Chapter 46 "But I long for eternity with you, and this is my punishment."

Doctor Li—or rather, Li Fu—his hand holding the teacup trembled slightly, and a few drops of turbid tea spilled out and landed on the old wooden table, leaving dark marks.

The smile on his face slowly faded, replaced by a long-buried, complex expression of sadness and tenderness.

He was silent for a few seconds. When he spoke again, his deliberately imitated local accent had faded considerably, revealing some of his original, clearer Mandarin. "Teacher Chu saw through it... I thought I'd been here for twenty years and my accent had long been fooling people."

Li Fu put down the teacup in his hand, his eyes seemed to penetrate the mottled walls of the health station and looked into the distance. His voice became low and slow, as if he was telling a long-forgotten story.

"My original name was Li Fu. 'Fu' means repeated." He smiled softly, a smile filled with endless nostalgia. "When I was twenty, I didn't know the immensity of the world. I just thought that with love, I could conquer the world. My lover and I... his name is Shen Ming, like 'Ming', which means unforgettable. We... met at that time."

"He's soft-hearted and can't bear to see others suffer, so he's passionate about teaching in the places that need it most. As for me," Li Fu pointed at the health station, "I'm a medical student, so I thought, 'Great, wherever he goes to teach, I'll go practice medicine there, just like my husband does.'"

His choice of words made Zhou Ai and Chu Yi slightly stunned, but neither of them interrupted, just listened quietly.

"Later, we came here together. He taught the children to read and write, and I treated the villagers for headaches and fevers. Life was a bit hard, but my heart was full." Li Fu's eyes became hazy, as if he was lost in beautiful memories, but soon, that little light dimmed.

"But... in the summer of my fifth year here, there was a once-in-a-century flood in the mountains..." Li Fu's voice began to choke. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but his eyes were already red. "The flood came too quickly... The school is low-lying... Shen Ming... He... He tried to save the last two students trapped in the classroom..."

Li Fu's voice was completely choked. He lowered his head, covered his face with his rough hands, his shoulders trembled slightly, and suppressed sobs leaked out from between his fingers.

“…He couldn’t come out on his own.”

The last few words were almost squeezed out with the lingering sound, so heavy that it was suffocating.

The small clinic was completely silent, with only Li Fu's suppressed sobs and the occasional chirping of birds outside the window as the only sounds. The air was thick with an inextricable sadness.

After a long while, Li Fu wiped his face vigorously and raised his head. His face was already covered with tear marks. He tried hard to force a smile, but it was more painful than crying: "I'm sorry... I really... I really made you laugh. After all these years, I'm still useless..."

Chu Yi's heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, aching and swollen. He watched Li Fu suppress his grief, his throat tightening and he couldn't utter a word.

He deeply regretted that the question he had asked out of curiosity had easily uncovered the deepest and most painful scar in the other person's heart.

"Teacher Li..." Chu Yi's voice was a little hoarse and full of apology, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked..."

Zhou Ai also put away his lazy look and sat up straight, his expression unprecedentedly serious and respectful. He looked at Li Fu with a complicated gaze filled with indescribable emotions.

Li Fu waved his hands, wiped away his tears, took a deep breath, and tried to calm down: "It's okay, it's okay... So many years have passed. It's just that in my heart... in my heart, I can't forget it."

He looked out the window, his gaze becoming distant again. "He stayed here, so I stayed here too. He taught the children, and I helped the villagers see their doctors. Guarding this mountain, guarding these people... It's like... it's like I'm still with him. It's like... I have something to think about."

He spoke calmly, but every word was heavy, containing twenty years of perseverance and longing.

Chu Yi and Zhou Ai looked at him silently, as if they saw a silent and tenacious mountain.

At that moment, all the subtle awkwardness, ambiguous heartbeats, and even the hustle and bustle of the program recording seemed insignificant in the face of this heavy love and responsibility that transcends life and death.

The sunlight shines through the window lattice onto Li Fu's tear-stained face, and also into this simple health station that carries countless stories, warm and desolate.

After saying goodbye to Dr. Li, the two of them returned to their stilt house. The water had not yet receded, and the bumpy road surface reflected the broken sky.

