Chapter 79

After saying this, silence fell between them once again.

Qin Qingzhuo didn’t know why he said that. When he was sober, he would never utter such words to Jiang Ji. But perhaps it was because he was drunk, or perhaps it was because of the earlier thought of “indulging oneself on one’s birthday,” which made him blurt out whatever came to mind.

A gust of cold wind blew in, carrying a chill that sobered Qin Qingzhuo up a bit and restored some of his rationality.

This shouldn’t be like this, he thought, otherwise it would seem like he was deliberately leading Jiang Ji on.

The sparks reached the cigarette butt, signaling the end of the smoke. Qin Qingzhuo thought it was time for him to leave.

“Why did you come to Honglu Slope Street tonight?” Jiang Ji continued with the previous question.

This time, Qin Qingzhuo didn’t answer.

“Is it also because of me?”

This scene reminded Qin Qingzhuo of the evening when Jiang Ji cornered him against the wall and interrogated him.

Jiang Ji was assertive, and he gave evasive answers.

“It’s too late,” Qin Qingzhuo lowered the hand holding the cigarette. “Jiang Ji, go back and rest.”

He finished speaking and tried to pull his hand away from Jiang Ji’s grasp. However, Jiang Ji sensed his intention and instead inserted his fingers firmly between Qin Qingzhuo’s, holding onto them tightly.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last time,” Jiang Ji said.

Qin Qingzhuo, whose eyelashes had been lowered the whole time, finally lifted them and looked at him. “About what?”

“About those two drinks,” Jiang Ji also looked at him. “I think you’re wrong. If a person’s feelings are really like a drink, then when one drink is finished, another should be poured. Feelings are the same way. When one relationship ends, you should tidy up your feelings and face the next one. The reason why the past is the past is because you should be looking forward, not backward.”

He finished speaking and waited for Qin Qingzhuo’s response.

But Qin Qingzhuo lowered his eyelashes again, concealing his emotions so well that Jiang Ji couldn’t discern his inner thoughts.

“Let me tell you a story,” Jiang Ji’s tone suddenly relaxed a bit. “About my childhood. Listen to it before you leave, okay?”

Qin Qingzhuo found himself unable to refuse Jiang Ji’s request. He nodded. “Go ahead.”

“When I was a child, I was sick for a while,” Jiang Ji’s voice became heavy as he began to recount his childhood. “I had a severe cough, and the doctor prescribed a bitter Chinese herbal medicine for me. I didn’t like it, so my mom prepared candies for me. Every time after I finished drinking the medicine, she rewarded me with a candy.

“One time, she brought the medicine over but had to rush out for something urgent, so she left the candy and told me to finish the medicine first. But as soon as she left, I ate the candy first, thinking it wouldn’t matter if I took the medicine after. However, when I finished the candy and went to drink the medicine, I found it even bitterer than before. It was so bitter that I couldn’t swallow a single mouthful. In the end, I secretly poured it away before my mom came back.”

He finished with a light laugh, almost self-deprecatingly. “It’s a boring story, isn’t it?”

But Qin Qingzhuo still didn’t answer his question.

So Jiang Ji continued on his own. “To me, you’re like that candy. I can only live on like I used to if I forget about that sweetness. So actually, earlier, I lied. I didn’t smoke because… I stood there, thinking I would wait a little longer. If you still hadn’t replied to that message, I would have finished smoking that cigarette, then tried my best to forget about you completely.”

Qin Qingzhuo closed his eyes. He didn’t know what to respond, feeling a sour and overwhelming emotion rising in his chest. There was a moment when he wanted to say something, but found himself unable to utter a word.

The acidic feeling, almost corroding his heart, made him suddenly realize that he actually liked Jiang Ji—liking him while being afraid to accept Jiang Ji’s affection.

It was a feeling he had never experienced before, tormenting and extremely contradictory, almost painful.

He now understood that all the excuses he had made before were just that—excuses. The real reason was only one: he was afraid of accepting a new relationship.

Every time Jiang Ji confessed his feelings straightforwardly, he subconsciously wanted to avoid Jiang Ji’s gaze and escape from his own true feelings.

