Page 4 of He Is My Bride

Li Ying was leaving the hospital after another busy day in the emergency room. One more week left of his rotation. He had to admit, it was an interesting, high-intensity environment, but Li Ying was dead set on his chosen field.

It was Hanjun’s turn to cook today, but Li Ying thought it better to check up on him to clarify, so he wouldn’t end up scraping something up in a hurry again:

Just got off work—you eaten yet?

Li Ying got on his bike and headed home. While waiting at the traffic lights, he checked his phone for Hanjun’s response:

I made borscht.

Always soup, is he trying to tell me something? Li Ying sent Hanjun a heart.

Biking along, Li Ying spotted a bunch of bright pink peonies outside a flower shop that was about to close. The flowers were just past their best bloom but still beautiful, held in a green plastic bucket with a sign ‘-50%’ on it.

“Hey, nice lady!” Li Ying called for the florist, and soon the suave young man was pedaling onwards with a bouquet of peonies with an extra 20% off.

Li Ying arrived at the condominium where he had moved in with Hanjun over a year ago. It was the kind of luxury condo with a 24/7 desk, a private gym, and even a small pool. Very cushy.

Having left his ride in the bike storage.

Li Ying headed up to the top floor. The jingle of his own set of keys still made his heart giddy with joy.

Life was definitely looking up for Li Ying, considering he had moved to a place like this straight out of his foster parents’ residence.

The Qians lived in a nice house in Brooklyn Heights, but this was on another level.

Li Ying still had support from his foster father, his ‘Uncle’ Qian, but he could never have afforded to live in this condo by his current means.

However, Hanjun’s uncle had apparently bought the place for him, so Hanjun had thought it fair if Li Ying just paid his share of the remaining living costs.

Li Ying had sworn that once he was a doctor, he would step up and contribute more financially. He was thankful that Hanjun didn’t seem to expect that though. In fact, Hanjun never brought up the matter of finances, for which Li Ying was grateful.

Despite his carefree appearances, it wasn’t easy for Li Ying to depend on others, since Mrs. Qian, Uncle Qian’s wife, had always reminded him whose house he lived in and who put the food on his plate.

Mrs. Qian was partial to her own children, and while they never got such snippy reminders, it wasn’t their fault their mother was like that.

Li Ying had always been close to his foster brother Kai and his foster sister Amy—they both had taken Western names, but Li Ying went by the one his mother had given him.

His name was the only thing Li Ying’s biological mother had given him.

“I’m home,” Li Ying announced as he entered the hall.

“Welcome home,” Hanjun called from the living room.

Li Ying threw his leather jacket over a chair and kicked off his Converses before running and jumping at Hanjun just as he stood up from the couch, almost toppling him right back down.

“I kept the soup warm for you, you should… eat?” Hanjun had noticed the peonies in Li Ying’s hand.

“I got my wife flowers, aren’t I a good husband?”

Hanjun smiled. It was cute to be called ‘wife,’ though the nickname was usually reserved for Li Ying.

“Thank you.” Hanjun kissed Li Ying and took the lush pink bouquet from him. “Help yourself to borscht, I’ll put these in water.”

“Hanjun?” Li Ying called to him as he filled his bowl.

“Hm?” Hanjun was running water into a vase.

“Is my ass dirty?”

Hanjun turned to stare at Li Ying blankly, and the water overflowed. What was he on about this time, Hanjun wondered. “No?”

“Hanjun, the water. I was just wondering if this all-liquid diet has a reason?” Li Ying was grinning, but Hanjun just frowned at him while pouring excess water from the vase. “Come on, I was joking, your soups are fine!”

“Hmph.” Hanjun turned to put the peonies in the vase and carefully set them on the windowsill.

“Really, it wasn’t a jab at your cooking, you have gotten really good! This borscht is super delicious.” To make a point, Li Ying stuffed his face with more sweet and sour vegetables.

He had to give it to Hanjun: the man had learned a lot during the year they had lived together.

Li Ying couldn’t believe Hanjun had never cooked for himself before they moved in together.

Li Ying supposed he’d always have someone prepare his meals growing up, since it had been painfully obvious Hanjun had never as much as boiled instant noodles until Li Ying had taught him.

“Does your uncle cook?” Li Ying had asked Hanjun, knowing he had grown up in his uncle’s house.

“No.”

Guess not, the man had to be a hustling businessman like Hanjun, being able to buy a home for his nephew from Manhattan prime real estate, so the uncle probably didn’t have time for domestic tasks.

