Chapter 94#
Chapter 94#
“Okay,” Lu Xingping nodded.
Zhao Rong listened intently, waiting for Lu Xingping to say something to persuade him to go back, or some good words about Qiao Nanqi.
But Lu Xingping didn’t mention Qiao Nanqi’s name. Instead, as if suddenly changing the subject, he said to him, “I remember you looked for me once, asking if I could do counseling for you.”
“Yes… but at that time, Senior refused, saying you don’t take on friends.”
“Correct, because there are many constraints with friends; under normal circumstances, I won’t take them.”
“It’s a pity, I was quite curious about what Senior is like when doing counseling.” Although Zhao Rong didn’t know why Lu Xingping suddenly brought this up, he still followed along.
But Lu Xingping’s next sentence vaguely made him feel something was off, as well as a sense of… familiarity.
“But I have actually taken on one friend, and for many years.”
“I kept advising this friend to find a famous psychiatrist in the industry who had no dual relationship with him, but he was too guarded and couldn’t trust anyone, to the point that he couldn’t trust other psychiatrists. To be honest, it was quite unexpected that he could trust me—later, just a few months ago, he told me that it was because he had mistaken me for someone else, so he was able to trust me just a little bit more.”
“Even so, we weren’t in a formal doctor-patient relationship. I was just an outlet for this friend of mine when he really couldn’t suppress his emotions. Sometimes we chatted, sometimes he came to my house, and I would pick some suitable piano pieces for him.”
Zhao Rong’s gaze was originally calm, his expression gentle, listening seriously. His uninjured left hand was idly scrolling through his phone screen out of boredom.
But hearing the last part, his movements suddenly froze. He even forgot to blink, just staring dead ahead, unable to react for a moment.
Only then did he realize that Lu Xingping hadn’t changed the subject at all.
The patient Lu Xingping was talking about…
Lu Xingping continued, “Except for me and Yuantu, no one else knows about this friend’s problems. Because he had too many enemies in the past, and a nominal father who always wished he was dead, he had to keep it well hidden. So, in front of everyone, he was just a bit cold and a bit harsh.”
He rarely had such serious moments without any bluntness, so whenever he said these things, Zhao Rong would sit up straight and listen, hearing every word clearly.
This shouldn’t be.
He had read the original novel; he knew Qiao Anqing’s death was the turning point for Qiao Nanqi, and he knew that the broken family had likely brought many changes to Qiao Nanqi’s personality. But in the original novel, it only described Qiao Nanqi spending a few years living alone in the old mansion on Changxi Road, and after recovering, he completely went up against He Nan. Nothing more was said.
He had always thought that it was perhaps a regret from Qiao Nanqi’s childhood, and he had used things like letters, raising stray cats, and book lists to try to alleviate the impact this past had on Qiao Nanqi. But he never thought that this matter would lead Qiao Nanqi to the point of needing a psychiatrist.
How could it be?
This person had always been very powerful in his impression.
Zhao Rong said softly, “…Then why did he need counseling?”
Once the words were out, he realized that he had originally only wanted to know why Qiao Nanqi could be so cold to him for two years, but at this moment, he cared more about Qiao Nanqi’s condition.
“Because he was originally a very lucky person.”
“This is actually a very important secret, but I feel there is nothing he can’t let you know. Even if you wanted everything he has, he would offer it with both hands.”
“Lucky?”
“Lucky. Because he was actually just an orphan, but his mother had difficulty conceiving and wanted a child, so she picked him.”
Zhao Rong’s breath hitched. He felt that although he was still breathing, his brain felt as if it were deprived of oxygen, empty.
It was written in the original novel that “Zhao Rong” was actually a contrast to Qiao Nanqi in the original story.
Both followed their mothers, but “Zhao Rong’s” surname brought him others’ contempt and his own inferiority in the Chen family, while Qiao Nanqi’s surname allowed him to stand at the finish line that others had to strive their hardest to reach from birth.
It turned out that in this world he lived in, the one who had always possessed familial affection was him, while the one who lost it after briefly having affection that didn’t belong to him was Qiao Nanqi.
