Chapter 23#

Zhao Rong didn’t stay at Lu Xingping’s for long.

But this interaction was more pleasant than the last. Although Lu Xingping was still sharp-tongued, he didn’t make Zhao Rong completely speechless.

Zhao Rong quietly discovered that he and Lu Xingping were actually polar opposites in terms of life experience and personality. But if he looked deeper, he and Lu Xingping were actually somewhat similar.

Lu Xingping was free-spirited; once he decided on an idea or concept, he would stick to it. He didn’t have high material pursuits and instead followed his own thoughts. His entire being radiated casualness. If Qiao Nanqi’s life was the kind of sharp edge Zhao Rong wanted to possess, Lu Xingping’s life was the best kind of gentleness Zhao Rong could have achieved if he didn’t have his role in the plot and hadn’t fallen for Qiao Nanqi.

He didn’t know if Lu Xingping had discovered this too, which was why he was gradually letting down his guard.

Unfortunately, Lu Xingping had business tonight, and they didn’t say much. Zhao Rong left before the warm water in his cup even reached the bottom.

Zhao Rong thought for a moment and remembered that Qiao Nanqi seemed to have a celebration feast today with some close friends.

His office and Qiao Nanqi’s weren’t on the same floor, but he had been in contact with Xiao Wu these past few days, and Xiao Wu had mentioned it once. He knew all those people. After being recognized by the Chen family, he had associated with them quite a bit to get closer to Qiao Nanqi, but he hadn’t gone back since being with Qiao Nanqi.

Now he had nothing to do with such occasions, and he forgot about it after hearing it. Seeing Lu Xingping leave for the appointment reminded him.

The plot of the original novel ended at this segment.

Qiao Nanqi achieved his wish and reached a reconciliation with the last villain—his cousin Qiao Ruoye. There were no more obstacles.

After so many years of calculated planning, Qiao Nanqi had truly reached the desired finish line. Yet it felt like he had traveled back to his youth, erasing all the hardships of those years. Although people seemed to come and go around him, there was not a single person he was truly close to, no one he could talk to about everything. He didn’t know where he belonged. This was the double meaning of The Return Journey.

Zhao Rong was momentarily dazed.

While he was managing his own small future world, Qiao Nanqi, the male lead, had already reached the end of the summit.

The image of the sixteen-year-old boy in the hospital corridor twelve years ago felt very, very distant.

He had watched Qiao Nanqi come this far. As a fan of the original work, seeing the story he knew conclude step-by-step before his eyes while he was able to withdraw completely gave Zhao Rong some comfort.

When he left Lu Xingping’s house, the rain happened to let up slightly.

He didn’t go home but drove to the sanatorium.

Zhao Ming was lucid these few days.

When Zhao Rong arrived, she was standing behind the low railing of the small courtyard, staring blankly with a calm expression.

Zhao Rong had never told her about the Chen family’s trouble. She had left her hometown years ago and raised Zhao Rong alone in Yang City, and now there were no busybodies around her. She was completely unaware of the storms outside and probably didn’t want to know, so she was naturally peaceful.

Before Zhao Rong could speak, Zhao Ming turned to look at him and smiled. Although she wasn’t foolish when lucid, the years of illness had taken some toll.

“Why are you standing?”

She always smiled when she saw Zhao Rong, and now her eyes were crinkled with laughter.

“I sit every day anyway,” she said. “I wanted to stand for a bit.”

“It’s cold outside, put on another layer.”

Zhao Rong intended to find a jacket, but as he turned, his phone rang.

It was Qiao Nanqi.

At this time, shouldn’t he be celebrating with Lu Xingping, Xia Yuantu, and the others?

Zhao Rong didn’t plan to ignore it.

Judging from company matters, Mr. Qiao was more humane than described in the original novel. He neither made things difficult for him because of the Chen family nor went back on his word about the shares he gave him when the marriage agreement was signed. He was a perfectly decent ex-boyfriend.

A clean break was better than being targeted by the protagonist.

Moreover, he still intended to “pursue” Lu Xingping. If Qiao Nanqi’s anger was low now, there would be some buffer space when this ex-boyfriend, now a “current rival,” found out about his feelings for Lu Xingping.

He answered: “…You—”

Before he could finish a sentence, the man’s low voice came through first: “Where are you?”

“Huh?”

“Where are you living now?” Qiao Nanqi paused, then spoke slowly, “I… have something.”

Something?

What could he and Qiao Nanqi have? At most, it would be company or home-related.

