Chapter 112

When they left the music festival venue, the snow had stopped, although the sky still had a tinge of gray, it was noticeably brighter.

Jiang Ji turned off the lights and sound system. In the faint morning light, the stage returned to silence.

The two of them walked out from the entrance they came in earlier. Watching Jiang Ji take out the remote key to close the sliding door, Qin Qingzhuo finally asked the question that had been on his mind, “Did you borrow this venue from Duan Chong?”

“Yeah, I’ll have to return the key to him later,” Jiang Ji locked the door, put the key back in his pocket, then held Qin Qingzhuo’s hand and walked together towards the parking area, “But Brother Duan Chong said it’s cold recently, and there are no more music festivals before the New Year. We can also give the venue to Sister Qi during the finals.”

Arriving at the car, the two of them opened the doors and sat inside.

“Brother Duan Chong, Brother Qi…” Qin Qingzhuo fastened his seatbelt, “How come you’ve never called me Brother?”

“You just cried like that earlier,” Jiang Ji glanced at him, “And you still want me to call you Brother?”

Normally, Qin Qingzhuo would definitely tease Jiang Ji about this, but even though his emotions had completely recovered by now, the nasal tone from crying hadn’t completely disappeared, making him feel a bit lacking in confidence.

“You never called me that before either…”

He reached out to grab a pack of wet wipes from under the center console, intending to wipe away the tears on his face, but Jiang Ji took the wet wipes from his hand.

“Let me do it,” Jiang Ji took out a wet wipe, turned sideways, and used his fingers to lift Qin Qingzhuo’s chin, “Turn a bit this way.”

Qin Qingzhuo turned towards him.

“Close your eyes,” Jiang Ji instructed.

Qin Qingzhuo closed his eyes. He felt the slightly cool wet wipe glide over his eyes, then across his nose, cheeks, and forehead. Jiang Ji’s movements were gentle, like taking care of a child, wiping his entire face.

“Was I ugly when I cried just now?” he asked with his eyes closed.

Jiang Ji didn’t say anything, just chuckled lightly, making a faint “hm” sound from his nose.

Qin Qingzhuo took his chuckle as a default, opened his eyes and looked at him. “Was it really that ugly?”

He felt like he hadn’t cried like this since he could remember, it was really embarrassing and he looked terrible.

“Why do I always want you to cry when you cry ugly,” Jiang Ji said.

Throwing the used tissue into the small trash can inside the car, he took out a new one and continued wiping Qin Qingzhuo’s face.

“When did you always want me to cry…” Qin Qingzhuo paused before completing his sentence.

He saw the ambiguous expression in Jiang Ji’s eyes, and suddenly realized what he meant—Jiang Ji wouldn’t normally want him to cry, only when he was doing something would he try to make him cry uncontrollably.

Actually, they had joked like this before, but perhaps because of the recent argument and lack of physical contact in the past few days, the atmosphere in the car became somewhat subtle when this was said.

But Jiang Ji quickly changed his expression, leaned back in his seat, wiped his fingers with the tissue that had wiped away Qin Qingzhuo’s tears, then fastened his seatbelt and started the car. “Let’s go, I’ll take you back.”

Qin Qingzhuo caught a hint from his wording. “What about you?”

“I’m going back to the rehearsal room,” Jiang Ji said casually.

Qin Qingzhuo knew Jiang Ji was still bothered by what he said a few days ago—he himself felt guilty too, perhaps because no one dared to talk about this matter in front of him for these years, so he was stimulated to blurt out those hurtful words that day.

“Aren’t you going back with me…” he said softly, his tone also revealing his guilt.

“Why would I go back,” Jiang Ji drove forward, staring straight ahead, “that’s not my home.”

“That is your home,” Qin Qingzhuo knew he had spoken wrong that day, and his apology was sincere, “Jiang Ji, I really don’t regret letting you record the fingerprint, I swear.”

He realized he didn’t have much experience in comforting people, but when he said this, Jiang Ji obviously wasn’t moved at all.

