Chapter 24: A Man Full of Substance—What a Captivating Creature!
The two of them wandered through the Starlight Night Market until late. On the ride back, Jiang Muhe asked Liang Youyun if she could stay in Jinghong for a few more days.
Youyun replied that she only had tomorrow free. Fearing he might insist on driving her home, she added that she would take the afternoon bus the next day and there was no need for him to see her off.
Although he felt she was being overly polite, Jiang Muhe said nothing.
Youyun admired Muhe’s managerial talents and asked, “How did you turn Yan’en’s small shop into a well-known chain?”
Jiang Muhe gripped the overhead handle with his right hand, gazing straight ahead, and replied, “By throwing money at it.”
“Huh?” Youyun couldn’t believe her ears; was he joking? She had expected him to talk about management strategies or market analysis. “You’re pulling my leg.”
“No, I just threw money at it.”
“Where did you get so much money?”
“All my savings, borrowing from friends, and getting an advance from my family.”
“Even though that got you enough funds, I still feel you must have your own management strategy, right?”
Jiang Muhe did not answer immediately. After a moment of thought, he said:
“Yan’en’s parents were always skilled at business; it was just that small-scale ventures rarely lead to great wealth. Coupled with the loss of their son, they had no heart left to ponder making money. But one must always look forward. Only after living with them for a while did I finally persuade them to pull themselves together. The defining feature of Yanshi is its adherence to tradition: no fusion cuisine, only authentic Dai flavors, even if some tourists find them unpalatable. But that doesn’t matter. Often, while it seems customers are choosing products, in reality, products must also choose their customers. Precision targeting is crucial.”
“It was very difficult at first. As more and more tourists arrived, high-demand customers inevitably sought us out. We brought the village’s flavors to the city, invested heavily in promotion, and saturated the market with our branding. Yanshi became an instant sensation. Then we launched gift sets and merchandise, improved our flower cakes, and partnered with coffee estates. We took off very quickly. I recall it took just over a year.”
“Impressive!” Youyun exclaimed in admiration.
Muhe smiled. “You could say we seized the right moment. That year, the government was vigorously supporting small and medium-sized enterprises, offering substantial incentives in ethnic minority regions. They needed model cases to set as examples, so Yanshi was put forward. Moreover, the business community here places great emphasis on loyalty and camaraderie; friendships matter more than anything else. With a dedicated team and an extensive network of relationships cultivated everywhere, doing business became much easier. Such an approach might not work nowadays, nor would it likely succeed in Beijing.”
The car soon entered the residential compound—a luxurious high-rise located in the city center. At the entrance stood a massive fountain, surrounded by flowers of every color. Lights illuminated the flowerbeds, casting vibrant hues, while nocturnal insects fluttered through the air. As the car wound its way among the blossoms, for a brief moment, Liang Youyun recalled a scene from Pandora in the movie Avatar, as if the plants and flowers here possessed their own spirit.
After parking the car, Muhe asked Youyun, “Would you like to come up for a while? Have something to drink, and then I’ll drive you back to your hotel.”
Youyun hesitated.
He smiled, watching her with interest: “It’s not like you’ve never been to my home before.”
True enough; at his other home, she had even slept in his bed.
Jiang Muhe’s house here in Jinghong wasn’t large; in his own words, it was just big enough for sleeping. Previously consumed by business, he had rarely left the company, only gradually delegating authority last year.
He plans to retain only a certain equity stake, leaving the rest to Yan En’s father and professional managers in the future.
There were no spare slippers at home, so Jiang Muhe told Youyun to just come in without taking off her shoes.
Youyun worried about dirtying the floor, but Muhe said it didn’t matter.
After washing his hands, Jiang Muhe headed to the kitchen to make lemonade. He sliced half a lime and squeezed the other half for its juice, then placed washed mint leaves into crystal glasses. “Sparkling water or mineral water?” he asked Youyun.
Leaning against the kitchen doorway, Youyun watched his tall figure from behind. “Sparkling water,” she replied.
“With ice?”
“Add ice.”
Muhe finished preparing it, placed it on the coffee table, and pointed toward the living room sofa: “Careful, it’s cold. Sit there to drink while I change clothes.”
Youyun took a few sips, feeling refreshed and revitalized, like a green plant nourished by water, its branches and leaves unfurling. She stretched lazily and strolled over to the balcony to enjoy the night view.
