Chapter 15

On the way to Honglu Slope Street, Qin Qingzhuo lowered the windows on both sides of the car to the minimum.

His phone vibrated, and a friend sent a message: “I didn’t see any traces of editing on the photos. They should be genuine.”

The evening breeze, carrying a damp chill, flowed into the car like cold water, splashing over Qin Qingzhuo, cooling his mind like a splash of cold water.

Going to the Honglu Bar to find Jiang Ji was merely a glimmer of hope left in his heart. Although his rational mind had already made a judgment that the photos were not fabricated, emotions still screamed loudly in a corner of his brain – “What if?”

Now, this glimmer of hope was completely extinguished by the cool breeze.

Qin Qingzhuo soberly realized that, whether he wanted to accept it or not, Ji Chi’s affair had become an established fact.

The photos themselves were solid evidence, and Jiang Ji had no reason to lie to him about this. Sending the photos of Ji Chi’s affair to him didn’t benefit Jiang Ji in any way – if he wanted more money, he should have found a way to contact Ji Chi.

As for why Jiang Ji sent these photos, Qin Qingzhuo didn’t have the time or energy to speculate on his motives right now.

He began to calmly consider how to gracefully end his relationship with Ji Chi.

Both were adults, and if things didn’t work out, there was no need to make it ugly.

Of course, he didn’t plan to forgive Ji Chi either. Cheating crossed his bottom line; it was a matter of principle.

First, there was the villa. He didn’t intend to continue living there anymore; it held too many shared memories of the two of them. When ending a relationship, it’s best to end it cleanly; he wasn’t interested in reminiscing after parting ways.

Then, there was the matter of moving. He had another property in the city, where he used to live, that he could move into at any time.

That seemed to cover everything.

Qin Qingzhuo took out the business card of a real estate consultant from his contacts and sent a message, saying he wanted to sell a villa and hoped to sign the contract as soon as possible. He also made an appointment with a moving company for the day after tomorrow, as he needed at least a day to separate his belongings from Ji Chi’s and pack them up.

With these matters settled, the car arrived at Honglu Slope Street.

Qin Qingzhuo got out of the car and walked towards the alley.

It was approaching dawn, and the night was thick.

The lights of the Honglu Bar flickered, the sound of music bustling, comforting the sleepless humans.

Qin Qingzhuo pushed open the door and walked in. This time, he didn’t ask the waiter. He walked straight through the first-floor bar and went up the stairs to the second floor.

As he stepped onto the second floor, only one light was on in the spacious billiards room at the end. Jiang Ji was not there, but Jiang Bei was sitting cross-legged on a pool table, playing with her phone. Hearing footsteps, she turned her head for a glance.

“Where’s your brother?” Qin Qingzhuo asked.

“He’s not here,” Jiang Bei replied, her gaze quickly returning to her phone.

“When will he be back?”

“I don’t know.”

“If he comes back, could you tell him that I’m waiting for him on the first floor? There’s something very important I need to discuss with him.”

This time, Jiang Bei didn’t say anything, just nodded absently.

Qin Qingzhuo walked back down the stairs and wandered around the first-floor bar. It was Friday, so it was quite crowded, and there weren’t many empty seats left.

He noticed a somewhat secluded and lonely spot in the corner and walked over to sit down.

The spot was quite remote, with the dimmest light and poor visibility due to a pillar blocking the view of the stage.

However, this spot suited Qin Qingzhuo’s preferences. Sitting here, he could clearly see others, but they wouldn’t easily notice him.

Qin Qingzhuo ordered a drink and pulled his mask down to his chin. The dim lighting here meant he didn’t have to worry too much about being recognized.

His phone buzzed, and Ji Chi sent a message.

“Qingzhuo, are you asleep?”

“Just when I was about to sleep, Zhou Song called me about something. I mentioned the photos to him.”

“He said if you’re willing, he wants to talk to you.”

