Beyond Reach - Chapter 78
Shi Sui woke quietly from her sleep, taking a while to come back to herself.
It had been a long time since she’d dreamed of high school.
Dreaming again of the past, of Yan Tingli at seventeen, left her with a vague sense of loss.
She reached out to the cold, empty side of the bed, unable to suppress the longing that welled up.
Shi Sui laughed at herself.
Yan Tingli was only on a business trip to the US to inspect new technology, just half a month, and she was already starting to miss him.
But she couldn’t let Yan Tingli know, or he’d get all smug and put on airs again.
Yan Tingli was still sulking, but Shi Sui was always rushing deadlines and just wanted to sleep, with no time to deal with his petty tantrums.
So Yan Tingli was unhappy.
He became moody and sullen.
When it came to things like this, he always had a strange sense of competitiveness.
He wouldn’t be satisfied unless she showed she liked him and missed him more than he did her.
Shi Sui chalked it all up to him being melodramatic.
Even though this was already their third year of marriage, Yan Tingli hadn’t matured a bit.
Since it was the weekend, Shi Sui slept in, and by the time she got up, the sun was already high.
Yan Tingli wasn’t there, so no one made breakfast.
Even Ping An’s cat food had to be prepared by Shi Sui herself.
In the cat’s eyes, Ping An was already a little auntie over six years old.
But after all these years, her spoiled princess syndrome hadn’t changed a bit.
Cats really do take after their owners.
Shi Sui sighed for the ten-thousandth time.
The cat food she painstakingly made, Ping An would sniff, give a token lick or two, and walk away.
But if Yan Tingli made it, she’d gobble it up clean.
Shi Sui finally understood the bitterness of having her cooking rejected-just like she used to reject Yan Tingli’s.
But now, Yan Tingli’s cooking was actually delicious.
Thinking of this, Shi Sui swallowed, already missing it.
She patted her empty stomach and sighed-she really had been spoiled by him.
So Shi Sui decided to go home to mooch a meal, and ended up staying at her parents’ place for the night.
Without Yan Tingli, the place felt too quiet; it seemed she’d been spoiled to the point where she couldn’t stand being alone for long.
Even by bedtime, Yan Tingli hadn’t contacted her.
He must really be angry.
But Shi Sui didn’t mind coaxing him.
After all, she missed him terribly.
So Shi Sui dialed Yan Tingli’s video call.
After a few seconds, he picked up.
It was daytime on his end; Shi Sui had timed it for his lunch break.
Yan Tingli’s face appeared on the screen, deliberately cold.
He was twenty-seven this year.
Still as young as ever-put him in casual clothes and he could pass for a college student.
Shi Sui often suspected he was secretly using some luxury skincare-like that face cream he’d never told her the brand of after all these years.
But aside from working out, Shi Sui hadn’t found any signs of cosmetic procedures.
So she could only chalk it up to good genes.
“What do you want?”
Shi Sui grinned, “I miss you.”
Yan Tingli snorted lightly through his nose.
Shi Sui didn’t mind. “Honey, when are you coming back?”
“Not coming back.”
Childish.
Shi Sui rolled her eyes inwardly.
But she was patient, lowering her voice: “But Ping An misses your cooking.”
Yan Tingli didn’t look up or respond.
Shi Sui kept coaxing: “I miss you too.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“My mind misses you,” Shi Sui hinted vaguely, “and other parts too.”
“I can’t eat or sleep.”
After years of dealing with Yan Tingli’s thick skin, she’d grown used to this kind of talk, even willing to play along with him in certain ways.
“I don’t believe you.”
Yan Tingli finally leaned closer to the camera, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you show me.”
Shi Sui blushed. “Don’t be such a pervert.”
Yan Tingli: “Be good, show your husband how much you miss him.”
“Liar, I’m hanging up.”
Shi Sui said, “I’m at my parents’ place.”
“That’s even more exciting.”
“……”
“Do you remember that time, above the headboard, in your room?”
Yan Tingli’s expression was lost in reminiscence. “That time, you were really tight.”
Shi Sui couldn’t take it anymore and hung up with a “snap,” then turned off her phone.
