Chapter 35

The light drizzle that was present when they arrived has completely stopped, and the slightly humid air feels comfortable to breathe.

Recording finished early today, and they didn’t catch the rush hour traffic when leaving. Although the road had few cars, Jiang Ji’s driving speed was noticeably slower than usual.

Compared to the previous residence, Qin Qingzhuo’s new address is much closer to the recording studio. Even though Jiang Ji intentionally slowed down, they still reached their destination in about twenty minutes.

Qin Qingzhuo stepped out of the car and handed the guitar on his back to Jiang Ji. “Heard you chose Urban Collapse as your opponent?”

Jiang Ji took the guitar. “Yes.”

“Are you determined to choose Urban Collapse?” Qin Qingzhuo asked again.

Looking at Qin Qingzhuo, Jiang Ji recalled the conversation between Qin Qingzhuo and Shi Yao earlier — was he planning to persuade him not to choose Urban Collapse?

He then thought of the conversation with the members of Urban Collapse in the afternoon, and a sense of annoyance began to surge within him. In the past, no matter who tried to persuade him, he would disdainfully ignore it. However, facing Qin Qingzhuo now, he began to hesitate.

After a moment of silence, he countered, “What’s wrong? Do you have any objections to this?”

Thinking that Qin Qingzhuo would continue with his persuasion, Jiang Ji was surprised when he only said, “Urban Collapse might not be easy to deal with…”

After a brief pause, Qin Qingzhuo added, “Originally, the program team asked me to advise you, but I’m not good at playing peacemaker. Since you’ve decided to go for it, make it splendid. Did you bring the scores you’ll be performing later? Let me take a look.”

Jiang Ji was somewhat surprised at first and didn’t move. After a while, he slowly took out the scores from the guitar case and handed them to Qin Qingzhuo.

Taking them, Qin Qingzhuo flipped through the scores. There were three songs written on the three sheets, each with many traces of modification. Associating this with the fact that whenever he went to Honglu Slope Street these days, it seemed like they weren’t practicing the same song, he became more certain that Asperatus’ rehearsals were not going smoothly.

“These three,” Qin Qingzhuo looked at the sheets and asked, “which one is your final choice for the performance?”

“The one at the top. That’s the demo we submitted to the program team. However…” Jiang Ji didn’t continue.

“Not satisfied?” Qin Qingzhuo picked up where Jiang Ji left off, looking at him. “Indeed, no matter how dynamic the music is, the creative process always requires tranquility. Songs composed when the mind is not calm tend to be unsatisfactory.”

Jiang Ji fell into silence again. Qin Qingzhuo hit the nail on the head. Usually, he was sensitive to music, knowing at a glance what kind of performance effect each song could achieve. However, this time, he was well aware that his state was off — thoughts of Jiang Keyuan occasionally intruded on his thoughts, disrupting his focus on composing.

“Will you be singing at the bar later?” Qin Qingzhuo asked again.

“Yes.”

“Do you mind if I take these three sheets of music back to make copies, see if there’s anything I can help with?”

After a few seconds of silence, Jiang Ji spoke, “If you’re willing.”

Qin Qingzhuo smiled, holding the sheets of music in his hand. “Rare for you not to resist accepting my goodwill. I have to carefully study being a teacher this time; I can’t afford to lose face. Should we go inside and wait?”

Jiang Ji got off the car, parked the motorcycle, and followed behind Qin Qingzhuo toward his villa.

In the short distance they walked, Jiang Ji intentionally lagged a step behind, observing Qin Qingzhuo’s back.

Though not particularly curious by nature, there was an undeniable hint of curiosity arising within him at this moment.

Qin Qingzhuo didn’t know the reason behind his fight with Urban Collapse. He easily ignored the instructions from the program’s chief director, Shi Yao, not only refraining from interfering with his choice of Urban Collapse as an opponent but also offering to help him with the scores.

The inexplicable thought from the afternoon re-emerged — was he always this good to all musicians?

With this thought in mind, Jiang Ji asked, “Aren’t you curious about why I got into a fight?”

