Chapter 69:  Wait For Me To Marry You

The time spent accompanying Zhi Qi in the hospital passed particularly quickly. Young people recover well, and even though the delicate young girl had tender skin and a fragile demeanor, after half a month, she was able to hobble around on crutches as a “one-legged warrior.”  

The only thing was, the girl herself was quite dissatisfied with her bandaged calf and the crutches. She couldn’t help but mutter with a hint of grievance, “So ugly.”  

The inconvenience of walking with crutches was secondary—it was just that girls care about beauty, after all.  

“Then don’t go out; stay home and rest properly,” Jiang Qi said. A fracture was no small matter, and the school had directly suspended her classes for three months. His long, slender hand gently ruffled Zhi Qi’s hair. “With the bandages on your leg, it’s inconvenient to go out in the summer anyway.”  

She’d have to wear long skirts or pants, which would be hot and stifling.

It wouldn’t be good if the wound got inflamed.

Zhi Qi’s clumsy attempts at walking made her look like a little penguin. Hearing this, she paused and looked at Jiang Qi with hesitant, dark eyes. “Um… whose home?”

She had actually been worried about this issue for the past few days. It was fine for Jiang Qi to stay with her overnight in the hospital—that was the responsibility a boyfriend should take, and besides, there were doctors and nurses on duty at night. Their interactions weren’t exactly private and still fell within the acceptable boundaries for Mei Ran and Zhi Minglin.  

But if she honestly told them she was already living with Jiang Qi… Zhi Qi didn’t quite have the courage for that yet.

Chances were, as soon as she was discharged, her parents would take her back home. But would Jiang Qi be okay with that?

At this thought, a trace of unease flickered in the girl’s eyes.

“Your own home, of course. My leave is up, and I have to go back to filming. I won’t be able to take care of you.” The faint smile on Jiang Qi’s lips grew even more elusive, but his voice remained soft and deep. He looked up, his amber eyes unfathomable, and asked, “Qiqi, you won’t blame me, will you?”

Zhi Qi was taken aback for a moment, then slowly shook her head.  

After a pause, the girl bit her lip and said, “Jiang Qi, I actually really want to live with you.”

She didn’t want to make Jiang Qi sad either.

But her parents were genuinely worried about her. At a time like this, continuing to “live together” with Jiang Qi would really be inappropriate. Zhi Qi couldn’t help but sigh, feeling truly torn.

If only Mei Ran and Zhi Minglin could like Jiang Qi too.

They didn’t have to like him as much as she did—just… being able to accept him a little would make her feel better.

“Qiqi, don’t overthink it.” What Jiang Qi hated most was seeing Zhi Qi troubled. So, the young man stopped packing her things, walked over, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He leaned down, resting his chin on her slender shoulder, and whispered, “I’ve delayed the film crew’s progress for too long. Director Qu requires me to stay on set for the next stretch. It’s not because of anything else.”

He told the lie while holding her tightly, as if holding his entire world.

“Mm.” Zhi Qi nodded slightly, nuzzling his cheek obediently.

“When you’re able to put down the crutches…” Jiang Qi forced a faint smile and gazed steadily at her. “I’ll come pick you up, okay?”

He wanted to pick her up openly, right in front of her parents.

And then he would tell them that he could protect Zhi Qi properly, for a lifetime.

“Okay.”

Zhi Qi understood the principle that “everything needs time to transition.” But just thinking about her being at home and Jiang Qi on set, unable to see each other for a while, made her sad.

She pushed back the gloom in her eyes and changed the subject, asking with a smile, “Didn’t you say you’d give me a gift when I was discharged? What is it?”

She remembered Jiang Qi’s promise very clearly.

The young man smiled, and then, under Zhi Qi’s expectant gaze, he unexpectedly knelt on one knee on the hospital floor.

“Jiang Qi?” Zhi Qi was startled. Her hand, hanging at her side, was held firmly by Jiang Qi, leaving her unable to move. She could only stare at him in bewilderment. “What are you doing?”

