Beg Me to Remarry
Chapter 236: The Jealous Man

Chapter 236: Chapter 236: The Jealous Man

Nan Qing picked up a pen and beside the portrait wrote a few vigorous characters: "Seasonal & Limited Edition!"

...

That night, in the upscale restaurant, there were only a few sparsely arranged tables, each secluded by screens. To those in the know, these screens alone were evidently worth a small fortune.

Indeed, according to the size of the restaurant, there could have been more seats added; after all, the few available places were all filled.

At the back of the restaurant was a slightly raised stage, furnished with a piano, a violin, a cello, a guitar, and even a drum set; although often merely for show, at this moment, there was slow music flowing out, someone was playing the piano.

From Fu Han’s position, she could see the side profile of a person: a high nose bridge paired with an almost ink-wash painting-like face, faint, as if he had just stepped out of the misty Jiangnan.

Oddly enough, it was a man, with fairly long, light chestnut-colored hair loosely tied in a small knot at the back of his head. Loose strands of hair fell on either side of his face and behind his ears, partially covering his delicate features, adding an extra layer of "gentleness."

Gentle features, this was the first time Fu Han used such a description for a man; like the music he was playing, gentle as water. At first listen it seemed ordinary, but the more one listened, the more complex flavors one discovered.

He Xing’s gentle gaze never strayed from Fu Han. As the piece ended, he spoke slowly, "Do you like it? If you do, I’ll have him play another one?"

"No need," Fu Han shook her head slowly, her gaze resting on the boy still playing the piano.

It was already summer, and the restaurant’s air conditioning was turned high, yet the boy playing the piano had a sweat droplet slowly sliding down his cheek, like slow motion in a movie.

A staff member approached, most likely discussing which customer requested which song to be played—the previous piece had been specially chosen by He Xing for Fu Han.

After some thought, Fu Han picked up the untouched glass of warm water from in front of her and brought it on stage, "Take a sip of water," she said with a friendly smile, offering the cup to the young man.

The young man looked up suspiciously, casting glances between Fu Han and the staff member, as if trying to deduce their relationship.

"The piece you just played was requested for me, it sounded very nice." Fu Han smiled again, recalling how dedicated the young man looked while performing, "I see you’re tired, so I brought you water, no strings attached."

"Thank you." The man took the water glass and, with a few gulps, finished the entire content. He then handed the empty glass back to Fu Han, his face breaking into a faint smile, dimples playing hide and seek at the corners of his mouth.

Fu Han nodded, not looking again at the young man, and returned directly with the glass in hand.

He Xing’s gaze followed her movements; when Fu Han was seated opposite him again, he glanced back at the piano player, who had resumed playing.

The waiter began serving dishes; the not-so-small table was now filled with exquisite dishes. Luckily, each dish was served in small portions, or she really would have lamented the waste of food.

He Xing sliced the steak for Fu Han and passed it to her, his gaze occasionally falling on her, "Do you think that man plays well?"

Fu Han’s focus had long shifted from the piano player. Now, she was staring at an oil painting on the wall, suddenly realizing the signature beneath it was Nan Qing’s.

Hearing He Xing’s question, she turned to look at him, her laugh light and breezy, "I haven’t heard anything better, but I believe he plays with great devotion, as if... with his very life."

He Xing nodded, cutting his portion of steak, a flicker of light in his eyes unreadable.

Fu Han chewed her beef carefully, then, almost as if on impulse, blurted out, "He Xing, you’re not jealous, are you?"

"Who says? I never get jealous," He Xing quickly denied, but his flushed ears betrayed his true feelings.

Fu Han had never seen He Xing so adorably flustered. Her heart melted, and she found herself explaining without thinking, "Don’t get me wrong, I have no interest in him."

He Xing’s magnetic gaze shifted onto Fu Han, his obsidian-like eyes sparkling, and he looked deeply into her eyes, slowly placing his hand on her cheek, "I know, even if you lost your memory, you wouldn’t fall for anyone but me."

His hand approached slowly, and Fu Han certainly could have dodged it, but she didn’t. Once again, her body acted beyond the control of her brain, leaving her with no place to hide.

As for what He Xing had said, any other day Fu Han would have argued—there are no such things as destiny in the face of tragedy, and despite her guilt towards He Xing because of her amnesia, she never thought about getting back with him without her memories.

After all, the He Xing she now knew was just a very close and important friend; after all, one shouldn’t choose without understanding who they truly are, as that would be irresponsible to both themselves and others.

She felt the heat from He Xing’s palm, burning and scalding, and though it was just a touch on the head, she could distinctly feel the deep affection He Xing harbored in his heart.

Fu Han thought inwardly, if it had been the old Fu Han feeling such deep love, she would have been grateful and happy, but the current her only felt a heavy heart, like it was being pressed down by a huge stone, suffocating.

She gave a stiff smile, trying to sound calm as she changed the subject, "The food’s getting cold, let’s hurry and eat."

Unfortunately, her attempt to change the subject was too obvious. He Xing saw right through it. Under normal circumstances, he would play along and pretend not to notice, but today...

He Xing stretched his long arm and grabbed Fu Han’s hand, "Fu Han, I want to know what you feel for me now?"

The inevitable had finally arrived, and Fu Han sighed inwardly. She leaned back slightly, her gaze drifting and inadvertently locking eyes with the boy playing the piano. He nodded at her, a kind smile on his face.

The music shifted, from the slow and somewhat sad tunes to a lively melody that unconsciously lifted the mood of the listeners.