The building boasted an excellent location with sweeping vistas. Gazing down from over twenty floors, the structures and roads below transformed into a shimmering river of stars. The evening breeze brushed against her face, the moonlight carried a gentle intoxication, and the entire city seemed drunk, drifting ethereally, blurring the line between heaven and earth.
Youyun was so engrossed that she suddenly heard noises coming from the bedroom next door. The sounds were quite loud; could it be that the walls offered so little soundproofing?
Curious, she moved closer.
Only then did she realize that the balcony and the bedroom were connected, allowing her to walk directly into his room from here.
The bedroom door was open, the curtains undrawn. Several spotlights shone on Jiang Muhe, casting his silhouette onto the glass window. Youyun stood transfixed, watching from the unlit balcony where she remained hidden in the shadows, able to see the scene in the bedroom all the more clearly.
Jiang Muhe was changing clothes.
He unbuttoned his shirt one by one, then pulled it off by the sleeves, revealing his solid arms. Blue veins stood out prominently, snaking and rippling under the spotlights.
Having attended a business meeting earlier, he was still wearing a thin white tank top underneath. He grasped the hem with both hands and pulled it upward; in the blink of an eye, the perfectly sculpted muscles of his V-shaped back were fully exposed. Each muscle was just right, harmoniously arranged. With the slightest movement of his body, they tightened and relaxed in turn.
Only those who regularly train their backs have active back muscle groups; no wonder his posture is always so upright.
He bent over, unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his pants in one fluid motion.
The smooth fabric of his dress trousers slid directly onto the floor, leaving only his tight-fitting underwear.
Liang Youyun’s mouth was dry, her body tense.
Her sense of morality told her she should leave this place, yet curiosity rooted her to the spot, her eyes fixed unblinkingly as she watched him deal with that final piece of covering.
Jiang Muhe, however, slowed down. With his hand resting on the edge of his underwear, just before pulling it completely down and exposing his body, he turned around at precisely the right moment, leaving Liang Youyun with a dim, ambiguous view of his back.
Liang Youyun stood there, stunned. When the visual impact is too strong, one’s ability to think slows down. All she could think about were his movements, his face, the prominent Adam’s apple when he tilted his head back, the full pectoral muscles when he looked down… Ah, men! A man with substance—what a captivating creature!
She didn’t even dare to blink, afraid of missing the slightest detail.
She tried to keep her breathing steady and avoided swallowing too often, lest he notice.
After all, this was an utterly unexpected act of voyeurism.
Once he changed and stepped out of the bedroom, Liang Youyun hastily retreated from the balcony, plopped down onto the sofa, straightened her back, placed her hands on her knees, and pretended as if nothing had happened.
Muhe, wearing a bathrobe, approached her. Noting her reserved expression and the barely touched lemon water, he smiled and said, “Why so formal with me? Or would you prefer something hot? Shall I brew some Pu’er tea for you?”
“Oh, no need, this is fine; it tastes great!” Youyun replied with a polite smile, avoiding direct eye contact.
Muhe pointed toward the bathroom. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower? I’ve sweated a lot and really smell quite strong…”
“Not at all, go ahead, please do!”
Muhe sensed something was off with her but couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he decided to take a shower first.
The moment the rushing sound of water echoed from the bathroom, Youyun froze, guilt gnawing at her. The harder she tried to suppress that image, the more forcefully it broke free, as if deliberately defying her, tearing open the filthy corners of her heart.
She really wanted to slap herself for being so pathetic.
Wild, extravagant thoughts danced chaotically in her mind like demons. She gulped down a mouthful of lemon water and steeled herself mentally:
Liang Youyun, oh Liang Youyun! Earlier today at Manting Park, you were thinking about taking advantage of him; how is it that now, having secretly done so, you’re overwhelmed with guilt? You’re such a hypocrite! Life doesn’t allow you to have everything. Can you spend eternity with him? Can you stay here for him? Of course not! Your bright future lies in Beijing, your brilliant career is in Beijing—Beijing, Beijing, Beijing! Even if there really is something between you two, approaching it with a casual, playful attitude, what good would that do you? If he doesn’t take it seriously, fine; but what if he becomes persistently entangled? He’s a special forces soldier who has survived extreme conditions; subduing someone like you, little bean sprout, would be effortless for him. He could violently restrain you, control you, imprison you…
The more she thought about it, the more terrified she became. She even wondered how foolish she had been to come to his home in the first place—and in the middle of the night, no less!
However, she might not yet realize that within her own fantasies, this was merely some perverse desire at work.
