Chapter 86#
Chapter 86#
Outside the window, dusk was falling, leaving a brilliant red cloud like misty fireworks hanging in the distant sky.
Beneath the rosy glow, the world was bright yet dimming.
The lights in the ward turned on softly according to the time, dispelling the gloom with a gentle, heart-warming glow.
Zhao Rong’s smile toward Qiao Nanqi earlier was an easing of the deliberate harshness he had maintained recently, and also a form of honesty with himself.
He didn’t think too much of it; he had simply retracted his thorns a little.
Liang Youjun went out to call the attending physician. Zhao Ming pulled Zhao Rong aside to ask what he had been busy with these past few days, so Zhao Rong stopped looking at Qiao Nanqi and focused on talking to her.
Qiao Nanqi sat silently to the side.
In the past, he would have been able to hear every single word Zhao Rong said. But now, though the sounds of conversation drifted back and forth, not a single word registered in his ears.
…Zhao Rong considers Liang Youjun his lover?
Does Liang Youjun love Zhao Rong too?
Are they in an equal relationship as partners?
Zhao Rong’s attitude toward him had improved significantly over the past few days—was it actually because he no longer cared about what happened in the past?
Zhao Rong…
Caught between ice and fire, Qiao Nanqi worried that if he couldn’t help asking something, Zhao Rong might be unhappy, yet he remained joyful over Zhao Rong’s current attitude.
He tried hard to suppress his thoughts and keep himself from overthinking.
After a while, the doctor arrived with good news.
“You mean this surgery can slow the progression of the illness?” There was a slight tremor in Zhao Rong’s voice, a mix of pleasant surprise and uncertainty.
“Yes, this is the best plan we’ve come up with based on Ms. Zhao’s test results and her conservative treatment during this period. However, the technology is still very new, and there aren’t many clinical doctors with operating experience—we don’t have one here. To be safe, we might need to contact these few people to try.”
The doctor handed Zhao Rong a short list with brief introductions of their qualifications and specializations.
Before Zhao Rong could reach out, Qiao Nanqi had already taken it. “The most experienced one is abroad?” he asked.
“So it might be inconvenient,” the doctor said, clearly understanding his concern. “It would be best if we could get them. If not, the two below them are also options.”
“If we’re going to use one, use the best,” Qiao Nanqi said in a low, unwavering voice. “We’ll contact this one first.”
Zhao Rong glanced at him but didn’t say anything.
After the doctor left, Qiao Nanqi felt Zhao Rong’s gaze occasionally drifting toward his hand. Realizing this, he immediately handed over the list.
He had been too anxious just now. In his back-and-forth with the doctor, he had finished asking everything, and now that the person was gone, it seemed Zhao Rong hadn’t spoken much at all.
“Sorry, I overstepped.”
Zhao Rong looked up, glanced at him again, and then reached out to take the list.
The paper slid quickly past Qiao Nanqi’s fingertips, creating a slight breeze that brushed across his palm and brought a hint of coolness.
Qiao Nanqi instinctively clenched his hand, only to see that Zhao Rong, having taken the list of doctors, hadn’t looked away. Instead, he scanned Qiao Nanqi’s hand, seemingly looking at the base of his fingers.
But the base of his fingers was empty; there was nothing there.
“…Zhao Rong?”
Zhao Rong shifted his gaze away.
He didn’t want to admit that he had instinctively wanted to see if Qiao Nanqi was wearing a wedding ring.
When he didn’t see one, he remembered that he had requested long ago that this man not wear it. He wasn’t sure what he had hoped to see—seeing it or not seeing it both left him with complicated feelings.
So, he deliberately found a topic to explain why he was looking at the man’s hand. “Since you came to Zhuxi, what happened to that piano at your house? Wasn’t it a one-of-a-kind custom piece that took two years to make?”
“Do you want to hear me play?” The Young Master Qiao, who was usually so shrewd in business that he wouldn’t miss a single detail, actually had his attention diverted by these words. “I’ll have someone move it over right now.”
“…I was just asking.”
Liang Youjun, who hadn’t dared to speak, suddenly said, “Brother Xu says he’s downstairs.”
Zhao Rong had already begun sending people to contact the most experienced doctor while he led the way into the elevator.
As the three of them went downstairs, the atmosphere was silent to the point of being eerie because Zhao Rong was busy arranging the doctor’s contact.
