Chapter 5#

Ten or so years, to an old person approaching the end of their life, was not a long time.

But in the eyes of young people in their twenties or thirties, it was practically most of their lives.

Actually, the “Zhao Rong” in “The Return” and Qiao Nanqi didn’t meet so early, nor did they know each other for that long.

In the plot of this book, “Zhao Rong” was a cannon fodder who appeared in the latter half, the first step for Qiao Nanqi to suppress the Chen family.

The reason Zhao Rong deviated from the plot and met Qiao Nanqi more than ten years earlier could be said to be an accident, but also not an accident.

In his previous life, Zhao Rong grew up in an orphanage and had no relatives since childhood. Just when he finally got a stable job that could support himself, he was diagnosed with a hereditary terminal illness—this might also be the reason why he became an orphan in the first place.

He was treated in the hospital for three years. When bored, he liked to read. He read the book “The Return” no less than five times and was very familiar with the plot inside.

Later, as his illness reached its end and he thought his short life was about to finish, unexpectedly, he opened his eyes again to a strange world and became a nine-year-old child.

When Zhao Rong woke up at that time, he was lying in a dim corridor, the back of his head wet—that was blood. In the dirty corridor without light, with sticky and cold blood on his fingertips, he slowly realized his situation amidst confusion and helplessness.

The original “Zhao Rong” seemed to have accidentally fallen while coming home from school, hit his head, and died directly.

But this nine-year-old body didn’t stiffen; what replaced him to live on was a young but mature soul.

Zhao Rong rummaged through all the exercise books and student ID cards in his schoolbag and waited in the corridor for Zhao Ming, who was coming home from grocery shopping. After Zhao Ming took him home, he spent a few days completely matching his identity—he had transmigrated to the childhood of a cannon fodder with the same name and surname who appeared for less than a few chapters in the book “The Return”.

He originally had little to do with the plot. Even the so-called end of “Zhao Rong” in the original book could be considered a beautiful ending for him, who was an orphan and had a terminal illness in his previous life.

A brand new life was hard-won. Zhao Rong immediately decided to follow the plot, be a qualified little cannon fodder, then retire after success and live his own carefree life.

Zhao Ming was an unexpected surprise.

Although Zhao Ming at that time was already lucid at times and foolish at others, her affection for Zhao Rong was impeccable. Even if they were huddled in a dilapidated old residential building, living in a cramped small apartment, even if Zhao Ming with health problems could only make a living by taking some odd housekeeping jobs, even if life was very straitened, she still gave Zhao Rong the best of everything she could get.

She didn’t know that the one she had a spring fling with was the prominent Chen Fengnian. She was just alone in this place with no relatives, trying her best to give Zhao Rong the best care.

Zhao Rong had never experienced such family affection in his previous life, so he cherished it extraordinarily in this life.

Although his body was still a child, his soul was an adult who had experienced life and death. While going to school, he looked for hourly jobs that children could also get paid for as much as possible, helping people distribute flyers and the like. Just like that, he and Zhao Ming depended on each other for life in the old rental for five years.

He originally thought such days would continue until the plot of “The Return” began. After he passed the plot, he would live a stable life with Zhao Ming.

But in the year Zhao Rong turned fourteen, Zhao Ming suddenly developed a high fever in the middle of the night that wouldn’t go down no matter what.

Zhao Rong called for an ambulance, carried Zhao Ming on his thin back down the dark corridor, and sent her onto the ambulance. At the hospital, he learned that this wasn’t an ordinary fever at all, but an attack of those problems in Zhao Ming’s brain.

Sitting outside the emergency room, recalling that the plot of the original book only mentioned “Zhao Rong’s” mother’s identity in passing, he finally understood—when “Zhao Rong” in the original book appeared, Zhao Ming had probably long died in this illness attack. It was just that the current him wasn’t a fourteen-year-old child. The plot that should have happened changed because of him. Zhao Ming not only didn’t die of illness but also survived this crisis because of timely rescue.

Zhao Rong, however, couldn’t breathe a sigh of relief.

He needed money. Needed a lot of money.

Although Zhao Ming was saved, it was a fact that her condition was more serious, and she needed long-term hospitalization and treatment.

