The next day, the weather cleared. After dawn, sunlight streamed in through the gap in the curtains. There were very few things in Zhu Jingru’s bedroom. A calendar sat on the bedside table, with every day since he met Bai Qinglin marked with a red marker pen. On the bay window stood a fortress built from thoroughly washed coffee paper cups, looking rather artistic.
Zhu Jingru’s eyes were stung by the light, and he reflexively squinted. He got out of bed and pulled open the curtains. After adjusting, he continued to look into the distance.
Across the bridge was the residential complex where Bai Qinglin lived. It was not far, a ten-minute walk… As for last night, after delivering the flowers, they went to the port. He had slept with his head pillowed on Bai Qinglin’s lap, which was strangely comfortable. After that, he had no memory.
Zhu Jingru lowered his head and saw an extinguished long cigarette lying in the trash can. He froze for a moment. It seemed he had been chewing on a cigarette before sleeping.
Because Bai Qinglin only smoked Su brand Chenxiang cigarettes, Zhu Jingru also followed suit. Love me, love my dog.
The faint, lingering aftertaste of the tobacco was pure, and its scent was reassuring.
While washing up, Zhu Jingru looked in the mirror and thoughtfully touched his face. His cheeks were slightly red, as if they had been pinched.
Since he was young, he had a habit: once he bit onto something in his sleep, he would not let go.
In the afternoon, there were not many people at the South Bank coffee shop. Transparent stickers related to Christmas had been pasted on the three-sided floor-to-ceiling windows. Li Wenxue tied up her big wavy hair, barely managing to fill in as a barista, while Yue Chuan, wearing an apron, took orders with a heart full of despair.
The pastry chef felt the resentment as soon as he entered the door. “Where’s the manager?”
Li Wenxue picked up a can of coffee beans. “He went fishing.”
Zhu Jingru arrived late at the coffee shop. Before he had a chance to ask.
Li Wenxue teased, “After such a grand display yesterday, you abducted the manager. Did you succeed?”
Zhu Jingru smiled. “My phone number has been blocked again, and my WeChat has also been deleted.”
Yue Chuan came out from the back kitchen. Seeing Zhu Jingru, he couldn’t shake off his instinct as someone who judges by looks and immediately went over. “Here, I’ll lend you my phone. Call him, call him however you want.”
“Let’s skip that.” Zhu Jingru had a good grasp of propriety. He had been pursuing too closely recently, and now it was time to let go and let the person breathe. Chasing someone is the same principle as flying a kite. High and low, not too far and not too close, is the path to constant victory.
Outsiders could not guess Zhu Jingru’s thoughts. The moment he spoke, Li Wenxue thought Zhu Jingru was giving up just like that.
“Don’t skip it! Why not try again? I’ll give you some tips,” Yue Chuan said with a mischievous face.
Zhu Jingru thoughtfully caressed the pads of his fingers. He asked Yue Chuan if they could talk in private.
When driving Yue Chuan back, Zhu Jingru asked, “What color of flowers do you like?”
“It must be champagne.”
“What about the rest of the people in the shop?”
Yue Chuan was wondering what Zhu Jingru was up to. Ten minutes later, he finally understood what it meant to be a pro.
The truck, once again, stopped grandly at the entrance of the coffee shop. A few roses were trimmed and placed in vases. The most lethal thing was the “rose tree” formed by piling up and securing a large heap of roses. Under the beautiful name of celebrating Christmas, it was wrapped with electrified colorful lights. The moment the button was pressed, the warm yellow lights and the roses complemented each other, creating a splendidly stunning scene.
It was placed at the entrance of the coffee shop, attracting a crowd of customers. Yue Chuan immediately placed a vase of roses on every table in the coffee shop. After finishing, his heart was surging with excitement as he called Bai Qinglin.
The call was hung up. Very good. He called again.
When the call connected, Bai Qinglin was fishing by the reservoir. The pads of his fingers gently caressed the fishing rod, his eyes fixed motionlessly on the water’s surface.
An older man next to him reminded, “You’ve got a bite, quick, quick, reel in the line.”
Bai Qinglin pulled unhurriedly and caught a rather heavy crucian carp.
The old man became more talkative. “Nowadays, it’s rare to see a young fellow like you who enjoys fishing.”
“It depends on the person.”
“It must depend. How can someone without patience go fishing? From baiting the hook to pulling the rod, a person has to be more patient than the fish.”
Bai Qinglin nodded as a sign of politeness. After taking off his leather gloves, he hung up Yue Chuan’s call. But the other side persistently called again. Thinking there might be an emergency at the shop.
Bai Qinglin then stood up and lowered his head to hold a thin cigarette in his mouth. The lighter clicked softly. He stood under a nearby tree to answer the call.
“Old Bai, I’ve accepted the flowers from Zhu Jingru on your behalf.”
“Return them.”
“Can’t return them, they’ve all been put in vases,” Yue Chuan said.
“…”
Bai Qinglin hung up the phone and raised his hand to rub the bridge of his nose. Clumps of ash fell. His hand gradually tightened. Five minutes later, his phone vibrated. He instinctively looked, thinking it was from Zhu Jingru.
[Yue Chuan: I discovered he’s wearing your scarf, and what’s drying on your balcony is his coat.]
Ten seconds later, Bai Qinglin also blocked Yue Chuan.
He fished quietly for two hours. There were not many people at the reservoir. He lowered his head and stared at the texture of his leather gloves, his mind gradually wandering.
At midnight, he had called to ask for Zhu Jingru’s home address, then carried the person, with a layer of clothes between them, through the snowy night, leaving the port of the shipwreck.
Bai Qinglin’s arms held him very tightly. His skin hunger slowly subsided, as if a traveler lost in the desert had found an oasis and could not stop drinking to quench his thirst.
Before leaving Zhu Jingru’s home, Bai Qinglin washed his hands on the balcony. The cold and bone-chilling water dripped onto his face, sliding down along his deep-set brow bone. His heavy breathing was too rapid.
In the next second, the sound of a heavy object falling came from Zhu Jingru’s room.
Bai Qinglin hurried over. Water had slightly dampened the collar of his shirt. The light was very bright.
Zhu Jingru had already taken off his slightly damp clothes. His pants lay casually on the floor tiles. The central heating made the room very hot. He lay on the bed, his upper body bare without any guard, completely revealing the red cord around his waist. It was thin, very soft, and intricately woven. A section of it was slightly indented in the dimple of his lower back.
Zhu Jingru, likely in a hazy state of consciousness, raised his hand. He was sleeping restlessly. He slightly opened his eyes and kept trying to light a cigarette for himself with a lighter. The lips holding the cigarette butt were slightly parted, the rosy bead of his lip trying to bite down lightly, but unfortunately, he had no strength. His hand drooped down again.
After several tries, he finally managed to light it. The tobacco instantly turned into white mist and was inhaled by the person. The sounds of breathing and swallowing were sticky. There were also many marks on the white bedsheet. His legs kicked about randomly. The person rolled himself up in the blanket and continued to sleep.
After witnessing all this, Bai Qinglin turned and left. When he went downstairs, his Adam’s apple slid. He felt that the damp heat still lingered on his fingers.
The moment it was held in his mouth, his palm seemed to have become wet as well.
