Chapter 51#

Zhao Rong hurriedly stepped forward, picked up his phone, and opened the chat box. Sure enough, following his question, Lu Xingping had replied with just a single word: “Okay.”

He stared at the screen for a while before coming to his senses and saying to Liu Shun: “Let’s go.”

The rooms they had booked were on the top floor, and there were only a few. The hallway was empty; Lu Xingping should have already taken Lu Xiaoyue home. As for the room Qiao Nanqi stayed in last night, the door was open, and someone was cleaning inside. It seemed Qiao Nanqi had left long ago.

Zhao Rong glanced at the carpet.

It was empty; there was nothing there.

That ring had already been picked up.

He looked away and followed Liu Shun into the elevator.

On the other side.

Last night.

Xiao Wu was woken up from his sleep by a call from Xia Yuantu. After that young master went back, he was still a bit worried about new situations at the hotel. He originally wanted to call and ask how Qiao Nanqi was doing, but after several calls, no one picked up.

As it happened, some temporary company matters required Xia Yuantu’s attention, so he called Xiao Wu, waking him up in the middle of the night to go to the hotel and keep an eye on things.

When Xiao Wu arrived at the address and room number given by Xia Yuantu, it was already very late. The weather outside was getting colder, with a faint sense of an approaching storm.

The hotel had temporarily turned on the heating, and waves of warm air blew through the hallway, making one feel quite dazed.

To the point that when Xiao Wu first saw what Qiao Nanqi was doing, he even felt he hadn’t woken up yet and had been dreaming from the moment he received Xia Yuantu’s call until now.

In the past, Young Master Qiao—who had everything from a cup of tea to any object prepared and brought before him, who was clean and tidy from head to toe, and even so fastidious that there wasn’t a single wrinkle—was now kneeling on one knee and half-sitting on the floor, head bowed, clutching something in his hand.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was filled with the haggardness of not having slept well. He didn’t even react when Xiao Wu approached.

For a moment, Xiao Wu could only think of the word “sorry state.”

“…Sir?”

Xiao Wu slowly crouched down in front of him. “What are you…? Mr. Xia asked me to see if you need any help…”

Only then did Qiao Nanqi glance at him.

He seemed to have just realized the situation and was stunned for a moment.

Then, he actually lowered his voice and said: “Did you drive here?”

His voice was very low and deep, cautious, as if afraid of waking someone.

Xiao Wu nodded.

He glanced at Qiao Nanqi’s hand again and finally saw from the edge of the object showing that it seemed to be a ring.

Qiao Nanqi tightened his grip on the object, put one hand in his pocket, and said: “Go home—back to the place where I lived before.”

“But I haven’t found anyone to clean it up yet…”

“Go back there first.” There was an indisputable certainty in his tone.

Xiao Wu had no choice but to drive Qiao Nanqi home.

After returning, Qiao Nanqi told Xiao Wu to go back and rest, and asked him to find someone to clean up tomorrow and bring the cats back.

Afterward, he couldn’t care less about the room that hadn’t been cleaned for a long time. Upon entering, he began searching through his memory. Although his house was large, he didn’t use many areas daily; it was mostly the bedroom, study, and music room. The bedroom was just a place to sleep where Zhao Rong liked to stay, while he preferred the study.

So Qiao Nanqi first found a box to put away the wedding ring Zhao Rong had thrown on the floor. He placed it temporarily on the desk and began searching through the cabinets in the study for the other ring.

He was actually very clear that even if he found it, Zhao Rong wouldn’t care if he wore it or not.

But he still wanted to find it.

It was as if Zhao Rong was lost, and he was picking him up. As long as he found it, he could tell himself—he could pick it up again, he could find it again.

Qiao Nanqi searched through them one by one with a chaotic mind, not even missing the gaps between books.

As he was searching, his movements paused when he reached a certain shelf.

His gaze stopped on a stack of letter paper sitting in an empty compartment.

Memories from earlier flashed by—this seemed to be what Zhao Rong had thrown into the living room trash can before leaving.

