Her Marriage: The Night is Still Young-Chapter 173: Remembering and Missing Are Different

Chapter 173: Chapter 173: Remembering and Missing Are Different

Josephine raised her eyebrow slightly, not exposing the stubbornness he struggled to maintain in his eyes, but said plainly, "Alright, take a moment to compose yourself. Uncle Lewis should be delivering breakfast soon, I’ll go grab some bowls and chopsticks."

She turned and walked toward the cafeteria.

Her steps were light, her canvas pants brushing through the grass, lifting a few dew-covered blades.

Julian watched her back, squeezing the mouthwash bottle in his hand until it crumpled.

He hadn’t seen wrong earlier; there was still some dirt not cleaned off on her wrist, and there was a faint gray line in the crevices of her nails.

But she seemed utterly unaware, as if the gritty reality suited her just fine.

Shane, clearing away the water jug nearby, suddenly spoke, "Bravado won’t help, if you really can’t handle it, just say so."

Julian cast him a sideways glance, about to retort, when that swollen discomfort in his stomach surged again.

With gritted teeth, he shuffled towards the dry toilet, taking two steps only to look back.

He saw Josephine talking with Uncle Lewis at the cafeteria entrance, holding two white porcelain bowls. The morning light fell upon her profile, adding a layer of radiance, exceptionally dazzling.

He might really have fallen.

Entrapped willingly in her grasp, unable to escape.

"For Josephine, what’s this minor hassle?" he muttered, rushing into the wooden corner with eyes shut.

The stench enveloped him instantly.

He held his breath tightly, blocking his nose with tissue paper. Dare not open his eyes, only hearing flies buzzing chaotically near his ears, the soil beneath soft as if ready to give way.

A few minutes later.

He emerged from the dry toilet as if having fought a hard battle, cold sweat on his forehead, his expression extremely grave.

Josephine happened to pass by carrying breakfast.

Seeing his state, she felt somewhat sympathetic.

She paused, placing the bowl on a nearby stone table, quickly retrieved a pack of wet wipes from her bag and handed them over: "Wipe your hands."

Julian took the wet wipes, his stomach churning horribly, he couldn’t even tear open the packaging.

Josephine sighed, reached out to tear open one corner for him.

Their fingertips inadvertently touched, his hand ice-cold, as if just retrieved from icy water.

"Josephine, am I pathetic?" he lowered his head, his voice muffled, "Can’t even handle a toilet."

Josephine said nothing, merely crouched down, rummaging through her canvas bag for a small medicine box.

"Take two pills when your stomach feels uncomfortable."

"If you really can’t handle it, I have a toilet tent in my room. There’s a portable toilet too, you can use it."

"Of course, I still hope you can go back, there’s no need to bear such hardship here."

Julian looked up at her.

Her eyes were devoid of mockery, only calm and sincerity.

She knew he came here for her.

She might not be moved, but she wouldn’t force him to adapt to everything here.

Julian’s face was full of frustration, really contemplating retreat, "Josephine, everything else is fine, just...just this toilet, I truly can’t stand it."

Josephine smiled gently, "If you can’t stand it, then don’t."

"Later, just leave here, return to Caldwen, it’s really not suitable for you."

Julian: "If I leave, what about you? Why don’t you come back with me? Josephine, you really don’t need to stay here."

"Did you tell me you’re staying here to avoid Nathaniel? I’m telling you, you have no reason to be afraid of him."

"I will protect you, won’t allow him to harm you in the slightest."

Upon hearing this, Josephine’s smile cooled, "Julian, you’re overthinking."

"I came here to pursue my dreams, not for anyone else. Besides, I’m not as fragile as you think, I don’t need anyone to protect me."

"Although it’s tough here, I’ve learned a lot. I’m quite happy, quite fulfilled."

Julian looked unconvinced, "Really?"

"Of course it’s true."

"Then you...you’re sure you’re not thinking of him?"

Josephine froze, "Who?"

Julian said sourly, "That person!"

"..." Josephine furrowed her brows, pondering for a few seconds.

Truth be told.

Occasionally over the past six months, she’d think of Nathaniel.

But reminiscing and longing are different.

He left such a deep scar in her life, how could she possibly forget?

Only, she would never love him again, nor hate him.

Because whether it’s love or hate, both are consumption of emotion and energy.

He’s not worthy of her emotional expenditures.

Only indifference and suppression can truly insulate. Parting ways, forgetting each other in this life.

Seeing her expression turn solemn.

Julian felt a pang in his heart, quickly changing topics, "Alright alright, let’s not dwell on unhappy matters."