The more passionate and sincere the confession, the more he wanted to evade and escape.

The palpitations and fluttering in his chest became more apparent, and images of the miserable scene after breaking up with Ji Chi kept flashing in his mind.

He couldn’t help but wonder, would this moment of excitement eventually turn into a dagger stabbing himself in the future?

Will Jiang Ji’s affection gradually turn into another betrayal in their future interactions?

If it does happen, will the genuine feelings he has given away come back to haunt him doubly with pain?

So the more he likes Jiang Ji, the less he dares to accept this relationship. Because having been hurt once, he anticipates that if it happens again, he will only be hurt even more deeply.

The instinct to seek gain and avoid harm makes him prefer to evade everything before it happens.

Perhaps staying in this moment is the best choice, always remembering a little sweetness when recalling the other person in the future.

It won’t spoil or decay—always better than obtaining it, only to watch it decay before his eyes.

Jiang Ji looked at Qin Qingzhuo. The more Qin Qingzhuo remained silent, the more he wanted to continue speaking.

Perhaps after tonight, there would never be another chance to say these things. So, he thought, he would say whatever he wanted to say. Even if Qin Qingzhuo didn’t want to listen, he would still say everything he had been thinking these days.

“Not just tonight, but every day this month, I’ve really wished I could forget about you. Even now, I wish this were just a dream. After waking up, I’d still be that person carrying debts, who had never met you, living like a stray dog.”

“Jiang Ji, that’s not necessary,” Qin Qingzhuo finally spoke, trying to sound more relaxed. “You’ve actually become better than before. That’s a good thing.”

“Is it a good thing? Peng Keshi said the same. Maybe I’m the only one who doesn’t think so.” Jiang Ji chuckled lightly. “Honestly, I feel miserable every day now. I even want to return to the days of numbness and evil deeds. When I think about the money I’m earning now, the life I’m living, and the bright future in others’ eyes—all of it comes from the torment you suffered—I feel disgusted with myself.”

“Jiang Ji, don’t say that…” Qin Qingzhuo tried to say something, but Jiang Ji interrupted him.

“But I have to, because I have to meet your expectations, because I want to be closer to you. But I often wonder, is it really meaningful? Can you really see it? These thoughts, I go through them tens or hundreds of times every day. I feel like I’m going crazy…”

“So why did you come here tonight? Why not make up your mind to forget about me completely… As soon as I saw you just now, I regretted it again. You looked especially beautiful tonight, and I wanted to remember you a little longer. I couldn’t bear to forget about you again.” Jiang Ji took a deep breath, trying hard to calm his emotions. “Qin Qingzhuo, it’s the first time I’ve liked someone. I have no experience. Can you give me some advice? How can I forget about you…”

His suppressed voice was tinged with hoarseness, making Qin Qingzhuo feel extremely uncomfortable.

Clearly, he didn’t want Jiang Ji to be hurt again, and he also wanted Jiang Ji to live happily. But now, all the pain suffered by this nineteen-year-old was caused by himself.

Liking someone for the first time should have been a beautiful experience, but because of his repeated withdrawal and avoidance, it turned into a painful torment.

So why did he come here tonight? Qin Qingzhuo also wanted to ask himself this question. It was impossible to return to being ordinary friends or senior and junior now. It should have ended here; not seeing each other anymore, stopping this torture for each other, was the right thing to do.

The sour and swollen emotion in his chest pushed straight up, making him feel sour from his nostrils to his eyes, so sour that it gave him a headache.

“I’m sorry, Jiang Ji…” Qin Qingzhuo struggled to speak, but didn’t know how to continue.

Jiang Ji closed his eyes, took a long, slow breath, and let it out.

In the end, all he got was a “sorry.”

That’s enough, Jiang Ji, he told himself. Stop saying these annoying things, and stop greedily holding back Qin Qingzhuo from leaving. Give yourself some dignity.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault if you don’t like someone,” he swallowed hard, forcing down his out-of-control emotions. “I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have talked to you about these things tonight. As for that contract, if you feel uncomfortable, just forget about it. I was too reckless before. I won’t disturb you at your studio anymore, and you don’t have to deliberately avoid me.”

