Chapter 34#
The Milky Way flowed slowly.
Flickering lights reflected in the night sky, obscuring a hint of muted brilliance.
Zhao Rong sat by the window, head tilted, eyes lowered, the lower half of his face hidden in the shadows of the light, his expression unclear.
He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there.
“Sir?” The waiter called out to him, looking a bit troubled. “We’re closing, you…”
Zhao Rong turned his head and realized that many of the surrounding lights had been turned off. There were few people left in the entire restaurant, only staff in uniforms moving back and forth with tired steps.
Only his spot remained, and perhaps because he was still there, the light was still on.
He glanced at his phone—it was past nine.
“Sorry,” he quickly got up.
Stepping out of the building where the restaurant was located, the cool autumn wind suddenly rushed into his neck.
Zhao Rong raised a hand and wrapped his scarf tighter.
His health wasn’t great to begin with, and with this gust of wind, he immediately felt the cold against his skin, which also sobered him up a bit.
He had been a bit too outspoken just now.
He should have continued to maintain his composure, ending the call politely and thoughtfully, rationally clarifying to Qiao Nanqi that they shouldn’t have any crossing contact at this moment.
Maintaining this dignified separation until the very end would have been the best approach.
But upon hearing Qiao Nanqi’s “I want to see you,” the gentleness he had cultivated for so many years, ingrained in his bones, suddenly became useless.
Only after those words were spoken did he suddenly realize—why would Qiao Nanqi care what he thought? And why would he care about his character, his dignity? In that man’s eyes, he had always been the lover called upon and dismissed at will, someone who couldn’t see the light of day.
Before they were together, he was the ignorant good-for-nothing of the Chen family. After they were together, he was a mere ornament, fair without, foul within. Even after breaking up, this person still treated him as a lover to be summoned and dismissed at will.
Saying these things would not make Qiao Nanqi listen at all. Why bother affecting his own mood?
He shouldn’t have answered that call.
So he hung up, did nothing, just sat there, trying to calm himself down to a composed state.
He sat until the moon hung high in the sky.
Zhao Rong walked aimlessly down the street when his phone suddenly vibrated twice.
He took it out and saw that Lu Xingping had sent him two messages.
The first was a screenshot of a chat between Lu Xingping and Lu Xiaoyue. It roughly showed Lu Xiaoyue saying she had troubled Zhao Rong too much lately and didn’t know what Zhao Rong liked, so she wanted to invite him to her house for a meal to thank him.
The second message was just an emoji, an upward-pointing arrow. The two messages together meant an upward arrow pointing to a screenshot of a chat record.
A perfectly good invitation for him to be a guest, yet not a single word was typed.
Zhao Rong: “…”
Only Lu Xingping could do that.
He naturally wouldn’t refuse and typed back: “Okay, when?”
Lu Xingping seemed to be looking at his phone on the other end, and soon sent him a time for this weekend.
Zhao Rong naturally agreed again.
He thought that this time, visiting Lu Xingping’s house, he might be able to tactfully inquire about their previous engagement.
After settling it, Zhao Rong thought of Lu Xingping’s main profession and paused his action of exiting the chat interface.
He sent another message: “Senior, do you have time for my psychological consultation recently?”
“Yes.”
“But unless it’s a special case, I don’t take friends.”
Zhao Rong hadn’t known this. Last time Lu Xingping gave him that book, he thought Lu Xingping actually did consultations for friends.
He had only thought he might need someone to talk to, and it was just a whim.
He wasn’t someone who liked to proactively share his past with others. With Lu Xingping saying this, he dismissed the idea.
He was typing “Thank you anyway” in the chat box, but before he could send it, another message came through.
Lu Xingping: “If you really want to, it’s not impossible. We can just break off our friendship first.”
Zhao Rong: “.”
Xia Yuantu patted the door again: “—Old Qiao? Sigh, this old house is just no good, why doesn’t it even have a smart doorbell? What if Old Qiao can’t hear it from inside his room?”