Liang Youjun could feel Qiao Nanqi sizing him up.
This gaze was entirely different from the way Mr. Qiao usually looked at Zhao Rong. There was clearly no physical threat, yet every time Qiao Nanqi glanced over, Liang Youjun instinctively felt a chill in his heart.
Because of Qiao Nanqi’s approachability in front of Zhao Rong lately, he had felt that Qiao Nanqi wasn’t as terrifying as the people in Yangcheng said. He seemed like a normal person who could smile, feel sad, and show concern. Being watched like this now made him understand.
—That was only the Qiao Nanqi seen by Zhao Rong.
The person whose single glance could make his heart tremble now was the Young Master Qiao from the rumors in Yangcheng—the one who showed no mercy even when taking down his own father.
Zhao Rong was completely oblivious to Qiao Nanqi’s state, but Liang Youjun was so scared he almost wanted to kneel and hug Qiao Nanqi’s legs, asking the young master what he had done wrong so he could change it immediately.
They finally reached the parking lot.
Liang Youjun didn’t wait for his boss to get in the car as he usually did. He scurried into the rear seat on the far side, as far from Qiao Nanqi as possible.
Zhao Rong finished his business, tucked his phone away, and stood by the rear door, glancing at Qiao Nanqi.
Previously, whenever Zhao Rong went out, this man would try every possible way to get into the car—just like all the meticulous details he had maintained day after day until now.
Zhao Rong asked him, “How are you getting back?”
To him, this was already a very subtle relenting.
But this time, there wasn’t much of a smile on Qiao Nanqi’s face. He gave a slightly strained smile and said, “I’ve already asked Xiao Wu to come. He should be here in a few minutes.”
This meant he wasn’t going to get in the car.
He didn’t even know how to take the offered olive branch.
Zhao Rong couldn’t be bothered to ask further. Without a word, he got into the car and closed the door with a “thud.”
“Boss.”
“Xiao Zhao.”
Zhao Rong sat with his hands folded on his knees, his fingertips tapping rhythmically against the back of his hand.
He looked up and glanced at the two men. “What?”
Xu Xin gave a cough.
Liang Youjun turned his head and said exaggeratedly, “Heavens, were you just slamming the door and throwing a tantrum?”
Zhao Rong: “…”
His hands instinctively tightened a bit. His eyes darted around the interior of the car, though he remained steady on the surface. “Do you not want your year-end bonus anymore?”
Liang Youjun immediately struck a standard pose of surrender within the limited space of the car.
But Zhao Rong didn’t continue joking with him.
It wasn’t because his thoughts had been partially exposed, but because those words reminded him of another layer of his feelings.
Throwing a tantrum.
It seemed he really was throwing a bit of a tantrum.
It wasn’t like the previous calculated venting or roundabout sparring. This time, he hadn’t given it any thought. To an outsider, it probably looked like he had lost his temper for no reason.
He had never seemed to act this way before, let alone in his past relationship with Qiao Nanqi.
After all his past experiences, here at this moment, Qiao Nanqi had traveled across mountains and rivers, leaving his hometown to start over in Zhuxi, staying by his side day after day like a steady stream. He had actually managed to open the door of restraint, hesitation, and resistance in Zhao Rong’s heart.
…Could it be that he really was softening?
By the hospital parking lot.
Qiao Nanqi watched Zhao Rong get into the car. He watched Zhao Rong and Liang Youjun sitting together in the back seat, and watched as the car drove further and further away. Suddenly, he looked toward the street corner on the other side.
—It was an intuitive feeling that someone was watching him.
Frowning, he looked at the street where pedestrians were coming and going. But because there were too many people, he saw nothing. He even met several gazes directed toward him.
He had seen plenty of such looks since he was a child; they were just passersby instinctively looking back, as ordinary as could be.
Perhaps that gaze just now was like that too.
He withdrew his gaze and watched as Xiao Wu slowly pulled the car up in front of him. He got in without a word.
In the rearview mirror, Xiao Wu noticed his master’s somber expression.
On the last trip to the hospital, he had been happy even after being kicked out of the car. He had been even happier than usual over the past two days. Why was it that after another trip to the hospital, he seemed to have reverted to the state he was in when he first arrived in Zhuxi?
“Sir, you look like you’re in a bad mood. Is there something that needs to be done?” Xiao Wu asked tentatively.