Zhao Rong’s mind was in a chaotic mess. Lu Xingping just continued unhurriedly, “So he was originally very lucky and had a very happy family—Yuantu and I both envied him when we were young.”
“But his father actually didn’t like this home at all; everything was just to get the Qiao family. You know what happened later—his mother developed mental problems, depression, madness, and finally it developed into jumping off a building. He was there when she jumped, but his mother ignored him and jumped right in front of him.”
“After this, He Nan…”
There was no need to say who this person was anymore. As Lu Xingping talked, he gradually abandoned the pronouns.
“He Nan blamed everything on Nanqi, even calling him a bastard who couldn’t keep his mother every day, trying to guide him into collapse.”
“In order to survive, Nanqi moved alone to the old mansion his mother had bought. While we weren’t looking, he copied the word ‘bastard’ every day just so he could remain expressionless in front of He Nan—and he indeed succeeded.”
Lu Xingping was just recounting the past, but these words coincidentally unraveled another knot in Zhao Rong’s heart.
He didn’t say it, just suppressed the surging bitterness and listened seriously.
“But after that, his trust in anyone dropped to rock bottom, including his friends.”
“This state of his is extremely unhealthy because he feels that no one in this world will accompany him or be by his side forever, thus closing the door to self-sacrifice and emotion—this is perhaps the root cause you asked about. He didn’t know how to reciprocate such closeness, so he simply adopted a completely closed-off approach. The more someone wanted to get close to him, the easier it was for him to distance himself.”
“Don’t look at the many people around him; most just respect and fear him. Yuantu and I are still around because we grew up together and we know what Qiao Nanqi was like before that.”
Zhao Rong murmured to himself, “I know too.”
He had seen it.
The sixteen-year-old Qiao Nanqi was so bright, with a youth’s softness yet polished with the sharpness of early maturity, enough to be crowned with all the beautiful words.
Qiao Anqing had raised him to be that way, but He Nan stripped those words from him.
What about him?
To this day, what roles have he and Qiao Nanqi played in each other’s lives?
“He now…”
“All right,” Lu Xingping gave him some reassurance, “it was you who healed him. When I first arrived two days ago, Yuantu took advantage of Nanqi’s absence to shake my shoulders and ask me, ‘Don’t you feel that Nanqi is becoming more and more like he was before high school?’”
The corners of Zhao Rong’s eyes were slightly red.
“Has your question been answered?” Lu Xingping asked him.
“…It’s more than just getting an answer.” Zhao Rong’s nose felt a bit sour, and he found his voice becoming involuntarily hoarse. “Sorry, I might be losing my composure a bit now.”
Lu Xingping laughed.
“No, you’re calmer than I imagined.”
The two were silent for a moment.
But this silence wasn’t awkward; it was a wordless emotion, as if Lu Xingping knew Zhao Rong needed quiet, and Zhao Rong knew Lu Xingping would give him a moment to catch his breath.
Darkness had already fallen outside. The sky was filled with hanging stars, and the night stepped in from the window across the river of stars, leading down the bright moonlight.
The lights in the room were flickering.
Zhao Rong’s eyes narrowed slightly. After the complexity passed, his eyes became brighter and brighter.
When Lu Xingping was leaving, Zhao Rong asked him, “Senior, why is it that no matter where I am, every time I think back to our fake wedding, I want to ask you if you had already foreseen this moment?”
Lu Xingping waved his hand. “Haven’t I answered you every time—how could that be possible? If I really had that ability and used it here, it would be a huge waste of talent.”
“I’m just following my heart.”
“Zhao Rong, from the time you came to me to fulfill the engagement, I said that I wouldn’t say anything when you didn’t want to know, nor would I deliberately do anything.”
When he wanted to help Zhao Rong and felt Zhao Rong was worth helping, he would lend a hand.
When he wanted to talk about Qiao Nanqi’s past and felt Qiao Nanqi needed him to speak, he would say it.
It’s not that complicated.
But in the end, it seemed that after everything, they still arrived at this step.
Zhao Rong understood.
He said, “Thank you. On behalf of myself and him, thank you.”
“If there are any problems with these hospital matters, call me directly.”