He withdrew his hand. “I’ll call him.”
Lu Xingping stood aside, typing on his phone, unsure who he was talking to.
Just as Xia Yuantu was about to call Qiao Nanqi, the door opened.
Qiao Nanqi’s expression paused slightly. Seeing it was Xia Yuantu and Lu Xingping, he said nothing.
He was usually meticulous about cleanliness, and when he met people, there was never a single flaw from head to toe. But at this moment, even though the streetlights outside were dim, casting faint light on Qiao Nanqi’s face as he stood at the door, Xia Yuantu could vaguely see his stubble.
He opened the door, then turned and went back into the living room.
Xia Yuantu grumbled: “Why did you suddenly move back here? I only found out from Xiao Wu. You had a fever a few days ago, and then you suddenly moved. Xingping and I were worried about you, so we came to check.”
“Hey, Xingping, who are you chatting with?”
Lu Xingping had already sent his message.
“A…” He paused. “Someone I just met.”
He turned off the screen, tossed his phone into his pocket, and walked into the house.
“Tsk tsk, how rare. Someone like you actually chats with someone you just met. What’s wrong with you and Old Qiao these past two days? Have you changed your personalities?”
The other two had long been accustomed to his chatter and simply ignored him.
He didn’t care either, swaggering in behind Lu Xingping.
Qiao Nanqi was clearly not in the mood. He only poured each of them a glass of water, then sat on the sofa by the coffee table, his gaze fixed on a crumpled slip of paper.
Xia Yuantu leaned in to look and saw it seemed to be a string of phone numbers.
They had grown up together, known each other for over twenty years. Except for the period after Qiao Anqing’s death, this was the first time in over a decade that Xia Yuantu had seen Qiao Nanqi so disheartened.
He and Lu Xingping came because they found out from Xiao Wu that Qiao Nanqi had been in an off state all day.
After Qiao Anqing’s death, Qiao Nanqi would occasionally experience uncontrollable depression and world-weariness. They were well aware of this, which was why they came to the old city late at night to find Qiao Nanqi. But Chen family and those who colluded with He Nan to scheme against the Qiao family had all been dealt with cleanly, and He Nan was now insane. What else could make Qiao Nanqi like this?
Was it really because of Zhao Rong?
Xia Yuantu picked up his glass, took a sip of water, and was thinking how to tactfully ask Qiao Nanqi when Lu Xingping beside him already said, “Because of Zhao Rong?”
Xia Yuantu almost spat out his water.
“Isn’t that too direct?”
Unexpectedly, Qiao Nanqi didn’t get angry; he just nodded slightly: “He…”
He lowered his head, and perhaps because his voice was suppressed too low, his words carried a hint of grievance.
“He said I don’t like him.”
Xia Yuantu blurted out: “You weren’t originally—”
Qiao Nanqi looked up at him.
Lu Xingping glanced at him.
Xia Yuantu raised his hand and covered his mouth.
Qiao Nanqi actually felt that Xia Yuantu hadn’t said anything wrong.
Zhao Rong said he didn’t like him.
Xia Yuantu almost subconsciously affirmed Zhao Rong’s thought.
Everyone around him thought so; perhaps he… really treated Zhao Rong very badly.
He gave a self-deprecating laugh and said, “Drink?”
In the past, if he were present, because he disliked the smell of alcohol and smoke, few people would dare to talk about drinking. Even at social events, others would drink their own, and Qiao Nanqi would at most politely take a few sips; few people dared to force him.
Now, he actually had a day where he wanted to get completely drunk.
“Nanqi,” Lu Xingping ignored his question and just said, “So do you have an answer now?”
“You hate the Chen family, and you don’t like uneducated good-for-nothings, but the Zhao Rong you see embodies both. Why did you still let Zhao Rong move into your house?”
This was the third time Lu Xingping had asked him.
