Monopolize My Mysterious Wife
Chapter 939 - 939 925 Did He Cry (1)

Chapter 939: 925, Did He Cry (1) Chapter 939: 925, Did He Cry (1) “Luoluo, I don’t feel like eating dinner, just go ahead without me,” Jian Qing said without lifting her head, thinking it was Jian Luo who had come in to call her for dinner.

Quan Jingwu’s violet eyes deepened, his feet as if leaden, unable to take a step.

Having not heard any movement behind her for a long time, Jian Qing lifted her head in confusion and met the reflection of a figure in the floor-to-ceiling window, her gaze pausing briefly.

She turned her head, her pearly feet touching the icy floor.

The moment she looked up and inadvertently caught the man’s profound violet eyes, Jian Qing was momentarily mesmerized.

Without a doubt, the man before her was Quan Jingwu, whom Jian Luo and others had spoken of.

Because during the flight, she had already checked on her phone.

The two stood facing each other, merely a few steps apart, yet it felt as if they were separated by an entire galaxy, unapproachably distant.

By the time Jian Qing snapped back to her senses, the man with the long strides had already walked up to her.

The night, scented with a subtle fragrance, stirred.

An endless silence enveloped them both.

In the end, Jian Qing averted her gaze and stepped back subtly, “I’m sorry, I temporarily lost my memory, I don’t remember anything about us.”

Her voice was barely audible, indifferent and distant.

Little did she know, her words were like a sharp sword, fiercely stabbing into his heart, revealing the barely concealed sorrow in his captivating violet eyes.

As she withdrew, he advanced, Quan Jingwu lowering his eyes to look at her, his magnetic voice tinged with a hint of huskiness, “My treasure, don’t play such jokes on me.”

He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe she had forgotten him.

My treasure?

Jian Qing realized he was addressing her, her lips quivering slightly.

Since when did she acquire such a nickname?

Uh… so cheesy.

She lifted her head, about to speak, but upon catching the anguish between his brows, her heartbeat quickened erratically, a shattering pain spreading across her chest.

“You…”

She had barely uttered a word when the man stretched out his sturdy arm, grasping her waist, and effortlessly hoisted her up to stand on his feet.

Jian Qing gasped softly, somewhat shocked.

“Haven’t I told you not to walk barefoot on the floor? It’s cold,” his iron arm wound around her waist, his tone still characteristically tender and doting.

“Quan Jingwu, I, you…” Jian Qing opened her mouth, but the words she meant to say vanished as soon as she met his gaze.

Why was it that just seeing him look sad made her heart uncontrollably ache?

What kind of past did she share with him?

Luoluo said she loved Quan Jingwu very much, as did Black Jack and Bai Jue; yet, her memory remained frozen at the moment she initially returned to Beijing. Could this be fate’s cruel joke on her and him?

“Really forgotten me, huh?”

The lilt at the end of his sentence carried a suppressed pain.

Jian Qing’s nose tingled inexplicably, “I’m sorry.”

Apart from this, she really didn’t know what to say; although she’d lost her memory, it was strange that she could clearly feel his sadness and hurt.

Doesn’t this mean that, just as Luoluo had said, the her who hadn’t lost her memory loved him very, very much?

Quan Jingwu’s hand tightened slightly, pulling her into his embrace. He bent down, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his voice hoarsely saying, “I don’t want to hear that, I want you to tell me you’re joking with me, that you remember me, right?”

With his iron arms imprisoning her waist, Jian Qing’s lips parted slightly, and she stayed dumbly in his embrace, not daring to move an inch.

“You disappeared for so long, how can you forget me the moment you come back, my dear, you can’t do this, you can’t be so cruel to me.”

His hands tightened, and Jian Qing felt somewhat breathless.

She pushed him, managing to create some distance between them.

“Quan Jingwu, I’m sorry!”

Seeing no trace of the tender affection she used to have for him in her eyes, only indifference and estrangement, Quan Jingwu felt on the verge of collapse.

He hugged her again, leaving no space between them, “We never needed apologies between us, if I had insisted on accompanying you to M Country, you wouldn’t have disappeared, it’s all my fault.”

A faint coolness spread from her neck, and Jian Qing’s attempt to push his arms away faltered, her pupils constricting as if someone had suddenly clutched her heart, leaving her gasping for air.

Was he crying?

“Quan Jingwu!” She whispered his name, her pale hand instinctively stroking his back, the gesture flowing like water, as if it had been repeated countless times before.

Realizing her own action, Jian Qing was somewhat surprised herself.

She frowned slightly and withdrew her hand in a composed manner.

The man’s cool fragrance lingered in her nostrils, his dominant pheromones overwhelming her reason. Jian Qing tried to gently break free, but this only led to a tighter embrace from him.

Perhaps she hadn’t realized that deep down, she simply couldn’t reject him; it was more that she was used to being in his arms, even if at this moment she had forgotten him.

The orange light of the lamp cast a soft brightness on them, creating a faint halo around their figures.

In the silence, there was a sense of warmth.

After a while, the man’s deep voice sounded again, his warm breath tickling her ear, making her shrink her neck.

“After washing your hair, you should dry it. Otherwise, with the air conditioner on, it’s easy to catch a cold.”

Jian Qing’s eyes clouded with confusion, not understanding his rapid change in demeanor, as if nothing had happened—like she had never lost her memory.

Before she could make sense of it, Quan Jingwu picked her up sideways. Jian Qing instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, but then quickly withdrew her hands.

“What are you doing?”

Quan Jingwu said nothing and placed her beside the bed before turning and walking into the bathroom.

Jian Qing scratched her head, wondering what was going on.

It wasn’t long before Quan Jingwu came out of the bathroom, holding a hairdryer.

He approached her, plugged in the hairdryer, and the “whirring” noise filled the bedroom.

“No need, I can do it myself.” Having lost her memory, Jian Qing felt slightly embarrassed by his intimacy.

“Just sit still.” Quan Jingwu avoided her hands and said with lowered eyes.

Jian Qing’s gaze flickered, and she stopped resisting him.

The man’s warm fingers wove through her hair, and Jian Qing tensed up.

After a while, her hair was dry. Quan Jingwu turned off the hairdryer and took the comb to tidy her slightly disheveled long hair.

Then, he put down the comb, leaned in, and gazed at her with his deep violet eyes, “My dear, even if you’ve forgotten me, I’ll make you fall in love with me again, I’ll make you remember me.”

His firm tone was inherently convincing.

Catching his confident look, Jian Qing was taken aback.

“Are you hungry?” He pinched her cheek lightly, lamenting that the once plump cheeks fed by Quan Jingwu over the past three months had slimmed down to the point of emaciation.

Just as Jian Qing was about to say she wasn’t hungry, the man cut her off.

“Let’s go, I’ll cook something for you.”

He took her slippers and knelt down, his large hand grasping her delicate bare foot and helping her slip into them.