Looking at those messages, Qin Qingzhuo felt a bit ironic. He couldn’t tell whether Ji Chi’s concern about this photo stemmed from protecting their relationship or simply from worrying about his own career.

Did he really consider protecting this relationship?

After staring at the messages Ji Chi sent for a moment, Qin Qingzhuo found the chat record with Jiang Ji and forwarded the photos he had sent earlier to Ji Chi.

He sent the photos without saying anything, waiting for Ji Chi’s response.

At the top of the chat page, Ji Chi’s nickname changed to “Typing…”

Two minutes later, it was still “Typing…”

After another three minutes, those words were still there, unchanged.

Qin Qingzhuo closed his eyes for a long moment. Everything was clear without needing an answer. He didn’t need to wait for a response.

He picked up his phone and typed a few words on the screen: “Ji Chi, let’s end it.”

His fingertip hovered over the screen again, this time for longer than before. It was as if he had made a monumental decision before finally sending the message.

With the most difficult task completed, the following words came quickly: “I’ve already contacted the real estate agent about the house. He promised to help sell it quickly and negotiate a good price for us. He’ll contact you soon to sign the contract, and half of the proceeds will be transferred directly to your account. I’ll also move out my things soon, and I’ll have Auntie pack up your share and deliver it to your place in Xicheng.”

After sending the message, a few seconds later, Ji Chi called.

Qin Qingzhuo hung up.

He called again soon after. Qin Qingzhuo stared at the incoming call display for a moment, then turned his phone upside down on the table, letting it vibrate incessantly.

He gave Ji Chi five minutes to provide an explanation, but the repetitive “Typing…” made him realize that he no longer needed Ji Chi’s explanation.

Perhaps the sight of couples around him was too reminiscent, and the intoxicating atmosphere made it difficult to remain clear-headed. The calmness that was blown out by the evening breeze gradually faded away, and the suppressed emotions surged forth like a tidal wave, causing Qin Qingzhuo to feel several times more pain than before.

Qin Qingzhuo lifted the glass and took a gulp, the burning alcohol flowing down his throat, rich and bitter.

He vaguely remembered the charity banquet where he first met Ji Chi. Ji Chi came over to toast him, saying he really liked the ending theme song Qin Qingzhuo composed for a certain film. Ji Chi was a singer at the time, and Qin Qingzhuo knew him because they often competed neck and neck on the music charts, to the point where Ji Chi’s name was frequently mentioned by Qin Qingzhuo’s then manager.

After that night, Ji Chi started inviting Qin Qingzhuo frequently and began pursuing him. For a long time, Qin Qingzhuo didn’t actually agree to Ji Chi’s intentions. It wasn’t until Ji Chi accompanied him through a crucial moment in his life, almost becoming his spiritual support, that he decided to spend the rest of his life with Ji Chi.

Then there was the time when Ji Chi decided to transition from a singer to an actor. At the time, a TV series offered Ji Chi the lead role, and although Ji Chi passed the audition, he hesitated about whether to take the job. Qin Qingzhuo never knew Ji Chi wanted to be an actor, but since Ji Chi wanted to try it, he encouraged him to go for it.

Ji Chi was very conflicted at the time: “If I transition to acting, then we won’t be able to do music together in the future.”

“We can still live together,” Qin Qingzhuo said, trying to sound casual as he encouraged Ji Chi, “One kind of life gives birth to two different forms of artistic expression. Isn’t that quite romantic?”

At that time, Qin Qingzhuo didn’t realize that the decision they made together had already planted the seeds for the hasty end of this relationship.

Qin Qingzhuo also thought of the house they were about to sell. Four years ago, when he left the concert in embarrassment and decided to retire behind the scenes, the most desperate moment was when Ji Chi suggested they buy a house together.

They each contributed half the money and chose a villa they both liked. The property certificate was in Qin Qingzhuo’s name, and Ji Chi joked at the time that it didn’t matter whose name was on it, because they would always live there together.

