I Really Like the Male Supporting Character (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 13
After getting married to Wenren Jin, Ah Luo began to understand what life was like for someone who couldn’t see.
She didn’t usually think much about the fact that Wenren Jin was blind. In fact, if he hadn’t kept mentioning it, she might’ve forgotten about it altogether.
Wenren Jin had always been adept at navigating his life with quiet confidence. He moved gracefully and never showed any sign of helplessness. His bright, clear eyes didn’t betray his blindness, either.
However, after becoming his wife, Ah Luo started witnessing and participating in his daily life. She began to realize the subtle, unwavering accommodations that he required to navigate his life without sight. Wenren Jin’s life was a complex dance of routines and adaptations, and his comments about him having to be accommodated by other people weren’t merely negative self-talk.
The first thing she noticed was the near-obsessive order around him.
Every item in the estate seemed to have its own precise place. If she left a teacup on a table after drinking, it would soon be put back near the teapot by a servant.
When she brought flowers from the garden and placed them on her nightstand, she’d find them back on the windowsill the next time she looked.
One day, she decided to read by the window and pulled over a cushion there to lounge on. When she’d finished, she left the book and cushion where they were with the intention to put them away later. However, when she returned, the book was neatly back on the shelf, and the cushion had also been returned to its original place.
If this were anyone else’s home, Ah Luo might call it obsessive-compulsive. However, considering that this was the home of someone without sight, such order was essential; a stable, unchanging environment brought Wenren Jin the comfort and confidence he needed to move freely.
She understood the reasoning behind the rules, but marriage was more than just sharing space. It was the merging of two lives.
Ah Luo had her own habits. She didn’t pick up her teacup after drinking, nor did she return every book to its place immediately. Sometimes she even rearranged the room on a whim; she’d shift a screen or move a couch to a cozier spot when she wanted to.
The diligent servants might rush to restore everything to its former state, but such reactions only addressed the surface of a deeper issue.
There was no other mistress in the residence, so the marquis’ residence didn’t have many rules for Ah Luo to abide by. After having breakfast with her only elder in the residence—the marquis, on the day after her wedding, Ah Luo had the chance to sort out the items that she had brought with her from the Su family’s residence.
Qing Yuan reminded her countless times of the rigid requirements for item placement that she needed to follow for the sake of her husband.
While Ah Luo tried her best to be mindful of it, their room still ended up a little different.
Her clothing alone was more than Wenren Jin’s wardrobe could hold, so she had added a new one. Then, she brought in a dressing table for her accessories and hairpins. This was not to mention her collection of books, paintings, and musical instruments that took up several more boxes.
“These can go to the study,” she instructed while pointing to the books and calligraphy scrolls.
The study was next door, so Ah Luo led the servants into the courtyard, where Wenren Jin came out to meet them.
The man in white smiled warmly and asked, “Are all of your things arranged, Wife?”
Wenren Jin had offered to help her unpack. However, as he couldn’t see and would only add to the clutter, she’d sent him off to the study instead.
“Nearly, but I thought it might be better to keep some things in the study, if you don’t mind lending me the space,” she replied.
“Of course,” he replied while stepping aside to let the servants bring in the boxes.
The boxes were moved into the study, and Ah Luo followed.
The study was housed in a separate courtyard. The lush green bamboo outside lent the space a peaceful charm, while the interior was clean and elegant. The walls of the study were lined with shelves full of books. Large windows let in ample sunlight, and the air held the faint fragrance.
This fragrance was light and soft, like the fragrance of grass and pine. It was the fragrance created by the mix of the scents of paper and ink inside the room.
Ah Luo inhaled and smiled. She said, “I think I finally know where that scent on you comes from, Husband.”
Wenren Jin paused in surprise. He tilted his head and confusedly asked, “Do I… Do I have a scent?”
“Of course. You’re probably so used to it you don’t notice.” Ah Luo took his hand and brought it to her nose. “I remember smelling this when you rescued me from the lake.”
Wenren Jin’s lashes fluttered. His ears were tinged with pink as he replied gently, “Perhaps it comes from reading. My hands must have picked up the scent of the books, because I read with them.”
Ah Luo was still holding his hand, and she began to inspect it. His hands were beautiful, with slender, well-defined fingers and skin as smooth and cool as polished jade. They were a small treasure she’d longed to touch and examine closely.
She massaged his hand gently, as if she was handling a small, docile creature. He lowered his gaze and blushed silently because of it but allowed her to continue.
Her action and his reaction drew stares of astonishment from a few nearby servants.
The marquis’ heir was warm yet reserved; people around him, including those serving him, rarely got close to him. These servants never expected that there’d come a day when they’d see him with his face flushed and his hand in his wife’s grasp—being massaged and played with. On top of that, he only lowered his eyes and flushed without saying a word of protest against her teasing touch.
Their new mistress was certainly special!
As Ah Luo played with his hand, she gave instructions to the servants and directed them to place her musical instruments near the desk. She also set up a small writing table with her own inkstone and brushes inside the room.
After each instruction, she would pull Wenren Jin over to the area, then look up at him to confirm, “Can I put it here? Does this spot work for you?”
Her agreeable husband would always answer, “Of course.”
He was so agreeable, in fact, that the word ‘no’ never seemed to ever cross his lips.
However, the indulgence came at a cost. By that afternoon, after Ah Luo’s books had been interspersed with his, Wenren Jin found himself standing before the shelves in quiet confusion.
