These days I had been frantically avoiding Jie Moshu at all chances. It made no sense. It was crazy, whichever way you looked at it.
I mean, not that "intentional-kiss" meant anything. It was just I became acutely aware of his soft and sexy lips—causing me to have unhealthy addiction. Just a glance of him, I was hit with the replay of that scene. God, it was making me hard to face him without thinking of those lips. I shoved that thought right out of my head. No. He had no lips, there was no such things as called lips. (It did sound creepy though).
Now came the tricky part. Jie Moshu was practically brainwashed Baba to stay and look after me in his mansion. As a matter of fact, I totally objected to this invitation. Who would want to live under the same roof with a stranger who just "kissed" you? Although I had this agreement with him for living together, which caused ruckus into he asked for my hand in marriage. Then again, that was another case before things happened the way they were now.
Of course, I tried to talk to Baba after that, tried to come up with all rational reasons for not living in with Jie Moshu—the mattress was bouncy though. Anyway, I talked and talked and talked until my face went blue like the blue paint on vessels. Instead of getting convinced by me, Baba was happily accepted the invitation. He said it was to get to know his future son-in-law better and was one of the many reasons he agreed to this.
I felt like banging my head against the wall to take out all of my pent-up anger and frustration. But since at this very minute my legs were still too languid to support me standing, I probably wouldn't. Just to get as far as sitting on a wheelchair had been a hassle. I didn't want to jeopardized myself.
Back to the days when I was still an athlete, I had the chance to live in some luxurious hotel during out of town competitions. Jie Moshu's mansion gave me the vibes of it, I had to admit. Different from the in house interior which mostly gave me the impression of more Westernized design, the exterior was Chinese. It was located far from the bustling city, like a utopia. An upgraded version of grandeur historical residence with breathtaking pond. As expected multibillionaire lifestyle was on another level, especially when he was inhuman—incomparable.
The garden was rather transcendent. It was a wide rectangle field, filled with trees and shrubs. There was a bridge that leads to a pavilion, which was adjacent to a mist-covered pond. Rocks of all sizes were lined up above the rim of the pond. And it had goldfish in it, swimming here and there, chasing each other. From the pavilion, I glanced to the right where there was a miniature rock mountain below the magnolia tree. It was utterly an idyllic place.
"Baba, how's Foodville doing? It's been days since I'm sick. Are my workers slacking off?" I asked, practically worried about my income and the costs.
"Don't think too much, Baba have it all under control. All you need to worry about is getting yourself back in perfect shape," he countered while puncturing an apple without looking at my face. "Ah. Also, one more thing. I already gave you my permission to be together with son-in-law. There was no need for you to feel extremely happy until you fainted for days—and having a stroke at that."
I frowned my eyebrows at his sarcastic tone, "Baba, it's me, your daughter. And I am sick. How could you even blame me for it? It wasn't like I intentionally wanted this thing to happen. Plus, I don't agree to this marriage yet."
Baba shrugged. "But you did accept him to live with you, right? Then why is that so?"
Because I'm dying, Baba. I don't know how much time I had left. And Jie Moshu might be the person who can help me.
I wished to say that aloud, but I clamped my mouth shut. It wasn't like I could say anything about it. Of course not. Be reasonable. This was like saying to your parents that you've suffered from stage four cancer. It would probably sound like a death news, and I knew Baba too well—he would burst into tears. Because he acted the role as both my father and mother, the pain would be twice as much.
"You know, Baba quite like this Jie Moshu guy. He has a car, decent job, and has this—" he gestured with his holding knife hand "—big house. He might be a divorcee and a single dad, but I don't oppose it."
Jie Moshu. I snapped out my deep thoughts and back to reality. Although Baba seemed to be carefree and wise, he was actually a traditional man. That was why even after years since Mama had left us, he took the responsibility to take care of me without seeking a new mother for me. That was why when Baba agreed Jie Moshu to be his son-in-law, I thought he was joking. Still, I couldn't stop myself from asking.
"Baba, just what did he say to you on that day?"
"Of course. It's a man-to-man talk. A girl like you shouldn't know too much about it."
"Man-to-man?" I scoffed. "Baba, we're talking about me here. My marriage. How can I not know about it?"
"No, no, no, no." His peeling speed was all quick for a moment. "You should never know a guy's talk. We might say something that you don't even know."
My stomach growled in protest—and I almost did too. I hadn't had my breakfast, and I was starving now. I couldn't stay on the same dining table with Jie Moshu watching me all the time. Reminded me again of those lips. I heaved a long, shuddering sigh.
"Ah..." a slice of apple was shoved to my face, feeding me like I was a child—well, I was his daughter.
I opened my mouth as the crisp sweet-taste apple went in. Still munching on the crumble, I said. "Er... You aren't making this easy on me."
Baba stopped peeling all sudden as his bright coppery amber eyes met mine.
I always thought why mine were rather brownish different from Mama too as hers were black. Brown eyes are sincere eyes, Mama always said in her gentle voice. A dull ache flooded my heart. Not for the first time, I wished that she could be here and talk with me. I always had jealousy with others who had mothers, they could easily talk about anything. Like what Baba said, a man-to-man talk, I wanted a heart-to-heart session with Mama.
For a second, Baba had stared at me. A strange emotion were flashing in his eyes. "Do you really want to know about it?"
"Is that even a serious question?" I snickered at his stiff tone, but Baba's face had grown all serious, cold. It was like a switch had flipped inside him.
"It was probably time that Baba actually have to be honest with you."
"Baba, I only asked because I want to talk to you about that day," I rolled my eyes, "You don't have to be that tensed."
This time he dropped the apple and short knife. "Huayu, if Baba can keep this longer, and make you a happy kid, I would be gladly to do so."
"What do you mean?" I asked, an expression of perfect confusion on my face.
Baba was acting strangely like he was no longer that loving and carefree Baba of mine. Distant.
His eyes showing regret and resignation, along with stubborn determination. He pushed away from the table, and got on his feet. "Everything that Baba is about to do to you, don't ever doubt that I deeply love you."
I wanted to ask more, but I halted myself. My throat was suddenly felt tight and stiff as though something was clamped.
He waved his hand, then gray smoke swirled around me, mixing with a strange magical perfume. It wasn't really unpleasant, but it was strong. Unlike everything I had ever felt before, something was flowing within me. My lungs were burning and my eyes were growing heavier on each second. Power burst inside me and made it hard to breathe. It felt like the light, enchanting magic engulfing my mind and drawing me to close my eyes.
The moment I began to lose my senses, I actually froze in shock like a frightened rabbit. A strange rumbling sense rolled through my entire body. It left me shaking, empty, tired. That familiar dark-haired man, faint wrinkles on his face, those lips that always showed gentle and warm smile. But now, that Baba had gone, and this man beside me was someone I barely knew. What had Baba done to me? What was going on? Was that magic? Why was I feeling drowsy? I had all questions and none of the answers. Nothing.
"Baba..." My lips barely moved. My voice was weak as croak.
Weak and light-headed, as if my whole world was reeled in haze. My stomach sank. Fatigue creeping from my head to toe. The tempo of my heart thudding sounded like a sledgehammer in my ears. Everything spun, I could no longer see Baba clearly. Slowly, my vision blurred. This was clearly not I expected from this conversation.
"I'm sorry, child." His voice sounded so distant.
An absurd thought came to me: Who are you, Baba?
And before I could ask him anything, the thought began to fade. As darkness overcame, everything went black.