"~I’ve decided, I’ll stay. Don’t worry, I’ll overcome all challenges to become the village hero deserving of the village flower."

"Huh?" Josephine looked bewildered.

Julian’s handsome face showed a mischievous smile, "You’re the village flower, I’m the village hero, we’re a perfect match."

"..." Josephine furrowed her brows, at a loss for words.

"What’s for breakfast? I’m hungry."

"Oh~ breakfast is buns, eggs, milk, and soy milk among other things."

Julian looked satisfied, nodding, "Not bad, I can eat all of them."

After speaking.

He took the breakfast from her hands and ate two eggs.

Josephine said no more.

Anyway, let him mess around.

Let him suffer for a few days, just as an experience of life.

...

After breakfast.

Josephine and the staff started busying themselves again.

Julian claimed he came to be a recorder.

But in reality, he did nothing, just followed Josephine around, pretending to be her assistant.

Aside from her, anyone else calling him for help would be ignored.

By eleven o’clock noon.

The temperature rose.

As the sun reached its peak, even the mountain breeze carried scorching heat.

The soil along the edge of the excavation pit was dried to a pale white, burning one’s soles when stepped on. The air was filled with dust and the smell of sweat, even the cicadas sounded weakly irritable.

Julian followed Josephine and Shane as they marked stratum lines for the digging unit.

As he plunged The Tomb-Finder’s Shovel into the soil and pulled it out, it was already carrying a wave of scorching heat.

He was wearing an ice silk shirt, his back soaked with sweat and sticking uncomfortably to his body. The hair on his forehead was also wet, dripping down and sliding into his collar, giving a brief coolness before being warmed again by his body heat.

"Mr. Grant, please place this scale over there, align it with the edge of the excavation pit." Shane Lynch’s voice came from the bottom of the pit.

He was wearing a work suit faded to white, with mud on his face, yet not a trace of irritation, as the brush in his hand softly dusted off a piece of pottery.

Julian Grant acknowledged, bent down to pick up the scale, and as soon as he straightened up, he felt his vision blur.

The sun hung overhead like a fireball.

The light was dazzling, causing his eyes to blur, and there was a buzzing in his ears, making Lynch’s words seem as if they were coming through water.

He gritted his teeth, forced himself to push the scale into the ground, and as soon as his fingers touched the scorching metal rod, he jerked his hand back.

It was too hot, as if it might catch fire.

"Ssss." He hissed.

"Are you okay?" Suddenly, Josephine Thompson’s voice came from the edge of the pit.

She had just come over from another excavation pit, holding a military water canteen.

Seeing his pale face and chapped lips, her brows immediately furrowed, "Why is your face so pale? Are you suffering from heatstroke?"

Julian Grant wanted to shake his head and say he was fine, but his throat was so dry it hurt, and he couldn’t catch his breath. His vision went dark again, and he nearly staggered and fell.

Josephine quickly helped him with a swift hand, her fingers touching his arm, which felt as hot as a warming stove.

"Saying you’re fine! You’re clearly suffering from heatstroke." Josephine shoved the canteen into his hand and led him under the old pagoda tree, "Quick, rest in the shade. This shirt of yours doesn’t breathe at all, standing under the sun is just asking for trouble."

Under the old pagoda tree, there was dappled shade, and the breeze brought a bit of coolness.

Julian Grant sat down leaning against the trunk.

He unscrewed the canteen and took a few gulps; the cool water slid down his throat, yet somehow it made him feel worse.

Right now, all he wanted was a chilled drink.

And then to soak in a cold bath.

"...I’m okay, just a bit hot," he said breathlessly, his voice still somewhat weak.

Josephine squatted in front of him, reaching out to touch his forehead; the coolness of her fingertips made him shudder.

She withdrew her hand with a frown, "You’re so hot and still trying to pretend."

Saying so, she rummaged through her canvas bag and pulled out a bottle of herbal cooling water, unscrewing it and handing it over, "Drink this, it’ll make you feel a bit better."

The strong smell of alcohol from the medicinal drink made Julian Grant wrinkle his nose. Normally, he didn’t even like taking pills, let alone something bitter and spicy like this.

But seeing the worry in Josephine’s eyes, he didn’t dare refuse, pinching his nose and gulping it down.

The spicy liquid slid down his throat, making him cough and bringing tears to his eyes.

"Showing off," Josephine handed him a tissue, then took out a small fan from her bag.

It was the battery-operated portable kind, with a gentle breeze that brought a bit of coolness, "Take a breeze."

The fan’s breeze caressed his cheeks, carrying the slight coolness of her fingertips.