After the housekeeper picked it up, Xia Yuantu had placed it here for him. At that time, he hadn’t recognized his feelings for Zhao Rong and had no mind to deal with these miscellaneous things.

But now, Zhao Rong’s departure was so complete that he had nothing related to Zhao Rong except that one ring and a litter of cats. These things Zhao Rong had casually discarded were, for him, among the few remaining connections to Zhao Rong.

Zhao Rong discarded them like worn-out shoes, while Qiao Nanqi cherished them like treasures.

Even if this was perhaps just a pile of trash to Zhao Rong, Qiao Nanqi still reached out and picked up the items.

At the very top was a stack of letter paper, the edges yellowed, clearly many years old. It was unclear what it was for. Did Zhao Rong have a habit or hobby of using letters when he was young?

Standing before the bookshelf, Qiao Nanqi arranged the papers neatly and set them aside. Then he saw several unused envelopes. Although the envelopes didn’t contain anything, stamps had already been affixed, and there were several lines of elegant handwriting on them. Clearly, the writer had prepared them all at once for future use, but for some reason, they were never used.

One of the addresses was one Qiao Nanqi didn’t recognize, and the signature was Zhao Rong.

And another column…

Was his address on Changxi Road.

At the end, the three characters for “Qiao Nanqi” were written neatly.

Was this what Zhao Rong intended to send to him? The letter paper was already yellowed, and the address written was also the place where he lived in his teens. Could it be that back then, besides those cats, Zhao Rong had also sent him letters?

But he had never opened that mailbox.

It wasn’t that he intentionally didn’t look, but rather he had never thought he could take anything out of it.

He suppressed the urge to return to the old house on Changxi Road right now to open the mailbox, moved the envelope aside, and found another object underneath.

This was not a paper item like letter paper or envelopes, but a palm-sized identification card. Although the card didn’t look new, it wasn’t so old that its age could be seen at a glance like the letter paper, and the plastic film on the corners was slightly curled.

At the very top of the ID was the name of Zhao Rong’s university, and further down were the eight smaller characters for “Library Assistant Worker.”

Zhao Rong’s college-era photo was on the right. The background was a deep blue, making the youth’s complexion in the photo appear even fairer. The slight smile was as bright as ever, but his eyes held a bit more restraint, and the natural innocence of youth in his features had vanished.

At first glance, it was as if the youth who had just returned to the Chen family and hidden all his brilliance was smiling at him, his eyes crinkling.

On the other side of the photo were Zhao Rong’s name and the semester dates of his work.

These dates made Qiao Nanqi freeze for a moment, suddenly remembering that it seemed to be exactly the time he frequently went to the library. And the end of the period was exactly the semester he graduated from university.

This sudden work ID was like an arrow from nowhere, piercing his body and pinning him in place, unable to move.

Qiao Nanqi’s breathing hitched.

Library…?

Some seemingly trivial memories popped into his mind.

— “Did Chen the Second say why he did it?”

— “He did. Chen the First discovered he frequently went to the library for a period and was afraid he had some other ideas.”

— “Right. Later, Chen the First locked him up for over a month. Finding that he really was a ‘useless piece of mud that couldn’t be plastered onto a wall,’ he let him go.”

There was a time when he was pushed hard by He Nan, to the point that even Lu Xingping’s frequent attempts to soothe his emotions were useless. He tried to read books, sitting in the library of Zhao Rong’s university, often for a long time.

At the beginning, he just thought of giving it a try and didn’t think he would stay long.

But from some unknown day, a book list began to appear in the books he read. It was printed, and the ink on the paper even carried the fresh scent of just having been printed. This person did it thinking it was natural, but since he had lived alone in the Qiao house after Qiao Anqing left, his wariness and vigilance had long been tempered. How could he not feel that someone was doing this intentionally?

However, this action truly couldn’t be intended to harm him, and that book list was actually an extremely effective remedy. Following it, he actually became immersed in it. His frequency of coming to the library increased significantly, and even those negative emotions didn’t find themselves so without an outlet.

Without that period, he didn’t even know what would have happened to him after being unable to suppress his emotions.