But they had no money. Let alone those expensive treatment plans, just for the hospitalization costs, all the savings in Zhao Ming’s card added together were not enough to pay for a week.

No matter how mature Zhao Rong’s soul was, he was just a child with great restrictions even on opening a bank card.

Before transmigrating, he was just an ordinary person with no ability to make money out of thin air. Even if he knew the plot of “The Return”, those plots were closely related to the male lead Qiao Nanqi. He had no way to start, nor could he find the Chen family members who hadn’t appeared yet out of thin air.

Zhao Rong couldn’t remember the specific mood at that time.

He only remembered that he basically dialed Qiao Nanqi’s phone number in a desperate attempt. That string of numbers was made up in the original text of “The Return”. Perhaps the author, to make up the word count, would always make this string of numbers appear whenever other characters contacted Qiao Nanqi. Zhao Rong had read this book so many times and was very familiar with this string of numbers, still remembering it after a few years.

He actually wasn’t sure if Qiao Nanqi in his youth had started using this number.

He also wasn’t sure if the person on the other end would pay attention to his strange call coming out of the blue.

But he still called with a try-and-see mentality.

In the hot summer, the air conditioning in the hospital was clearly at a moderate temperature, but Zhao Rong felt excessively cold, his palms icy. He clutched the phone tightly to his ear, the sweat on his palm dampening the back of the phone.

He waited with rapid breathing. The busy tone rang continuously for more than ten times before connecting.

A boyish voice that had just undergone voice change came from the other end, clear and clean, also moistened with a trace of gentleness: “…Who is this?”

Zhao Rong’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, his hand holding the medical record book tightened, forcefully crumpling the not-thin medical record book into deep wrinkles.

For the first time in his life, borrowing money from a stranger whose location was unknown, he took a deep breath before speaking while leaning against the white wall of the hospital corridor.

By the time he finished stating his situation and purpose, he felt like a scammer himself. And the person listening on the other side was the protagonist for whom this world existed, upon whom all rhetoric for “excellence” was piled.

But the other end of the phone was quiet for a few seconds. The sixteen-year-old Qiao Nanqi didn’t hang up, but asked him: “How did you get my phone number?”

Zhao Rong was stunned for a moment and said clumsily: “I just, just wanted to find someone to help, dialed randomly… gave it a try…”

Qiao Nanqi seemed to chuckle, didn’t ask further, just asked him for the hospital address and ward number.

Zhao Rong’s mind was in chaos. Standing in the hospital corridor, he waited for the boy still wearing a high school uniform.

The sixteen-year-old Qiao Nanqi had just started high school, with neat and clean short black hair, carrying a schoolbag on one shoulder, wearing a pure white sports-style school uniform. The zipper of the uniform was slightly open, and the size seemed a bit loose. But at the age of growth spurts, the loose uniform not only didn’t make him look thin and weak but instead made his figure appear taller and more outstanding.

At that time, Qiao Nanqi’s mother hadn’t committed suicide yet, nor had he broken with his father. He was still a boy growing up surrounded by stars, confident and bright, far from the unfathomable depth and sharpness he had now.

When he stood at the door of the ward like this, passing nurses looked back several times.

Completely different from the cautious, calculating Qiao Nanqi Zhao Rong learned about from the book.

Zhao Rong was physically still fourteen years old then. Standing in front of Qiao Nanqi, he had to look up to meet this person’s gaze.

He looked up at the other slightly, opened his mouth, and before the draft he had just prepared could be spoken, Qiao Nanqi turned his head to look at Zhao Ming lying on the hospital bed in the ward and said: “Looks like not a little scammer.”

The boy swung his schoolbag to the front, unzipped it, took out the wallet inside, and asked him: “Where is the payment counter?”

Zhao Rong blinked, his immature eyes instantly filled with bewilderment.

For anyone else in this world except him, he had just randomly dialed a string of numbers, a stranger on the other end answered the call, and in the same city, came to him without a word.

And frankly said he was going to pay.

After all, he wasn’t really a fourteen-year-old child; he still had the experience and reactions an adult should have.

After a moment of stupor, Zhao Rong lowered his head shyly and said: “Thank you.”

He turned immediately, leading Qiao Nanqi all the way to the payment counter.