She stayed at her parents’ until Sunday afternoon, had dinner, and then drove home at sunset.
As she walked in, Ping An meowed, tail high, coming over to greet her.
She seemed in a good mood.
Shi Sui bent down to stroke her head.
Just as she was about to straighten up, she sensed something and looked up sharply.
She met the gaze of Yan Tingli, who had appeared in front of her without her noticing.
He’d probably just showered, dressed in loungewear, his hair still fluffy from the blow dryer, the backlight making him look even more striking.
But he didn’t move, his expression distant-all part of the melodramatic persona he’d cultivated over the years.
But with this surprise, Shi Sui was so delighted she ignored the cat.
She stepped forward and naturally nestled into his arms, burying her face in his chest.
She took a deep, long breath.
Yan Tingli’s body responded instinctively, giving her the answer she wanted.
His muscles tensed, his breathing deepened, almost inaudible.
Then, a low, husky sound rumbled from his throat.
Shi Sui, unrestrained, ruffled his hair.
The scent of shampoo and body wash filled the air, along with that clean, almost intoxicating pheromone that belonged only to Yan Tingli.
From his youth until now, he has always carried a scent.
Shi Sui was very satisfied, and also quite fascinated.
The moment the two of them met, they stuck together as if glued, leaving Ping An, who felt neglected, to meow twice in protest and rub his head against Yan Tingli’s pant leg.
Unfortunately, all he got was a rather perfunctory pat from Yan Tingli.
Ping An watched indignantly as the two slipped into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them as if to cover their ears and steal a bell.
He let out a snort from his nose.
Hmph!
Do they really think no one can smell the sour stench of their clinging love?
Ping An lay on the floor, sulking.
Sometimes, Shi Sui would come across posts seeking advice about marriage and relationships, talking about the private matters between couples.
Including, but not limited to, the seven-year itch, the loss of freshness in bed, and the age-old topic of losing sexual attraction to each other.
They had been together from eighteen to twenty-seven-almost ten years now.
Ever since Shi Sui decided that Yan Tingli was essentially childish, she acted even more recklessly.
As for whether Yan Tingli still found her novel and exciting-
Shi Sui didn’t think that was a question worth asking.
Isn’t it said that men lose their edge after twenty-five?
Why didn’t that apply to Tingli?
Hadn’t he even had a vasectomy?
At twenty-seven, Yan Tingli hadn’t declined at all; instead, his repertoire and tricks in this area had only grown, with even less restraint.
“This time when we went back, my parents asked again.”
Afterward, Shi Sui stretched her leg out from under the covers and kicked Yan Tingli.
Since last year, Li Yin had been hinting at this topic, asking if they were using contraception.
Shi Sui never knew how to answer.
They weren’t using contraception-they were sterilized.
At the time, she brushed it off vaguely, and Li Yin, being understanding, didn’t press.
But this year, perhaps because many colleagues and friends around her had become grandparents, Li Yin brought it up more often.
Today, she mentioned it again at the dinner table.
In Li Yin’s eyes, she and Yan Tingli now had a stable marriage and finances, and were at the right age-having a child seemed only natural.
Shi Sui once again dodged the topic with a “we’re still discussing it.”
But judging by her parents’ expressions, they were running out of patience; if this went on, they might insist on having her or Yan Tingli go for a checkup.
Shi Sui had once tried to gently suggest “not having children,” but the moment the words left her lips, her parents dismissed it as “absurd.”
In their traditional view, getting married and not having children was akin to a crime.
Shi Sui herself didn’t really care.
Either way was fine.
Without children, it would just be her and Yan Tingli-four seasons, three meals, growing old together.
With children, along with Ping An, they’d be a family of four; she and Yan Tingli would raise a child together, and there would be one more person in the world connected to them.
Shi Sui had learned to step outside conventional thinking, because she was a “quasi-hedonist.”
Whichever path she took, she would be happy.
But now she was caught between Yan Tingli and her parents.
With both sides at odds, Shi Sui found it hard to manage, so she decided to step back and let Yan Tingli handle it himself.
Sure enough, as soon as this age-old topic came up, Yan Tingli’s expression was the same as last time.
“Just tell them directly that I’ve had a vasectomy.”