The first time, he and Zhao Rong had just signed the agreement, and Zhao Rong hadn’t moved into his house yet. They had just begun a partnership, and no one knew it would reach this point.
At that time, he hadn’t paid attention to the question at all, and the answer was meaningless.
The second time was after Zhao Rong moved out of his house.
He thought it was just an occasional accident, just Zhao Rong’s rare temper during their more than a year of cohabitation, or that Zhao Rong had no intention of coming home, and he could also break those habits and forget Zhao Rong.
But he couldn’t answer the question then.
This time, the answer actually leaped into his mind the moment Lu Xingping finished speaking.
No need for thought, no need for doubt.
He liked Zhao Rong.
He had always liked Zhao Rong.
It wasn’t the kind of liking that occasionally arose when seeing a stray cat by the roadside, not the kind of liking that could be squandered at will and was countless, not the kind of liking that fleetingly passed by like a spring leaf, nor the kind of liking that was discarded if unrequited.
It was the kind of liking that made him subconsciously happy even when he knew Zhao Rong was from the Chen family, even when he knew Zhao Rong was from the same world as him.
It was the kind of liking that made him unable to resist snatching and throwing away the pile of scarves, he didn’t know which girl had given him, when he saw Zhao Rong sitting on the long steps during university.
It was the kind of liking that made him want to give the scarf in his hand to Zhao Rong to wipe his wet face.
—It was a seed planted in his youth, watered by a clear spring with a glance when they met again years later, and then rooted and sprouted over the years, eventually growing silently into a towering tree in his heart.
“Yes,” he answered Lu Xingping’s question, “I have an answer.”
Xia Yuantu looked at Lu Xingping, then at Qiao Nanqi, “What kind of charades are you playing? I feel like I’m being isolated.”
“Not charades,” Lu Xingping said meaningfully, “It’s an easy question.”
Qiao Nanqi didn’t speak.
His thoughts had already drifted into some unknown memory.
He remembered that as a teenager, he would see these small cats every time he went out. They would occasionally rub against his ankles and meow a few times, as if telling him that he was not alone.
If not for that tiny yet perfectly timed warmth, what would he be like now?
There was one person, who, at the age of fourteen, carefully preserved the address he had casually written on their palm. Over these long dozen years, day after day, they silently left him that unforgettable warmth from his youth. This person loved him for ten years.
More than ten years later, at this very moment.
He knew he liked Zhao Rong. He knew he wanted to spend every day and night with Zhao Rong.
He also knew that Zhao Rong had left him.
The lights in the old house were still in the style of ten years ago. The manually switched warm yellow chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting dim light.
In such a lonely late night, it should have been extremely peaceful.
But Qiao Nanqi felt the light was too harsh, making his eyes ache.
He slowly closed his eyes, leaned back, resting his head on the back of the sofa, and said nothing.
He had always been strict with himself. When they were a group of young masters playing together in their youth, while others were still unruly children, Qiao Nanqi was already upright, meticulous, and proper.
Even when sitting, he always sat straight.
Xia Yuantu, seeing Qiao Nanqi so dejected, couldn’t utter a single word he had in mind.
He had seen Qiao Nanqi distracted in everything he did two days ago and had thought of mocking Young Master Qiao, who usually lorded over them. He didn’t think it was that serious. It was just a breakup; there were far more earth-shattering things in their circle, and who didn’t have some complicated matters?
He and Lu Xingping had witnessed it for over a year and knew about the mess between Qiao Nanqi and Zhao Rong—it had always been Qiao Nanqi being condescending, and by all accounts, Zhao Rong was confused. Otherwise, his first reaction upon learning that Qiao Nanqi and Zhao Rong had broken up wouldn’t have been that Zhao Rong’s mind had finally cleared for a moment.
Qiao Nanqi was inherently someone who couldn’t love.
