A Beloved Wife in Marriage

Jiang Yanshen’s heart ached because of her tears. The anger on his face faded and his heart ached. He coaxed her gently, “Don’t cry. Tell me if you feel uncomfortable, okay?”

It would have been better if he hadn’t said anything. The moment he opened his mouth, the tears that Lin Qingqian had locked in her eyes couldn’t help but flow out.

Her tears fell fiercely and heavily, as if they were thousands of kilograms of stones that smashed into Jiang Yanshen’s heart.

The man’s cold and slender fingers gently wiped away the tears on her face. “Qianqian, don’t cry, don’t cry…”

As he spoke in a low and hoarse voice, his long arms couldn’t help but reach out and pull her into his arms. He lowered his head and kissed her hair.

His actions were intimate and familiar.

Lin Qingqian didn’t know what was going on either. Her mind was blank, and her tears flowed uncontrollably like a broken tap.

Her nose was filled with his refreshing fragrance and the faint smell of alcohol. Everything in the past flashed through her mind like scenes in a movie.

There was sweetness, joy, bitterness, pain, and shame.

She thought that she could cut off all ties with this man soberly and completely dig him out of her heart, but she did not expect to be beaten back to her original state by a mere bottle of alcohol.

It was a habit that had been deeply rooted in her bones for seven years. Her subconscious and instinct were not something that she could wash away with just a few ruthless words or actions.

In front of Jiang Yanshen, she could only play the role of a clown forever. Just thinking about it made her despair, and her tears fell even more fiercely.

Jiang Yanshen didn’t know that she was thinking about what happened that night. Seeing that she kept crying, he coaxed her with all the gentleness in his life.

Then, he wiped her tears patiently.

Lin Qingqian cried until she had no strength left in her body and couldn’t speak. The temperature was getting colder and colder. Jiang Yanshen was afraid that she would catch a cold and fall sick, so he quickly carried her inside.

Along the way, Lin Qingqian leaned on his back and looked at the colorful fireworks above her head. Her teary eyes swept over the steep slope at the side and she thought: Is it too late to die now?

Jiang Yanshen carefully placed her on the rattan chair, turned around, and squatted down. His dark eyes carefully scanned her arms and feet. “Where does it hurt? Tell me, okay?”

Lin Qingqian was no longer crying, but her eyes were as red as a rabbit. She sniffed and shook her head.

Jiang Yanshen didn’t believe her and grabbed her left foot. Lin Qingqian was shocked and wanted to break free, but he held her even tighter.

Jiang Yanshen took off her short boots and socks and saw that her ankle was red and swollen. His cold brows were tightly furrowed. “Is there medicine at home?”

Lin Qingqian pursed her lips and said in a hoarse voice, “There’s safflower oil in the cabinet.”

She pointed at the cabinet in the living room.

Jiang Yanshen stood up and walked over. He pulled open the old cabinet door and found a bottle of safflower oil.

He turned around and squatted in front of her. He then poured some safflower oil into his palm and rubbed it to warm it. Then, he pressed his hands on her ankle.

Lin Qingqian was in so much pain that she wanted to retract her foot but Jiang Yanshen immediately grabbed her calf. “Bear with it, or it will swell even more tomorrow.”

His dark eyes looked up at her with warmth.

Lin Qingqian’s thin eyelashes trembled slightly, and she bit her lower lip tightly.

Jiang Yanshen didn’t want to exert force, but in order to make her suffer less tomorrow, he still hardened his heart and massaged her hard.

The palm that was stained with safflower oil rubbed her ankle with moderate strength. The heat from the friction made Lin Qingqian involuntarily choke up.

On one side was the pain in her ankle, and on the other side was an unknown emotion that coiled around her heart.

Half an hour later, Jiang Yanshen helped her put on her socks and shoes. “Don’t strain your left foot in the meantime. It should be fine tomorrow.”

Lin Qingqian sniffled and thanked him gloomily. She held the armrest of the chair and got up.

Jiang Yanshen’s brows moved slightly.. “What are you doing?”