xu Qing gestured to the shopping bag.

“Snacks. Peanut brittle, dried sweet potatoes, raisins…” Jiang He began pulling them out. They weren’t the neatly packaged supermarket variety but loose items likely bought from a street vendor’s cart. Aunt Cheng had been carrying a similar bag when Xu Qing saw her earlier.

Elderly people often enjoy dried sweet potatoes, nibbling on them slowly as they soften in the mouth. Xu Qing liked them too. After putting the ginger plant back in its spot, he grabbed a piece and tossed it into his mouth. Before he could say anything, Jiang He glared at him.

“You didn’t wash your hands!”

Realizing he’d been holding the old rag earlier, Xu Qing sheepishly went to wash up, muttering, “A little dirt doesn’t hurt anyone.”

The sweet potatoes, dark and sun-dried, were unmistakably homemade, not factory-produced with additives. Jiang He had hesitated to buy them but caved after Aunt Cheng bought a large quantity.

When Xu Qing returned, wiping his hands dry, he saw Jiang He savoring the dried sweet potato, her eyes narrowing in delight as if it had unlocked some hidden taste memory.

“You’re eating it like it’s a fine wine,” Xu Qing teased.

“Isn’t it delicious?” Jiang He was surprised. The unattractive snack had exceeded her expectations.

“It’s good, sure, but not that good,” Xu Qing admitted, popping another piece into his mouth. “We should’ve bought more. This would be great for snacking while gaming—it lasts forever in your mouth.”

“Next time, then,” Jiang He said, pulling out some raisins. Watching her, Xu Qing frowned.

“You’re not thinking of making a whole batch yourself and selling it, are you?”

“How did you know?!” Jiang He exclaimed, startled. Xu Qing seemed to read her mind more and more lately.

“I…uh…just a hunch. It’s definitely better than pickled vegetables as a snack.” Xu Qing shrugged. For many, dried sweet potatoes were a nostalgic treat, a reminder of childhood. His grandmother used to carry them in her pocket, snacking on them leisurely.

“If you want to try selling these, go for it. But don’t expect me to help,” Xu Qing warned, tossing a handful of raisins into his mouth.

“Got it.”

“This won’t make much money, but if you can sell even a little, it’ll be a good learning experience.”

Jiang He didn’t reply, focusing instead on the raisin’s tangy sweetness. Unlike the sugary ones eaten during the New Year, these had a sharper, more refreshing taste.

“Open your mouth,” Jiang He said, holding a raisin.

Xu Qing, now back at the window, turned and opened his mouth. Jiang He tossed the raisin across the room, landing it perfectly.

“That’s fun!” Xu Qing laughed. “Throw me a sweet potato next.”

“Open up.” Another piece sailed across the room.

“Anything else?” Jiang He asked, holding up a piece of peanut brittle.

“No, thanks.”

“Not eating anymore?”

“This feels like feeding a dog.”

“Pfft!” Jiang He choked, laughing uncontrollably.

“One last one,” she insisted.

“I’m done.”

“Come on, open up!”

Reluctantly, Xu Qing opened his mouth, letting her toss another piece in. Jiang He swayed her hair with a playful smirk, an indescribable feeling rising within her.

Past, present, future—the boundaries blurred as Xu Qing sat there, waiting for her as if destined. The man by the window felt like fate itself.

“I’m going to cook,” Jiang He said, popping a raisin into her mouth and standing up.

“Mm.”

Xu Qing leaned on the windowsill, watching the twilight descend. The streetlights hadn’t yet turned on, and the cool evening breeze was refreshing.

Instead of heading to the kitchen, Jiang He silently approached him from behind, startling him.

“You walk so quietly!”

“Hug me.”

“Uh?”

Xu Qing hesitated, then awkwardly pulled her into an embrace. Jiang He closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gazed up at him.

“If I get an ID card, can we get married?”

The world’s encounters are reunions after long separations—now, she finally understood what that meant.

The living room lights remained off, but Xu Qing could see her eyes sparkling.

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