Shi Sui was shocked. “What if my parents try to persuade you to get it reversed?”
Yan Tingli replied, “Then I’ll say I’m infertile. It’s genetic.”
“……”
Shi Sui was a little stunned.
He’d rather admit he was infertile than have a child.
“Then they might make you seek treatment and feed you all sorts of medicine.”
Yan Tingli frowned.
Over the years, his emotions had stabilized; he rarely showed obvious displeasure.
Now, though, he looked about as impatient as he could get.
But Shi Sui wasn’t afraid at all. She reached out to ruffle his hair and said, unconcerned, “Anyway, you talk to them yourself. Don’t drag me into it.”
Yan Tingli slapped her hand away, turned over, and lay on his side, showing only the back of his head.
But this series of actions often made Shi Sui imagine he was being shy.
The only people who could leave Yan Tingli helpless were her and her parents.
She pressed her lips together, holding back a laugh, and didn’t tease him further.
A few days after learning Yan Tingli had returned from his business trip, Li Yin called and invited the whole family over for dinner.
As expected, at the table, Li Yin and Shi Yue exchanged a glance and brought up the topic.
“The other day, Old Fang called me,” Shi Yue said, “inviting me to his granddaughter’s one-month celebration. Time really flies.”
Li Yin chimed in, “Fang Huaijing got married a year later than you two, didn’t he?”
Shi Sui paused mid-bite, glancing at Yan Tingli out of the corner of her eye.
Come to think of it, when Fang Huaijing got married two years ago, Yan Tingli had generously given a five-figure gift and insisted on attending with her. The smile on his face back then was almost blinding, as if he wanted everyone to know how pleased he was.
Now-
When Shi Sui looked at him again, he didn’t seem to be smiling anymore.
Under the table, Yan Tingli nudged her with his foot, signaling her to say something.
But Shi Sui played dead and moved her leg away.
A few seconds later.
To maintain his “considerate” image, Yan Tingli had no choice but to respond, “Mm.”
Li Yin said, “I saw Fang Huaijing’s daughter-oh, she’s just adorable.”
Shi Yue was more direct: “We’ll have one soon too, right, Li?”
“……”
Shi Sui covered her mouth with her hand, wondering if Yan Tingli would just blurt out that “he’s infertile.”
But after holding it in for a long while-
Perhaps defeated by male pride, Yan Tingli finally said, slowly, “There’s no rush.”
“I want to spend a few more years with Suisui, just the two of us.”
Li Yin said, “Actually…”
“Mom, I’ll go get some more rice.” Yan Tingli smiled and stood up.
Seeing that he didn’t want to talk, Li Yin, understanding as ever, didn’t press further.
That topic ended there.
She thought things would quiet down.
Shi Sui never expected her mother would “casually yet very deliberately” stew herbal soup to nourish their blood and energy.
Yan Tingli began making all sorts of excuses not to eat at home.
Shi Sui did the same.
The two of them darted around like headless flies, but still couldn’t escape Li Yin’s loving soup deliveries to their company.
Gao Linhan and his crew often finished off an entire lunchbox of soup, all of them brimming with energy, cheeks rosy, working overtime with extra vigor.
But with soup this frequent, everyone started to sense something was off.
How weak must you be to need this much tonic?
Suspicious glances occasionally landed on Yan Tingli.
After a week of deliveries, Shi Sui was finally dragged by a desperate, out-of-options Yan Tingli to her parents’ house.
“I’ve been sterilized for years,” Yan Tingli said frankly. “Suisui and I don’t plan to have children.”
Li Yin was so shocked by the word “sterilized” that she couldn’t react for a moment.
She clutched her head and looked at Yan Tingli with difficulty. “Why?”
Yan Tingli’s reason was simple: “I just want it to be the two of us.”
His attitude was calm but resolute.
Li Yin could only turn to Shi Sui for her thoughts.
Shi Sui muddled through: “I’m fine with anything.”
Clearly, they were both shaken and couldn’t understand, but Shi Yue and Li Yin were ultimately open-minded parents.
After a few days of turning it over, though regretful, they accepted their children’s decision.
With the biggest “urge to have kids” problem gone, Yan Tingli was finally at ease.