“I’m not home right now, and I’ve moved back to my old place. It’s in the city, not near your house. If there’s something, I’ll go to your office to find you tomorrow. No need for you to come over.”

A clean break was one thing; personal life intersection was another.

On the other end of the phone, Qiao Nanqi gave a simple “mm,” not indicating if he had listened, and hung up.

Just as he hung up, the phone screen lagged for a moment and then went completely black—out of battery.

He didn’t need the phone now and wasn’t in the mood to charge it.

Zhao Rong put down the phone, thinking about the brief call record on the screen. He vaguely remembered that Qiao Nanqi’s end had been very quiet. Aside from the pitter-patter of rain, there was no other noise.

But it was just a fleeting thought; he had no interest in pondering where Qiao Nanqi was.

He walked into the bedroom of the sanatorium courtyard and found a jacket.

As he draped it over Zhao Ming, she suddenly asked, “Qiao Nanqi’s call?”

Qiao Nanqi generally didn’t like others calling him by his name, except for Lu Xingping and elders he didn’t dislike.

When they were together, Zhao Rong had finally managed to bring Qiao Nanqi to meet Zhao Ming. Perhaps because all of Qiao Nanqi’s deepest pain stemmed from his mother, he had some patience for Zhao Rong’s mother. He didn’t object when Zhao Ming called him by his name.

After they went home, Qiao Nanqi even uncharacteristically said to him, “Your mother is very nice.”

However, Qiao Nanqi only came that one time. Although Zhao Ming knew they were together, she hadn’t seen him since.

Zhao Rong hadn’t intended to bring this up.

He sighed silently.

He felt he needed to learn to hide his expressions; otherwise, Lu Xingping could easily see what he was thinking, and his mother could also see his state at a glance.

He nodded: “Yes.”

“He’s looking for you, you should go back. It’s boring here with me.”

Zhao Rong smiled: “No need, it’s likely nothing urgent.”

He thought for a moment and then said, “We broke up. Mom, I’m alone now.”

Zhao Ming was slightly surprised.

But perhaps she really didn’t like to think too much, or perhaps she was used to depending on Zhao Rong and had long stopped interfering with his decisions. She just raised her hand, stood on her tiptoes, patted Zhao Rong’s head, and said, “I see.”

She said, “You suffered a lot with me when you were young. Now that you’re grown, do whatever you want, follow your heart. If you like someone, go after them; if you don’t, part ways. Sticking with one person or one thing for a lifetime… is exhausting.” Her expression was a bit dazed, as if she were thinking of Chen Fengnian.

“Mom, that’s spoiling me.”

“I regret that I didn’t have the ability to spoil you then, and now I don’t have the ability to watch you excel.”

Zhao Rong’s expression faltered.

He looked away from Zhao Ming and lowered his head slightly, half his face buried in shadow. His lightly blinking eyelashes trembled slightly, catching the light.

He smiled.

“Only you say I’m excellent.”

It was rare for Zhao Rong to find her in such good spirits, so he chatted with her about other things.

The rain outside ebbed and flowed, with occasional thunder, eventually turning into a drizzle.

Before he knew it, it was ten o’clock. Zhao Rong watched Zhao Ming fall asleep, turned off the light, and left. He gave the caregiver some extra money as thanks before heading home.

The day had been packed with things from morning to night. His health wasn’t great to begin with, and by the time he reached home, he was quite drowsy.

But as he walked down the path holding his umbrella, looking down, he saw a long shadow cast by the streetlight at his doorstep, looking exceptionally lonely in the rain. Following the shadow, the man stood under the narrow eaves, wearing a dark trench coat with a darker hem, clearly having caught quite a bit of rain.

He froze in place, nearly losing his grip on the umbrella handle. The umbrella was blown slightly by the wind, and in that moment, Qiao Nanqi stepped into the rain, crossed the path, and walked up to him in a few steps, tightening his grip on the umbrella handle for him.

The tall figure loomed over him. The moment the man gripped the umbrella handle, his palm covered Zhao Rong’s hand, bringing a warm sensation.

Zhao Rong quickly pulled back the handle and took a step back.

Qiao Nanqi stood with half his body in the rain, unmoving.

He just looked down at Zhao Rong under the umbrella, his eyes reflecting Zhao Rong’s figure and the streetlight, like a bottomless, dark galaxy.

Zhao Rong’s drowsiness dissipated slightly. Being watched like this, he said uncomfortably, “You… why did you come?”

