Chapter 6 Hidden corner.

"Why aren't you answering? You truly are an uneducated person without manners!" A cup of hot tea was thrown at my face. Lost in thought, I didn't manage to dodge the impending danger. Fortunately, my husband in name at least had some humanity, as he quickly pulled me towards him and shielded me with his strong shoulder.

I stared at him in shock, and because we were so close, I could finally see his face beyond the long hair. A beautiful chin, indifferent blue eyes that were incredibly captivating.

Oh God, I'm somewhat swayed by him!

Could it be that every vagrant is handsome like this? So a normal company employee like me is just like an earthworm underground, right?

I suddenly remembered the sales staff and the customers who always looked down on me and Alan, I curiously thought if they saw his face, sculpted like this, they would take back their words and clamor to support him.

Alan looked at me intently for a moment, then stepped aside as if nothing had happened. Thanks to the vagrant stepping aside, I could see the angry face of my mother and brother. Looking at my mother's arm ready to throw something, it was clear, she was the one who splashed the boiling water on me.

I glanced at Alan; he didn't utter a single word of complaint even though his shoulder might have been burned.

I knew I needed to get him immediate treatment.

I turned back to face my blood relatives. I coldly said, "What does mother need me to answer?"

The woman, once beautiful and demure, now had a wrinkled, ugly face, nothing like her past self. She shouted, "Are you still playing dumb??? I told you to break up with that poor guy, come home and prepare for the wedding for me!"

I laughed and said, "Unfortunately, I'm already married."

"What did you say?"

My mother's scream pierced my ears, a terrifyingly harsh sound. I could only cover one ear with my hand, trying to answer as quickly as possible, fearing that if I were a beat too slow, my mother would start screaming madly again.

"I got married this morning. If mother forces me to marry someone else, it would be a crime of bigamy."

Luckily, this morning before buying clothes, I had taken Alan to the civil affairs bureau to register our marriage. Otherwise, we couldn't have settled this today.

"You whore!"

"Why did you get married?!" My brother and mother screamed in unison. I could guess why they were so agitated.

Because a week ago, I accidentally saw my brother and my mother talking excitedly with a man in the picture. Obviously, they were so happy because they were discussing my marriage. How touching.

I felt grateful for the disgusting kindness of my family.

I calmly said, "Isn't it what mother always calls to say, that I am of age and should marry?"

Then I took Alan's hand, smiled gently, and said, "I think mother and brother are right, so I got married."

Ignoring my mother clutching her chest, furious to the point of fainting, I pulled Alan up, nodded with a smile, and said, "My husband is injured, I need to take him to the hospital for treatment. We will visit everyone next time."

The slamming door drowned out the curses inside, we needed to leave quickly before they thought to detain me and force us to sign divorce papers.

Leaving that suffocating house, I could finally clear my head. I led Alan to the hospital from memory. Throughout the journey, the man beside me was always silent, as if he was just a wooden puppet.

But I knew, he was not just a puppet but also a handsome man who could sometimes be chivalrous. At least he had more humanity than my foolish brother.

I silently watched as Alan was given first aid, the man not making a sound through the process. A person with great endurance.

My silent observation was interrupted by a large hand reaching out and patting my head.

"Do you need to have that head of yours checked?" I hesitated looking at Alan, why was this man suddenly acting so strange? Could it be the burn affected his mind?

I never expected that my attentive gaze had reminded him of his beloved dog, and his patting my head was just a comforting habit for his pet. This was the answer Alan gave me much later, of course, he did not have a peaceful night in his room that evening.

"Please follow me to settle the hospital bill."The nurse said and smiling, gesturing for me to follow and handle the payment.

I nodded, and the two of us followed the nurse. On the way there, I glanced at his bandaged shoulder, sighing. The financial burden weighed heavily on me, but I had to bear it, now that I had a family. At least I felt lucky that it was Alan's shoulder that was injured and not my face.

Though I, Alice, am not one to care about looks, I wouldn't want to become disfigured either.

I touched near his bandaged area gently and whispered, "Thank you."

Alan paused mid-step, then his deep, hoarse voice said, "You are my wife."

I was genuinely surprised; a stranger, even a vagrant looked down upon by everyone, stood up to protect me, telling me that I am his wife.

The world really knows how to play jokes on people.

That year I...

Well, it's all in the past, what's the use of thinking about it now.

I smiled a bitter smile. No need to deceive myself or others. Alan was good to me because of our marriage contract. Not to mention, he hasn't seen how disgusting my true self is. Once the contract ends, and he sees my true nature... will the small kindness of this good person still be extended to me?

The answer is obvious, isn't it.

I didn't say anything more, and neither did Alan. We were like two parallel streams, always close but never intersecting in this life.

...

After getting home, it was already very late. I went into the kitchen to prepare food for the two of us; I couldn't possibly ask an injured person to cook for me. Anyway, our dinner tonight couldn't be enjoyed fully, as from start to finish we had to deal with those troublesome people.

Having been single for so long and now preparing a late meal for a husband, the feeling was quite miraculous. I didn't do anything fancy, just reheated a bowl of pork vegetable soup and mashed potatoes for myself and him.

Alan quietly looked at his food and then asked, "How do you usually eat?"

I looked at him puzzled, after slurping some soup I replied, "I eat noodles and soup. That's enough nutrition for the day."

Alan sighed, his voice sounding very helpless, "Starting tomorrow, I will cook."

I was surprised, "You know how to cook?"

His spoon stirring the soup non-stop, he responded with a low tone, "Don't worry. At least you won't get food poisoning."

It seems I wasn't wrong. This man was criticizing my cooking skills. Even though what I made was just reheated from the supermarket, it was still edible!

"My menu will be normal," Alan added, seemingly aware of what I was thinking. And indeed, he was criticizing my menu for being not normal! What a fussy man! He must have some kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder or something!

Why would anyone pay attention to such trivial matters! Food just needs to go in the mouth, why all the fuss!

I was a bit annoyed. But then thinking about the contract and its duration, my irritation faded.

Let it go, if someone wants to take over the role of chef, let them. Why interfere, after all, I'm easy to feed, as long as it's not something horrendous that I can't swallow, I'll eat anything else.

Moreover...

I glanced at his right shoulder, now bandaged. If tomorrow he pleads with me to help him cook because of his injury, I'll laugh right in his face!

I hid my smug expression, saving it to mock this husband in name tomorrow. I cleared the dishes and told him to go to his room to sleep.

After cleaning up, I also went to my room. Right now, I felt lucky to have bought this apartment on installment; it has two bedrooms, which seems a bit wasteful for a single person who doesn't interact much with others. But now it's very useful because he and I don't need to share a bedroom.

I returned to my room, my own private territory unknown to anyone... Ah, except for him having spent one night with me. I looked at the bland bedroom of mine, next to the bed was a low dresser placed right at the head of the bed. On it was a picture frame.

I picked it up and stroked it.

It was a photograph of two families, four adults and three children. The notable thing about this picture was that six of the people had a line drawn across their necks. Only a little girl in the middle had her face blackened out. Of the six people with lines across their necks, there was an image of a woman with a small string of numbers above her head.

2015