He had been looking for a specific book for a long time. However, with the new additions of Ah Luo’s books earlier this morning, the arrangement had shifted, and now he couldn’t locate that book.
Before today, Wenren Jin had known his study inside out and he had memorised the location of each book in it.
However, with this new disruption, he was left standing before the shelves, once more swallowed by the impenetrable darkness and unable to find his footing.
Ah Luo noticed his unease and approached him. She watched the figure in white lingering before the shelf and called out, “Husband?”
He tilted his head slightly. His expression was calm, but the faint sadness in his eyes was unmistakable.
Ah Luo thought to herself that he likely didn’t realize how transparent his feelings were. Though he hid his emotions well, his amber eyes, which were clear as a spring, betrayed him. In fact, they seemed to invite her to see every thought and feeling within him.
“Are you having trouble finding something?” she asked.
He pressed his lips together and replied quietly, “Yes, a book. It should have been here, but I couldn’t find it.”
“What is it called?”
Wenren Jin told her the title. His voice was even as always, but inwardly, his heart tightened.
This was it—the first time he’d let her see his weakness. He was far from perfect and struggled over something as trivial as a misplaced book.
Would she regret choosing him now?
The next moment, Ah Luo slipped a soft hand into his sleeve and took hold of his hand. Her voice was gentle as she said, “Husband, I found it. Here, feel for yourself.”
She gently guided his hand along the spines of the books before finally stopping at one.
Wenren Jin brushed his fingers over the cover but hesitated to pick it up. His voice was hoarse with emotion as he said, “My wife…”
“Hm?” she responded questioningly in a light and playful tone. She showed no hint of disappointment at his struggle—his shortcoming, and only chided him gently, saying, “Why didn’t you call me if you couldn’t find it?”
“…What?”
Seeing his bewilderment, Ah Luo found herself getting a bit cross, even though she hadn’t been at first. He didn’t even know what he had done wrong. “If you couldn’t find the book, you should have asked me. How long were you planning to stand here if I hadn’t come?”
Wenren Jin stared at her in a bewildered silence. His expression was blank, but the faint traces of sorrow in his expression had yet to dissipate.
This left him looking somewhat like a chastised oversized puppy—obedient, meek, and more than a little lost.
Ah Luo glared at him. However, her heart softened upon seeing him look so pitiful. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest as she whispered, “We’re husband and wife. We’re meant to support each other. Next time, try relying on your wife a little more, alright?”
His voice was hoarse and strained as he replied, “…Alright.”
Suddenly, he raised his arms and, for the first time, held her tightly, as if he was cradling a precious treasure.
The study was an intimate space, filled with mementos and personal relics. Ah Luo, who was curious about Wenren Jin’s world, wandered the room. She browsed through the books and studied the few calligraphy scrolls on the walls, all signed with the name ‘Ziyu.’
Ah Luo paused thoughtfully before calling out, “Husband, is Ziyu your courtesy name?”
“It is.”
“Ziyu… Is it from ‘A jewel I wore in my bosom, a gem I clasped in my hand; but, helpless, I knew no way whereby I could make them seen’?” (1-27)
Wenren Jin nodded. “It does come from that poem.”
Ah Luo approached him with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Then, may I call you Ah Yu from now on?”
Without waiting for his answer, she continued, “Although ‘husband’ is lovely, every wife calls her husband that. I want a name that belongs only to me. Will that be alright?”
She paused, then added, “And you may call me Ah Luo, and it will be yours alone.”
The phrase ‘yours alone’ sent a warm surge through Wenren Jin’s heart, as if a special mark had been engraved there just for her.
Wenren Jin smiled and said, “Okay, Ah Luo.”
Then, he repeated the words that she had said to him on their wedding night, word for word. “You can do anything you want.”
While she bathed in his soft and doting gaze, Ah Luo found herself thinking yet again that the female protagonist was terribly foolish to give up such a kind, gentle soul for a proud, domineering man like the hero.
Ah Luo felt that the longer she stayed with Wenren Jin, the bolder she would become. This time, she asked, “Ah Yu, shall we take a boat out on the lake after dinner? I noticed a lake in the courtyard—it would be great to stargaze from the water.”
Even though he couldn’t see the view, Wenren Jin still smiled and agreed. “Of course.”
Ah Luo was delighted and immediately went off to make the arrangements. In this warm July summer, she was eager for a cooling evening on the water.
If not for her fear of her persona collapsing, she would’ve jumped into the water and swam.
After she left, the room fell back into its usual quiet. However, the quiet that Wenren Jin had once considered peaceful now felt oddly empty and lonely.
Wenren Jin tried to return to his reading, but he found himself repeatedly distracted. His mind kept drifting elsewhere.
Finally, he set his book aside and, following his memory, slowly approached Ah Luo’s writing table.
Gently, he ran his hand over the items there.
A pen stand, likely crafted from fragrant rosewood, held several brushes of different sizes. An inkstone rested beside a smooth stick of pine soot ink. Nearby sat a small, unidentified potted plant that was about the size of his palm.
In the center of the table lay a sheet of floral-patterned paper, with a few words written delicately in Ah Luo’s elegant hand: ‘Wenren Jin’ and ‘Su Luoyan.’ The characters were arranged in two neat columns—each pair was intimately close to the other. Inseparable, even.
Wenren Jin’s long, graceful fingers stilled over the words and lingered there for a long time.