Chapter 82#
The weather was very good.
There was no wind or rain, only brilliant sunshine.
Aside from the young people rushing to work in the early morning, there were many elderly people sitting by the roadside or strolling slowly. Large clouds of steam rose from the breakfast stalls along the street, and the shouts of vendors were incessant.
Small towns were just like this: crowded, noisy, leisurely, and fulfilling.
The bookstore had been open for a while.
Liang Youjun was dusting the bookshelves with a feather duster when he asked Zhao Rong, who was reading, “Should we close the door when people arrive later?”
Zhao Rong shook his head.
Liang Youjun hesitated for a moment, then put down the feather duster, sat opposite Zhao Rong, leaned over the table, and whispered, “Can I gossip a bit?”
Zhao Rong looked up from his book, glanced at him, and said, “You want to ask about Qiao Nanqi?”
“I know it’s not good to ask about the boss’s private affairs, but we’re friends,” Liang Youjun said, leaning forward as if sharing a secret, despite there being no one else around. “I’m just curious. Even though I don’t know what happened between you and Young Master Qiao before, looking at him now, he seems to really like you.”
At the word “like,” Zhao Rong’s brow twitched slightly. “Love isn’t something that can be defined so simply.”
“Well, even if we don’t call it love, he clearly cares about you a lot. I’d believe it if a man like him kept ten or eight young lovers by his side, but seeing him like this… it’s the first time for me. But I see you, Boss…”
“Do you not like him?” Liang Youjun asked.
Zhao Rong had never been secretive about the past. When Liang Youjun asked, he had intended to listen casually and give a casual answer.
But this simple question suddenly caught his attention.
It was truly a good question.
“I liked him for many years.”
“How long?”
“Around ten years. As for when exactly my heart was moved, I don’t know.”
Liang Youjun suddenly fell silent.
That number was too large—large enough to crush his curiosity.
He paused before saying, “Then why don’t you stay with him, Boss?”
Zhao Rong curled his lips into a bitter smile. “I loved him too hard before. I accidentally gave away all my capacity to love someone.”
That was only part of it.
The remaining reasons were too ethereal, so illusory that he didn’t know how to express them.
Previously, he had felt that Qiao Nanqi’s temporary obsession was, at its core, merely a love for the past.
But Qiao Nanqi had watched him get married, had even watched someone else by his side, and still hadn’t left. It was as if he were proving the weight of this affection through his actions.
On one hand, he was beginning to believe in this affection; on the other, he felt that if this love were so heavy, why had Qiao Nanqi been so oblivious in the past and treated him that way?
Liang Youjun nodded half-comprehendingly but still said, “But you don’t seem to like anyone else either.”
Just as Zhao Rong was about to speak, two people walked in through the door.
Zhao Rong’s eyes darkened slightly, but he didn’t move.
Liang Youjun immediately stood up, vacating the seat in front of Zhao Rong.
He turned around and spotted Xiao Wu behind Qiao Nanqi, exclaiming in surprise, “Ah, you—? Weren’t you the person who came to buy books before Chinese New Year?”
Xiao Wu said helplessly, “I am very sorry.”
Zhao Rong was no longer surprised by the resourcefulness of the protagonist from the original novel The Journey Home. He simply said, “Youjun, it seems you’ll need to be more vigilant in the future. I’ll be pulling a team together for a project later; guests who come might not truly be guests.”
Liang Youjun scratched his head sheepishly. “You should dock my pay.”
Zhao Rong naturally wouldn’t blame him for such a thing. He shook his head and didn’t respond.
During their exchange, Qiao Nanqi just stood at the door.
He seemed to be waiting for Zhao Rong’s command; as long as Zhao Rong didn’t speak, he could stand there indefinitely.
Zhao Rong looked at him against the outside light.
The man was already very tall. Standing in this warmly decorated little bookstore, he made the aisles seem narrow. The morning light outlined his silhouette like a golden pen drawing his upright figure, then adding a stroke of ink to pull out a hazy, long shadow.
With the light behind him, his eyes were obscured. Zhao Rong couldn’t tell if it was the quiet morning atmosphere, but he felt Qiao Nanqi’s face looked somewhat pale.
He said, “Sit.”
Liang Youjun pulled Xiao Wu toward a nearby bookshelf and handed him a feather duster. “Here, just bought it yesterday. It’s brand new.”
Xiao Wu: “…Thank you.”
