The Decade Of Deep Love Chapter 3: Chapter 3

A violent pain ripped through Zhishu He's whole body when he was climbing the stairs of the apartment, as if numerous thorns were growing in his bone and waves of pain penetrated every pore. Although Zhishu He had the very strong tolerance, he could not stand this pain so that he almost wanted to kill himself to get rid of it.

Zhishu He struggled to reach his house with the orchid in his arms. After he walked in the door, he immediately leant against the wall, feeling dizzy. He gasped for air and his body was awash with a cold sweat.

He had liked to collect various beautiful gla.s.s bottles for appreciation since he was still a student, but now all the bottles were used to hold his medicines. There were different pills in different bottles. Misfortune was hidden in beauty and no one could see it.

Zhishu He was too tired to heat up the water. He poured himself a cup of cold water and took the medicines. He huddled in bed and put his chin on the knees. The pain didn't relieve as if it had rooted deeply in his abdominal cavity. He was thin and his cheeks were hollow.

Wenxu Jiang hadn't been home for 19 days. This was the first time he stayed out for so long. Zhishu He missed him all the time. A few days ago, he went to hospital for the bone marrow puncture. When he was waiting in the corridor, he heard the sobs of other patients clearly. But he was very calm and just asked the nurse one question—"Can I stand up after doing this? I need to go home by myself." He was afraid that Wenxu Jiang would be worried if he came home and didn't see him.

Zhishu He got a splitting headache, with his fingers curling and brows knitted. At this point, he was just like a drowning man who was so desperate because he failed to catch the driftwood anyway. He couldn't sleep, so he got out of the bed and unlocked the desk drawer. There was a book lying in it.

He carefully took it out, went to the living room, and then sat down on the sofa. It was an old book of Zheng Jane's essays. He gently opened the book while a faint gentle smile appeared on his face.

The pages had yellowed with age. But on the first page, the sentence transcribed by Wenxu Jiang was still clear and firm. His handwriting was flowing and graceful--

"Where you are, where my heart is."

Fourteen years ago, a tall young boy gave Zhishu He this book, flus.h.i.+ng up to the ears, and said in a stiff tone, "I have heard that you like Zheng Jane's essays, so I bought this book for you. I hope you will like it... and like me too!" Until now, Zhishu He still remembered Wenxu Jiang's shy face and loving eyes.

Everything changed now, including the boy. Zhishu He bit his lips and held the book tightly in his arms. Then he curled up on the sofa, staring at the door with vacant eyes. He didn't cry but his heart was like dead ashes.

In the evening, Wenxu Jiang finally went home.

Hearing the sound of the key turning, Zhishu He woke up immediately and sat up slowly.

The room was dark. Wenxu Jiang reached out to turn on the light and thought that Zhishu He must have slept in the bedroom. But Jiang didn't expect to see the man sitting on the sofa with a pale face, just like a ghost.

Wenxu Jiang was taken aback and snarled, "Oh, f.u.c.k! You scared me! Why didn't you turn on the light?”

He couldn't help feeling a bit irritated when he looked at his spouse. These days much of his time was spent with his new lover, an art student whose name was Zui Shen. After receiving the call from Zhishu He last night, for some unknown reasons, Wenxu Jiang got a guilty conscience and lost his interest in his new lover. So he decided to come home and see if something really happened to Zhishu He.

"I just woke up, when you came in. I didn't have time to turn on the light. Have you finished all the work yet?" Zhishu He asked tenderly and put the book on the tea table.

Wenxu Jiang took off his overcoat and threw it on the sofa without casting a glance at that book. He raised his hand to loosen his tie and lied with a straight face, "No, I still have much work to do. But I miss you very much, so I come home to see you. You didn’t call me for days."

Wenxu Jiang let his eyes settle upon Zhishu He's face and slowly frowned. "You seem thinner than before. Have you taken good care of yourself? You look like a drug addict and make me sick," he said coldly before he went to the bathroom to take a shower.

Those merciless remarks cut Zhishu He to the quick and he felt as if a knife pierced through his heart. He knew clearly that Wenxu Jiang didn't cared about his health at all but felt disgusted at his haggard face and emaciated body. His new lover must be a beauty.

Zhishu He curled his lips into a sarcastic smile. He wanted to live a happy life, but fate played a trick on him. He suffered from the leukaemia and was wasting away. Now Wenxu Jiang scolded him for his weary-looking. Did he need to apologize for getting ugly? How ridiculous! Even the vendor of the wonton stall had noticed his ill health, even the doctor who had been accustomed to life and death advised him not to give up his life, but this man, who had been with him for more than ten years, was completely unaware of his sickness.

Zhishu He knew Wenxu Jiang very well. He was such a cruel man that he would not show any tender and patience to someone whom he was not interested in. He used to love Zhishu He, but now he had a change of heart. All his love for Zhishu He had gone with wind. Now he was even unwilling to spare a glance for Zhishu.

Zhishu He could do nothing about it.