Qiao Nanqi just leaned back against the car seat, raised his hand to rub his brow, and said softly, “It’s nothing.”
He had just daydreamed for a bit and then woke up immediately.
Night.
Zhao Rong was home alone tonight.
He had washed up early and was half-lying on the sofa wrapped in a blanket, holding his phone. He aimlessly left the TV on, not really knowing what he was watching—his attention wasn’t on the TV at all.
He was thinking about whether it was right or wrong to let Qiao Nanqi stay in Zhuxi like this.
When Qiao Nanqi had rushed in front of him to apologize and beg him not to marry, he found that he was harder-hearted than he imagined, and the decision he had made wasn’t wrong.
But after Qiao Nanqi stayed here with so much patience, he found that he wasn’t as hard-hearted as he thought.
He was even starting to want to believe that Qiao Nanqi really… loved him as a person, rather than just “liking” itself, or out of guilt and regret.
What was he to do?
If he wasn’t careful and actually looked back, only for the man’s nature to prove difficult to change a few years later, wouldn’t he truly become a joke?
This really was…
Buzz buzz buzz—
The phone, which had gone black at some point, vibrated in Zhao Rong’s hand. Liang Youjun’s name appeared on the caller ID.
“Hello,” Zhao Rong yawned, speaking before the other side could. “I don’t want to play mahjong.”
Liang Youjun replied directly with a loud “hiccup.”
Zhao Rong: “…”
That sound carried a heavy drunkenness. Even without seeing the person, one could hear it was a drunken hiccup.
“I don’t want to drink either.” He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, assuming that, like every time before, Liang Youjun was just bored and wanted to play.
To his surprise, the drunken voice on the other end sounded like it was about to cry: “Boss, I can’t do it anymore. Save me. Young Master Qiao is too hard to deal with. I’ve thrown up twice.”
Zhao Rong’s brow furrowed. “What did you say?”
“He, he… three hours ago? Oh no, two hours ago? Ah, that’s not right either. No, no, that’s not the point…”
Liang Youjun was so drunk his speech was incoherent. “Anyway, anyway, he brought a bunch of alcohol to my house to drink with me. I… I didn’t dare not to drink!!”
“Something about asking me if I’m sincere, if it’s for money… ah, he also asked me… what was it?”
“Why did I open the door just now!!”
Zhao Rong’s brow was tightly knit. After listening, he finally managed to piece together the sequence of events from this fragmented logic.
He suddenly sat up from the sofa. Without even changing out of his pajamas, he threw on a coat, put on his slippers, and headed out.
Liang Youjun’s house was right next to his. Looking from outside, it was brightly lit.
He stood at the door and heard a “clink and clang” of glass bottles colliding, followed by several voices of Liang Youjun saying, “I can’t, I can’t!!… I can’t drink anymore!! Let me, hic, rest a bit…”
He raised his hand and pounded on the door. “Youjun? It’s me.”
It seemed to go quiet for a moment inside. The steady, rhythmic footsteps of someone clearly not drunk sounded, getting closer and closer to the door.
The sound of the doorknob turning reached Zhao Rong’s ears through the door.
The door was swung open, and the light from inside instantly spilled into Zhao Rong’s eyes. Having been standing in the dark hallway, he couldn’t adapt for a moment. He looked away and blinked repeatedly, unable to see what was in front of him.
He took a step forward. Before his dazzled eyes could focus, he bumped into a solid figure.
His foot tripped over a pair of shoes that Liang Youjun, with his casual lifestyle, had left lying around.
The person in front of him stepped forward, grabbing his arm to steady him. But the person steadying him seemed so worried about him falling that he used too much force, not only supporting him but pulling him directly into his arms.
Warm body heat enveloped him. The room smelled strongly of alcohol, yet this person still carried a faint, calm scent of agarwood.
He smelled it, slightly losing track of where he was. Before he could clear his head, Qiao Nanqi realized what he had done and hurriedly let go, taking two steps back.
“Zhao Rong…”
Author’s Note: 20 random red envelopes in the comments.
OOC Theater
(Before Rong arrives)
Dog: Drink.
Xiao Liang: Hic QAQ
(After Rong arrives)
Rong: You’re having a drinking contest? You look sober enough that if I gave you a single-log bridge, you could perform a tightrope walk (pointing and gesturing).
Dog: Woof.