Zhu Jingru stared blankly at the torn photo. When he came to his senses, he realized the wind was quite strong. He took off his scarf, his fingers trembling slightly from the cold.
Behind him, the pastry chef reminded him, “Mr. Zhu, the manager left a while ago.”
“Thank you.” A smile remained on Zhu Jingru’s face. As he left the kitchen, his elbow accidentally knocked over a glass cup.
The glass instantly shattered on the floor with a crisp sound.
The pastry chef was stunned. “I’ll go get a broom and sweep it up…”
Zhu Jingru bent down and picked up the pieces with his bare hands, throwing them into the trash can one by one. Then, he explained unhurriedly, “It’s a good omen. For the new year, ‘sui sui ping an’ (shattered for peace).”
“Hey, is your hand okay?” The pastry chef saw that Zhu Jingru’s finger had been cut, and it seemed to be bleeding a little. But she spoke too late; he had already left. His retreating figure looked lonely, leaving an unpleasant feeling in its wake.
Business at the bar was good on New Year’s Day. The private room on the third floor was closed as usual. Zhu Jingru was making tea. He didn’t notice the Yixing teapot overflowing until the hot water scalded him. Looking at the messy tea leaves on the table, he murmured “what a waste” under his breath.
This was the first time Zhu Jingru had tasted the bitterness of love. He mulled it over for a long time before finally picking up a pen. He drew the jade Guanyin pendant dangling from a fingertip. He had memorized it after just a few brief glances. As he drew, he covered his own face with the paper, as if Bai Qinglin’s hand were caressing his cheek.
It was a lie to say he wasn’t dejected.
To be able to brush off rejection after rejection was called a conquest, where the top of the food chain has a sure victory over the next link down. Zhu Jingru admitted to himself that he was not at all steady.
His emotions were easily influenced, his heart easily filled with apprehension. Zhu Jingru had thoroughly surrendered. The red mole at the corner of his upturned eye was distinct. He closed his eyes and replayed everything in his mind, bit by bit.
Was he too wild?
Did he provoke him to the point of intolerance?
Zhu Jingru knew where Bai Qinglin’s bottom line was, which was why he hadn’t dared to cross the line even half a step. No matter how much he flirted, it was always just teasing.
Something suddenly occurred to Zhu Jingru. He thought for a moment, then stood up, tossed the drawing aside, and prepared to call Yue Chuan.
The Wennan Reservoir allowed for night fishing. This time, Yue Chuan had followed Bai Qinglin to watch the excitement. As it turned out, fishing was a lonely endeavor, and watching it was truly boring.
Yue Chuan’s gossipy heart never stopped.
“Is it really hopeless?”
“…”
“You two were out for a whole night and a day, and nothing happened?”
Bai Qinglin stared intently at the bait illuminated by his flashlight, as if he wouldn’t be flustered even if Mount Tai collapsed before him.
Yue Chuan had grown up with Bai Qinglin and was used to this impervious demeanor of his—devoid of human warmth, all rules and silence, stiff and formal.
But he couldn’t be blamed… a family like that would make anyone lonely for life; it was only normal.
He muttered to himself, “What if Zhu Jingru changes his mind tomorrow and falls for someone else? Who knows who’ll be drowning in jealousy then.”
Bai Qinglin’s hand on the fishing rod paused for a beat. In the blink of an eye, the bait was eaten by a fish, but he forgot to reel in the line.
The wind blew across the water. Yue Chuan walked a distance away to answer a call.
Bai Qinglin bent down to open a new pack of cigarettes. Skin hunger, like his nicotine addiction, was incurable. The lighter failed to work because of the strong wind. In the end, he didn’t manage to light it. As he unscrewed his thermos, he thought of Zhu Jingru again.
The first encounter by the river had been premeditated long ago. The one who takes the initiative holds all the power. They can approach, and they can also disappear, turning and leaving without a trace of lingering affection after a bit of flirtation.
Bai Qinglin loathed the feeling of losing control. Things that were difficult to control and could potentially be lost, including people—cutting losses in time was always simple and effective.
He had predicted that Zhu Jingru would go to the café, and he had also predicted that he would see the photo.
The hundreds of text messages and pictures came to an abrupt halt on the first day of the new year. It was Bai Qinglin’s own choice. He didn’t regret it.
Yue Chuan made sure he was far enough away before calling Zhu Jingru back. “Hello.”
“Teacher Yue, sorry to bother you again.”
“No bother, no bother. As long as that model is handsome, everything else is a small matter.”
After a low chuckle, Zhu Jingru said, “This time, I’ll have to trouble you to come to my place to get the scarf and return it to Boss Bai for me.”
Yue Chuan probed, “What did you call him?”
“…”
Yue Chuan found his answer in the silence. “Alright. I’ll just go pick up your two items and return them to you at the same time.”
“Okay.” Zhu Jingru hung up crisply.
Yue Chuan’s heart turned half-cold. He looked into the distance at Bai Qinglin, who was still sitting there.
Still fishing? The show’s really over now.
At 9:30 PM, Bai Qinglin returned home. He paused for a moment before entering. He glanced down at his phone, which had not a single new message, then reined in his thoughts. After a shower, he turned on the TV to watch the evening news again. On the coffee table were a newspaper and an ashtray.
The house was empty. Perhaps he hadn’t felt it before, but now it just felt too quiet.
So quiet it made one feel lonely.
Bai Qinglin always took off the jade Guanyin from his neck when he showered. Guanyin should not touch water. Once it did, it would lose its restraint and order, breaking a Buddhist precept. He had worn it according to the rules for many years.
The only time he had broken the precept was when Zhu Jingru had led him to jump into the sea.
Bai Qinglin sat there, turned on the TV to watch the evening news, and continued to repeat the life he had originally planned for himself. Wasn’t this how it was supposed to be… Before turning off the TV, he rubbed his sore temples and made an appointment with a psychologist.
That night, he tossed and turned in bed again. Tobacco could not alleviate the emptiness.
Only by truly touching another person could one be saved.
Bai Qinglin wanted to save himself but couldn’t suppress his longing. He got up, his back bent, and took a deep, almost defeated breath, trying to calm the riotous thoughts.
At three in the morning, he finished a cold shower. Water droplets hung from the ends of his damp hair, a chill spreading through his body.
Bai Qinglin’s fingers were stiff. As if accepting his fate, he walked towards the balcony where Zhu Jingru’s clothes had been hanging.
It was, however, completely empty.
Soon, Yue Chuan was startled awake by the loud sound of a door being pushed open. Still sleepy, he was jolted with another shock.
Bai Qinglin’s brow bones were deep-set, his pupils very dark. When he stared at someone motionlessly, it was especially terrifying, let alone in the middle of the night. His voice was laced with frustration, barely maintaining its steadiness. “Where are his clothes?”
“I returned them… He returned your scarf too, it’s on the sofa…”
Bai Qinglin turned to leave, intending to find the scarf, his movements betraying a hint of impatience.
Yue Chuan: “Later, he said he didn’t want the clothes anymore and told me to throw them away.”
Bai Qinglin’s retreating figure froze stiffly. His hands, which had been clenched into fists, fell limply to his sides.