Zhou Ai and Chu Yi walked in silence, one in front and one behind, half a step apart.

Zhou Ai's fingertips unconsciously rubbed the seam of his pants. The rain had stopped, and the umbrella had become an unnecessary burden, tightly grasped in his hand.

He glanced at Chu Yi beside him several times. The man lowered his head slightly, the lines of his profile were tense, and his eyelashes were drooping.

The little thought in Zhou Ai's mind of taking advantage of the weather to get closer seemed particularly frivolous at this moment.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something to break the suffocating silence, but found that he, who was usually very talkative, didn't know where to start.

In the end, Zhou Ai just held the umbrella ribs tighter, his Adam's apple rolled, and he suppressed the inappropriate restlessness back into his heart.

The path beneath his feet was slippery and muddy, a difficult one to walk on. Chu Yi seemed oblivious to the situation, trudging forward with one foot deep and one foot shallow, his expression dazed. He nearly slipped in front of a particularly muddy puddle, stumbling slightly.

Zhou Ai almost instinctively reached out and held his arm firmly.

When their palms touched the slightly cool fabric on each other's arms, they both paused almost imperceptibly.

"Be careful, the road is slippery." Zhou Ai's voice was a little hoarse than usual, and he immediately let go of her hand after he said that.

It was a brief contact, but I could clearly feel the coolness of the other person's skin and the slight tremor at that moment.

Chu Yi, snapped out of his thoughts by the sudden touch and support, looked up at Zhou Ai, his eyes still tinged with lingering sorrow and a hint of bewilderment. "...Thank you," he whispered, his voice a little dry.

After this brief exchange, silence fell again, but something subtle seemed to have changed.

They were no longer walking one in front of the other, but were actually walking side by side.

The pace was still slow and silent, but the air was no longer so stagnant that it made people breathless.

Zhou Ai no longer tried to find an excuse to get closer. He just walked silently beside Chu Yi. Occasionally, when he was in a particularly difficult place to walk, he would subconsciously slow down his pace and keep his eyes on the other person's feet.

Chu Yi was still immersed in his own thoughts, but Zhou Ai's presence was like a silent anchor, pulling him back to reality from his excessive sorrow.

The sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled spots of light on them.

The mountain breeze blew, bringing with it the coolness after the rain, and blew the corners of their clothes.

"Zhou Ai."

Those two words, clear and steady, even with a hint of barely perceptible fatigue, stirred up a huge, unexpected wave in Zhou Ai's heart. He turned his head abruptly and looked at Chu Yi, his eyes filled with undisguised astonishment.

Chu Yi had never called him by his full name before.

He waited for the next words, his heartbeat inexplicably disordered.

"Zhou Ai, don't say those words again."

Chu Yi repeated it again, it was not Teacher Zhou, but Zhou Ai.

I finally heard it clearly this time.

Zhou Ai curled his lips, tightened his grip on the umbrella handle, and reflexively wanted to put on his usual cynical and innocent expression, and use a light-hearted "What words?" to muddy the waters and pass over the sudden serious atmosphere.

This was what he was good at and used to, a way to crack the "automatic protection" mode that Chu Yi activated when facing him.

However, just as his lips curled up slightly, he met Chu Yi's eyes.

Those eyes that usually showed a sense of distance and calm scrutiny now did not contain the slightest hint of joking.

At this moment, it was more like two bottomless pools of still water, clearly reflecting Zhou Ai's attempts at disguise. Those serious, almost stubborn eyes, like a cold mirror, instantly exposed him.

Zhou Ai's Adam's apple rolled up and down uncontrollably, and a feeling of dryness quickly spread.

The question that was on the tip of his tongue, "What words?" was stuck in his throat and could no longer be uttered.

His open mouth slowly closed, and all the perfunctory tricks he had prepared automatically collapsed in the face of Chu Yi's overly seriousness.

Chu Yi's gaze shifted away from his face and turned to the distant mountains that appeared even greener and more hazy after the rain, but soon, he retracted his gaze and fell on Zhou Ai's face again, this time with a desperate frankness.

"Zhou Ai, I'm actually very insecure." His voice was not loud, but every word was clear and hit Zhou Ai's heart. "Stop playing those unrealistic jokes on me."

