Chapter Three: The Fiancé

Such a delicate woman, traveling all this way to the harsh, remote northern island with its poor conditions—heh, he wondered how many days she could really last. If she couldn’t adapt to the environment here and wanted to leave, he certainly wouldn’t stop her.

This absurd childhood engagement was never his idea, and he didn’t acknowledge it. But when her parents suggested she come, before he’d even agreed, his own family—impatient for him to get married—had already finalized everything, hurriedly sent her over, and called him to prepare for her arrival.

Cheng Jiu was a heavy smoker, and at that moment, the urge crept up on him again. He pressed his tongue against his back teeth, but remembering how she’d just been coughing, he put the cigarette away in his jacket pocket.

She rummaged through her suitcase, found some thick clothes, and went into the bathroom to change. Cheng Jiu waited patiently for her to finish.

“Do you need my help?” he asked as he opened the door.

By “help,” he meant carrying her.

Xin Gan’s face flushed hot. She refused, “No, thank you, I can walk by myself.”

It wasn’t as though she couldn’t walk—she just had a mild fever.

Her tone was firm; she said no and meant it. Cheng Jiu didn’t insist. “There’s a clinic nearby. Let’s check your temperature.”

The local clinic was small, little more than an outpatient room with only a handful of staff. The doctor seemed to know Cheng Jiu and spoke with him in the local dialect, which Xin Gan didn’t understand. She followed him in a daze, lost in this unfamiliar place where he was the only person she recognized.

After taking her temperature, the doctor glanced at her and said in awkward Mandarin, “It’s not serious, a low-grade fever. I’ll prescribe some medicine—take it with warm water and get some rest. You’ll be fine.”

This time Cheng Jiu spoke Mandarin too. “Thank you for your trouble.”

Xin Gan thanked the doctor as well, then asked, “How much is the medical fee?”

Cheng Jiu let out a quiet laugh, exchanged a few words with the doctor in dialect, then turned to her. “We can go now.”

That laugh left Xin Gan confused about his meaning. She simply followed him out, still in a fog.

On the way back, she asked, “Did you pay for the medicine? How much was it? I’ll pay you back.”

“You want to be that formal with me?” Cheng Jiu replied indifferently.

She was out of breath from walking—she’d spent all day asleep, barely eaten a thing, and had no strength left. “I think it’s better to keep things clear.”

Hearing this, Cheng Jiu gave her a sidelong glance.

He was not bad-looking at all—more mature and steady than the photos she’d seen before, which his parents had shown her so she wouldn’t come all this way without even knowing what her fiancé looked like. But those were old graduation pictures from his university days; there were no recent ones.

Fiancé.

Those three syllables weighed heavily on Xin Gan’s heart; she hadn’t forgotten why she’d come.

But the timing was wrong—she’d never found a chance to bring it up.

Cheng Jiu chuckled softly, his shadow stretched long beneath the streetlights. He tilted his head back, gazing at the oppressive sky. A gust of wind swept by as he said, “It’ll rain tomorrow. Not a good day.”

Cheng Jiu didn’t care about the cost of the medicine, but Xin Gan didn’t want to owe him anything. Back at the inn, she insisted on pressing two bills into his hand. “I don’t want to be indebted to you as soon as I arrive. Even if we have that kind of connection, we’re not there yet. You should take this.”

His expression grew a little stern.

Xin Gan felt a sinking unease, as if returning the money was somehow her fault, as if in insisting on repaying him, she was making things awkward between them. She thought of what her cousin had told her—Cheng Jiu had always had a strong personality, very opinionated since childhood, and a difficult temper. Best not to confront him directly; if anything happened, just endure and complain to the family later.

She stood without moving. Cheng Jiu raised his eyebrows. “Since you’ve come all this way, it’s my duty to take care of you. Don’t overthink it. I just don’t want the families to worry.”

So that was all it was.

Xin Gan realized she’d read too much into it and quietly put the money away.

Only then did Cheng Jiu’s expression soften a little.