So he really made a vow: “If I ever have such thoughts, then my condition will never be cured, and it will only worsen, worsen until I completely lose my hearing, and can never do music again…”

He looked at Jiang Ji, the more expressionless Jiang Ji was, the more serious his vow became, in order to prove his sincerity.

Until Jiang Ji couldn’t bear to listen and interrupted him, “What are you saying, Qin Qingzhuo, are you a child making such poisonous oaths?”

Although Qin Qingzhuo tried various approaches, Jiang Ji remained unmoved. “Swearing is ineffective; we materialists don’t believe in such things.”

Seeing this tactic didn’t work, Qin Qingzhuo changed his approach and softened his tone. “Just come back with me, okay? Don’t be angry anymore, please?”

“No.”

“Then how can I make you not angry?” Qin Qingzhuo started seeking his opinion. “You tell me, I’ll definitely do it.”

“Words spoken are like water poured out, no matter what you do, it’s useless.”

With no more tricks up his sleeve, Qin Qingzhuo found himself at a disadvantage. Jiang Ji was driving, and he couldn’t reach over to do anything, completely losing his home field advantage.

Apologies were useless, vows were useless, sincerity was useless, even pouring his heart out was useless.

Jiang Ji demonstrated an unyielding attitude, refusing to budge.

So it turned into a stalemate—

“Let’s go back.”

“No.”

“We must go back.”

“I won’t go back.”

“You have to come back with me.”

“I won’t go back with you.”

…

It had turned into a rather foolish verbal sparring match, yet both of them seemed to enjoy it, continuing for several rounds.

Qin Qingzhuo could actually sense that Jiang Ji wasn’t angry anymore, or perhaps he had stopped being angry a long time ago—maybe he was just playing hard to get, wanting Qin Qingzhuo to coax him, and Qin Qingzhuo was willing to do so, but at this moment, driving, he couldn’t really display it.

After a while of bantering, Qin Qingzhuo started feeling sleepy, yawning after saying, “Let’s go back.”

Jiang Ji glanced at him with some amusement. “Is this how you apologize? Do you have any sincerity at all?”

“I’ve been insomnia for three nights,” Qin Qingzhuo raised his hand to stifle another yawn, “I haven’t slept a wink since that dream.”

Seeing that he was really tired, Jiang Ji’s tone softened a bit. “Then you should sleep, we still have quite a long way to go.”

“Let’s call a driver,” Qin Qingzhuo remembered that Jiang Ji had been recording songs until late these past few nights and probably hadn’t rested much. “We’ll both sleep in the back.”

“I’m not tired,” Jiang Ji said while driving. “You sleep if you want.”

“How can you not be tired?” Qin Qingzhuo worried that he was pushing himself too hard, took out his phone, “Let’s find a place to park, I’ll call a reliable driver to come.”

“I said we don’t need it,” Jiang Ji, one hand on the steering wheel, reached over and took his phone, placing it on the center console, “I just want to stay with you in the car, I don’t want anyone else to come in.”

Qin Qingzhuo didn’t say anything for a moment, nor did he reach out to take his phone back.

Jiang Ji’s reason was irrefutable.

He had to admit that he hadn’t managed to coax Jiang Ji, but Jiang Ji had managed to leave him speechless.

“Besides,” Jiang Ji glanced at him, “do you really think I lack energy in your eyes?”

Qin Qingzhuo: “…”

“Go to sleep,” Jiang Ji urged again.

Qin Qingzhuo muttered an “Mm-hmm” and fumbled to adjust the seat back a bit lower.

The car drove smoothly, and Qin Qingzhuo turned his head to look at Jiang Ji, who was focused on driving, and unexpectedly felt a sense of regaining what was once lost.

At the same time, there was a feeling of relief—relieved that he hadn’t lost Jiang Ji, relieved that they were still together.

It seemed like he had never liked anyone so much before. This thought crossed his mind.

A strong, almost overflowing sense of liking.

When lost, there was a sense of insecurity, but when together, there was a sense of regained stability.

When did this liking develop to such an extent? Even he couldn’t say.

