Chapter 28#

Zhao Rong spent a long time chatting with Zhao Ming.

The doctor had once warned him that with Zhao Ming’s illness, there was no telling when she might completely lose lucidity or even get worse. Whenever he had the chance, he should encourage her to talk more to keep her mind active.

Zhao Rong kept this firmly in mind. These days, as long as Zhao Ming was lucid when he visited, he would engage her in conversation.

He lied, saying he had recently traveled to Zhuxi and fallen in love with the place, telling Zhao Ming much about his hometown from before he transmigrated.

Throughout, Zhao Ming never asked him what the final thing he had to do before leaving Yang City was, nor did she ever mention Qiao Nanqi.

She listened attentively and seriously discussed with Zhao Rong where they planned to live in the future.

After dinner time, Fang Zhuoqun also arrived.

Zhao Rong and Fang Zhuoqun had known each other for a long time, well before the plot of The Return Journey began. At that time, Zhao Rong hadn’t been recognized by the Chen family yet and lived quite frugally compared to others at school. Fang Zhuoqun’s family background was much better than his back then, and after they became close, Fang Zhuoqun often accompanied him to the hospital.

Thus, Fang Zhuoqun was also very familiar with Zhao Ming. Even after Zhao Rong returned to the Chen family and Zhao Ming’s room changed from the cheapest multi-person ward to a private courtyard in this secluded sanatorium, Fang Zhuoqun still visited frequently.

He had just finished work and called Zhao Rong. Hearing that Zhao Rong would be at the sanatorium all night, he happened to be free and came over.

The two spent some time with Zhao Ming until she grew tired. Zhao Rong turned off the light for her and led Fang Zhuoqun outside.

The late autumn night was chilly, with the wind occasionally brushing against their cheeks and slipping into their collars, making them shiver.

Warm yellow night lights spilled down, elongating their shadows.

Zhao Rong blew on his cold palms, walked to the steps in front of the courtyard gate, and sat down. He waved to Fang Zhuoqun and said, “Sit.”

Whenever they met in the past, they would always tease each other, neither willing to lose. But this time, Fang Zhuoqun just walked over, sat down, and let out a long sigh. “Why aren’t you wearing your wedding ring anymore?”

Fang Zhuoqun had wanted to ask since he arrived.

Actually, he wanted to ask more than just about the wedding ring; he wanted to know about the events that had occurred recently. Although he was just an ordinary person, he still knew about the major event of the Chen family’s bankruptcy.

Initially, Fang Zhuoqun wanted to directly ask Zhao Rong what his plans were.

Back when Zhao Rong was suddenly recognized by the Chen family, he had instantly become worlds apart from ordinary people like them who struggled for a living every day. Zhao Rong had a good nature, and those who knew him liked him, so naturally, they congratulated him.

However, some classmates who had average relationships with him were either envious or jealous. Once the Chen family collapsed, those who weren’t close to Zhao Rong would come to him to pry, eager to offer comments or adopt a pitying stance—seemingly caring, but actually mocking. Some truly cared, but that care still carried a superior attitude that was always unpleasant to see.

Everyone seemed to assume that Zhao Rong would either have nothing or be worthless.

It would be one thing if Zhao Rong were truly a playboy who only relied on the Chen family, but Fang Zhuoqun had always known very well that Zhao Rong had excellent grades during his student days and had taken good care of Zhao Ming while maintaining his studies. Even after being recognized by the Chen family, Zhao Rong had always made some investments and businesses in his name.

Zhao Rong didn’t need to rely on the Chen family at all.

Fang Zhuoqun didn’t want to relay a single word of those comments to Zhao Rong.

But he had refrained from asking, partly because he knew what a broken relationship Zhao Rong had with the Chen family, and partly because he had searched for news and found that the acquirer was actually Qiao Nanqi’s company.

This made things delicate.

Zhao Rong liked Qiao Nanqi very much.

Over the years, whenever Zhao Rong chatted with him, he couldn’t help but mention Qiao Nanqi.

Zhao Rong had even signed a marriage agreement with Qiao Nanqi, lived in Qiao Nanqi’s house for over a year, and wore that wedding ring every day.

