Sweet Wife in My Arms

Chapter 822: She’s the One Who’s Infertile

Lu Yi walked to the bed, removed his shoes, and sat down. He embraced her from behind.

The night will pass, to be sure, and dawn will arrive.

The darkness they see now was only the prelude to a new day.

Yan Huan stiffened. She tried to struggle, but she couldn’t move an inch in his tight embrace. Besides, she was tired…too tired to struggle.

She relaxed, both physically and mentally. In an instant, all her strength left her.

“Huanhuan, we don’t need to have a child,” whispered Lu Yi, his voice hoarse. “Haven’t we agreed on that?”

Lu Yi pressed his chin against Yan Huan’s head, carefully avoiding her wound as he did so.

“Is that why you chose a divorce? Because you wanted to protect my reputation? To protect the Lu Family’s reputation? Have you not considered that me being childless might be destiny at work? Wasn’t that what happened in my previous life? You said I married Fang Zhu but never had a child. Perhaps we are simply not fated to be parents.”

Yan Huan gave no reply. Her eyelashes drooped as a few drops of cool tears rolled off the back of her hand.

Lu Yi held her tighter.

“I can live without a child, but I cannot live without you.”

Yan Huan sniffed. She felt horrible. Miserable.

“Don’t cry, okay?” Lu Yi pressed her chin against her head again. “Didn’t you suggest adoption? Let’s do that, shall we? You being infertile, me being infertile, what’s the difference? We have already decided on what to do, so why does that matter?”

He never stopped talking that night, and she never stopped crying, for the child he and she will never have in this life. She fell asleep in the morning, her eyes swollen from crying. All the crying had made her weary.

Lu Yi placed a hand on her forehead. He was shocked by how hot it was.

She was having a fever. He Yibin came rushing in a short while.

He diagnosed it to be a mere flu after running some tests, and proceed to hook her up to an IV. The veins on the back of her hand were bulging. Her thin fingers looked as though they might snap at any moment.

Yet this was the pair of hands that dug up lives from rubbles. This was the pair of hands that helped her survive in a flood for two days and two nights. This was the pair of hands that created the #1 top-grossing film in China.

She was a strong and determined woman. Her path has always been a thorny one, and there were times when she felt like she couldn’t go on, but she always pushed through, because she knew she couldn’t stop. Stopping would mean getting hurt, or even dying. That’s why she kept going on and on and on. Now, she was beyond tired.

Lu Yi put his hand on her face, gently running his fingers through her hair. His eyes misted with guilt.

“You remember now, don’t you?” asked He Yibin abruptly. His instincts were rarely off.

He remembered. He definitely did. Otherwise, he wouldn’t treat Yan Huan like this. This was the past Lu Yi, the real Lu Yi, the Lu Yi that loved Yan Huan with all he had, the Lu Yi that would sooner give up his life than lose Yan Huan.

Even if he lost her, he would search tirelessly until he finds her again, and protect her until the end of his days.

Lu Yi retracted his hand and turned to face He Yibin.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I regained my memories.”

“When?” asked He Yibin, relieved. That’s good. That’s good.

“After that car accident,” replied Lu Yi. He stood up, walked to the window, and drew the curtains to block off the light. “When I woke up, I remembered everything.”

But some things were too late to be changed.

One of those things being his divorce with Yan Huan.

Divorcing wasn’t hard; all he had to do was sign his name. What was hard was getting back together. When they signed the agreement, they had lost more than their couple title. The divorce was a knife that left their hearts wounded and bleeding.

When Yan Huan opened her eyes again, she couldn’t tell what time it was.

“What time is it?” she asked, rubbing her eyes, reluctant to get up.

Lu Yi walked up to her and moved her hand away.

“Don’t rub your eyes with your dirty hands.”

“They itch,” simpered Yan Huan, pouting.

“They’ll stop itching if I blow at them,” said Lu Yi. He bent down and blew into her eyes. The brief wind made her eyelashes flutter and took away some of the discomfort.

She leaned her head against Lu Yi.

“Sleepy. I want to sleep more.”

“Sleep more, then,” said Lu Yi, stroking her hair gently. He remained in his position.

It was normal for her to feel sleepy, since the medicines He Yibin had prescribed for her were known to induce drowsiness. Let her sleep.

Lu Yi lifted his wrist to consult his watch. It was 10 AM. He was feeling sleepy too—he hadn’t caught a wink throughout the entire night.

Forget it, he shall sleep too.

He shed off his jacket and laid down beside her. It had been a long time since they were in such close contact. They could hear each other’s breath, feel each other’s warmth.

Sleep well, he thought as he hugged her tighter. Her measured breaths made him realize she was sound asleep.

He shut his eyes. Perhaps it was the weariness, or perhaps it was the sense of return, but he slept without dreaming.

His eyes snapped open suddenly. He looked to the window. The blinding bright light had breached the dense curtains.

He adjusted himself slightly to block off the light with his back.

When he looked down, he saw his woman still sleeping quietly at his chest. He could tell from her measured breath that she hadn’t woken.

After an interminable amount of time, Yan Huan woke up and tried to rub her eyes. A hand forestalled her.

“Don’t rub your eyes.”

Her eyes were still groggy from sleep.

“They hurt, though,” she said, her discomfort plain to see.