Chapter 18: He Carried Her Home on His Back
A tenderness and warmth beyond words filled Liang Youyun’s heart, accompanied by an even deeper sense of guilt. Yet she rested comfortably on Jiang Muhe’s back as if it were a plush, inviting bed, ready to drift into a peaceful sleep.
Suddenly, a question occurred to her: “Why five times? I just counted, and it was four.”
Muhe smiled. “Five times.”
“Did I miss one of those times?”
“The day you argued with Zhang He, on your way back from my place, I saw you. You were crying.”
Youyun seemed to recall, then laughed self-deprecatingly, “Yes, I’m always so conflicted, so… disappointing.”
“It’s because you’re kind,” he corrected.
Zhang He indeed called; Youyun answered, and faced with his barrage of anxious worries, she simply smiled, saying, “I’m safe, very, very safe.”
She didn’t mention being with Jiang Muhe; doing so would surely prompt Zhang He to probe relentlessly, the mere thought of which gave her a headache.
Listening to their conversation, Jiang Muhe thought to himself how wonderful it would be if she could speak to him just as naturally and directly. He wished that when she was by his side, she wouldn’t feel so constrained, but could chat and joke comfortably.
The night breeze carried a slight chill, while a bright, full moon hung in the sky.
They had already left the riverbank and were walking along a country path when huge banana leaves stretched out into the middle of the road, brushing past Youyun’s head.
“So you still don’t plan to put me down?” she asked softly; at such close range, she was afraid of disturbing him.
“No, I don’t.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Not tired.”
Youyun smiled, really wanting to hurl a string of curses; if it were Zhang He beneath her, she would surely have said, “Serves you right for working yourself to death!”
But, it was Jiang Muhe.
Youyun asked again, “Did you smoke? You smell like tobacco.”
Jiang Muhe responded slowly, “…I had a few cigarettes.”
Youyun said, “Smoking is bad for your lungs and will stain your teeth.”
Jiang Muhe replied, “Then I won’t smoke anymore.”
He obeyed so readily, like an innocent child unaware of the world’s complexities. This gradually eased Youyun’s defenses, making her willing to let him hear her true feelings.
“Actually, back at the Riverbank Bar, I couldn’t bring myself to face you. I pretended to be cold and ignored you… but that wasn’t how I truly felt. I didn’t want you to feel awkward or think you were insignificant to me. I wanted you to know that you are my friend too—and not just some ordinary friend.”
Jiang Muhe stopped in his tracks upon hearing this. Facing the pitch-black night ahead, he took a deep breath. The frustration, unease, and sorrow that had long festered in his heart seemed to release all at once, transforming into nocturnal spirits that scattered into the darkness…
After a long while, Jiang Muhe hesitated before asking, “Is what they said true?”
Youyun’s eyes were hazy as she murmured vaguely, “What are you talking about…”
“Hmm… you’ve had many… boyfriends.” Jiang Muhe felt a strong pang of jealousy.
But the person behind him didn’t answer.
Jiang Muhe thought she was angry, or simply didn’t want to talk about it.
He feared that the friendship they had worked so hard to repair might break again, and even more, he dreaded that after this, there might never be another chance.
She could only apologize: “If this question made you uncomfortable, it’s my fault. I… I was just curious about what kind of people they were, what kind of person you like… Even though it’s in the past, some things never change, such as…”
He stopped there, hearing the shallow breathing of the person on his back—steady, slow, and prolonged, bringing a sense of peace.
When Liang Youyun opened her eyes, it was already late morning the next day.
That sleep had been incredibly comforting, like returning to childhood and lying on the large bed in her old home. She even had a beautiful dream, filled with many highlight moments of her life: topping her exams, her parents celebrating her birthday, winning the grand prize at the annual company gala, successfully securing a major project… She was certain she had woken up with a smile.
She took a deep breath. Today’s quilt smelled so wonderful! A deeply calming fragrance, one that made her want to keep inhaling it again and again, one that—wait, this wasn’t her quilt!!!
Liang Youyun jolted upright in panic, the scene before her nearly making her jaw drop.
Everything was unfamiliar: wooden furniture, leather sofas, wool carpets, and various exquisite ornaments—this was definitely not her home!
“Huh?” she uttered in confusion, racking her brain to recall what had happened yesterday. Only then did she piece it together: this must be Jiang Muhe’s house.
A chill ran down her spine. She quickly looked down at herself; the dress she’d worn yesterday was still on. Lifting the blanket to peek underneath—thank goodness, her undergarments were still there too.
Only Jiang Muhe was absent.
She got out of bed and noticed her shoes neatly placed beside the wardrobe, while a pair of disposable white slippers rested at her feet.
Looking out the window, she became even more certain that this was Jiang Muhe’s home; she had visited the courtyard before and still remembered its beauty vividly.
It seemed he had carried her back home.
Such a long journey, carrying someone so heavy—how did he manage to persevere?
Youyun descended the stairs with light steps and spotted Jiang Muhe in the open kitchen on the first floor. With his back turned to her, he stood by the island counter, shoulders hunched, gripping a knife in his right hand and chopping something with steady, forceful strokes.