After saying this, Jiang Ji turned his face slightly, looking at the shadows of himself and Qin Qingzhuo overlapping on the ground, realizing that this might be the closest they would ever be from now on.

“It’s probably going to be hard for us to have any more interactions in the future,” he resolved firmly, releasing Qin Qingzhuo’s hand. “Let’s both live our lives well.”

These words sounded like they were directed at Qin Qingzhuo, but they were more like Jiang Ji talking to himself.

“Let’s go,” he sighed softly. “I’ll walk you back.”

He waited for Qin Qingzhuo to turn and walk back first, but Qin Qingzhuo didn’t move.

He looked at Qin Qingzhuo and noticed, in the dim light, that Qin Qingzhuo had his eyes downcast, and it seemed like there were tears beneath his eyelids.

He hesitated for a moment, realizing that Qin Qingzhuo was crying.

For a moment, Jiang Ji thought it was just his imagination. How could Qin Qingzhuo be crying?

Qin Qingzhuo had always been calm and composed, handling everything with ease.

But a few seconds later, he realized that Qin Qingzhuo was indeed crying, because Qin Qingzhuo looked so devastated.

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Ji panicked. “Don’t cry… Did I say something to upset you?”

Having lived for so long, experiencing life’s ups and downs, he had seen all kinds of situations. Even in the most frustrating times, he could maintain some rationality. However, at this moment, seeing Qin Qingzhuo’s tears, he felt at a loss for what to do.

“I… I didn’t mean to pressure you,” he suddenly found it difficult to speak, raising his hand to wipe away Qin Qingzhuo’s tears from his face, only daring to use the back of his hand, afraid that calluses on his fingers would scratch Qin Qingzhuo’s face. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I was just talking nonsense earlier. Don’t take it to heart…”

But Qin Qingzhuo continued to cry, eyes downcast, silently shedding tears.

The tears seemed endless, quickly wetting Jiang Ji’s entire hand.

Jiang Ji didn’t know what he could do to make Qin Qingzhuo feel better. Instinctively, he raised his hand to embrace Qin Qingzhuo, covering the back of his head with his palm, softly repeating, “Don’t cry.”

As soon as Qin Qingzhuo cried, it felt as if his heart was submerged in corrosive liquid, causing intense acid pain.

He blamed himself for why he had to say these things tonight. He should have just silently accompanied Qin Qingzhuo to the end of this road.

When he vented out those words, why didn’t he think about how Qin Qingzhuo would feel hearing them?

He clearly liked Qin Qingzhuo so much, so how could he bear to make Qin Qingzhuo cry on his birthday?

Raindrops began to fall from the sky, the rain that had been looming since the journey from the east side of the city finally arrived at this moment.

Standing embraced like this on the street in the dead of night, Qin Qingzhuo gently pushed away from Jiang Ji.

He didn’t say anything, just lifted his hand to remove the earphones and handed them back to Jiang Ji, then lowered his head and walked towards the direction of the car.

This time, Jiang Ji didn’t stop him, only lowering his arms and silently watching as Qin Qingzhuo got into the car.

Sitting in the car, Qin Qingzhuo leaned back against the seat, closed his eyes, and that uncomfortable feeling, like a raging storm in his chest, continued to churn, causing his tears to flow uncontrollably.

It was agonizing, he had never felt so much pain in his life. It felt like every organ in his body was contorted.

The driver in the front seat sensed something was wrong with him, but didn’t ask further, and started the car, driving onto the road.

Outside, light rain fell, the raindrops pattering against the window, making a gentle sound.

Qin Qingzhuo took a tissue and wiped away the tears from his face, trying hard to calm his emotions.

He lowered his head to look at the vinyl record in his hand, where Jiang Ji’s handwriting was printed, vertically written “Happy Birthday”, and beside it was another line — “Wishing you sweet dreams.”

The car had been modified with a slot for playing records in the back seat, and Qin Qingzhuo inserted the vinyl record into it.

The next moment, the rain outside sounded even clearer, and the first song was “Light Peck.”