To ease the strange and awkward atmosphere between the two, Zhao Rong tried to take the initiative to bring up a few topics. In the hurry just now, he didn’t feel it, but after really interacting for a few rounds, he found that Qiao Nanqi didn’t deviate from the character setting in the original book.

Although Qiao Nanqi seemed to have come alone, there were people obviously dressed as bodyguards following before and after in the corridor. And the teenage Qiao Nanqi beside him seemed casual and impulsive, but once Zhao Rong mentioned some topics on personal information, Qiao Nanqi could always deflect them effortlessly.

A boy of this age should clearly still be running wild on the playground in a school uniform, yet this person had already concealed his sharpness and revealed a bright light.

Zhao Rong couldn’t help but look at Qiao Nanqi a few more times.

—During which he was caught by Qiao Nanqi’s gaze twice.

When Qiao Nanqi paid all the fees at once, Zhao Rong lay on the counter window, writing an IOU stroke by stroke properly.

He handed it to Qiao Nanqi. The other party took it, glanced at it briefly while spread on his palm, then directly tore this IOU into several pieces, balled them up, and threw them into the trash can in the corner.

“Not out of kindness,” he said, “I don’t lack money.”

Only now, vaguely recalling this not accidental yet accidental first meeting, did Zhao Rong know that Qiao Nanqi was very serious about these words.

All this should have actually stopped at the kindness of money and goods cleared, rather than starting from wishful thinking.

The daylight hours in autumn always become shorter and shorter. Zhao Rong sat with Zhao Ming in the small courtyard for a while longer, and the sky had already begun to turn dark.

He raised his hand and waved it in front of Zhao Ming’s eyes, but Zhao Ming still had no reaction. After so many years, Zhao Ming’s condition had become increasingly serious. Even with the best medical conditions now, the days of lucidity were becoming fewer day by day. The doctor had also forewarned Zhao Rong—Zhao Ming might become completely demented at any time, or even…

Regarding Zhao Ming’s physical condition, Zhao Rong was not particularly obsessed. He also died of a terminal illness before transmigrating, knowing very well in his heart that people will die sooner or later, just do one’s best and have no regrets.

The only obsession he was desperate and unrepentant about in his two lives was Qiao Nanqi.

But now…

Not so obsessed anymore.

When Zhao Rong returned home, Qiao Nanqi was already there.

Just after dark, Qiao Nanqi was usually outside at this time. When Zhao Rong pushed the door open and saw this person sitting on the sofa, he paused for a moment before saying: “Back so early?”

Qiao Nanqi seemed to be dealing with some work, looking at the laptop on his lap. This person usually handled official business at the company; it was rare at this time.

Zhao Rong had just changed into slippers and walked into the living room when he suddenly heard him ask: “Didn’t go to the company again today?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you go do?”

Zhao Rong still wanted to ask him why he didn’t return the call from last night. This person asked first instead.

Qiao Nanqi was the one who disliked even a hint of alcohol smell on him after he showered. Qiao Nanqi was the one who put on clothes and left after doing business with him at the company. Qiao Nanqi was the one who didn’t want to bring him along for social engagements. Qiao Nanqi was the one who didn’t return all night. And the one at Lu Xingping’s house today was still Qiao Nanqi.

As a result, as soon as he got home, this person sat properly on the sofa and asked him what he went to do.

He really didn’t go do anything.

He just went to take a look at the door of his former fiancé Lu Xingping’s house, and then spent the whole day with Zhao Ming at the sanatorium.

It would be too easy to explain this.

But he was rebellious.

He blinked, his eyebrows bending slightly, hooking up a smile that couldn’t be told as real or fake. With one hand in his pocket, he leaned his whole body against the side of the sofa and said casually: “Liu Shun told me last night that he found a new venue, quite fun.”

There was not a bit of falsehood in his sentence.

“I should have told you once, if you don’t have the mind to stay at the company, don’t go.”

Zhao Rong glanced at Qiao Nanqi’s sharply defined side profile.

He nodded a few times to himself, lifted his foot, and walked towards the bedroom. He said: “Fine, won’t go.”

A calm door closing sound rang out; Zhao Rong entered the bedroom.

Qiao Nanqi’s hand placed on the keyboard paused slightly.