Only then did Qiao Nanqi walk over and sit in front of Zhao Rong.
He had intentionally come as soon as it was light, but he hadn’t expected Zhao Rong to be sitting there already. He hesitated before saying, “I’ve kept you waiting.”
“The doors just opened, not long ago.”
Up close, Zhao Rong noticed that although the man looked quite haggard, he was still presentable. As before, he was so well-groomed that not a single flaw could be found.
If his expression were a bit colder, no one would probably dare to enter once the morning passed.
But as Qiao Nanqi looked at Zhao Rong, though he hesitated to speak, he carefully hid away any coldness or even a hint of sharpness.
He knew Zhao Rong wouldn’t say anything kind to him, but he still smiled and said, “Good morning. Have you had breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“You…”
“You—” Zhao Rong paused.
“You speak,” Qiao Nanqi said immediately.
Zhao Rong just blinked slowly and remained silent.
This was a sign for Qiao Nanqi to say everything he wanted to say first.
Qiao Nanqi had prepared for the worst, but he hadn’t expected that Zhao Rong’s heartless decisiveness would be far more agonizing than his previous easy-going manner.
He had no idea what Zhao Rong was going to say, so he had to defend himself first.
He said the words he had wanted to say all along: “I’m happy you’re living well.”
Zhao Rong fiddled with the corner of the book in front of him, pressing his fingertip lightly against the sharp point, saying nothing.
“I didn’t intend to disturb you. I just wanted to see you secretly, or see if there’s anything I can be of use for…”
He didn’t even dare use a subjective word like “help.”
“If there’s anything you’re unhappy with, you can tell me. Any tone is fine, I will change.”
“But…”
This was clearly just a small bookstore by a small street. The door was open, and the scattered noises of the surroundings drifted in.
In the middle of such a mundane scene.
Yet Qiao Nanqi felt as if he were sitting at a negotiation table. His opponent was gentler than any he had faced before, yet could defeat him without effort.
He had no moves left. The only thing he could do, like a coward, was to struggle through pleading.
He took a deep breath and said in a heavy voice, word by word, “But I still want to try.”
“I really didn’t have any intention of disturbing you before, but Zhao Rong, sometimes people can’t control themselves. I see you now, I’m sitting in front of you, and you—”
He observed Zhao Rong’s expression.
Zhao Rong was still very calm, his eyes slightly focused, actually looking at him and listening to him seriously.
“You aren’t angry either,” he finally said. “So, is it because you don’t dislike me as much as before?”
“I’m not looking for a reconciliation. I just want to stay here. Like you said, even being ordinary friends is fine.”
“If you find me an eyesore, or like now, if you have someone else by your side, just treat me as a friend who’s available on call. If one day you’re alone, if you break up with someone, if you’re lonely or bored, I’ll be here.”
“Zhao Rong, go and do whatever you want. Do anything you like to do, love…”
He paused, suppressing the pain in his heart that felt like flesh being carved away. “Love anyone you want to love.”
He tried his best to pull himself down into the dust.
“I’ll be the one who stays in place. When you don’t think of me, just leave me there. When you think of me or need me, then use me.”
“Is that okay?”
Zhao Rong heard every single word.
First, he turned his head and looked at the people coming and going outside the bookstore.
The morning light was faint.
Everything was so real.
He lowered his eyes and said softly, “Qiao Nanqi.”
Qiao Nanqi seemed to tense his body, sitting upright as if waiting for a verdict.
He said, “I will never love someone like I did before. I prefer to love myself like this now.”
“…That’s a good thing,” Qiao Nanqi said, enduring the bitterness. “I know.”
“I can’t be like before either, tending to every detail, with only you in my eyes.”
“I never wanted to stay because of that.”
“Even if you stay, it would just be a repeat of everything from a year ago. Perhaps you’ve become the old me, and I’ve become the old you. I’ve experienced that feeling before. For you…”
“For me, it’s exactly what I’ve been begging for,” Qiao Nanqi said without hesitation.
Zhao Rong was stunned.
He wanted to ask Qiao Nanqi—but can you really endure endless, one-sided giving?
Perhaps tomorrow, he might wake up and find this loneliness too hard to bear, and change his mind.
It was also possible he’d wait for months, years, or even that even if Qiao Nanqi became the old him, Zhao Rong would never turn back like the current Qiao Nanqi.
He himself had only lasted a year.
But he didn’t say it.