As he spoke, his gaze caught the water stains on the man’s hem and pant legs. The drizzle now wasn’t enough to soak someone like this—Qiao Nanqi had clearly been here for a while. This wasn’t something he remembered Qiao Nanqi doing. He didn’t want to delve into the reasons; he just felt Qiao Nanqi intercepting him at his doorstep was a bit over the line.

“If there’s something, it’s better if we meet at the company,” he said calmly, even adding a hint of firmness to his tone. “This is my doorstep, not the place to discuss business—and we shouldn’t have any personal matters to discuss.”

“…I’ll go to your office tomorrow.”

After saying this, Zhao Rong looked away and walked around Qiao Nanqi with his umbrella.

Qiao Nanqi saw that from beginning to end, Zhao Rong’s gaze only fell on him when they first met, and then he never looked at him again, even walking around him with quick steps. Qiao Nanqi kept watching.

Before, Zhao Rong’s gaze was always on him.

Now it was fixed on some part of the rain curtain in this drizzly weather.

But Qiao Nanqi kept looking at Zhao Rong.

He watched Zhao Rong get out of the car, watched the young man’s slender figure slowly approach under the warm yellow light and fine rain, and watched Zhao Rong frown after showing surprise. Zhao Rong could never hide his emotions; from that one frown, Qiao Nanqi could tell that Zhao Rong didn’t want to see him.

This time, it was he who wanted to see Zhao Rong.

Although Qiao Nanqi and Zhao Rong had both been at the company these past few days, they hadn’t met again.

After hanging up the phone with Zhao Rong, he had dug out the address Zhao Rong had sent him from a long-ago message and rushed over without even changing his coat. He knew Zhao Rong wasn’t home, and when he called Zhao Rong again, there was no answer.

While waiting for Zhao Rong at the door, the rain outside was heavy. The rain blew in with the slanting wind, and the damp air seeped through his collar, cold to the bone.

Yet Qiao Nanqi still reached out his hand, catching the rainwater, feeling the cold in his palm.

Only at that moment did he suddenly remember that over the past nearly ten years of changing seasons, Zhao Rong had also stood under eaves, waiting for him in the sweltering heat or swirling snow. He had never truly taken it seriously, nor had he ever waited for someone so agonizingly.

But as he counted the minutes and seconds, unable to resist looking out every few minutes, he realized how excruciating one-sided waiting could be. Just not knowing when the person would appear was enough to wear down a person’s patience.

As Qiao Nanqi stood there waiting, he thought back to when Zhao Rong first moved into his house.

That day, he hadn’t planned on going out, but he went to find Lu Xingping at the last minute. When he returned home with Lu Xingping and saw Zhao Rong, he remembered that Zhao Rong was moving in. He didn’t know when Zhao Rong had arrived, but his cheeks were frozen stiff, his coat was covered in snow, and the crevices of his suitcase were packed with it. Zhao Rong fell ill the next day, but Qiao Nanqi didn’t know the specifics because he hadn’t asked.

He had always felt that no matter what, as long as he didn’t actively give up on Zhao Rong, Zhao Rong would stay by his side silently.

So he had never paid attention to anything else, never cared about those minor details.

Recalling this now, Qiao Nanqi felt as if a blunt stone were rolling in his heart, an indescribable and unpleasant feeling.

This feeling couldn’t be explained, yet it wouldn’t dissipate.

Qiao Nanqi could have taken an umbrella from the car, instead of standing under the narrow eaves that offered little protection from the wind and rain. But he just wanted the wind and rain to blow, to blow away this unpleasant feeling.

After waiting for several hours like this, he finally saw Zhao Rong.

But Zhao Rong didn’t seem to want to see him at all.

As Qiao Nanqi’s thoughts flickered, Zhao Rong had already walked past him to the door, his finger pressing the sensor of the lock.

He turned and chased after him, reaching out and immediately grabbing Zhao Rong’s hand as it was about to turn the door handle. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, and he said, “I’ve come to take you home.”

The young man’s movements paused, and he turned to look at him, a trace of confusion flashing in his eyes.

In this moment of silence, they locked eyes.

Then, Zhao Rong actually laughed.

His eyes, naturally carrying a hint of a smile, crinkled slightly, but his gentle features revealed a helpless, wry smile. It wasn’t a real smile.

His voice was very soft, as if blown into the wind and melted into the rain.

“Qiao Nanqi, don’t be like this,” he paused and continued, “If you’re really doing this because you can’t save face, or because you’re unhappy that I didn’t gratefully apply to leave, I’ll tell Xia Yuantu and the others… that you dumped me—I’ve told you this before.”

“Asking me to go home with you, only to kick me out later…”

“It’s really not necessary.”