As Qin Qingzhuo finished his drink, he couldn’t help but wonder if the existence of this house could prove that Ji Chi had also once believed that they would always be together. Had Ji Chi also prepared to spend the rest of his life with him?

Four years had passed, and in all that time, they hadn’t even argued a few times. Qin Qingzhuo had never imagined that this relationship would end so abruptly and absurdly.

Clearly, he cherished this relationship, and he had devoted himself to it wholeheartedly. Where had things gone wrong to lead to this outcome?

Jiang Ji walked around the street, feeling the wind blowing, before returning to the bar.

Before entering the bar, he glanced at his phone again. Still no reply from Qin Qingzhuo.

What’s Qin Qingzhuo’s situation now? Jiang Ji wondered. Hopefully, he wasn’t contemplating something drastic like in those melodramatic TV plots, right?

Putting away his phone, he entered the bar, intending to sit in his usual spot for a while. But as he approached, he noticed that someone was already sitting there tonight.

Initially planning to go upstairs directly, he was about to turn around when he suddenly recognized the silhouette. The person sitting there was none other than Qin Qingzhuo.

It was a corner forgotten by the light, and in the dim light, Jiang Ji couldn’t see Qin Qingzhuo’s face clearly, but he could tell that he seemed to be drinking.

Jiang Ji hesitated in his steps, then pulled out a high stool beside him and sat down.

He asked the server to bring a glass of ice water and watched Qin Qingzhuo from a few meters away.

Although he couldn’t see Qin Qingzhuo’s expression clearly, Jiang Ji could feel a thick sadness enveloping him.

Isn’t it just a breakup? Jiang Ji took a sip of ice water, feeling somewhat disdainful. Is it really worth it?

Qin Qingzhuo drank one glass after another, while Jiang Ji quietly observed him from afar.

He thought of Qin Qingzhuo’s calm and confident demeanor when he was a judge, of how he had looked slightly annoyed standing at the bar entrance not long ago, and of his face that had been illuminated somewhat beautifully by the lights…

This person was usually so proud, and now, because of the few photos he had sent, he looked so despondent. Jiang Ji thought he would feel a sense of schadenfreude, feel great, but he found that he didn’t.

He felt sorry for Qin Qingzhuo. And Ji Chi, who caused him to be so pitiful, felt detestable.

He wondered if the feeling of sadness was contagious. Even from such a distance, he suddenly felt his mood deteriorating. Worse than before, even. Clearly, he had sent those photos to give Qin Qingzhuo a hard time, so why did it end up making him feel even more unhappy?

He felt even more agitated and restless.

After observing Qin Qingzhuo for a while, he got up from his seat and went upstairs.

Forget it, it seemed cruel to watch a sad person drinking. Perhaps Qin Qingzhuo didn’t want others to see him like this. This thought flashed inexplicably through Jiang Ji’s mind, but he deliberately ignored it.

The bar closed at 2:30 a.m., and usually Jiang Ji was responsible for locking up inside.

As Jiang Ji walked down the stairs, the customers on the first floor had already left. He glanced at the corner where Qin Qingzhuo had been sitting, now empty; Qin Qingzhuo had left as well.

He must have made it home safely after drinking so much, Jiang Ji thought.

The last server also walked out with the trash, leaving the first floor empty and silent.

The previous noise and bustle had vanished along with the garbage, as if they had never existed.

For Jiang Ji, this was the moment when the day truly ended, and it was also his most relaxed moment. He was accustomed to standing at the door and enjoying the breeze after everyone had left.

He pushed open the door and walked out, standing at the entrance of the bar. Across the alley, about ten meters away, stood Qin Qingzhuo.

Qin Qingzhuo stood there, tall and straight, showing no signs of drunkenness. He was slightly bowing his head, presumably looking at his phone, and Jiang Ji guessed he might be calling a driver.