“Senior,” Zhao Rong called out to him, “there were many opportunities before, why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Lu Xingping paused. “Because Nanqi is a quiet person who likes to swallow all his bitterness himself. He felt that if he didn’t tell you these things, you wouldn’t have a burden, so he didn’t let us speak.”
“Then I might have to shamelessly ask Senior for one thing—if it won’t make things difficult for you,” Zhao Rong said this with a tone that was neither haughty nor humble, yet carried a bit of gentle pleading, “if there’s anything else this quiet person hasn’t told me, Senior must tell me.”
Lu Xingping’s hand was already on the doorknob. Hearing this, he turned back and smiled.
“Since you put it that way, there indeed is—”
When Qiao Nanqi returned to the ward, Zhao Rong was the only one in the room.
Only the small night light beside the hospital bed was lit in the room, adjusted to its brightest mode, casting a warm yellow light in the spacious single ward.
Beside that light, Zhao Rong was sitting on the bed, leaning slightly against the pillow behind him. The pale hospital gown draped over his thin body, looking slightly loose, making it especially easy to evoke a sense of protectiveness.
He was looking down and flipping through the book in his hand—the one Qiao Nanqi had bought for him a couple of days ago to pass the time.
Hearing the sound of the door opening, he looked up at Qiao Nanqi, his gaze, which had been somewhat focused due to reading, flickering.
He watched Qiao Nanqi walk in slowly, without saying a word from beginning to end, without any obvious emotional fluctuations. Those dark eyes were as deep as a cold, clear spring, transparent yet inscrutable.
In short, he wasn’t like he had been every day before—a bit gentle, a bit wavering, and a bit pretend-cold.
Qiao Nanqi sat down by the bed. Having been watched by Zhao Rong for a long time without hearing him speak.
He said cautiously, “…Zhao Rong?”
He thought Zhao Rong was just spacing out.
But Zhao Rong’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze focusing, his vision falling directly on Qiao Nanqi.
The light from the night light only shone on the bed, illuminating the book in his hand, without covering much area. Even sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, half of Qiao Nanqi’s body was still buried in the shadows.
He was still very haggard.
The dim light outlined the contour of his profile, and the shadows gathered in the depths of his features, making him look even more profound. That face naturally carried a sense of refinement and gloom, different from Zhao Rong’s features which seemed to carry a smile even when he wasn’t smiling; it was so solemn that one didn’t dare look too much.
But as Zhao Rong watched, he instinctively wanted to reach out his hand to touch that profile, to tap that light mole.
As soon as he raised his arm, the wound on his arm intensified the pain.
He frowned, his movement stopping, and Qiao Nanqi had already grabbed his wrist, gently lowering his injured right hand.
“What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously. “Xingping was here just now. Did he say something you didn’t want to hear? Or do you not want to handle the hospital affairs? Then just leave it to me.”
Zhao Rong didn’t answer.
Qiao Nanqi asked again, “Is something uncomfortable? Or did someone make you unhappy? If you…”
He wanted to say that if Zhao Rong was dissatisfied with anything, he could help Zhao Rong vent his anger.
But he didn’t have the standing to say those words now, so he had to swallow them. “Did I do something wrong?”
He always felt that Zhao Rong wasn’t very happy right now.
Zhao Rong shook his head.
He scanned Qiao Nanqi from top to bottom, his gaze finally landing on the collar of the black shirt Qiao Nanqi was wearing today.
Before they were together, although Qiao Nanqi wore a lot of plain-colored clothes, they weren’t always white. Occasionally there were dark clothes. After they were together, he never wore anything else.
Usually, the plain clothes would add a bit of refinement to him and slightly weaken his aura. Suddenly wearing a deep black shirt these past two days made that solemn and cold aura seem magnified; if others were to take a look, they would probably look away immediately.
But Zhao Rong stared directly for quite a while and said to him in a low voice, “If I’m unhappy, what are you going to do?”
Qiao Nanqi’s gaze paused, and he said the words he had just swallowed: “Help you vent. Or whatever can make you happy, I’ll go and do it.”
“Okay.”
Zhao Rong didn’t refuse.
His gaze moved down from the collar of Qiao Nanqi’s shirt to the neckline.
He said, “Then take off your clothes.”