In the cramped cabin, Jiang Ji’s voice sounded clear and gentle, like a soft confession.

Qin Qingzhuo turned his head to look at the neon lights on the street, the rain smearing the window into a blur, and the flickering neon lights were also blurred into large blocks of color.

He remembered that it was also raining heavily the night Jiang Ji wrote this song, much heavier than tonight’s rain. The raindrops were hitting the roof of the car loudly, and Jiang Ji looked at him, said, “Qin Qingzhuo, give me some inspiration,” and then gave him a warm and tender kiss.

He could have avoided it, so why did he let himself accept it again?

Perhaps it was also because he was greedy for the intense heat of youthful love, so he found an excuse of “too late to avoid” for himself.

As the music reached the chorus, it seemed to explode into a brilliant and grand fireworks display with vocals and instruments.

For the past month, Qin Qingzhuo had restrained himself from thinking about anything related to Jiang Ji, but now it seemed as if a floodgate had suddenly opened, and all the memories about Jiang Ji surged forth like a flood —

Jiang Ji looking at him without blinking through the crowd at the music concert;

Jiang Ji saying, “You stopped the bad weather,” when he was eliminated behind the scenes;

Jiang Ji squatting beside the stage, whispering, “Is it okay?” before kissing him;

Jiang Ji sitting in the car, honestly saying, “I’ll try to be better, to be more like you”;

Jiang Ji standing in the dim light backstage, softly asking if he liked the love song;

In the dark alley, the moment he found him, all his hostility dissipated;

Every scene about Jiang Ji flooded into his mind, and once they appeared, they refused to leave, firmly occupying his brain. So gradually, his brain was filled with every detail of Jiang Ji, leaving no space empty.

Jiang Ji said he was the candy in his life, but wasn’t he also the candy in his bitter life?

Having tasted the sweetness, how could he swallow the bitterness of the rest of his life?

Would he have to desperately avoid anything related to Jiang Ji in the future, living quietly and numbly?

He suddenly felt a deeper sense of fear compared to the fear of being hurt again after giving his heart.

He was afraid of living so lonely and numb, and also afraid that the boy who liked him would completely fade out of his life, no longer having any connection with him.

He began to hate himself a little for always backing away. Why couldn’t he be a bit braver and accept this relationship? Why did he always have to anticipate a result of being hurt?

The neon lights outside the window dazzled Qin Qingzhuo’s eyes, and he suddenly felt an impulse to go back to find Jiang Ji.

He wasn’t sure if he was sober or rational at the moment, just like the night he took Jiang Ji away from the camera crew of the program. Perhaps he would soon realize that this was too impulsive, but he couldn’t restrain himself.

“Go back to Honglu Slope Street,” he heard himself say.

The driver in the front seat also paused for a moment, “Go back?”

“Yeah,” Qin Qingzhuo said, “Go back.”

“Okay,” the driver quickly responded, “I’ll turn around at the intersection ahead.”

There was a median barrier in the middle of the road, and the car continued forward for a while before finally reaching an intersection where it could turn around.

The intersection was crowded with many cars, as the “Midnight Temperature” flash mob event had just ended, and it was the time when the audience was dispersing.

The car squeezed forward with the flow of traffic for a short distance, then came to a complete stop due to congestion.

“Traffic jam at the intersection,” the driver turned back and said, “We might have to wait for a while…”

Before he could finish his sentence, he saw Qin Qingzhuo suddenly push open the car door and silently get out of the car.

He hesitated, watching the car door close and Qin Qingzhuo walking in the opposite direction.

The raindrops fell a little faster, driven by the wind, hitting Qin Qingzhuo’s face.

He walked quickly, unaware that tiny snowflakes had mixed in with the raindrops.

The chill became more apparent, and as the intoxication gradually faded, he felt his mind clearer than ever before.

But even with this clarity, the impulse to see Jiang Ji immediately didn’t diminish at all. On the contrary, it became stronger and stronger.

He wrapped his coat tightly around him, lowering his head to avoid the raindrops and snowflakes hitting his face.

The noisy voices behind him grew more distant, and at the same time, his footsteps quickened.

