Chapter 9 He Took Her to the Dark Mountain

Back at Wentworth's place, Matilda put away her luggage and then just sat in her room in a daze.

She felt terrible, like a tangled ball of yarn—one moment thinking about moving to a new place, the next about Brianna, and then her childhood memories.

She wanted to cry, but couldn't.

Later, Wentworth came knocking on her door.

Standing at the doorway, he asked, "Matty, are you hungry? What would you like to eat?"

Matilda glanced at the time—8 PM. She shook her head, "Don't worry about me. I'll just make myself some instant noodles in a bit."

Wentworth's face turned cold. "How can that junk food be nutritious?"

Matilda explained, "I've studied nutrition. Instant noodles aren't super nutritious, but they're not junk food either. If you add an egg or some vegetables, it's actually pretty balanced."

Wentworth shook his head. "Let's go out to eat. My treat."

"Where to?"

"Come with me. I know a place that's perfect for dinner."

"Won't it be too much trouble?"

"No."

...

Half an hour later, Matilda sat in a pavilion on top of a hill, holding a steaming bowl of beef and vegetable soup.

Wentworth had bought this soup from a roadside food cart, because there were no restaurants on the hilltop—they could only buy from the food stalls at the foot of the hill. Wentworth had specifically asked the vendor to add extra homemade beef meatballs to make it more flavorful.

As soon as they arrived at this spot, Matilda understood why Wentworth had brought her here.

From the hilltop pavilion, you could see half of Phoenix City. At night, Phoenix City was lit up with thousands of lights, like brilliant stars.

With such an open view, standing here made you feel incredibly small, and somehow all those worries and personal troubles seemed insignificant.

In life, apart from life and death, everything else is small stuff.

Matilda felt her mood lift considerably.

When her mood improved, she felt hungry. She picked up the bowl of beef and vegetable soup and slowly sipped it, finding the homey flavor especially comforting.

Wentworth beside her was also eating.

Perhaps because of his profession, he ate in a rough manner, though with a certain elegance—he ate quickly and took big bites, but didn't make slurping sounds. He must have been taught proper manners from a young age.

"Wentworth, thank you for bringing me here," Matilda said.

Wentworth smiled. "When I was little, if I was in a bad mood, I'd come here and shout a few times. Always made me feel better."

"Shout a few times?"

"Yeah, try it!"

"Does it work?" Matilda hesitated. She rarely shouted in front of others.

Wentworth put down his food, stood up, and shouted toward the distance, "I, Wentworth Gonzaga, will become the best warrior!"

After shouting, he said to Matilda, "Like that. Try it—shout out your wishes or troubles. You'll feel much better."

Matilda hesitated, but Wentworth looked at her with encouraging eyes.

She decided to go for it.

She stood up and shouted toward the distance like Wentworth had, "I, Matilda Spencer, I'm going to live well! All you people who treated me badly, get lost, just get lost! You're trash, you're garbage, and I won't forgive you!"

As she shouted, she felt the troubles she'd been holding inside for so long slowly dispersing. Her tangled, yarn-like emotions were gradually straightening out.

Since eighth grade, she'd had stomach pain every time she got her period. Sometimes she'd wake up in pain in the middle of the night and cry until morning.

When she was sick with fever, she'd force herself to boil water and go to the pharmacy to buy medicine.

During holidays, when other families were celebrating together, she could only huddle alone in her room reading, or lie by the window watching kids in the distance play with fireworks.

Her face felt cool—tears were streaming down.

She wiped them away and shouted again, "It doesn't matter anymore! None of it matters!

"I'm independent now. I can decide everything for myself. I can take care of myself. Matilda, you can do this!"

After shouting, she felt completely refreshed.

Too bad there was no alcohol here, or she would definitely have a few bottles.

"Wentworth, I feel much better. Thank you!" Matilda sat back down next to Wentworth.

In the night, Wentworth's eyes were bright.

He smiled. "I'm glad you're okay."

Then she looked at him too.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, she felt her heart skip a beat.

She quickly looked away and focused on finishing her beef and vegetable soup.

After breaking up with Reuben, she'd told herself not to fall for men so easily. Even though she'd agreed to marry Wentworth, she had to keep her feelings in check. She could let men take advantage of her body or money, but not her heart again.

...

On the way up, they'd taken a taxi.

But going down, they couldn't get a car and had to walk.

Fortunately, with the city lights below, the mountain wasn't too dark—just dimly lit.

Matilda walked beside Wentworth. Even though they were walking at night, with him there, she didn't feel scared at all.

Because of his profession, Wentworth walked very upright, with a straight back—proper and righteous.

Matilda suddenly had a thought: What would someone like this be like doing that kind of thing after marriage?

Would he be all proper and by-the-book too?

Would there be no romance?

When she was with Reuben, he used to say she had no sense of romance. If she was going to marry Wentworth, wouldn't that be even worse?

Wait, that didn't seem right. If Wentworth had no sense of romance, he wouldn't have brought her to the hilltop to shout at night.

As Wentworth walked, his eyes looked ahead, but his peripheral vision was on Matilda.

The mountain was quiet, the night gentle, the distant lights soft. The woman he was going to marry was right beside him. Should he hold her hand?

He tested the waters, walking alongside her until his fingers touched hers, but she instinctively moved away from him.

She seemed lost in thought and didn't even notice the large rock ahead.

Wentworth deliberately didn't warn her, letting her kick it.

Matilda kicked the rock and stumbled forward, about to fall.

Wentworth caught her just in time.

Matilda fell right into Wentworth's arms.

His chest was so firm, like a wall, but also quite reassuring. Matilda almost wanted to reach out and poke it.

She looked up and met his bright, sparkling eyes.

"Are you okay?" Wentworth asked.

"I'm fine, thank you." Matilda breathed a sigh of relief, but then felt nervous again.

Wentworth looked at her, his voice husky and magnetic. "Good that you're okay."

For some reason, Matilda suddenly felt like she'd been shocked, her whole body going weak.

She was about to step away from him when strange, passionate sounds came from behind a nearby rock.

"Baby, I can't hold on anymore."

"Quick, harder!"

Someone nearby was having sex!

Matilda quickly moved away from Wentworth.

How embarrassing—they'd come out to shout and clear their minds, only to run into this.

Wentworth watched Matilda hurry away nervously and couldn't help but smile.

...

Morning.

Matilda and Wentworth sat together eating breakfast.

He'd gone downstairs to buy it.

"Wentworth, do you get up this early every day?" Matilda asked.

She'd gone to bed late last night. When she got up to use the bathroom at 1 AM, she'd seen his room light was still on.

Wentworth paused. "Yeah, I don't need much sleep. But last night I actually slept pretty well."

"Just a few hours isn't enough." Matilda had studied Chinese medicine and knew the importance of health. "People should sleep at least 7 hours to be healthy."

"I'll try," Wentworth said.

Matilda suddenly remembered his injury and quickly asked, "By the way, how's your wound? Did that doctor friend of yours put medicine on it yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Can I... take a look?" Matilda was mainly worried.

She was concerned he might be lying about seeing a male doctor because of his reputation or embarrassment.

Wentworth paused, probably knowing what she was thinking, and said, "Sure."

...

Matilda had Wentworth take off his pants and lie on the couch while she pulled up a small stool to sit in front of him.

When she saw the wound on his leg, she was suddenly shocked.