C14 Little Days

Qian Duojing experienced a sudden sense of weightlessness as a breeze whistled past her ears. She was held tightly in the warm embrace of someone who leapt down with her.

Xue Zhengqing could have easily landed on his feet if he had jumped alone, but fearing that Qian Duojing might hesitate, he chose to hold her securely as they landed on the safety bag.

Pushing against Xue Zhengqing's chest, Qian Duojing scrambled to her feet. Hearing the sound of the police breaking down the door upstairs, she grabbed Xue Zhengqing's hand and they sprinted away.

They ran for what seemed like an eternity until Qian Duojing, gasping for air, felt a sharp pain in her lower abdomen. She struggled to breathe and speak, her body breaking out in a cold sweat. Overcome by dizziness, she eventually passed out, but thankfully, Xue Zhengqing was right behind her to catch her.

When Qian Duojing came to, she found herself in a train compartment. The dark red, vintage-style ceiling, the plush velvet bed, and the air filled with a delightful scent reminiscent of her favorite modern-day croissants mixed with coffee.

She slowly sat up, noticing she was still in her dark blue factory uniform. The compartment was empty except for a plate of croissants and an exquisite set of ceramic coffee cups with a steaming pot on the small table beside her.

The door swung open, and in came Xue Zhengqing, now dressed in a crisp suit. He approached her bedside, helped her sit up, and placed a couple more pillows behind her for added comfort.

"You're awake, thank goodness. You gave me quite a fright. I didn't expect you to pass out from running too hard. I carried you all the way to the train station, borrowed a phone to call Shang Wu, and then brought you onto the train before you regained consciousness," he explained.

"Thank you, Xue Zhengqing," Qian Duojing murmured weakly.

Despite feeling sticky, with a sore back and a throbbing pain in her waist, her need for cleanliness overrode her discomfort.

Attempting to rise from the bed, Qian Duojing's legs gave out, and she collapsed. Xue Zhengqing swiftly caught her, and she found herself seated on his lap.

Qian Duojing felt both embarrassed and anxious as she struggled to stand, only to find herself enveloped in his embrace. What on earth was she to do in such a situation?

Xue Zhengqing gently assisted her to her feet and inquired, "What do you need? Just tell me, and you can go back to resting."

Leaning against Xue Zhengqing, Duojing requested, "I'd like to clean myself up. Some hot water would suffice. If there are clean clothes available, that would be even better. After yesterday's chaos, I feel filthy and it's quite uncomfortable."

Xue Zhengqing was inclined to help but hesitated, considering Duojing's shy demeanor. He didn't want to come across as having ulterior motives. Although she was his lawful wife, she was already bashful from a mere embrace. If he were to help her clean herself, she might very well pass out.

As Xue Zhengqing intended to guide her back to the bed, he noticed a bloodstain on the pristine bedsheet beneath the lifted blanket.

"Duojing? Are you bleeding? Where are you hurt?" he asked with concern.

Duojing was just as perplexed. How could she be injured? Yet, there it was—a small bloodstain on the sheet. She also spotted a similar mark on Zhengqing's light gray striped trousers.

Suddenly, it dawned on her, and her face turned crimson with realization. Stammering, she assured him, "It's not an injury."

"If you're not hurt, then where did the blood come from?" he pressed.

With her cheeks burning red, Duojing looked up at Zhengqing, her eyes brimming with shyness.

Zhengqing's heart melted under her gaze.

"What's the matter? Hmm? You can tell me anything," he coaxed.

Duojing bit her lip and stood on tiptoe, aiming to whisper in his ear. Zhengqing bent down, feeling her breath as light as a feather against his ear, and listened as she spoke softly and hesitantly, "It's... It's that time of the month for me."

Zhengqing, still puzzled, asked, "What time of the month? What are you trying to say?"

While he was talking, he noticed a smear of blood on his thigh. The memory of Qian Duojing tumbling onto his lap came to mind, and he could picture her striking face turning a deep shade of red.