CHAPTER 4: TATTOO

That night, the tour bus drove through the night and finally arrived in Lijiang.
By then, many people had already put on their eye masks and fallen asleep.
Only Ruan Zhizhi and a few other young travelers were still wide awake, chatting animatedly in small groups.

The tour guide was full of energy as well, standing beside the driver and giving everyone a bit of mental prep:

“I know many of you who’ve never been to Lijiang probably have all kinds of beautiful expectations about this place.
But you know what they say—the higher the hope, the bigger the disappointment.
So I suggest everyone calm down and lower your expectations a little, or else don’t come crying to me later if you feel let down when we get to the Old Town.”

He paused for a beat, then added with a knowing smile:

“But… when it comes to romance, our single young ladies and gentlemen should definitely check out the bar street in the Old Town.
Who knows? You might just run into a handsome guy or a gorgeous girl.”

Laughter rippled through the bus at his words.
Only Ruan Zhizhi rested her cheek against her palm, gazing silently at the dark night outside the window.

Right about now… it should be around six or seven in the morning where Li Sichen was.
She wondered if he had woken up yet.

…But why should she care?

Even if he was about to return to A City, even if they were going to be in the same place again… it had nothing to do with her anymore.

Three years ago, they’d seen each other almost every single day.
She’d gone with Li Sichen to the library, helped him with club work, picked out suits and ties for his speeches.
When he was hungry, she cooked and brought him homemade lunchboxes.
When he was upset, she stayed up all night, drinking and talking with him until dawn.

All through their four years of university, Ruan Zhizhi’s eyes and heart had never held any man but him.

Gu Nian always said she was under a spell, bewitched, as if Li Sichen had cast some kind of charm on her.
“Why does it feel like, in your eyes, there’s only him in the whole damn world?” Gu Nian would complain.

But after pouring her entire youth, her entire heart, into him…
What did she get in return?

Just one sentence:
“Zhizhi, isn’t it better if we just stay friends like this?”

And Li Sichen’s endless carousel of new girlfriends, one after another.

Maybe it was because she was now over a thousand kilometers away from home in Yunnan…
Or maybe because she was surrounded by a bus full of strangers she didn’t need to hide her feelings from.
But leaning back against the hard seat of the bus, Ruan Zhizhi finally allowed herself a rare moment of self-pity.

She shut her eyes, forcing back the tears stinging at the corners.
God, she was pathetic.

Three-legged frogs might be rare, but two-legged men were everywhere.
So why had she wasted three whole years, trapping herself in this half-alive, half-dead state?

An hour later, the tour bus finally pulled into the tourist parking lot beside Lijiang Old Town.
Taking a deep breath, Ruan Zhizhi steadied her emotions, stood up, stretched lazily, and followed the rest of the group off the bus.

The inn the tour guide arranged for them was located inside the old town — a quaint little place with flowing water and arched stone bridges, full of traditional charm.

The innkeeper’s wife wore a knitted long dress, with a wide silk shawl draped loosely over her shoulders, its ends cascading all the way to her waist. As she walked, the delicate tassel earrings on her ears swayed lightly, carrying a distinct local flair.

The tour guide stood at the front desk, helping them check in. Ruan Zhizhi had nothing to do, so she stood off to the side, spacing out idly.

Just as her thoughts were drifting far away, she suddenly heard a long, soft meow. The sound wasn’t loud — gentle and lilting, almost like the cat was acting spoiled.

She followed the sound with her eyes and discovered Shi Yan squatting beside a fake rockery outside the inn, teasing a pure white cat.

His fingers were deft and skilled, and the little cat looked completely comfortable in his hands, mewing softly while trying to nuzzle its way into his arms.

Perhaps the scene between man and cat was too harmonious, but Ruan Zhizhi found herself staring without meaning to, her gaze too focused to hide.

Shi Yan teased the cat for a while, and finally, as if lowering himself to indulge it, reached out and scooped it into his arms. One hand looped under its front paws to hold it up, while the other scratched gently under its fluffy chin. The cat squinted its eyes contentedly, behaving perfectly in his embrace.

Since it was already late, there were no other scheduled activities for the evening. After getting her room key from the tour guide, Ruan Zhizhi had planned to go back, take a shower, and sleep.

But halfway there, Chen Jiayan intercepted her, insisting she join them for a walk along the bar street. The group included Shi Yan and the few girls they’d eaten lunch with earlier.

She hesitated for a moment. Deep down, she wanted to go back and rest… but for some reason, when her peripheral vision caught sight of Shi Yan still playing with the cat in his arms, she inexplicably nodded and said yes.

….

Night had fallen, the lights were soft and blurred, and the bar street of Lijiang Old Town stretched between the bustling Sifang Street on one end and the iconic waterwheel at the entrance on the other — the liveliest part of the entire town.

Following Chen Jiayan and the others down the bluestone-paved street, Ruan Zhizhi passed by wandering street performers, their music drifting through the night air.

As she walked past, a long-haired young man hugged his guitar, singing with a raspy voice as though gravel had been ground into his throat:

“Maybe one day, when I’m old and unwanted,
Please leave me there, in that time…
If one day I slip away quietly,
Please bury me here, in this spring…”

His voice wasn’t particularly good, and his singing lacked skill, but somehow, it struck straight at the heart.

