Don't Take a Man Home

On my way home, I picked up a man who looked fierce.

He pointed a gun at me and asked me to save him. I glanced at the expensive watch around his wrist and silently treated his wounds.

Yet, he repaid my kindness with hostility by insisting I become his wife.

01.

The room was dimly lit by a single small lamp, casting shadows that made it difficult to see.

A gun was pressed against my waist, and I dared not move impulsively. I was trying to find words that might save my life.

"You were quick when bandaging me, but now you're moving slowly. Are you stalling for time?" His deep voice whispered in my ear, and each word seemed to tighten around my breath like a slow, suffocating silk ribbon.

But I snapped, "I really don't know how to remove a bullet. What will it take for you to let me go? Please, sir!"

He moved the gun away from my waist, picked up a book from the desk, and held it in front of me. "Do you think I can't read? You're a medical student."

I looked at him helplessly. "I study traditional medicine."

He lost patience and put the book back on the desk. "I don't care. Just get the bullet out."

I cautiously took out my phone and asked tentatively, "Can I look it up? I'm afraid of hurting you..."

He gave a chilling smile and said, "Are you trying to call the police? You've got quite the imagination."

I denied it, saying, "No! I'm not calling the police."

But inside, I was sweating with fear, as he had seen through my mind.

I shouldn't have been curious.

Only because I glanced for a few seconds at the man lying by the roadside on my way home, I was in a life-or-death situation then.

But his watch was a man's Rolex, and its golden face was encrusted with diamonds.

I couldn't help but swallow hard.

He suddenly said, "If you can't get the bullet out, I'll kill you."

The tweezers in my hand fell to the floor with a clatter.

"The more you scare me, the more likely I am to make a mistake."

He clicked his tongue and said, "I'm not afraid of pain. Just get it out."

Finally, he said something not so harsh, and I made a decisive cut at his wound.

Blood flowed down his waist. His face turned pale from the pain, and his lips were bitten until they bled.

I quickly extracted the bullet with the tweezers and hurriedly bandaged his wound.

It was the first time I'd seen so much blood.

I feared nightmares awaited me that night.

He gasped, and his voice trembled. "Do you have... anything for the pain?"

Looking at his bitten lips, I impulsively suggested, saying, "How about a towel to bite on? So you don't hurt yourself."

His eyelid twitched in irritation. "Come here."

I said, "I don't know where the anesthetic is. Can I ask my grandma tomorrow?"

He repeated, "Come here."

I glanced at the gun on the floor and slowly walked over.

He pulled me close and kissed me fiercely.

02.

Maybe he was angry because I suggested he bite the towel, so he vented his anger by biting my lips. I struggled, but he wouldn't let go of me.

I tasted the blood from his wound, salty and metallic. I didn't like such a taste.

Then, instinctively, I licked the corner of his lips to soothe him.

Suddenly, he released me and shouted, "Why are you licking me?"

He was so unreasonable. Didn't he start the kiss?

I glared at him and said nothing.

He hesitated for a moment and asked, "Was that your first kiss?"

I was about to deny it when I suddenly saw his guilty face for stealing a young girl's first kiss.

Hmph.

I blushed and was overwhelmed with shame. I managed to utter a word. "Yes."

He looked at me and casually replied, "Really? Then you got lucky."

He actually said that.

He didn't feel guilty or mention any compensation.

I overestimated him.

With the bullet removed, he was less aggressive. He sat on my bed and chatted with me. "What's your name?"

I rolled my eyes and answered, "My name is Rose."

He frowned slightly and then sneered, "You must write to foreigners often."

I sighed and pretended to find a kindred spirit. "You are right. But it's better now that I'm in college. I don't write much anymore."

He ignored my nonsense and picked up the textbook again. He traced the cover with his finger and read slowly, "Fiona Parkinson."

A chill went down my spine as I heard him call my name.

He must have harmed many people since he was seriously injured like that. He would face his karma.

He said, "What expression is that? Can't I call your name?"

"Call me whatever you want, sir." I quickly adjusted my expression.

Though I wasn't interested in knowing his name, I asked out of politeness.

Unexpectedly, he changed his attitude suddenly as he snapped, "Stop prying."

I seemed to really want to know his name. He was ridiculous.

He paused and then added, "Just call me Shane and see me as your elder brother."

He wanted me to treat him as my elder brother. I thought he seemed more like a little brother to me.

"Hmm?"

"Alright, Shane, I've got it. Shane, are you cold? I'll close the window."

I pretended to close the window and walked behind him. I knocked him out by patting him with a pressure point.