Words were useless.
He thought, since Qiao Nanqi wanted to stay and prove himself, then let him stay.
If this man were to give up, if he couldn’t hold on, he would eventually give up entirely.
Things had already come to this.
There was no harm in letting it drag on.
He didn’t ask anything else.
Seeing that Zhao Rong had stopped speaking, Qiao Nanqi’s heart grew heavy.
Every one of these questions felt like a rejection.
Even if he answered with absolute certainty, Zhao Rong’s next question would only be harsher, carrying more of an intention to push him away.
He unconsciously clenched his fists, venting all his emotions into the strength of his grip, just to keep his outward appearance calm.
No matter what Zhao Rong said, he should accept it.
Instead, Zhao Rong slowly stood up.
He glanced at Qiao Nanqi’s clenched fist, looking at the veins bulging slightly on the man’s arm. He reached out and lightly tapped the man’s knuckles.
Qiao Nanqi’s strength vanished instantly. His hand trembled, curled tight again, then slowly relaxed.
Zhao Rong simply gave that one tap and withdrew his hand. “These hands are so nice; it’s a pity to hurt them with too much force.”
Qiao Nanqi subconsciously gripped the wrist of his left hand, which wore a watch.
Fortunately, Zhao Rong had already looked away and picked up his phone to make a call.
The call was answered before long.
“Brother Xu,” Zhao Rong said to the person on the other end, “come pick me up. I need to go to the nursing home.”
Qiao Nanqi’s eyes reddened. He lowered his head slightly to hide all the emotions he shouldn’t show in front of Zhao Rong.
The heart that had been slightly stirred by Zhao Rong’s fingertip tap now sank heavily because of this call—Zhao Rong was leaving now, clearly not wanting to talk further.
Those words just now were entirely a questioning of him.
Even if he rolled his heart in the dust and tore it into pieces to serve to Zhao Rong, it would probably just be a joke.
With his head lowered, he only heard Zhao Rong stand up to grab a scarf from the rack and shout to Liang Youjun that he was leaving.
Then, the sound of footsteps approached again. Zhao Rong seemed to have walked back.
The young man’s voice, clear as a spring, drifted from above into Qiao Nanqi’s ears.
“Well then, do as you please,” he said to Qiao Nanqi. “If you want to go back, go back. If you want to stay in Zhuxi, I won’t interfere.”
He turned and walked a few steps, then looked back, his tone very casual. “By the way, my bookstore isn’t some high-end establishment. We get all kinds of customers. If you’re going to come, I hope you’ll be more low-profile. For instance, right now, that car of yours is parked at our door. I observed just now—several people detoured just because they saw the car logo.”
“Don’t affect my business—even though it doesn’t make much money.”
This time, he left for good.
Qiao Nanqi’s mind was still a blank void.
Zhao Rong’s words had completely shattered all his previous psychological preparations. It was like being pulled out of a pale, freezing world, yet without being given any warm clothes.
Zhao Rong hadn’t accepted him.
But Zhao Rong… also hadn’t driven him away.
The sunlight grew stronger, dispersing the hazy morning mist.
The sound of car horns “beep-beep-beep” drifted over. A vendor selling steamed buns covered his steamer and started packing up to go home.
There were far fewer people out for walks. As it approached working hours, the pace of the people outside quickened.
Xiao Wu watched Zhao Rong get into a car and leave at the entrance, then slowly walked to Qiao Nanqi’s side and asked cautiously, “Sir, what should we do now…?”
The atmosphere here just now hadn’t seemed very relaxed.
It didn’t seem like Zhao Rong and Qiao Nanqi had spoken much; it didn’t look like there would be any good news no matter how you looked at it.
Xiao Wu wanted to hand Qiao Nanqi a tissue, but perhaps because he was too focused on guessing what Zhao Rong had said, in his distraction, he subconsciously reached out and extended the feather duster in his hand.
“Sir, would you like to use this?”
After handing it out, he looked at the feather duster spanning between him and Qiao Nanqi.
“…”
Xiao Wu wished he could chop off his own hand.
But after he asked, he heard Qiao Nanqi reply absent-mindedly, “Thank you.”
Their master turned his head and glanced in the direction where Zhao Rong had just left.
His eyes were clearly still a bit red, but they reflected the brilliant sunlight, looking even brighter than when they had arrived.
Then, Xiao Wu saw their master turn his head back and, bit by bit, he began to smile.