Ruan Zhizhi paused at the side of the street, watching him for a long time. Suddenly, she remembered a friend who had once come to Lijiang telling her:

“The moment I stepped off the plane, I knew… if I ever grow old, I want to be buried here.”

On bar street, big and small pubs lined both sides, too many to count. Among them, the most famous — and the one rumored to have the highest chance of romantic encounters — was Yimi Sunshine.

When Ruan Zhizhi followed Chen Jiayan and the others inside, she was startled by the sheer density of people.

The bar itself wasn’t particularly large, but its interior design and sound system more than made up for it. The moment she stepped through the door, the deafening music made her instinctively cover her ears; she could hear the bass pounding from a block away.

Their group went inside, and perhaps considering there were more girls among them, Chen Jiayan and Shi Yan led the way, turning down a hallway until they reached a relatively quieter area, settling onto a long sofa.

Chen Jiayan was clearly excited, and within moments, he got up to order drinks at the bar.

Ruan Zhizhi looked around. This section felt more like a lounge than a nightclub — no blaring DJ tracks, no flashing lights, no crowded dance floor. Just the soft glow of amber lights and a young man onstage, strumming a guitar and singing in a low, gentle voice.

The girls sitting next to her were chatting excitedly, whispering about whether they might bump into any handsome guys tonight.

Bored, Ruan Zhizhi lifted her gaze — and her eyes met Shi Yan’s, seated diagonally across from her.

He looked completely relaxed. Under the dim lights, his sharp, frost-edged features softened subtly, his long lashes casting faint shadows. From the corners of his eyes inward, there was a quiet warmth, making his dark, obsidian-like eyes even deeper and brighter.

He was like a Venus out of Greek mythology — blessed not just with beauty, but with the power to bewitch and ensnare hearts, like Helen of Troy.

….

The girls beside her clearly couldn’t hold back any longer. The failed attempt at striking up a conversation with Shi Yan during lunch hadn’t dampened their spirits at all — if anything, it only made them bolder.

“Shi Yan,” one of them finally spoke up — the prettiest one, of course. Ruan Zhizhi already knew her name from Chen Jiayan: Yan Rui, the daughter of one of the top psychology professors at the university, same as Shi Yan.

Rumor had it Yan Rui’s father had long wanted to introduce his only daughter to Shi Yan.

Yan Rui tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her voice deliberately sweet:
“I heard from my dad that in your second year as a professor, you once took a six-month leave of absence. I’ve always been curious… what did you do during that time?”

Another girl immediately chimed in, catching on to the topic:
“Yeah, exactly! Don’t tell us you were off spending time with your girlfriend?”

Shi Yan leaned lazily back against the sofa, reaching for a cigarette with practiced ease. Smoke curled upward, blurring his features, leaving only those cold, shadowed eyes visible, unreadable and distant.

He raised an eyebrow slightly, his voice flat and careless:
“Went to get treatment.”

“Treatment?” Yan Rui’s voice shot up several pitches, shocked.
“You’re joking, right? You look perfectly fine — what kind of treatment?”

The girls exchanged puzzled looks, their expressions shifting. Even Ruan Zhizhi, against her better judgment, couldn’t stop her mind from spinning.

Could it be… those rumors were true?
Was Shi Yan staying single all this time because of… some hidden health issue?

Shi Yan took in their subtly twisted expressions, seemingly amused, and the corner of his lips curled upward.

And when he smiled, his entire face lit up — the oppressive, cold aloofness melted away in an instant, replaced by a striking, vivid brilliance, like flames dancing in the light.

That smile stunned all the girls into silence; for a moment, no one remembered to breathe.

Then, Shi Yan slowly exhaled a ring of smoke, his voice low and indifferent:

“Mood disorder.
Commonly known as depression.”

“Depression?”

Ruan Zhizhi tilted her head in utter disbelief. How could someone like Shi Yan—financially well-off, with a face so striking it seemed almost unfair, and a professor at one of the top universities in the country, teaching the most popular department—have depression?

Anyone who believed it had to be a fool.

Apparently, the girls around her were thinking the same thing. But before Yan Rui could ask a follow-up question, Chen Jiayan returned, followed by a waiter carrying a whole case of beer.

Judging by the scene, it was obvious: they weren’t planning on leaving sober.

Chen Jiayan walked over, sat down next to Shi Yan, and had the waiter place the entire case on the table. The girls’ expressions immediately fell.

Seeing their reactions, Chen Jiayan quickly reassured them:
“Don’t worry, don’t worry. This beer isn’t for you little girls. Shi Yan can easily finish it all by himself.” He tapped Shi Yan’s arm with exaggerated seriousness. “I’m not joking. I’ve hung out with him long enough — I’ve never seen him drunk once.”

Because the bar was warm, Ruan Zhizhi looked up and noticed Shi Yan rolling up the sleeve of his black sweater. That small, casual motion revealed a tattoo on his left arm.

Not a design… just a string of characters.

Ruan Zhizhi’s minor in college had been French, so she immediately recognized them as French words.

l’amour est patience.

In Chinese, it translates to the famous line from the Bible: “Love is patient.”

The original quote is from the New Testament. Ruan Zhizhi had even copied the last line once:

“It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Shi Yan… actually read the Bible?

Her intuition told her a man like him shouldn’t have any faith; he should only believe in himself.

But much later, she would realize: this man didn’t even believe in himself — only in her.