A year ago, the film “White Crane Youth” was released, earning both acclaim and box office success.
Shi Sui was promoted, now in charge of producing the sequel.
Her salary was still “handed over” every month, and with the year-end bonus, it had grown from the low five figures to the high five figures.
But no matter how much she gave Yan Tingli, he always managed to spend it all in unexpected ways.
For example, this month’s bonus.
Yan Tingli placed an order in a second, buying the most expensive flowers from the florist, and had them delivered to headquarters, presenting them to Shi Sui in front of the entire tech department.
A bouquet every month, never missing a beat.
Shi Sui felt he didn’t value her hard-earned money.
Otherwise, why spend so recklessly!
She gritted her teeth and tried to spend Yan Tingli’s money in return.
But the more she spent, the more there was.
This year, Yan Tingli even made it onto the Forbes Rich List.
Unlike other business tycoons, he rarely attended events, focusing solely on his company and its secrets.
Yan Tingli was a homebody, and Shi Sui joined him at events even less, only occasionally attending private dinners.
This time in Tai City, she tagged along for a meal with Yan Tingli and a gathering with Zhou Xuyan.
Shi Sui never expected to meet someone unbelievable at this private party-Zhou Wenyu.
His looks were so striking, it was impossible to forget him.
Three years had passed, and he now exuded a more mature, hormonal aura.
This was the same elite who played with lions at a century-old estate in San Francisco, indifferent to human life.
And now…
Shi Sui, holding her wine glass, stared in shock as he humbly followed behind a girl, carrying plates.
The girl wore the hotel’s standard uniform, but her beauty was undiminished; her features were gentle, non-threatening.
She still had a lingering student air-most likely a college student working part-time.
As for Zhou Wenyu…
Shi Sui watched him lower his head, obediently listening to the girl, adjusting the wine glasses as she spoke, his eyes never leaving her.
His gaze seemed gentle.
But in reality, it was full of sticky, web-like possessiveness.
The strange feeling was all too familiar.
One word popped into Shi Sui’s mind-pretending.
Clearly, Yan Tingli also saw this scene, letting out a contemptuous snort.
Like repels like.
All of Zhou Wenyu’s disguises were transparent tricks in front of Yan Tingli.
Perhaps their stares were too obvious.
And Zhou Wenyu, always cautious, glanced over, the smile in his eyes fading.
But the corners of his mouth still twitched.
It made his expression oddly out of sync.
Like a lizard.
That was Shi Sui’s first impression.
But in a flash, Zhou Wenyu lowered his eyes naturally.
He said something to the girl in front of him, and her face broke into a smile.
The two left the banquet hall, one after the other.
“He doesn’t want that girl to see us,” Yan Tingli said, hitting the nail on the head.
But Shi Sui had no interest in meddling. “Why is he here?”
“He came on his own.”
Yan Tingli said, “In America, Layson would drag him back.”
“Drag?” Shi Sui didn’t understand why father and son would use that word.
“Zhou Wenyu attempted patricide,” Yan Tingli replied succinctly.
Shi Sui: “…”
She started to worry. “Is that girl in danger?”
Yan Tingli was certain: “No.”
Shi Sui trusted Yan Tingli, feeling a bit relieved.
Not just because of his psychology background, but because people of the same kind always understand each other.
…
After a brief gathering in Beijing, they returned to their routine.
Soon it was mid-year, and she and Yan Tingli had their usual biannual checkups. Everything had always been fine, but this time, Yan Tingli’s report showed a tumor on his auditory nerve, which could affect his hearing.
The test results showed it was benign and could be removed.
Shi Sui was still deathly pale, feeling the world spin around her.
But this man, rumored to be the most afraid of death, showed no reaction at all upon hearing the news.
He even stared straight at her, a gloating expression on his face.
Shi Sui grabbed him by the collar, “You’re still laughing!”
“To the hospital, come on, we’re going to the hospital.”
“I’m begging you, A Li.”
But Yan Tingli didn’t care.
He still looked at her with delight; every worried reaction she had seemed to excite him.
Shi Sui was furious and threatened, “You don’t care, do you? Well, if something really happens to you, I’ll just take Ping An and remarry.”