This string after string of book lists seemed to span across time, wrapping around him bit by bit, dragging him out of the desperate situations where he was frequently on the brink of collapse. It was like the blank space in that ink-colored period of his life, a mismatched bright light.

During that time, he would occasionally see Lu Xingping’s figure in the library.

Coupled with his relationship with Lu Xingping, Qiao Nanqi had always thought this was also a way Lu Xingping helped him. Since Lu Xingping didn’t want to say it, he hadn’t taken the initiative to mention it either.

In recent years, he had occasionally mentioned books he read during his college days, but Lu Xingping had no reaction to them. He hadn’t thought of other possibilities because at that time, no one else knew of his situation, and he couldn’t find another person who was both knowledgeable and could be this delicate.

He only assumed Lu Xingping hadn’t cared.

Presently.

Some obscure past he had never discovered sprouted in his heart, and those scattered puzzle pieces slowly gathered in his mind.

Grains of sand forming a pagoda.

This pagoda pressed heavily on his heart, so hard it hurt and he almost couldn’t move.

Qiao Nanqi’s fingers loosened, and the ID he was holding slipped from his fingertips, falling to the floor with a “thud.”

He felt his eyes were a bit sore and slowly blinked, wanting to suppress the soreness, but unexpectedly, his vision became increasingly blurred.

Even Zhao Rong’s smile on the ID became blurred.

So…

So that’s how it was.

When he once thought there was no long-lasting companionship in this world, Zhao Rong had used that litter of stray cats to silently prove the existence of companionship to him.

He also felt that after Qiao Anqing left, there was no longer anyone in this world who could be good to him unreservedly, without seeking anything in return, and with all their effort. But this single ID and those desolate pasts easily written on paper to explain everything proved a courageous devotion to him.

Even though the Chen family watched Zhao Rong like that, and Zhao Rong could say nothing and reveal nothing, he still did it.

Even because of this…

Qiao Nanqi remembered a winter day over a year ago.

On a night after some unknown gathering, Zhao Rong had chased after him as he left early and called out to him.

He turned around.

But Zhao Rong had become hesitant: “I, I have one, one thing I want to ask…”

He stood there, unmoving, waiting for Zhao Rong to speak.

After a long time, Zhao Rong lowered his head and finally managed to say: “…If you need a marriage partner, I can do it.”

At that time, Qiao Nanqi’s expression shifted slightly—first surprise, then he feigned consideration for a while.

He should have weighed the pros and cons, should have cautiously tested, should have investigated carefully. But at that time, he seemed to have only thought briefly—if it was Zhao Rong, it wasn’t impossible.

So he nodded: “Okay.”

…

The sound of the wind outside grew louder.

Fine snow drifted outside the window, looking like glowing catkins under the light of the night lamps.

The icy cold covered everything, yet in this world, he was all alone.

He had only just discovered these truths, yet Zhao Rong had left.

These traces of the past were even lightly thrown into the trash can by Zhao Rong, clearly no longer caring.

When he lacked patience in the past, Zhao Rong had no chance to speak. Now Zhao Rong clearly had many chances to tell him—to demand a reward for his favors, or simply just to mock him—all would have been fine. But Zhao Rong still didn’t say it. It was as if he had loved silently in the past, not seeking a response, and after leaving, he threw these away and quietly took those memories with him.

…Is this truly the way to love someone?

There was such a person who, spanning over a decade, just because of a few drops of light he had casually shed, used all his strength and courage to silently accompany him and love him through actions, leaving such a trace of gentleness in the softest part of his heart.

This person was pushed away by his own hands.

Over a year ago, he had clearly already been moved by Zhao Rong, who had entered his world with a temperament slightly different from others. He had clearly already fallen in love with Zhao Rong before knowing these truths. He clearly could have held Zhao Rong’s hand at that time and become each other’s lives.

They could have been a different way.

But he just walked forward alone.

Now he wanted to turn back and hold the other’s hand again, but even if he offered everything he owned with both hands, compared to the companionship and secret support during those long years, all the goodness, all the compensation, and all the corrections of mistakes all seemed like hypocritical posturing born of guilt.

His love was too light.

Unable to withstand a single blow, not worth mentioning.