What Fang Zhuoqun saw in Zhao Rong was entirely different from the news he had heard recently.

He remembered the night Zhao Rong had a stomach ache. He had driven Zhao Rong home, saw no sign of Qiao Nanqi for the longest time, but saw that Qiao Nanqi’s home bore no trace of Zhao Rong’s life.

Fang Zhuoqun knew Zhao Rong would tell him if he asked, but he suddenly didn’t know how to ask.

So he simply pretended not to know, and his messages to Zhao Rong were no different from usual.

It was only today, when he came to see Zhao Ming, that he noticed Zhao Rong’s empty finger…

“If you’re asking about the wedding ring, it’s just simply lost,” Zhao Rong said slowly. “As for the rest, it’s not that complicated—we just broke up.”

“When did it happen?”

“When my family went bankrupt, but not because of that—I was the first to pop champagne when Chen Ze was in trouble. It’s a long story.”

Fang Zhuoqun patted Zhao Rong’s shoulder. “I know a bit about the news. It looks like Qiao Nanqi’s fault. No need to tell the long story. A father knows his son; I understand.”

“Piss off.”

“Do you still have money? Should we calculate those investments and the money you saved in my name?”

Zhao Rong nodded. “I was just about to talk to you about that.”

Qiao Nanqi ultimately chose to go home.

He had always disliked having his emotions seen by others. At home, at least he was alone.

But his mind was in a mess. After the driver left, he sat in the car for several hours before his mood finally calmed down a bit.

Returning home, Qiao Nanqi habitually lit a stick of sandalwood and planned to sit in the study and read for a while. This had always been his way of calming his mind, unchanged from his university days until now.

He liked classical piano music and appreciated ancient paintings. Only in terms of reading was he not very picky; he also liked things that appealed to both refined and popular tastes. Because everything else might be what others expected of him, or what he did to achieve a certain goal, only this one hobby was pure and clean.

He had even hoped there would be someone with whom he could talk freely about these things.

Years ago, when he was just out of university, he had proactively chatted with Lu Xingping a few times. Lu Xingping should have had much to say on the subject, but in reality, he never showed any interest. Previously, Qiao Nanqi had even given Lu Xingping a brand new book that they both should have read; Lu Xingping just placed it casually on the bookshelf by the door, never unwrapping it—lately, that book was nowhere to be found, and he didn’t know where it had gone.

Besides that, after getting together with Zhao Rong, Qiao Nanqi had also had the thought of talking about these things with him.

But that thought only flickered for a moment before he extinguished it himself.

—How could Zhao Rong possibly understand?

The first time he met Zhao Rong was in a hospital corridor.

The walls on both sides were pure white, and people hurried back and forth. The teenage boy was wearing a middle school uniform. The uniform, which should have been clean, was filled with marks from rubbing against some dirty stairwell. He looked wretched and was flustered when he saw him, but those exceptionally beautiful eyes held a very contradictory composure and courage.

A boy with such a gaze and look would actually call an absolute stranger for help and have no guard against him.

At that time, he was only sixteen. In his sixteen years of life experience, he had never seen such a contradiction where gentleness and fortitude, maturity and greenness coexisted. He was completely different from the friends he knew, as if low in the dust yet also standing on the clouds.

Qiao Nanqi couldn’t help but feel a bit soft-hearted.

He even thought about that scene from time to time for a period afterward.

So much so that years later, when he discovered by chance that Zhao Rong was the child recognized by the Chen family, although his feelings were complex, there was a moment of surprise within that complexity.

The second time he saw Zhao Rong was when Zhao Rong accompanied the Chen family to a banquet and appeared before him. The facial features of the then slightly immature youth had completely developed. Those peach blossom eyes seemed to carry a smile at every moment. Standing among a group of people he detested, Zhao Rong was like a crane among chickens.

At that time, he only looked at the nineteen-year-old Zhao Rong from afar, and a ripple of unknown origin rose in his heart.

Regardless, he was happy.

But the Zhao Rong he saw afterward had completely changed.

Ignorant and worthless, spending all day in nightclubs and clubs—fair without, foul within.

It made him very irritable to watch.