Thankfully, I studied traditional medicine and remembered some pressure points.

There were no men's clothes at home, but I often wore some loose summer shirts and shorts, which were especially comfortable and cool in the summer.

It took me a Herculean effort to change his clothes, wash his dirty clothes by hand, and hang them up. I ended up falling asleep from exhaustion.

When I woke up, I found him propped up on his arm and glaring at me with piercing eyes.

03.

I quickly tried to scramble off the bed, but he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back. "Where are you going?"

I glanced at the bandage on his waist. It had started to bleed again. "To get you a new bandage."

He looked into my eyes and then released me.

I winced slightly from the pain.

"Hey, Shane, when are you planning to leave?"

He let out a cold laugh and said, "Are you trying to kick me out?"

I had to behave myself. Otherwise, I would be dead at any time.

I answered, "No. I'm just asking casually."

"I'll leave when I'm healed."

I fetched a new bandage and a roll of gauze from the medical kit and went over to re-bandage him.

I said, "Shane, my grandma and I are just an old woman and a young woman. We are slow in action and thought, so we might not be able to take good care of you..."

He stared at me and asked, "So?"

I hesitated and thought I was close to annoying him. "Well... your watch is quite nice."

He held it up in front of me and shook his wrist. "Do you like it?"

I swallowed and said nothing.

He said, "If you make me happy, this watch is yours."

Although I didn't know the exact price of the watch, it looked quite expensive.

He suddenly looked down at the baggy shorts on him and tugged at the loose T-shirt. "Where are my clothes?"

He scratched his head irritably and growled, "Where are my clothes? What am I wearing?"

I was taken aback by his shout and replied in a low voice, "I washed them."

He looked at the designer suit hanging on the balcony. It was swaying in the wind.

I had never seen my father, and there were no men at home. So naturally, I had never seen a suit.

His coat and pants were covered in blood, and he couldn't sleep in them directly, or they would dirty the sheets.

So, it was not entirely my fault.

He said, "You still want the watch? Do you know how much the clothes you ruined cost? That suit jacket alone is sixty-eight thousand."

I slowly backed away. "I...I don't have the money to compensate you."

04.

He sighed and took off a pendant from his neck. He handed it to me and said, "You don't need to compensate me. Take this as collateral and buy me a proper set of men's clothes."

His actions were truly puzzling.

In modern society, it was the first time I'd seen collateral.

I touched his jade pendant. It was lustrous and finely crafted, not like ordinary jade.

According to what happened in the stories, it must have been given to him by someone important.

When he returned to his wealthy family, he might come back and look for it. So I should keep it safe.

I got out with my purse and phone. I made a call to my best friend as I walked. After hearing my story, she hesitated for a moment and asked, "Is his watch really a Rolex?"

"Pretty much. I remember the logo was Rolex."

My friend gasped. "So he's wearing a watch worth over two hundred thousand and a suit worth sixty-eight thousand. But he's staying at your place and not leaving."

"He said he's recovering from his injuries and will leave once he's healed."

My friend slapped her thigh and said, "Wow, your life is about to get better! You saved a fallen young man from a rich family. After he returns home, he might give you some shares."

I laughed along with her and said, "Is there really such a good thing?"

But then I thought of his fierce demeanor. Was he a young man from a rich family? He might be more like a mafia boss.

I reluctantly used my savings to buy him a set of sportswear.

When I returned home excitedly, I found he was gone.

The loose summer shirt and shorts were neatly folded on the bedside table.

The designer suit was still swaying in the wind on the balcony.

My grandma ran a traditional medicine clinic. Through this, she supported my education.

During the day, she worked at the clinic, and in the afternoon, I made some food to bring over and eat with her together.

My grandma massaged her aching back and remarked, "My health is getting worse. Sitting all day makes my back ache."

I immediately stood up and said, "Grandma, let me massage your back."

She stopped me by pressing my hand down. "No, thank you. Just have your dinner."

She put some vegetables in her bowl and then added a few pieces of meat to mine.

She said slowly, "Your mother..."

My face immediately darkened. "Did she ask you for money again?"

The clinic door was pulled open, and I quickly put down my plate to greet the visitor. Seeing the well-dressed man, I was stunned.

My grandma followed behind me and asked him, "Are you here for medicine or a consultation?"

Hadn't he left? Why was he back?

He replied, "I need a consultation first and then some medicine."

And somehow, things turned out that way.

Shane sat across from my grandma. She checked on him while he and I exchanged glances. He smiled smugly.

But in the next second, his smile faded as he heard my grandmother's words. "Young man, how come you're so young yet suffering from anemia and fatigue?"