“If you don’t want to say, why should I ask?” Qin Qingzhuo walked up the steps in front of the villa, brushed his fingerprint, and the lock made a “beep” recognition sound. He said, “Besides, what reason does a nineteen-year-old need for a fight?”

“Especially a nineteen-year-old band vocalist getting into a fight,” holding the doorknob, Qin Qingzhuo turned his face to glance at Jiang Ji, smiling. “Even less need for a reason.”

“You’ve never been in a fight before?”

“Me?” Qin Qingzhuo seemed to be in a brief contemplation but soon shook his head with a smile. “No, I’ve always been quite well-behaved.”

Jiang Ji looked at him without a change in expression. When Qin Qingzhuo opened the door just now, he stood behind Qin Qingzhuo and confirmed once again the fact that he had ear piercings — three on the left ear bone and two on the right.

With just these unconventional piercings, he had reason not to believe Qin Qingzhuo’s claim of always being “quite well-behaved.”

The door opened, and Jiang Ji followed Qin Qingzhuo into the house.

Qin Qingzhuo’s new home had a completely different layout and decoration style compared to the previous one.

Jiang Ji had been to the previous residence, but at that time, he only stood at the doorway and didn’t look inside carefully. He vaguely remembered that it was dominated by gray tones and looked quite minimalist.

However, this house… at first glance, it was filled with fluffiness.

Fluffy floor mats, fluffy carpets, fluffy sofa covers, and fluffy sofa cushions…

“Take a seat for a moment,” Qin Qingzhuo walked towards the workspace, “I’ll make the copies.”

Jiang Ji didn’t sit but followed him. The workspace had a floor covered with a whole piece of beige long-pile carpet, and scattered on it were a few discs and music scores. Leaning against the door frame, Jiang Ji asked, “Do you like fluffy things?”

For a moment, a barely noticeable awkward expression flashed across Qin Qingzhuo’s face. “Not really… just think the texture is good.”

Jiang Ji chuckled.

This low laughter carried an unclear meaning, and Qin Qingzhuo interpreted it as mockery. He got a bit defensive, making a hissing sound, “What’s wrong with liking it, is it not allowed?”

“Not saying it’s not allowed,” Jiang Ji said, “It’s much better than the previous style.”

Qin Qingzhuo, opening the cover of the copier, inserted the music scores. “What was the previous style?”

“A tasteless scumbag style.”

This was an insult aimed at Ji Chi, Qin Qingzhuo smiled and didn’t respond further.

The copier made a slight operational sound, and after a while, a message about lack of paper sounded.

While Qin Qingzhuo was opening the machine to load the paper, Jiang Ji observed his workspace — in this space of around 20 to 30 square meters, there was a variety of musical instruments, with over ten guitars alone, including some relatively expensive bass guitars.

By the window, there was a piano, its glazed lacquer surface gleaming with a textured gloss under the sunset. On the other side, in the corner against the wall, there was a complete set of drum kit, with a cello standing next to it.

“Do you play the cello?” Jiang Ji asked.

“My major in college was the cello,” Qin Qingzhuo put the printing paper in place and closed the copier. The copier ran smoothly this time, quickly spitting out the copied music scores.

“So why did you get into pop music?”

“Just like it, why does there have to be so many reasons.” Qin Qingzhuo took out the copied music scores, walked over, and handed the original manuscripts to Jiang Ji. “Besides, pop and classical music aren’t mutually exclusive. It’s interesting to blend them together.”

Jiang Ji took the music scores. “Can you play a bit for me?”

“Do you want to hear?” Qin Qingzhuo looked at him somewhat unexpectedly but soon nodded. “Sure.”

Turning around, he went to get the cello, sat on the high stool nearby, and looked at Jiang Ji. “Any specific piece you want to hear?”

“Anything, play what you like.”

Qin Qingzhuo lowered his head in contemplation, and after a moment, he made a decision. His left hand fingers pressed the strings, and his right hand slowly drew the bow, creating the low, melodious sound of the cello — it was the piece Jiang Ji improvised in the second competition, “The Empty Easy-Open Can on the Street Corner.”