He had never imagined that he would feel this kind of “liking” for a boy nearly ten years younger than him.

What did he like about Jiang Ji…? Half asleep, he pondered this question.

It seemed that from the beginning, what he liked most was the “wildness” in Jiang Ji. It was something beyond his control, unpredictable, and even tinged with a bit of danger. It set Jiang Ji apart from everyone else he had met before and had a fatal attraction to him, especially for someone like himself who always sought stability.

Fate was quite miraculous, Qin Qingzhuo thought. When Jiang Ji first rode him back on his motorcycle, he couldn’t have imagined that they would have such close encounters, nor did he expect that after that twenty-minute journey, they would continue to walk a longer path together.

Various thoughts floated in his mind, and as drowsiness grew stronger, Qin Qingzhuo closed his eyes and slipped into sleep in a relaxed and serene state.

He slept deeply, and when he was awakened, Qin Qingzhuo almost forgot that he was still in the car.

He heard Jiang Ji softly calling his name, opened his eyes, and looked sleepily at Jiang Ji in the driver’s seat. “Are we there?”

“Not yet,” Jiang Ji stopped the car on the side of the road, tilting his chin forward, “Look over there.”

Only then did Qin Qingzhuo realize that Jiang Ji had parked the car somewhere on the roadside. Following his gaze, Qin Qingzhuo looked into the distance.

—At the end of the field of vision, a reddish-orange light spread from the horizon, as if igniting a large fireworks display in the hazy sky.

Just when his brain, still heavy with sleepiness, became clear, Qin Qingzhuo’s voice was slightly hoarse, “Is it sunrise?”

“Mmh,” Jiang Ji parked the car and reached over, clasping his fingers, “It should be rising soon.”

Qin Qingzhuo adjusted the seat back higher and sat up straighter. Although he had seen sunrises elsewhere before, at this moment, he felt a strong sense of anticipation in his heart.

For a while, neither of them spoke, just quietly watching the horizon not far away.

The sky around the horizon changed colors rapidly, transitioning from orange-red to pink-purple, and then to a vast, increasingly bright golden hue.

In the moment when the red sun leaped out of the skyline, its radiance spread between heaven and earth, presenting a very pure blue sky.

Watching the sun rise above the clouds, Jiang Ji finally spoke, “Is it beautiful?”

“Mmh,” Qin Qingzhuo looked into the distance, somewhat absentmindedly murmuring softly, “It’s breathtakingly beautiful.”

“I hesitated a bit whether to wake you up when I saw you sleeping so soundly just now,” Jiang Ji said.

“So, how did you decide later?” Qin Qingzhuo asked following his words.

“Because I thought you would feel better after seeing the sunrise,” Jiang Ji turned his face to look at him, “And also, I suddenly really wanted to kiss you.”

Qin Qingzhuo also turned to look at Jiang Ji, their eyes met, and he could feel his heart beating strongly.

They leaned in to kiss each other, sharing a kiss that lasted for more than ten seconds at this moment of sunrise.

In the cramped car, the slight sucking sounds seemed particularly clear.

The slightly dry lips were soon moistened by saliva, leaving behind delicate threads when they parted.

By the time the car resumed its journey, Qin Qingzhuo’s drowsiness had completely faded away.

As he looked at the sky, now fully brightened in the distance, he suddenly thought that when he used to feel down, he would often take a drive along this road. He had seen many sunsets but had never thought of making a special trip to see a sunrise.

With this thought in mind, he shared it with Jiang Ji.

“Maybe it’s because, subconsciously, you used to be like me, always hoping for the day to end quickly,” Jiang Ji remarked after hearing him out.

Qin Qingzhuo pondered for a moment and felt that Jiang Ji made sense.

Suddenly, the phrase he had said to Jiang Ji, “The bad weather is about to end,” popped into his mind. He felt like his mood had become brighter in the instant of the sunrise, so much so that he leaned back against the seat and softly hummed the lines, “fall into my dream.”

Jiang Ji glanced sideways at Qin Qingzhuo in the passenger seat and gently curled his lips.