Dressed in simple homewear, he appeared deeply focused, unaware of anyone behind him.
Youyun sat down on the staircase, resting her cheek against her hand, quietly admiring the sight of him cooking.
It must be rice noodles. People in Xishuangbanna start their day with them. You can buy the noodles in the village and then add your own toppings at home: cilantro mixed with finely chopped bird’s eye chilies, stewed tomatoes, scallions, mint leaves, and a squeeze of lime juice, topped with either beef or a fried egg. That makes for a delicious and authentic Dai-style breakfast.
Jiang Muhe seemed to thoroughly enjoy the cooking process; there was no hint of fluster or haste in his movements, only the calm assurance of someone who cooks regularly.
He turned around, placed the prepared shredded chicken cold rice noodles and beef rice noodles on the table, then looked up and offered Liang Youyun, who was sitting on the steps, a gentle smile. “How much longer are you going to watch?”
Youyun burst out laughing. “I knew you’d spotted me long ago!”
She went downstairs, approached the table, and asked sheepishly, “Why didn’t you wake me? And why did you bring me to your home?”
Jiang Muhe stood with his hands on his hips, looking at her tired face before frowning. “You were sleeping so soundly; I couldn’t wake you.”
“That must have been so hard for you! Carrying me all the way here, and then getting up early to make breakfast.”
He looked at her and sighed, “Well, someone said last night that I wasn’t just an insignificant friend to her.”
“I… did I say that?” Youyun felt a bit embarrassed. It must have been the atmosphere, or perhaps the alcohol, that made someone as straightforward as her utter such sentimental words.
Jiang Muhe looked at her, a smile lighting up his eyes, and pointed to the two bowls of rice noodles on the table. “Which one would you like?”
Youyun chose the cold rice noodles. After washing her hands and face in the bathroom, she returned to find an extra dish of shredded green papaya salad, dried beef, and a pitcher of lime water added to the table.
As they ate and chatted, it felt strangely natural; Liang Youyun felt none of the usual拘束 one experiences in someone else’s home. She attributed this ease to the harmonious decor, noting also that her previous sense of distance toward Jiang Muhe had vanished, even though she still knew very little about him.
“Why does your quilt smell so wonderful?” She remembered it vividly.
Jiang Muhe sipped his soup, thinking that perhaps this wasn’t even a question for him; it was simply life as he had always known it.
“I occasionally infuse my bedding with fragrance.”
“Using aromatherapy?”
“Incense burner,” he added. “A traditional method.”
“No wonder I slept so soundly.”
“For a long time, my sleep was extremely poor; I’d lie awake all night. Not wanting to rely on medication, I tried the ancients’ approach and found it quite effective. At the very least, it calms the mind and stops runaway thoughts.”
“You… have runaway thoughts at night?” Youyun ventured cautiously. He seemed like such a composed person. Still, she suspected it had something to do with his former comrades-in-arms.
“Occasionally.” He continued eating without elaborating.
After finishing the meal, Youyun offered to help with the dishes, but Jiang Muhe declined, suggesting she take a casual stroll around the house instead.
Youyun didn’t stand on ceremony and proceeded to explore both floors.
She noticed a spacious room on the second floor, where lush greenery thrived outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, exuding vitality. Inside, various fitness equipment was arranged, with a rowing machine prominently positioned at the center beneath the window.
Yesterday, Feng Duo said that walking and running were his way of resting; he probably meant that compared to his regular training, walking and running were nothing at all.
Youyun went down to the first floor, where Jiang Muhe had already tidied up the kitchen and was drying his hands with a white towel. He walked over too, following behind Youyun.
Youyun paused in front of the side table, on which sat several picture frames of various sizes.
She noticed the largest one in the center: a photo of Jiang Muhe with another man, both dressed in camouflage uniforms, holding rifles and wearing helmets.
For some reason, Youyun felt that the man in the photograph was Jiang Muhe’s fallen comrade.
“That’s Yan En.” Jiang Muhe pulled over two bar stools, pushing one toward Youyun and keeping the other for himself. Sitting beside the side table just as he usually did, he gazed at the photo, lost in thought for a moment.
“Yan En is your parents’ son, isn’t he?” Youyun didn’t take the stool. She wanted to look carefully at each photograph one by one. Perhaps she was more interested in Jiang Muhe’s experiences than in the man himself!
“Mm.” He lowered his head, looking at his hands resting between his knees, and began recounting that past story in a tone that wasn’t overly heavy.
“Yan En enlisted three years after I did; I was his team leader. In our unit, Yan En was the best support, always by my side. When I broke through enemy lines, he provided cover; when I parachuted, he followed close behind. Whether during squad training or actual combat, we were always together. Yan En was not only highly skilled but also pure-hearted and had a wide range of interests. I had never met anyone so clean-cut and interesting. I envied him, especially for having parents who loved him so deeply.”