How could such a Zhao Rong possibly look at those things?

He didn’t expect Zhao Rong to read books at all, so naturally, he wouldn’t talk to him about them.

If the teenage Zhao Rong hadn’t changed, would they have been able to talk freely about some things?

More than ten years, and the world had turned upside down.

Qiao Nanqi thought of the fourteen-year-old Zhao Rong’s green face, thought of Zhao Rong’s slightly upturned mouth amidst the glitz and glamour, thought…

—He was thinking about Zhao Rong again.

Qiao Nanqi came back to his senses, and his hand turning the page stiffened. His fingertips couldn’t help but use a bit of force, immediately pressing a crease into the corner of the book.

He let go of his hand, only then realizing that he hadn’t absorbed a single word of the content on these few pages.

His mind was full of Zhao Rong again.

It was impossible to continue reading.

He closed the book, got up, and put it back on the shelf.

As he was putting it away, in his peripheral vision, Qiao Nanqi caught sight of a stack of papers on the side of the shelf, with what seemed to be some documents or IDs pressed under a few sheets—it seemed they were taken from the trash can by the housekeeper when she came a few days ago. He remembered he hadn’t thrown anything in the living room trash can, so they must be Zhao Rong’s. He had asked Xia Yuantu to handle them and temporarily put them in the study.

At that time, he was still having a fever and didn’t bother with this stack of things.

In the past few days since he recovered, his mind had been a mess, and he had momentarily forgotten about this item.

Qiao Nanqi was currently trying his best to suppress those thoughts related to Zhao Rong. He only glanced at it and immediately looked away, returning to the bedroom.

He opened the wardrobe to find a pair of pajamas, only to see the nearly brand-new pure black shirt hanging next to a row of white shirts.

The shirt was clearly his size, but he hadn’t worn it.

When they signed the marriage agreement, Zhao Rong said he liked him wearing white shirts. He didn’t answer then, but facing Zhao Rong’s gaze, he felt a subtle touch in his heart—he didn’t dislike the bright look in Zhao Rong’s eyes when he saw him in a white shirt; he even somewhat liked seeing it.

He didn’t say it, but afterward, with the clothes Zhao Rong bought for him, he always subconsciously wore the white ones first.

As time went on, he almost never touched those dark-colored clothes.

This black shirt was originally at the company; the only possibility was that Zhao Rong wore it home from his office that night half a month ago.

But apart from this one piece of his clothing that Zhao Rong had worn only once, the wardrobe was clean, leaving only his own clothes, with no trace of Zhao Rong.

It was the same elsewhere.

On the surface, it looked no different from before Zhao Rong moved in. No, actually, it was like this even after Zhao Rong moved in, but he had never looked closely before. Sweeping over various places at this moment, the arrangements were no different from usual, yet he always felt something was missing.

Memories flooded back, and Qiao Nanqi had already reached out, his fingertips lightly touching the collar of the shirt Zhao Rong had worn once.

In the past, if he touched Zhao Rong’s collar, he would mostly just use it to pull the person into his arms or unbutton it following the collar.

That was naturally impossible now.

Zhao Rong had truly moved out.

Zhao Rong…

Qiao Nanqi didn’t know why Zhao Rong suddenly wanted to break up. But since Zhao Rong would find excuses to go to Lu Xingping’s house, it was mostly because of him; maybe he still wanted to come back.

If he had spent more time with Zhao Rong before, or occasionally satisfied Zhao Rong’s wishes, taking him to meet others, making their relationship public… would Zhao Rong not have broken up so decisively?

Or, a few nights ago in the rain, after Zhao Rong refused to go home with him, if he had continued to wait, to hold Zhao Rong once more, would Zhao Rong not have been so persistent?

He should have handled it better.

He felt some regret.

“Regret.”

He had always thought Zhao Rong would be the one to regret, but at this moment, the person who truly regretted…

Wasn’t Zhao Rong, who was laughing heartily at Lu Xiaoyue by Lu Xingping’s doorstep.

It was him.

Qiao Nanqi’s gaze stiffened, and he abruptly withdrew his hand, no longer in the mood to focus on this one piece of clothing.

He left the house almost in a flight.