Qin Qingzhuo wasn’t just replicating Jiang Ji’s piece; Jiang Ji could tell that he added many details to the composition. It was as if he brushed a deep and melancholic undertone onto the originally somewhat thin melody.

Qin Qingzhuo slightly lowered his head, the hair in front of his forehead gently swaying with the movements of playing the cello. The westward slanting sunlight cast a light veil-like glow over him, making him appear bathed in a faint light.

It felt like a dream. Jiang Ji’s mind flashed with this thought.

But Qin Qingzhuo stopped playing after a short while, put away the bow, and looked at Jiang Ji, asking, “How was it, can it do?”

Jiang Ji didn’t speak, just looked at him, his gaze different from usual, a bit deeper.

Feeling a bit uneasy being stared at like this, Qin Qingzhuo turned around to put the cello back in the corner.

However, as he was about to stand the cello up, Jiang Ji spoke from behind him, his voice slightly deep, “Very beautiful.”

Qin Qingzhuo paused for a moment, a slight surprise in his eyes.

Then he turned around and smiled, “Your composition itself is very beautiful, and it complements the cello’s tone very well.”

After staring at Qin Qingzhuo for a while, Jiang Ji moved his gaze away and looked at the unfinished score on the piano on the other side. “Do you usually compose using the piano?”

“Sometimes I use the piano, sometimes the guitar,” Qin Qingzhuo walked to the piano, opened the keyboard cover, and turned to Jiang Ji, “Actually, different instruments bring different inspirations. Do you want to try playing it? “

He said this with a slightly curved eyes, a smile on his face. However, unexpectedly, Jiang Ji, who had been looking at him, now avoided eye contact for a moment.

“My hands are too rough, better not.”

“Come on, you can play the guitar so well, it shows that your finger dexterity is pretty good,” Qin Qingzhuo invited, “Let’s start with this Easy-Open can piece, it’s very simple, I’ll teach you.”

“No, I have to go back to the bar to sing,” Jiang Ji stood up straight, preparing to leave.

“Well then,” seeing his insistence, Qin Qingzhuo also had to stand up, feeling a bit regretful, “Maybe next time.”

Seeing Jiang Ji off at the door, Qin Qingzhuo leaned lazily against the door frame, watching him put on his helmet and straddle the motorcycle.

The westward slanting sun was a bit dazzling. He raised one hand to shield his eyes, and waved goodbye to Jiang Ji with the other hand.

Just like before, Jiang Ji didn’t say a word of farewell, just glanced at him, then rode the motorcycle and left in a cloud of dust.

Qin Qingzhuo shook his head with a bit of helplessness, smiled, and went back into the house.

Although he was ten years older than Jiang Ji, sometimes he couldn’t understand what this young man was thinking. He originally thought that when Jiang Ji talked about these musical instruments with him, he was interested in them, after all, no musician could resist the charm of various instruments.

But unexpectedly, when he suggested teaching him to play the piano, he refused so decisively.

And the previous time, even though he suggested buying that photo to help solve Jiang Ji’s debt problem, Jiang Ji seemed to have been angered…

Are young people of this age so unpredictable? Qin Qingzhuo recalled his own nineteen, thinking that maybe it was indeed the case.

He took the freshly copied music scores, took down a guitar from the wall, tuned it, and then played the melody according to Jiang Ji’s score.

More cars appeared on the road, Jiang Ji turned into a narrow bumpy alley.

Although he could play the piano, when Qin Qingzhuo suggested teaching him to play, he subconsciously rejected Qin Qingzhuo’s kindness.

Jiang Ji couldn’t explain why this situation seemed to have happened before — every time Qin Qingzhuo showed kindness to him, he not only didn’t want to accept it but also felt a sense of rejection.

For example, the previous time, although he initially threatened Qin Qingzhuo with the photo just for money, when Qin Qingzhuo voluntarily suggested buying the photo at a high price to help solve his debt problem, his irritation suddenly surged, and he even couldn’t help but lash out at Qin Qingzhuo.