Yan Tingli’s face darkened as he went to the hospital.
Even though he usually lived a healthy lifestyle, the work pressure was high, he overused his brain, and his emotions were constantly drained.
A brain tumor-basically, it stemmed from all these complicated reasons.
The surgery sounded simple, but after all, it was in the brain.
Shi Sui worried day and night.
All her emotions finally burst out after Yan Tingli safely made it through the post-surgery period.
Hysterical.
But with someone like Yan Tingli, you couldn’t expect him to offer comforting words; he was better at drawing pleasure from her emotional turmoil.
This ordeal dragged on for nearly half a year. Only when all of Yan Tingli’s physical indicators were confirmed normal did Shi Sui finally feel at ease.
From then on, Shi Sui no longer allowed Yan Tingli to work himself to death.
She didn’t need him to make a lot of money.
She only wanted him to be healthy and live a long life.
“You really care about me,” he affirmed again.
Shi Sui replied, “Yes, I care about you.”
But before he could get smug, Shi Sui firmly spoke her next sentence: “Yan Tingli, I want to have a child.”
His smile vanished. “Why?”
“I want you to have more worries in this world, more people to love,” Shi Sui said. “And I want you to cherish yourself more.”
Yan Tingli’s views were still twisted and abnormal.
When it came to his health, he didn’t worry about himself; instead, he perversely drew emotional sustenance from her anxiety.
Shi Sui was furious.
If she wanted to correct his neurotic mindset-
If she wanted him to raise a child with her, to teach him healthy values-
To make him no longer dare to treat his own body as a bargaining chip or a joke-
“If you refuse to have a child,” she said coldly, “then we’ll get a divorce.”
Yan Tingli’s face instantly turned icy, a heavy gloom spreading over him, the kind that hadn’t appeared in years.
But Shi Sui’s mood was even worse.
She wasn’t afraid of him at all now.
She went straight back to her parents’ house.
Yan Tingli’s illness and surgery had also worried Li Yin and Shi Yue sick; they’d been running around for him and had visibly aged.
Shi Sui told them what she was thinking.
Li Yin asked, “So why has Li always refused to have children?”
Shi Sui took a breath and, after so many years, finally told her parents about what had happened in the Yan family.
In Shi Sui’s view, when it came to having children, Yan Tingli was more afraid than unwilling.
In the end, he still believed in fate.
He was afraid of bringing another version of himself into the world, of continuing what he saw as a “dirty” bloodline.
You could say, deep down, he was very insecure.
And so, Shi Sui and Yan Tingli had a cold war for half a month. When he still didn’t respond, she upped the ante and had a lawyer deliver divorce papers.
That evening after work, Yan Tingli blocked her in her car.
His face was pale, his eyes haunted by a sinister darkness.
Shi Sui taunted, “Have you signed? The divorce papers.”
“Impossible. Unless I’m dead.”
Shi Sui sneered, “Really? Aren’t you supposed to be unafraid of death?”
“I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
“You’re not afraid of dying; you’re just afraid that if you die, you can’t control me.”
“If I die, I can’t be with you. I haven’t had enough happiness yet.”
Shi Sui’s heart instantly softened at his words, turning to mush.
“You don’t cherish yourself.”
Yan Tingli said quietly, “It’s enough that you cherish me.”
Shi Sui choked up. “But I can’t stand you not cherishing yourself. What if something happens to you again!”
“I want a child. Will you have one?”
“No.”
Shi Sui was resolute: “Then let’s divorce.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Shi Sui turned her head away.
This time, after a long silence-
Yan Tingli finally forced out a few words from his throat: “We can have one.”
Shi Sui looked at him, her eyes brimming with tenderness, and slowly embraced him. “A Li, believe me, you’re wonderful. Your child will be wonderful too.”
Her palm continued to gently pat him in comfort. “A Li, I taught you how to love me before, and you did it.”
Yan Tingli raised his hand, closed his eyes, and held her tightly.
“Now, I’ll teach you how to love our child. You’ll be able to do it too.”
“Mm.”
“And most importantly, cherish yourself.”
“Mm.”
Love others, love yourself.
Yan Tingli would spend the rest of his life answering that question.