Julian Grant watched as she squatted beside him, sweat also on her forehead, unable to spare a hand to wipe it while she rummaged through her bag. He suddenly thought of that dry pit later that morning, and the folding bed that made him sleepless last night, and felt a twinge of bitterness in his heart.

"Do you usually... find it this hot too?" he asked softly.

Josephine took out a cold towel, handing it to him to put on his forehead, and smiled at his words: "It’s a habit. Summer is always like this; by noon we hide in the shade to rest, and continue in the afternoon."

She paused, glanced at his soaked shirt, "If you really can’t take it, you can go and rest in Captain Zimmerman’s tent, there’s air-conditioning."

Julian Grant gripped the towel tighter.

He had been holding out under the sun, not wanting her to think him still the pampered Julian Grant.

"I won’t go."

He sniffed, moving the fan closer to her, "You use it too. I’m alright, a little rest and I’ll be good to go."

Josephine was taken aback, seeing his red-rimmed eyes and stubborn demeanor, and suddenly laughed.

Truly, he was trying hard.

She didn’t take the fan, simply stood up: "You rest long enough before moving again. I’ll go get you a bottle of ice-cold mineral water; Uncle Lewis brought an ice bucket this morning, it’s hidden under the tree."

Watching her head toward the cafeteria, Julian Grant pulled the towel over his eyes. The fan’s breeze still blew, carrying a hint of sweetness, making even the heat in the air seem less unbearable.

He thought, really, a little heat wasn’t so bad. As long as he could stay close to her, it didn’t seem too hard.

...

By the afternoon.

Julian Grant had visibly tanned a few shades.

In just two days, he was almost turning into a rough man.

His hair was messy and uncared for, and his expensive custom-made white shirt was dirtied like a map.

If his parents and grandparents saw this, they’d probably cry in distress.

After finishing work in the evening.

"How are you doing? Still able to handle it?"

"Hiss~ Underestimating me like this. If you can handle it, why wouldn’t I, a grown man, be able to?"

"Hehe," Josephine smiled helplessly.

Seeing her smile, Julian Grant followed suit with a smile, "Of course, a reward would be even better."

"What kind of reward do you want?"

Julian Grant replied without hesitation, "A kiss."

"..." Josephine’s smile froze, staring at him in a daze.

Julian Grant teasingly chuckled, leaning in for a kiss, "Village flower, give me a reward kiss."

His face was only half a foot from hers.

To be honest.

His features were truly handsome, the kind of perfection that was beyond reproach. More refined and more pleasing to the eye than Nathaniel Gallagher.

But for some reason.

She just didn’t dare to love him, even more unprepared to open her heart to him.

He was too unpredictable.

Always giving others a sense of danger and unreliability.

"...Stop joking," Josephine saw her take half a step back, and his joking intent diminished a bit but didn’t retreat, just smiling at her, "Just teasing you."

Josephine clenched the strap of her canvas bag, not speaking, the evening breeze wafting over the excavation pit, carrying the earthy and grassy scent, weighing down her heart.

She knew it wasn’t a joke from him.

But she had just fled messily from her past relationship and wasn’t ready to start a new one.

"A reward, huh~" Julian Grant suddenly straightened up, glanced towards the cafeteria, then shifted the topic, "Did Uncle Lewis make green bean soup tonight? Could I get an extra bowl? Consider it your reward for me not dragging behind today."

Josephine let out a breath of relief, yet felt inexplicably uncomfortable, nodding, "Help yourself, as much as you want."

"Sure thing!" he responded cheerfully, turning to walk towards the cafeteria, yet his steps weren’t as lively as usual, his silhouette stretched long in the twilight, seemingly solitary.

Josephine stood still watching for a moment, a sudden pang of sourness in her heart.

Shane Lynch climbed up from the excavation pit behind her, patting her shoulder, "He helped sift through two bags of soil today, didn’t slack off."

He paused, glancing in the direction of Julian Grant, "Just that he kept watching you, passing you the shovel when you were digging, handing you a pen when you were taking notes. When I asked him to help move some specimen boxes, he said ’after Josephine’s finished.’ Mr. Grant’s dedication to you, don’t let it go to waste."

"Lynch, please don’t," Josephine cut him off, her voice a bit low, "He’s just curious for now, in a few days he’ll get tired of this and naturally leave."

Shane Lynch chuckled, not pressing further, just bent to tidy up the tools, "This place, the novelty wears off fast. But really, his hands got quite a few blisters from handling The Tomb-Finder’s Shovel today, yet he didn’t utter a word."

Josephine felt a thump in her heart.

When she handed him the wet tissues in the morning, his hands were still smooth.

She really felt a bit heartache.