“He said that after retiring, he would return to his hometown to help his parents expand their sticky rice shop, ensuring they enjoyed a prosperous old age. He told me his hometown, Xishuangbanna, was incredibly beautiful, boasting the world’s most magnificent sunsets and the loveliest rainforest. He even invited me to come with him so his parents could adopt me as their godson. Unfortunately, at the time, I didn’t take it seriously.”
He laughed self-mockingly.
Youyun looked at him, feeling for the first time that his expression was so utterly defeated. His hair stood up in disarray, his eyebrows were thick, and when he lowered his eyes, his double eyelids became fully visible, casting a faint melancholy over his entire being.
“How did Yan En sacrifice himself?” Youyun asked.
Jiang Muhe looked up at her, then shifted his gaze back to the photograph. “During a hostage rescue operation,” he said, “the terrorists suddenly opened fire while negotiations were underway. The moment I heard the gunshot, I smashed through the window and rushed in; the rest of the team followed. Amidst a hail of bullets, I shielded the hostage and fought our way out. Just as we were nearing the safe zone, someone plummeted from an upper floor, strapped with explosives. Before I could react, just as I raised my weapon, I was shoved violently aside. It was Yan En. He used his own body to shield me, only to be torn apart by the blast.”
Neither of them spoke. Witnessing firsthand such a brutal sacrifice of a comrade had dealt him a devastating blow.
“I only realized afterward that I too had been hit; the pain came later. I spent six months recovering in a military hospital and underwent psychological rehabilitation, but I could never forget the moment Yan En sacrificed himself.
Later, I made the biggest decision of my life: to live my life as he would have.”
Youyun’s heart ached; she didn’t know how to comfort him, yet in that instant, she understood how he had endured those sleepless nights.
After a long pause, Jiang Muhe composed himself and smiled at Youyun, whose face was still clouded with sorrow. “Knowing too much isn’t good for you, is it? In truth, I never wanted you to share my pain. Moreover, as time has passed, I’ve gradually made peace with myself. I’m grateful to Yan’en and his parents—they let me experience genuine familial love, gave me work after my retirement, and brought joy back into my life. In reality, I am a beneficiary of life.”
“It’s good that you can think this way. But those years… they must have been incredibly hard, right?” Youyun stepped toward him, meeting his gaze.
Sitting on the stool, Jiang Muhe looked up slightly at Youyun and offered a faint smile. “It was manageable.”
They were very close.
Youyun hesitated before speaking, “…May I see your wound? The gunshot wound.”
Jiang Muhe paused, but then slowly rolled up his T-shirt, revealing a round scar near the edge of his left abdomen.
Youyun bent forward, bringing her eyes close to inspect it. She had never seen such a wound before; studying it carefully, she felt an indescribable ache in her heart.
Inexplicably, she reached out and touched that spot with her index finger.
Her cool fingertips pressed against his warm skin.
Jiang Muhe’s muscles instinctively contracted.
He forced his breathing to steady, swallowed hard, never expecting her to take the initiative and touch him.
Youyun traced the scar, her eyes welling with tears as she murmured to herself, “…It must have been so painful back then…” Then she looked up at him and asked, “How is it now? Does it affect your daily life?”
Jiang Muhe was taken aback. He glanced down at the site of the wound and chose his words carefully before replying, “It doesn’t affect anything. It healed long ago. It didn’t… damage the kidney.”
Youyun’s expression remained grave; her concern was genuine. She nodded and said, “That’s good, that’s good.”
Jiang Muhe rolled his T-shirt up a bit further, revealing a diagonal scar about seven centimeters long just below his chest. “This is from a knife wound,” he said. “I got it during an overseas counter-terrorism operation.”
Youyun’s fingertips moved upward, gently tracing the startling scar. She let out a soft sigh, her voice tinged with affectionate reproach. “…How could you be so careless?…Why do you always rush to the front…”
Jiang Muhe looked at her, a gentle triumph shining in his eyes.
He pulled the collar of his T-shirt open as wide as possible, exposing half of his shoulder, and pointed to a reddened area near the end of his collarbone. “Here too,” he said.
Youyun straightened up and leaned closer, following the direction of his hand. Unsure what kind of wound it was, she felt something hard beneath her touch. Suddenly suspicious, she looked up at him and asked, “Is this…?”
Jiang Muhe bit his lower lip, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face. “Mosquito bites.”
“…”
“You’re so annoying! So infuriating!”
Youyun never expected that even in such an emotional moment, he would still tease her. She punched him hard on the shoulder, and still feeling unsatisfied, she pushed against his chest. He effortlessly caught both her wrists, pleading softly, “Youyun… Youyun…”
“You are not allowed to waste my emotions like this again!”
Liang Youyun felt both angry and frustrated, furious at her own foolishness for letting him make her blush with embarrassment.
“Alright, I was wrong, I was wrong,” Muhe said with a smile.
Youyun laughed too, pulling her hand free from his grasp. Her laughter only grew stronger until she couldn’t stop, leaning against the side table as she laughed so hard she nearly ran out of breath. Shaking her head, she spoke to the photo frame containing Yan’en: “Yan’en, oh Yan’en, just look at what you saved!”