Before Zhao Rong, Qiao Nanqi had never been moved by anyone, and after Zhao Rong, it was unlikely he ever would be. Zhao Rong was like an accident, an accident Qiao Nanqi himself might not have even cared about. Even if they broke up, Qiao Nanqi would at most be distracted for a few days.
But Qiao Nanqi’s current state—how could it be described as mere distraction from two days ago? This could only be described as being utterly disheartened.
Xia Yuantu wasn’t completely clueless either.
Lu Xingping was silent, Qiao Nanqi was slumped on the sofa. For several moments, no one said a word.
Xia Yuantu glanced at the crumpled slip of paper in front of Qiao Nanqi, then secretly typed the number into his phone. After typing it in, he looked at the name of the contact that matched in his phone, sighed, and then said, “Old Qiao.”
“Hmm?”
“…Do you like Zhao Rong?”
If it were just like those playful young masters in their circle, keeping a lover and treating it as a game, with mutual consent, then so be it.
But…
The meaning of “like” in this context was self-evident.
Qiao Nanqi’s eyelids lifted.
He didn’t look at Xia Yuantu, his gaze aimlessly falling somewhere, silent.
Xia Yuantu let out a long sigh, paused, and said, “You kind of deserve it.”
To avoid being instantly assassinated by Young Master Qiao’s dagger-like gaze, he immediately stood up and continued, “It’s been too long since I’ve been here. I remember there’s a small supermarket on the street next to your house? Hope it’s still open. I’m going to buy some alcohol.”
He didn’t wait for Lu Xingping or Qiao Nanqi to say anything, turned, and left.
The room fell silent again.
A moment later, the always silent Lu Xingping finally spoke: “You didn’t think so before.”
Qiao Nanqi slowly, very slowly, nodded: “…Yes.”
He remembered the night Zhao Rong moved out, he had a fever and even called Lu Xingping. He was right there, and Lu Xingping said some things about Zhao Rong to him. At that time, he felt that his feelings for Zhao Rong… were liking, but not love.
In fact, until today, he had been trying to convince himself to stick to that.
Because Zhao Rong had already left.
“Convince.”
These two words were actually enough to explain everything.
There had been signs all along.
But he had been blinded by a single leaf.
Was it because of that litter of stray cats Zhao Rong had been raising for ten years that he finally removed the leaf that had been obstructing his view today?
Indeed it was.
Before he was sixteen, the person he respected and loved most was Qiao Anqing. His mother was the previous generation’s heir of the Qiao family, sharp yet gentle, extremely kind and harmonious towards him, and taught him many things. Even long before, He Nan was also a kind father.
They had once promised him forever, permanence.
No one delivered.
He would no longer believe in things that didn’t exist.
So when he moved out of here, he hadn’t considered taking those stray cats with him. Afterward, he never even mentioned them, treating them as something sealed in a corner, best forgotten.
Nothing could ever stay by his side forever.
But Zhao Rong, as if striking a snake at its seven-inch vital point, told him—yes, it can.
He just hadn’t seen it himself and had let go.
But was it entirely because of that litter of stray cats?
Not entirely.
Looking back now, he had always taken Zhao Rong’s presence for granted, so much so that even at this moment, he was unwilling to believe the fact that Zhao Rong could easily withdraw and leave… But wasn’t it precisely because he had already tacitly accepted this “forever” from Zhao Rong in his heart?
That litter of stray cats was merely a key, a key to unlock the thoughts he had never seen.
Over the years, whenever Qiao Nanqi lost control of his emotions, he mostly sought help from Lu Xingping. Lu Xingping knew some things.
He briefly recounted the story of the litter of stray cats that spanned ten years. After listening, Lu Xingping suddenly said, “So you like the person who secretly raised a litter of stray cats for you, or an uneducated, ‘foul within’ good-for-nothing?”
It was clearly one person, yet Qiao Nanqi said, “Neither… is it.”
Lu Xingping raised an eyebrow.
Qiao Nanqi slowly, firmly said, “I like Zhao Rong.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Xia Yuantu came in carrying a few bottles of alcohol.