She had no idea what he was up to, and she felt an inexplicable sense of nervousness.

“Your gift.” Jiang Qi pulled a small box from his pants pocket and held it up to her. His face was a mask of suppressed tension, but his voice feigned calm. “Qiqi, will you accept it?”

The small, exquisite box Jiang Qi held up made it obvious to anyone what was inside.  

Accepting such a thing would usually make someone ponder deeply, hesitate, feel uneasy… but Zhi Qi was unconventional. She took it without a second thought.  

She opened the box and looked at the simple ring inside, her eyes curving into happy crescents as she leaned down to ask him, “What made you think of giving me a ring?”  

Jiang Qi watched as the girl took it out and tried it on her finger, a genuine smile warming his eyes. He murmured softly, almost to himself, “I want to keep you bound to me.”  

Zhi Qi didn’t quite catch it, still lost in the surprise he had given her, and instinctively pressed, “What did you say?”  

“Qiqi,” Jiang Qi took a deep breath, looking up at her ivory-pale, youthful face. This time, he spoke clearly, word by word: “I want you to keep your promise.”  

That promise she had made years ago—the one he had once allowed her to break, but she had refused.  

Now, Jiang Qi was asking Zhi Qi to honor that promise.  

Zhi Qi was taken aback for a moment. Seeing the obvious nervousness beneath his cool, composed expression, she couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you’re proposing to me?”  

No wonder he was kneeling on one knee, refusing to get up no matter how she tried to pull him.  

But…  

Zhi Qi looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Do you want me to sneak out the household registration book?”  

Jiang Qi paused, the tension in his brows instantly melting away.  

—Her response was equivalent to saying yes. They could go get married anytime; the only obstacle was the person who controlled the household registration book. Jiang Qi’s real challenge was winning them over.  

But even so, the young man was overwhelmed with joy.

When Jiang Qi smiled, the youthful charm usually hidden behind his aloofness shone through. He seemed like an affectionate puppy, planting gentle kisses by her lips.

Zhi Qi heard him mumble softly, “Qiqi, you agreed.”

“I’m really happy.”

As long as Zhi Qi agreed to this, he could handle everything else.

Jiang Qi was also confident that he could make Zhi Minglin and Mei Ran accept him—with the girl’s love shielding him, he was no longer the insecure boy who had nothing and wanted only to run away.

In Zhi Qi’s memory, this was the first time Jiang Qi had so clearly expressed that he was truly happy.

Zhi Qi was momentarily dazed, then kissed him back with a soft *mwah*. Biting her lip, she giggled, “Me too.”

“Qiqi, focus on recovering well. Wait for me…”  

Jiang Qi paused, then said earnestly, “Wait for me to marry you.”  

With those words from Jiang Qi, Zhi Qi waited obediently.  

It was rare for her to have such a peaceful period—quietly recuperating at home, drinking soup and tea every day. When bored, she would go online to check for updates about Jiang Qi, though most of the time she avoided it because the mindless hate comments were too infuriating.  

Instead, Zhi Qi followed the production team of *Jiao Si* to keep up with the film’s progress.  

She saw posts about the wrap-up of filming, the wrap-party, and more… In fact, Jiang Qi would tell her all about these things during their nightly chats after he finished work.

For example, he’d share how “that wrap-party was a mixed bag of people, full of hypocrisy and pretense—he didn’t want to go but had to anyway.” These were things Jiang Qi found frustrating, but Zhi Qi couldn’t help finding them a little amusing.

She understood that the young man was trying his best to adapt to that circle. To blend in, he couldn’t remain isolated or avoid participating in everything. Perhaps, after all this time, he had realized that “acting” was the career that suited him best.

But what Zhi Qi hadn’t expected was that her “fiancé” was even more remarkable than she had imagined.

One morning, the girl woke up to see the hashtag #JiangQiNewDramaAnnouncement trending on Weibo. Only then did she learn that Jiang Qi had already been preparing to film a new series—and according to Meng Chunyu, the production team was top-tier.