Good tolerance for alcohol, Jiang Ji thought. He had managed to drink so much and still wasn’t completely wasted?

Then he saw Qin Qingzhuo slowly squatting down, probably wanting to rest for a while.

Until Jiang Ji had finished enjoying the breeze and was about to go back in to lock up, Qin Qingzhuo still hadn’t moved from the sidewalk.

—Was he falling asleep on the street? Jiang Ji thought absurdly.

Thinking this, he saw a man coming out of the bar opposite. The man walked up to Qin Qingzhuo, first patting his shoulder. Seeing Qin Qingzhuo’s lack of response, he then bent down and said something in his ear, but Qin Qingzhuo still didn’t react. The man then reached out his hands and placed them under Qin Qingzhuo’s ribs, as if trying to support him, not knowing where he wanted to take him.

Jiang Ji frowned.

He knew it was a gay bar; in the past, when he had helped throw out the garbage late at night, drunken gay men had leaned on him, but he had always pushed them away.

It wasn’t uncommon for a drunk person to be picked up like this around the bar, but now it was happening to Qin Qingzhuo… hadn’t he just seemed sober a moment ago? How did he suddenly look unconscious after squatting for a while?

After watching for a moment, Jiang Ji walked over to the opposite side.

The man’s attention was entirely on Qin Qingzhuo, completely unaware of Jiang Ji walking over from the opposite side.

Approaching the man, Jiang Ji looked down at him, his tone cold, “Let go.”

The man turned to look at him, puzzled, “Who are you? Do you know him?”

Jiang Ji’s tone became heavier as he repeated, “Let go.”

“I don’t know you, mind your own business,” the man impatiently replied.

Jiang Ji didn’t waste any more words; he raised his foot and gave the man a hefty kick on his side. It wasn’t a particularly strong kick, but it sent the man tumbling to the ground.

“Damn it!” The man struggled to get up, looking at Jiang Ji with a desire to retaliate but hesitated to do so.

Men who were fond of picking up drunks were cowards; otherwise, they wouldn’t only target those who were heavily intoxicated. Jiang Ji knew this very well, so he didn’t take him seriously and just told him to scram.

The man glared at Jiang Ji angrily but didn’t dare to fight back. Grumbling, he left.

Seeing him leave, Jiang Ji bent down and tapped Qin Qingzhuo’s shoulder, “Can you still walk?”

Qin Qingzhuo’s head hung between his knees, showing no response. It seemed he was completely unconscious from the alcohol. It was strange; just a moment ago, he had been squatting as if nothing was wrong.

Jiang Ji squatted down beside Qin Qingzhuo, unsure of what to do next. He reached out and grasped Qin Qingzhuo’s wrist, applying a bit of force.

Qin Qingzhuo audibly groaned in pain.

“Where do you live?” Jiang Ji asked.

Qin Qingzhuo still didn’t respond.

Jiang Ji pinched him a little harder this time, but Qin Qingzhuo didn’t even grunt.

Jiang Ji felt a headache coming on and released Qin Qingzhuo’s wrist. He had taken Qin Qingzhuo home once before, but Qin Qingzhuo had only allowed him to stop near Mingtai. He didn’t know Qin Qingzhuo’s exact address.

He glanced at Qin Qingzhuo’s phone, which was off. What had Qin Qingzhuo been doing, looking at his phone on the street just now?

There was another way, Jiang Ji thought. Qin Qingzhuo’s phone must have Ji Chi’s number stored in it. If he turned it on and called, he could ask for the address, and maybe Ji Chi would even send a driver to pick up Qin Qingzhuo.

But for some reason, Jiang Ji didn’t want to do that.

Otherwise… he would have to take Qin Qingzhuo back to his own place for now.

Jiang Ji sighed and wrapped one of Qin Qingzhuo’s arms around his shoulder, using his other hand to support Qin Qingzhuo’s body as he helped him stand up.