Chapter Eleven: Quarrels and Two Mortals

Ma Dongmei and Wang Lei had an argument.

It was the end of July, and Nanjing’s weather remained as scorching as a steamer. The oppressive humidity, stifling heat, and the city’s ever-growing density contributed to a sweltering island effect, making the residents restless and irritable.

Yet, the reason for Wang Lei and Ma Dongmei’s quarrel wasn’t the relentless heat. Although their relationship wasn’t officially defined, there was an unspoken understanding between them that many long-married couples lacked.

Their dispute stemmed from Ma Dongmei’s impending departure: she would soon join the national team for mid-August training, followed by the World Women’s Volleyball Grand Prix in Southeast Asia. Ma Dongmei wanted to hire a caretaker for Wang Lei while she was away, but Wang Lei was stubbornly opposed to the idea.

Wang Lei’s recent changes had brought Ma Dongmei great joy, but her concern for him made her anxious. She wanted her Lei to be safe and whole, always by her side. For her, arranging a caretaker while she was away was a necessity.

Wang Lei, however, felt that though his mobility was limited, he couldn’t rely on a caretaker every time Ma Dongmei was absent. He was merely disabled—missing his left calf—but he wasn’t entirely helpless. In fact, he saw Ma Dongmei’s training as a perfect opportunity to test his independence.

“We have to find someone. Otherwise, I won’t have peace of mind when I leave,” Ma Dongmei insisted, her stubbornness shining through—a trait she’d likely inherited from Li Weihong.

“Then tell me, should we hire a male or a female caretaker? If it’s a woman, you’ll worry. If it’s a man, I’ll worry. You decide,” Wang Lei replied, resorting to mischief. He knew just how stubborn Ma Dongmei could be—a trait that sometimes annoyed him, but also proved how deeply she cared for him.

“What’s wrong with a male caretaker? At least he’d be strong enough to help you,” she retorted.

“Silly girl, what if the male caretaker isn’t trustworthy? What if he sees I’m disabled and runs off with our things? Or worse, what if he’s attracted to my good looks?” Wang Lei teased.

“Huh? How could a man possibly—”

“Why not? These days, if you look online, many people claim same-gender love is true love,” Wang Lei replied, smirking.

“And what about a woman?” Ma Dongmei hesitated, troubled by his words. Wang Lei had struck a nerve.

“Meimei, haven’t I been managing just fine these past days? When you’re not here at noon, I cook for myself or order takeout—either way, I won’t go hungry. And we have phones. If you’re worried, just call me more often,” Wang Lei said, drawing on his experience from two worlds to pacify this stubborn girl.

Just as Ma Dongmei was about to concede, the doorbell rang.

Since they’d moved in two years prior, few visitors had come to their cozy home. Ma Dongmei’s teammates knew the address, but most avoided visiting out of consideration for Wang Lei. They’d seen him when he was little more than a walking corpse, and after that, the girls rarely returned.

Still lost in thought over Wang Lei’s teasing, Ma Dongmei shuffled to the door.

“Two men together? Ugh, that’s disgusting. How could that ever happen!” she thought as she opened the door, only to find the team captain Lin Na and two unfamiliar men standing outside.

“Na-jie, what brings you here?” Ma Dongmei asked.

“These two have been looking for Wang Lei. They didn’t know where he lived and have been circling the training base for two days. They tried to find you, but you always rush home, so they finally stopped me,” Lin Na explained.

Zhang San and "Li Si" looked downcast. They had arrived in Nanjing two days before, and the oppressive weather nearly brought the two northern men to tears. They’d wandered outside the Yangtze training base every day—Zhang San, the older one, even suffered heatstroke yesterday. If not for "Li Si’s" quick thinking in intercepting Lin Na as she left the base, they might still be waiting.

“Who are you? What business do you have with Lei?” Ma Dongmei asked, instantly alert at the sight of two strangers who looked far from trustworthy.

Though Ma Dongmei found the two suspicious, the “literary workers” were equally intimidated by Ma Dongmei and Lin Na. Despite both men standing over a meter eighty, beside Lin Na at 1.98 meters and Ma Dongmei at 1.88, they seemed small.

“Please don’t misunderstand. We’re from the Capital’s Dream Three Theater. This is our boss, Zhang San. We’re here to discuss with Mr. Wang the story he posted on Swift Broadcast,” Li Yongxiu explained quickly, revealing their purpose and raising Zhang San’s credentials to ease the tension.

“Zhang San? You wouldn't happen to be called Li Si as well, would you?” Lin Na asked, recalling her earlier suspicion. She’d only agreed to bring them after checking their stamped and sealed credentials, but she hadn’t expected the “General Manager Zhang’s” name to be so peculiar.

“Heh, my family does call me Si, and friends do too. If you like, you can call me Li Si,” Li Yongxiu replied, displaying a humility that belied his height and build.

As he spoke, Li Si took out all his documents from his backpack, knowing he had to win over these formidable women before being allowed in. He couldn’t help but notice how imposing this young woman was, not just in height but in every respect.

“Oh, you’re from a theater? Here to ask my Lei for rights? If you really can adapt and stage his story, I’ll definitely encourage Lei to agree,” Ma Dongmei said, her suspicions eased by their credentials and now eager to help. In her eyes, if Lei’s story could reach more people, all the better—joy shared is joy multiplied.

“Thank you, thank you. Do you think we could speak with Mr. Wang Lei in person?” Zhang San, though the general manager, knew he was here to make a request and did his best to be deferential.

Inviting the guests inside and trying to persuade Lin Na to stay—she still wanted her advice on whether to hire a caretaker—Ma Dongmei led them in.

As Zhang San and Li Si entered, the first thing they saw was a tall figure in shorts and a tank top. His pale skin and relaxed muscles marked him as a homebody, but what drew their attention most was the left leg, ending abruptly at the knee beneath his brightly patterned shorts.