Li Ying had remembered Hanjun mentioning his grandmother living with them, so he had just assumed the grandmother must have been the cook in the Wu household as well: Li Ying himself had learned from ‘Grandma’ Qian, his foster father’s mother.

“But eating out every day is expensive,” Li Ying had said when Hanjun had admitted he didn’t know how to cook. “I will teach you, then we can take turns.”

Li Ying had made good on his promise: he had taken Hanjun to a nearby grocer and showed him what to buy—had he never even had to run to the store for his folks, Li Ying had wondered—and then they had cooked together.

Hanjun was such a perfectionist and hadn’t been happy with his first results in the kitchen, but he had persevered. Now he looked so proud when he could finally present his boyfriend with a perfect home-cooked meal. He had totally become househusband material, Li Ying thought.

Now, if he would only learn how to clean a house properly: before Li Ying had insisted he could tidy up as needed, the man used to have a maid visit him daily.

Li Ying had thought it frivolous. It wasn’t that hard to swing a mop now and then, he had insisted.

Hanjun had obviously been a spoiled child growing up, but Li Ying didn’t hold it against him.

It was obvious Hanjun could afford these comforts. He was well-paid and his family obviously had wealth, but Li Ying thought it prudent to save up for the future: you never knew if you were suddenly laid off or there was sickness in the family. Those things could put a strain on one’s finances.

Li Ying finished his borscht and went for seconds, having worked up an appetite in the emergency room.

“How was your day?” Li Ying asked.

“I had a call with my uncle.”

“Oh? How is he?” Li Ying perked up. Hanjun talked so little about his family, and therefore Li Ying expected the news to be either very good or very bad. He put the dishes in the washer and joined Hanjun on the couch, pulling his knees up as he curled up beside him.

Hanjun looked at Li Ying with an unreadable face. “My secondment in New York will terminate in December.”

“…Oh.” Li Ying knew Hanjun had been working for his company’s affiliate in New York temporarily at his employer’s behest, but he hadn’t thought… Well, he had thought, but resolved to hoping, “Can’t you stay? Ask for a permanent position here?”

“Not possible,” Hanjun said with finality which felt like a punch to Li Ying.

“So, what? You’re just leaving?” Li Ying felt empty.

“I have to go back, at least for now.”

Hanjun could tell Li Ying was shocked by the sudden news, and regretted not having brought up the possibility of him leaving earlier. It seemed like they both had been living in denial of the inevitable.

“Didn’t you want to visit Shanghai?” Hanjun asked.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t console me much if I only get to keep you until December! What do you mean ‘for now?’ When would you be coming back?” Li Ying’s world was threatening to fall apart just like that. “If this is your way of conveniently dumping me, why wait?”

Hanjun stared at him, dumbfounded. “I don’t—”

“I’m sorry if I’m too clingy. Sorry if I bother you all the time, but you could at least be honest if you didn’t want to be with me anymore!”

“Li Ying!” Hanjun raised his voice.

He had grabbed Li Ying’s shoulders so hard the man winced. Hanjun eased his hold. “I’m sorry.” Hanjun stroked Li Ying’s arms soothingly. “That’s not what’s happening here.”

“Is it because of your family?” Li Ying asked. “I understand.” He stared down at his hands, feeling helpless.

“Forget about them.” Hanjun couldn’t believe those words just left his mouth. “This is about us.”

“And what about us?” Li Ying’s choked-up voice was but a whisper. He looked meekly up at Hanjun. “Is this it?”

Hanjun pulled him into his arms. “I hope not.” He ran his hand through Li Ying’s hair. “Please don’t misunderstand me, but you knew my position in New York was temporary.”

“Yeah. I was just hoping that if you loved me enough, I could convince you to stay.”

Now it was Hanjun’s turn to feel like he’d been punched in the face. “That’s unfair.”

Li Ying knew. He felt bad doubting Hanjun’s love and making him feel guilty over his own insecurities, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself.

“I love you,” Hanjun said. “You are…” Don’t fail me now, words! “You are my everything, Li Ying. I know I’ve put off thinking about the inevitable for too long, but this whole day I’ve been trying to figure out how to make this work.”

Every plan Hanjun had hatched was more desperate than the last, but he prayed one of them would work.

“The terms of my return are non-negotiable,” Hanjun went on, “the terms of Uncle Yiheng are non-negotiable. I’m needed at the main office, but depending on your wishes, we can make arrangements.”

“‘Arrangements?’”

“I could visit you as often as I can while working remotely.” Plan A.