Is it because Qin Qingzhuo’s kindness makes him feel hypocritical and annoyed? It doesn’t seem like it, Jiang Ji thought. Qin Qingzhuo is not unlikeable; he’s always gentle and courteous, with sincerity hidden in his goodwill, making it hard to find fault, and sometimes, he even feels an urge to get closer to Qin Qingzhuo.

Is it because of his pride? It doesn’t seem like it either. Ever since Jiang Keyuan abandoned his family and left behind a mess, Jiang Ji has seen plenty of pity-laden goodwill glances, though he doesn’t like them, it’s not to the point of rejection — he’s long felt indifferent, numb even, towards those pity and goodwill gestures.

Yeah, he should be numb, so why does he feel repelled by the kindness Qin Qingzhuo extends… The wind whistled through his helmet, emitting a dull roar, and Jiang Ji felt almost bewildered.

He thought of Qin Qingzhuo’s eyes, filled with a smiling expression, and suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind.

In that instant, Jiang Ji almost stunned himself with the clarity of the answer to his question —

It’s not Qin Qingzhuo making him feel hypocritical, nor is it his own pride at play; it’s because… Qin Qingzhuo’s goodwill is too dazzling, glaring even, shining a light so bright that it exposes all of his dark and despicable deeds, making him instinctively recoil from being illuminated.

After all, when someone has been in the dark for so long, suddenly encountering such intense brightness can be blinding to the eyes.

A voice echoed in his mind, Jiang Ji, oh Jiang Ji, how ridiculous you are. After all these years, resorting to any means for money, despicable to the point of being unscrupulous, yet a bit of silent goodwill scares you into backing off, do you still want to turn over a new leaf?

Emerging from the alley, the Lu River lay ahead. It was here that Jiang Keyuan committed suicide by jumping into the river.

After Jiang Keyuan’s death, Jiang Ji had once avoided passing through here, always taking detours, his instinct to seek advantage and avoid harm making him shun everything related to Jiang Keyuan.

But just now, lost in thought, he somehow ended up here again.

At this moment, there was a crowd gathered by the Lu River, all looking up with eager smiles on their faces.

Following the crowd’s gaze, Jiang Ji looked up instinctively, subconsciously squeezing the brake and slowing down —

After the light rain in the afternoon, the sun came out, and now, a rainbow hung in the sky.

Once again, he thought of Qin Qingzhuo.

Perhaps, to Jiang Ji, Qin Qingzhuo is like that rainbow after the rain, hanging high in the sky.

Colorful and enticing, even someone like himself, a villain, could have the opportunity to look up and admire it.

But in the end, the rainbow is just an illusion.

And illusions… will eventually disappear.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to accept Qin Qingzhuo’s kindness; it’s actually because he dares not accept it. He’s afraid that Qin Qingzhuo will show him even more kindness, to the point where he might become somewhat addicted, even greedy, wanting to extract more from Qin Qingzhuo.

There’s a high probability he’ll lose this competition. After it’s over, this interaction with Qin Qingzhuo should come to an end as well. After all, they were never meant to be part of the same world.

Instead of indulging in it, he’d better force himself to wake up.

Life must go on, and holding onto meaningless expectations is just the most desperate form of self-deception.

He can’t allow himself to be lost in the illusion of the rainbow. Otherwise, how can he face the muddy reality of life after the competition ends?

He must continue to live as he did before: cold, indifferent, committing evil acts, and crushing everything in his path. That’s the way someone like him should live.

As the car reached the entrance of the bar, Jiang Ji got off the motorcycle, took off his helmet, and locked the motorcycle.

Walking towards the bar, he took out his phone. At some point, he had received two text messages —

“Someone’s dead, it’s not over.”

“I want to meet you.”

Jiang Ji’s footsteps paused slightly, then he expressionlessly typed out a response on the screen: “Okay.”

Then he climbed a few steps and pushed open the door of the bar.