The headlights from distant cars shone through, and the fine raindrops pierced through the light. He remembered the scene when Jiang Ji held his hand and ran towards the distant light, so he quickened his pace.

He heard his own rapid breathing, felt the moist wind blowing across his face, and his hair being tossed up.

He ran all the way to Honglu Slope Street, gradually slowing down only when he arrived.

He took a few more steps forward before stopping, standing on the same street where he had embraced Jiang Ji just moments ago.

He saw Jiang Ji’s back facing him, walking towards the Honglu Bar with his head slightly lowered, his shadow elongated by the dim streetlights.

After staring at that figure for a few seconds, Qin Qingzhuo began to walk towards Jiang Ji.

Jiang Ji walked slowly, while he walked quickly, gradually closing the distance between them.

However, Jiang Ji, wearing earphones, seemed lost in thought and didn’t notice any movement behind him.

By the time Qin Qingzhuo reached the entrance of the Honglu Bar, Jiang Ji had already stepped onto the steps, and the rolling shutter was slowly rising with a creaking sound.

“Jiang Ji.” Standing at the foot of the steps, Qin Qingzhuo called out Jiang Ji’s name.

He saw Jiang Ji’s back stiffen slightly, then slowly turn towards him.

Jiang Ji took off his earphones, his expression one of surprise, as if he couldn’t believe Qin Qingzhuo had come back.

Qin Qingzhuo took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as much as possible. “Jiang Ji, you regretted the birthday wish last time. Today is my birthday, so do I have a chance to regret too?”

The night was deep, and the teenager with a hood looked straight at him, his dark eyes obscure and unclear. After a few seconds, he finally spoke, his usual smooth voice tinged with a hint of awkwardness, “Regret… what?”

“We…” Qin Qingzhuo swallowed the dryness in his throat. “Let’s give it a try.”

After saying this, he waited for Jiang Ji’s response, but Jiang Ji just looked at him without speaking.

Standing at the foot of the steps, Qin Qingzhuo suddenly felt uneasy —

No matter how strong and passionate one’s feelings are, they always have a limit.

Could it be that under his repeated retreats, Jiang Ji had already become disappointed with him?

Could it be that Jiang Ji had realized that someone who only knows how to retreat like himself wasn’t worth liking so much?

However, this time, Qin Qingzhuo didn’t want to continue retreating. He steadied himself, climbed the steps, and walked towards Jiang Ji.

During the short distance, Jiang Ji’s gaze never left him.

Qin Qingzhuo reached Jiang Ji and looked into his eyes, repeating once again, “Jiang Ji, let’s give it a try.”

He felt like his breath was elongated, each exhale echoing in his ears. Time seemed to slow down countless times, so he subconsciously held his breath.

He had never known waiting for an answer could be so agonizing.

He looked steadily at Jiang Ji, eager to catch any subtle changes on his face.

After a long few seconds, he saw Jiang Ji’s eyelashes flutter slightly, and his lips moved gently. For a moment, he felt as if Jiang Ji was about to cry the next second.

However, this subtle change quickly disappeared from Jiang Ji’s face, and he lowered his eyes.

“But I don’t want to give it a try.” He heard Jiang Ji say.

A bitter taste of alcohol surged up belatedly, and Qin Qingzhuo suddenly felt at a loss.

“Together means together,” Jiang Ji looked up at him, “there’s no such thing as giving it a try.”

In an instant, Qin Qingzhuo’s held breath relaxed, and the breath he exhaled seemed to tremble. “Then let’s be together.”

“Jiang Ji,” he looked at Jiang Ji, his tone more determined this time, “let’s be together.”

Jiang Ji cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple rolling. “Okay.”

Qin Qingzhuo breathed a sigh of relief as if granted amnesty. He closed his eyes and realized his legs had almost given out.

The next moment, Jiang Ji reached out and hugged him, his voice hoarse in his ear, “Let’s be together.”

TN:

These past few chapters reminded me of the songs {Insomnia} and {Sorry} by The Rose AND {Like We Used To}. Go listen to it and read the lyrics especially and tell me I’m not right! They’re basically The Rose’s discography😭.