Qiao Nanqi took the opened bottle from him, didn’t even bother with a glass, and tilted his head back to drink directly.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, take it easy! It’s 52 proof!”
Qiao Nanqi actually didn’t have much tolerance for alcohol.
Since childhood, he had been someone who didn’t need to force himself to socialize with others. Even at polite gatherings, few people dared to ply him with drinks. A few sips from him were considered a great honor.
Tonight, he had no appetite to eat. Drinking such a large gulp of alcohol on an empty stomach, the spicy taste burned his throat, causing a sharp stomach ache.
The pain made him very clear-headed.
This night felt very long.
Actually, they didn’t drink for long before Qiao Nanqi got drunk. After Lu Xingping and Xia Yuantu left, he didn’t even want to go to bed alone. He lay on the sofa with a blanket, his mind a jumble of thoughts.
Why didn’t Zhao Rong believe he just genuinely wanted to see him?
Who was that woman who appeared with Zhao Rong?
Where was Zhao Rong now? Why did Zhao Rong suddenly not want to be with him anymore? What would it take for Zhao Rong to move back?
Did Zhao Rong still like him? After the marriage agreement ended, Zhao Rong had gone to see Lu Xingping a few times. Was it still because he cared about the rumors spreading outside?
…
When his thoughts were a tangled mess, he didn’t know what he was thinking. When he came to, he had already dialed Zhao Rong’s number.
The busy tone rang twice, then abruptly stopped. His heart hung high, waiting for Zhao Rong’s voice, but he only saw the dialing page disappear.
Zhao Rong didn’t answer and hang up like before.
Nor did he miss the call.
He had directly rejected his call.
Silence fell again.
“Not answering?”
When Zhao Ming looked at Zhao Rong, Zhao Rong had just ended a call that had only rung for a moment.
He said, “It’s not an important call. I want to talk with you.”
Zhao Ming had been unconscious more often than usual lately, and she had just been unconscious for a while. Zhao Rong remembered the doctor’s instructions, so he took advantage of her lucidity, pulled a chair, and sat by her bed to chat.
He grew up in an orphanage in his previous life, and in this life, he was a rootless wanderer. Other blood relatives either looked down on him or wanted to harm him. The person he had loved for ten years had never truly looked at him or given him any chance to speak.
Only Zhao Ming maintained his connection to this world.
He had been annoyed by the uncontrolled words he spoke during Qiao Nanqi’s call tonight, feeling that those words were truly unnecessary.
Those words, heard by someone who fundamentally wouldn’t care, would only be an incomprehensible joke.
But after talking with Zhao Ming for a while, aimlessly chatting about various topics, Zhao Rong completely calmed down.
He had actually been worrying himself unnecessarily.
It didn’t matter what he said or didn’t say, what Qiao Nanqi heard or didn’t hear. None of it mattered anymore. These things were no longer relevant to him.
As for why Qiao Nanqi had been so abnormal these past few days, that also had nothing to do with him.
He clearly wanted to be a free-spirited person.
He shouldn’t be as constrained and hesitant as before.
All he needed to do was, as he did now, lightly tap the screen and dismiss this incoming call without any contact name.
With just that tap, in an instant, Zhao Rong felt the weight on his heart lighten.
“If you have something,” Zhao Ming smiled slightly, “don’t mind me. At my age, and not having been out for so many years, talking to me is too boring.”
“What could I have? Don’t worry, it’s not boring.”
“Didn’t I see you and Xiao Fang busy with things these past few days?” She raised her hand and gently patted Zhao Rong’s forehead. “My son is so excellent; what he’s busy with must be very important.”
“Only you say I’m excellent every day,” Zhao Rong sighed. “Say it too much and I’ll start to believe it.”
“I saw the news,” Zhao Ming suddenly said.
Zhao Rong was stunned.
Zhao Ming’s eyes were a little red.