The sound of running water ceased abruptly, followed immediately by the creak of the bathroom door opening, then the sound of his footsteps…
Oh my god! Her heart leaped into her throat.
“Youyun.”
“Huh!?”
Their eyes met, and Jiang Muhe looked startled. “…Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”
Liang Youyun, still shaken, stared at him.
“What were you thinking about?” Muhe walked straight over.
“Nothing… it’s nothing.”
“You’re sweating.” Muhe noticed the fine beads of perspiration on her forehead and restrained the urge to wipe them away.
“It’s too hot; it’s far too hot in here.” Youyun turned her back to him and drained her lemon water.
Jiang Muhe exhaled slowly; wasn’t he himself restless from the heat? After she finished her drink, he asked, “Would you like anything else?”
Youyun shook her head slowly, still dazed.
Muhe didn’t think twice: “I’m ready; we can leave whenever you are.”
The carriage was filled with a blended scent of shampoo and body wash, the fragrance that clung to Jiang Muhe.
He was clean, tidy, doing everything within his power to keep himself away from filth.
For a long time, he had been almost obsessively fastidious, unable to bear any crumbs, dust, or clutter, intolerant of any noisy sounds; these would uncontrollably plunge him into an abyss. The visions haunting him were from his mission days: feet trampling muddy ground, animal droppings, rotting branches and leaves, gruesome corpses, and amidst explosions, fragments of rock…
Even now, he could not fully control his consciousness. Alarm bells and爆破 sounds would still drag him back into that abyss. He could not overcome this fear; time was not a perfect remedy, yet it remained the only healing he could rely on.
What Liang Youyun didn’t know was that when they first met in the rainforest, the reason he hadn’t climbed out of the pit immediately after falling in was because the rotting mud and decaying leaves inside felt like invisible hands of a demon, choking his throat and leaving him gasping for air. That was why he groaned in agony, trying to call her over; if no one had been there to distract him, another episode would likely have struck.
Post-traumatic stress disorder.
That’s what the doctor said—a stress reaction following the witnessing of a severely traumatic event.
In essence, it was Liang Youyun who scolded him back to consciousness that day, unknowingly saving his life.
But would Liang Youyun like such a fragile version of herself?
At the hotel entrance, Youyun stepped out of the car, avoiding his gaze all along, trying her best to look away.
“What’s wrong? You haven’t said a word the whole way.” Muhe gently turned her shoulders, bending down to meet her eyes.
“…Maybe I’m just feeling sleepy…” Youyun slowly lifted her head, meeting his gaze.
Muhe’s brows furrowed slightly. “Did I overlook something that made you uncomfortable?”
Youyun snapped back to reality and explained, “No, not at all! You did wonderfully! I had a great day!”
“You don’t look very happy right now.”
“I just…”
Youyun paused to think, deciding there was no need to hide anything. Along the way, she had come to realize that demonizing him earlier had merely been a way to mask her own inner longing. Sighing, she said:
“Today, after meeting Mr. Hu and discussing my return to Beijing, it suddenly hit me that I’m actually leaving. All at once, I felt reluctant to go—reluctant to leave this place, the villagers… and reluctant to leave you.”
Muhe’s eyes reflected only her sincerity. Her beauty made him feel even more unworthy, deepening his anguish.
He lowered his head and asked softly, “May I hug you?”
Youyun waited a moment, pressed her lips together, and nodded.
His embrace was warm and sweet, carrying the scent of dry skin after a bath and a shirt freshly ironed with fragrant steam.
Youyun wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his chest, while he loosely encircled her back, his right hand gently stroking her hair.
She truly wished time could freeze in this very moment. Overwhelmed by sorrow, Jiang Muhe spoke in a hoarse voice, “I don’t want you to leave, though I have no reason to ask you to stay.”
Youyun’s breath seeped through his shirt, leaving a small damp patch.
“…You should let me go and be happy for me, just like Zhang He did.”
Muhe took a deep breath: “I’ll try my best.”
Youyun stepped out of his embrace, creating distance between them: “Thank you, Jiang Muhe.”
“You’re welcome.”
Watching Liang Youyun enter through the revolving door and gradually disappear from sight, Jiang Muhe felt a pang of melancholy once again.
The sound of Liang Youyun’s footsteps was so familiar—the force and frequency of her shoes striking the ground. He knew them so well that he didn’t need to make any conscious effort to recognize those faint steps on the balcony, nor those eyes shimmering like rippling water.
He wanted her to stay, even if it meant concocting a cunning, sordid excuse.