Yet, Zhi Qi felt something was off… Since when had Jiang Qi become so career-driven?

He had just finished filming a movie—wasn’t he going to rest at all?

Zhi Qi couldn’t help but frown, feeling a little unhappy.

—Autumn was approaching, and she could finally throw away the crutches she had been relying on, yet Jiang Qi was still buried in his new schedule and hadn’t come to see her.

Annoying. Really annoying.

The thought lingered, and even during dinner that evening, her mood was subdued. After just a few bites, she set down her chopsticks.

“What’s wrong?” Mei Ran noticed and handed her a small bowl of rib soup. “Is that all you’re eating? Didn’t Auntie’s cooking suit your taste tonight?”

“Nothing,” Zhi Qi shook her head, propping her cheeks with her hands. The simple ring on her ring finger was particularly conspicuous, glinting under the dining room lights.

She had been wearing the ring Jiang Qi gave her ever since returning from the hospital.

After finding out where it came from, Mei Ran found it exceptionally “eyesore,” yet her feelings were mixed.

Seeing the unconcealed loneliness on her daughter’s fair, delicate face, Mei Ran knew she must be thinking about Jiang Qi.

She lowered her eyes, ignoring Zhi Qi’s mood, and took a sip of soup, though it felt like a lump in her throat.

There was something she hadn’t told Zhi Qi: while she was in the hospital, Jiang Qi had actually come to see her and Zhi Minglin.

It was the night before the girl was discharged from the hospital. After lulling Zhi Qi to sleep, the young man paid a visit late in the evening. He came alone, without any polite gifts—because Jiang Qi knew all too well that Mei Ran and Zhi Minglin lacked nothing in terms of material possessions.

What they lacked was confidence in him and the courage to agree to his relationship with Zhi Qi.

That was something he needed to demonstrate to them himself.

Mei Ran remembered the conversation from that night vividly, still able to recall the determination and resolve in Jiang Qi’s calm, clear voice.

The young man never beat around the bush. He got straight to the point, showing her and her husband a contract—he had signed on for a new film.

“After this, I’ll also sign with a company, so there will be a steady stream of income,” Jiang Qi said, pausing briefly after Mei Ran and her husband finished reading the contract with some surprise. “Uncle, Auntie, I know the entertainment industry isn’t the most ideal place, and you might not feel comfortable with your daughter’s future boyfriend making a living there. But… this is the only path I can think of to provide her with the highest quality of life.”

“I know Zhi Qi has been cherished and pampered by both of you as she grew up, and I want to provide for her in the same way.”

“In the entertainment industry, income is stable, and I’ll hand all my earnings over to her to manage.”

“Uncle, Auntie, I hope you… can trust me and give me a chance.”

“I will treat Zhi Qi better than anyone else.”

… 

Treating him as an equal and giving him a chance.  

In truth, whether it was his looks, character, or ability to earn, Jiang Qi was not lacking.  

Moreover, in a way, he had once been the Zhi family’s “benefactor,” saving Zhi Qi’s life, and his feelings for her were undeniable.

By reason and by emotion, faced with such a sincere young man, Mei Ran and Zhi Minglin couldn’t bring themselves to coldly say “no.” Yet, accepting him without any reservations was still too difficult, leaving them ultimately silent.

It was good that Jiang Qi could thrive in the entertainment industry and ensure financial stability.

But Mei Ran and Zhi Minglin were not the type to scorn the poor and favor the rich. From the very beginning, their greater concern had been Jiang Qi’s unpredictable, almost “neurotic” illness.

Could his illness be completely cured?

But now, seeing the two young people exchanging rings, their worries seemed unnecessary.

In the end, the most important factor in whether two people could stay together was “mutual affection.”

Mei Ran gazed at her daughter with complex emotions for a moment, then suddenly let out a long sigh—as if a weight had been lifted.

Never mind, never mind.

Let it be.

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