Chapter 60 — Directionality

Unlike a regular pill, this one did not dissolve at all, and instead simply swam over towards Lin Che’s lower dantian and just sat there. It moved through his stomach lining and into his meridian network, and, once he probed it a bit with his own Qi, it deformed inwards like clay before bouncing back into its spherical shape.

Then, it zoomed towards the grain and embedded itself into it like a thumb pressed into a muscle — it found the knot, and went deeper and deeper until the pain transformed into pleasure.

Once fully inside, it slowly began to spin, as though it were eroding the grain via mechanical force the way a stream slowly cuts through rock. Lin Che simply watched as the grain started to decrease in density and become more hollow until the novelty of the feeling wore off and boredom struck just fifteen minutes later.

He stood up from his bed and decided to run himself a shower as he had nothing better to do.

The water came down hot under the shower head, which Lin Che held up towards the parts of him that were still tender from the burns. On the surface, his wounds were healing well, and, thanks to Hu Baolin’s ointment, it was unlikely that they would scar. Even if they did, the scars would be faint.

He stayed under the water longer than usual, as the bathroom was warm and he had nowhere else he needed to be for the next several hours. By the time he turned the shower off, the steam it had produced had fogged up the mirrors and even escaped into the bedroom where he’d left his clothes.

Once changed into a fresh pair of boxers, Lin Che took his new phone from its charger and tapped on the screen out of habit to check for notifications.

No one had messaged him that entire time.

He lay down afterwards, just to rest his eyes for a moment, and he focussed on the spinning sensation deep within him. In the silence of the room, he could even hear the faint whirring of the pill as it worked its magic and ground the grain into microscopically small bits of dust.

Lin Che hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the sensation of the soft duvet upon his bare chest and legs made it simply impossible to resist sleep.

One moment he was looking at the ceiling, then at the backside of his eyelids, and eventually the exhaustion caught up to him. He felt no sense of time passing throughout.

***

Lin Che stirred awake when he heard the door open, announcing Shen Yue’s return from her conversation with his mother and the fish.

Shen Yue took one look at him and the steamy atmosphere of the room and blinked twice.

“Hello?” she asked. “What’s that noise I’m hearing?”

She pushed her neck forwards slightly and honed in on the direction of the sound. It was coming from the bed, right under Lin Che’s blanket.

She made eye contact with Lin Che for a brief moment, before something clicked in her mind and she averted her gaze entirely.

Lin Che coughed dryly, partly to evict the bit of mucous in his throat.

“How was the aquarium?” he asked, grabbing the shirt he had left on the other side of the bed.

“Your mother is an exceptional person.”

“I know,” said Lin Che, pulling the shirt over his head.

“She argued with a starfish because it ‘looked at her the wrong way’ allegedly.” Shen Yue moved towards one of the wardrobes in the room and flicked through the dresses inside. “Then she found a catfish and insisted we take a selfie next to it. She said it was her first family picture with her son and daughter-in-law.”

“That’s just her,” said Lin Che

Shen Yue was still selecting an outfit to change into. “What was it like growing up with her?”

Lin Che thought about it. “Busy,” he said. “She doesn’t have a quiet setting. When I was younger, it was cooking — everything she’d learnt, she’d make twice or thrice a week. Then, she switched hobbies to calligraphy, and she’d have brushes and ink on every flat surface in the house.” He sighed. “Then it was running, which at least kept it outdoors…”

“Mhm.”

“She was always in the middle of something, which ended up occupying the entire house. It got a bit worse after my father died,” he said. “And now she’s apparently a pottery expert!”

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Shen Yue was quiet for a moment, no longer thinking about dresses. “I didn’t grow up with my mother much,” she said, eventually. Her voice had a subtly softer register to it, but otherwise was the exact same. “She was ill when I was young, and, by the time she wasn’t ill, they started enrolling me in lessons at the main residence.” She breathed out and looked at her hands. “So I’m glad I got to experience a night like this with my mother-in-law,” she said, her lips unsure if they were smiling or not. Regardless, she was obscured by the door to the wardrobe, and Lin Che was busy using this opportunity to put on some trousers without seeming too immodest in front of his wife.

Lin Che said nothing in response to her, as he wasn’t really sure of what to say. He could console her, but it seemed like she’d already made peace with her childhood, and he felt like talking more about his mother would seem boastful instead.

“I’m glad she’s the way she is,” said Shen Yue, going back to inspecting her outfits. “She also gave me her friend’s number. The woman with the studio.”

Lin Che’s attention sharpened.

“Her name’s Liu Xiulan. I’ll send you the details so we can plan a trip together, alright?”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, reaching for his phone.

“I thought we might visit after the honeymoon — I’d rather not completely disregard the timetable at this stage, given the amount of time I spent on it. But I think it could be worth the trip.”

“Seems like we’ll be going to Dalian more often,” he replied.