She looked at Zhao Rong gently and whispered, “Your grand-uncle and cousin are in trouble now. All the dirty deeds they did before have been dug up… They even have human lives on their hands. My memory isn’t good, but I only remember one year, you told me your Eldest Chen and Second Chen invited you to be a guest, and then I couldn’t find you for a month, or was it two months? All these years…”
Zhao Rong rarely interrupted her: “Mom, what are you talking about? That month or so, I had a minor illness and a small surgery in the hospital.”
He handed her the apple he had just peeled. “Here, eat the apple. After you eat, I’ll show you some photos. I’ve chosen several plots of land in Zhuxi that can be developed now. You can see which area you like, and I’ll build a sanatorium next to it…”
“…”
The next morning, when Qiao Nanqi woke up, he had a momentary headache.
Although he hadn’t drunk much last night before getting drunk, he was drunk nonetheless. Yet his dreams were not pleasant, and he woke up after not much sleep.
He frowned as he got up and looked at his phone—the time was 6:34 AM.
Earlier than he usually woke up.
The space beside him was still empty.
It had been countless days since there was another person sleeping by the edge of the bed, lying on their side, hearing his morning movements, frowning in a half-asleep, half-awake state, sometimes even vaguely telling him, “Be careful on the road…”
His head throbbed.
He swiped open the screen and looked at his unread messages. At the top was a message from Lu Xingping, and the second was a message from Xia Yuantu after he left last night.
Lu Xingping: “Your condition has actually been quite good these past two years, but recently I’ve noticed you’re having insomnia and waking up startled again. If it worsens, come to me promptly. Considering your emotional wounds, I’ll give you a 10% discount, but emotional wounds increase the difficulty of consultation, so I’ll charge an additional 30% after the discount. Remember to pay 17% more next time.”
Qiao Nanqi: “…”
He clicked on the second message.
Xia Yuantu: “I heard Zhao Rong has an appointment in a couple of days with some second-generation rich kids at a bar in the new district. If you’ve really thought it through and understood, Zhao Rong liked you so much, he probably won’t change his mind quickly. It’s not impossible to invite him home. But Old Qiao, this mess between you two has been going on for over a year now, and I don’t know what to say, but you still need to think clearly.”
Xia Yuantu: “[Address Share]”
Qiao Nanqi sent a “thank you” to both of them.
He got out of bed and, alone, faced the late autumn morning breeze, returning to the empty cat shelter.
The sticky note that had been re-attached yesterday was still quietly stuck to the side of the cat shelter, sealed firmly with the new tape he had put on yesterday.
But this cat shelter was truly empty; it was unlikely there were any forgotten kittens. He wondered if anyone else would see this sticky note in the future, and brush past this past that not only he knew.
He had always thought that Zhao Rong, to him, was like those small cats that once lived in this cat shelter. An unexpected passerby in his life, whom he liked and wanted to keep by his side, but could let go of and forget.
Looking back now, he only just understood that he, to Zhao Rong, was like this group of stray cats to Zhao Rong.
At first, they only needed to wait for Zhao Rong to come every day, waiting for Zhao Rong’s feeding, unrestrained, free and easy. But one day Zhao Rong stopped coming, and he no longer raised this litter of stray cats. They had nowhere to go, and their original home would not take them back. And Zhao Rong, seemingly giving them a good place to go, would never actively seek them out again.
Qiao Nanqi stood there for a long while.
He stood until rush hour, and even though passersby occasionally glanced at him, he didn’t leave.
The slanting sun moved slightly higher, dazzlingly bright, yet it couldn’t warm the cool breeze.
Qiao Nanqi didn’t notice how long he had been there.
He felt he had thought about many things, but when he came to, he didn’t know what he had thought.
He only knew that he had figured it out.
Figured it out clearly and plainly.
He didn’t want to lose Zhao Rong.
He couldn’t lose Zhao Rong.
He must—he must get Zhao Rong back.