Tang Chen drove to the downstairs of Bai Qinglin’s home and waited. Not long after, Zhu Jingru came down. His gait was exceptionally showy, flamboyantly so, and his expression was also very subtle, clearly indicating he had done something that could not see the light of day.
“Did you take liberties with him?” Tang Chen asked boldly.
Zhu Jingru got into the passenger seat. “No.”
“Then what are you smiling about?”
“I’m happy.”
“???”
Zhu Jingru suddenly muttered, “He wasn’t angry just now, he didn’t even curse at me.”
Tang Chen once again had the urge to die. Why the fuck do you look so regretful?
The car drove out of Nanhai overnight, heading south all the way. Midway through the night, Zhu Jingru took over driving. When they stopped at a gas station, he posted a Moments update with just four words—Want to drink coffee.
Another person who was sleepless that night was Bai Qinglin. Everything was ordinary. Early winter, the wind was strong, so ordinary that there was nothing worth remembering.
But Bai Qinglin remembered sitting motionless on the sofa after the door was truly closed, unable to calm his racing heart. The sound of the news broadcast on the television was indistinct, his ears ringing with dead silence.
Bai Qinglin inexplicably recalled a sentence Zhu Jingru had said during a video call before, “Do you hate me now?”
Probably… not.
His lenses were fogged up by the heat. Bai Qinglin’s pupils contracted violently. The shape of the lips he saw was very beautiful, moist and flushed, the lines on them all clear.
With that kiss on his glasses lens, the word ‘pursuit’ was no longer applicable to Zhu Jingru’s actions.
With a frown, Bai Qinglin lowered his head, constantly trying to calm his chaotic breathing. He finally released his hand and took off his glasses in a rather flustered manner, throwing them heavily into the trash can just as he had treated that bouquet of roses.
Yue Chuan did not come back until three in the morning after a night of fun. As soon as he pushed open the door, he found Bai Qinglin still sitting in the living room watching a replay of the news broadcast. The room lights were not on. He was not surprised and said, “Insomnia again?”
Bai Qinglin said nothing.
Yue Chuan suggested, “Take a hot bath and some sleeping pills. If that doesn’t work, drink some alcohol to help you sleep.”
“Mm.” Bai Qinglin walked into the bedroom. After turning on the cold water, the temperature dropped abruptly. It was bone-chillingly cold. He was completely naked, his well-defined, veiny hands resting on the ceramic tiles, wanting to completely quell the agitation in his heart. However, the abyss of desire is hard to fill.
The ends of Bai Qinglin’s hair gradually became damp. Droplets of water traced down the lines of his back. His muscles were lean and not exaggerated. His body’s skin was cold and pale, his light-colored lip line drawn tight. His reaction was a beat too slow as he lowered his head. The illness he had suppressed for many years suddenly flooded over him like a tide, causing him to have a physiological reaction due to excessive emptiness.
It had nothing to do with another person.
It was just physiological desire.
The suppressed panting was very, very low. Bai Qinglin half-closed his eyes and bit down on a cigarette. The sound of the bathroom exhaust fan was amplified in the dead of night, disturbing one’s peaceful dreams.
A week passed in the blink of an eye. In the afternoon, the coffee shop was temporarily quiet. Tong Yin, Yue Chuan, the pastry chef, and Li Wenxue were playing cards, chatting as they played.
“Today is Christmas Eve, and tomorrow is Christmas Day,” Yue Chuan mentioned. “The bar across the street has even planted a huge Christmas tree at its entrance, covered in colorful lights.”
“Huang Chen said Mr. Zhu went all the way to Gansu specifically to dig it up,” Tong Yin said as she shuffled the cards.
“All that way just for a tree, only he would do that,” Li Wenxue said with a teasing laugh.
Yue Chuan counted on his fingers, “Speaking of which, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen him, almost two weeks, right?”
Li Wenxue joked, “I reckon the affair is over.”
The pastry chef immediately popped his head out. “That’s not necessarily true.”
The other three immediately turned their heads in tacit understanding to look at the ordering counter, where Bai Qinglin’s face was pale from several days of insomnia.
The pastry chef honestly lowered his voice, “A few days ago, I went to the dry cleaners, and the manager was there too. He was holding the coat that Mr. Zhu had worn.”
At night, the ginkgo avenue was bustling with excitement. Many people wore glowing headbands, red dresses, and Christmas carols played. The entire street flickered with colorful lights, and the festive atmosphere was rich.
Bai Qinglin sat by the window, flipping through a book. It was a bit difficult to see without his glasses. He raised his hand to rub his sore temples.
A customer who had finished their cake opened the door. The wind chime rang, and a cold wind seeped in, making his throat itch.
Bai Qinglin simply walked out as well to get some fresh air. He walked down the steps and leaned against a streetlight. After lighting a cigarette with a lighter, his posture instantly relaxed. The lifelessness that had lingered in his eyes for so long, along with the white mist exhaled from his nose, dissipated into the air.
In a daze, a bit of snow landed on his forehead, a moist and icy coldness. Bai Qinglin furrowed his brow. He instinctively turned his head to stare at an approaching small truck.
The sound of the horn was too loud. The low beam headlights gradually dimmed until the rear wheel of the truck stopped in front of Bai Qinglin.
The cold wind blew wantonly. The back door of the truck opened automatically. The passersby immediately started discussing in a clamor. “So many flowers?”
“They’re all roses.”
“Is he going to propose?”
…
Bai Qinglin stood in the crowd, a cold observer. Since he could remember, he had habitually and strictly constrained his every word and action. By speaking less, he would not say the wrong thing. By not caring about anyone, he would not be influenced by anyone. To put it nicely, it was self-restraint and propriety, a gentleman being prudent when alone. To put it bluntly, it was nothing more than having a withdrawn and selfish nature, aloof and cold.
It was just that at this moment, he could not remain an outsider.
A storm was brewing on the sea, and the storm was caused by him.
Bai Qinglin saw that Zhu Jingru still had that scarf wrapped around his neck. He walked towards him step by step. Countless flowers in the truck’s compartment were stirred by the wind. There were the common red, champagne, and pink ones, and even blue and black ones… The most beautiful and vibrant roses in the flower market were all here.
The petals danced in the wind, their fragrance wanton. The colors were splendid to the extreme, like a splashed painting filled with a restless, stirring desire, a passion that was amorous to the extreme.
These flowers, symbolizing love and beauty, were delivered to Bai Qinglin by a man who was romantic to the point of being unrestrained.
“I said I would give them to you. I was serious.”