Chu Yi paused slightly, as if he needed to take a breath before continuing to express the most deeply rooted understanding in his heart.

"In my opinion, all relationships are staged." He spoke softly, yet with an almost cruel certainty, as if stating a truth that had been verified countless times. "So, please stop saying things that will cause me to misunderstand or cause me to feel entangled."

In the last sentence, there seemed to be even a slight tremor in Chu Yi's voice, revealing the fragility beneath his calm and self-possession.

"For me, any short-term companionship is cruel."

Chu Yi almost whispered the four words "very cruel". They were light and airy, yet so heavy that Zhou Ai's heart suddenly contracted and felt a tingling pain.

Zhou Ai was completely speechless, staring blankly at Chu Yi. The usual relaxed, indifferent expression on his face vanished without a trace, leaving only utter astonishment and a sense of being caught off guard.

He could even feel that the flow of his blood seemed to slow down, and his brain was buzzing, repeating the words "very cruel" over and over again.

Chu Yi looked at Zhou Ai's dazed and stunned expression, and saw that the usual lazy undertone in his eyes was completely shattered, revealing the most real helplessness underneath, which was perhaps something Zhou Ai himself had not even noticed.

"All relationships are stage-by-stage," Chu Yi lowered his head and muttered in his heart -

"But I longed for eternity with you, and this is my punishment."

Chu Yi had already made plans to bury this deep-seated extravagant hope, which he almost dared not touch, deep in his heart forever.

Chu Yi no longer looked at Zhou Ai. He turned his head slightly and quietly concealed the complex emotions surging in his eyes, leaving only a slightly tense silhouette, bathed in the pale afternoon sunlight, as if the confession just now had exhausted all his courage.

The astonishment on Zhou Ai's face gradually faded away, and the mask of innocence that she usually used to disguise herself shattered silently in the face of Chu Yi's unprecedented seriousness.

At this moment, Zhou Ai could even hear the heavy beating of his own heart, again and again, hitting his chest, and also hitting the echo of Chu Yi's words "very cruel".

He looked at Chu Yi's profile, and his Adam's apple rolled again with difficulty.

At this moment, Zhou Ai realized belatedly that all his easy-going teasing and frivolous temptations now seemed pale, ridiculous, and even... despicable.

He originally thought that it was just an unspoken game between adults, a harmless game of back and forth, but he never thought that for Chu Yi, this might mean another form of "cruelty".

He opened his mouth, a thousand thoughts stuck in his throat, and in the end, he could only utter a single word in a hoarse voice: "...Okay."

No excuses, no jokes, not even any follow-up questions.

Just a dry and solemn promise.

This reaction seemed to surprise Chu Yi. His eyelashes trembled and his gaze fell back on Zhou Ai's face.

He saw that the cynical light in Zhou Ai's eyes was gone, but instead there was a calm, almost serious emotion.

Zhou Ai took a deep breath, as if making up his mind. He took a half step forward, closing the distance a little, but his gesture was no longer one of aggressive approach, but rather one of awkward sincerity.

"I'm sorry." Zhou Ai's voice was low, and each word was pronounced clearly. "I... I didn't know I made you think that way. I won't do it again."

He paused, as if weighing his words, and met Chu Yi's gaze frankly: "Those words... I admit, some were jokes, but some..."

Zhou Ai paused, as if feeling that it was pointless to further discern what was true and what was false at this moment, and that it might even become another form of "unrealistic." So he swallowed the rest of his words and said, "Anyway, I won't say any more."

Chu Yi listened quietly. Zhou Ai's frankness and apology seemed beyond his expectations.

Looking up at Zhou Ai's peach blossom eyes, which were extremely serious at the moment, Chu Yi finally said "hmm" softly, which was regarded as accepting the apology and also as putting a temporary end to this topic.

The atmosphere fell silent again, but it was no longer the heavy and oppressive silence from before, nor was it the ambiguous and sticky silence. Instead, it was a kind of... a slightly awkward but cleaner calm after being washed away by honesty.

Zhou Ai looked at Chu Yi's slightly lowered eyes, and the inexplicable sour feeling in his heart resurfaced.

He suddenly realized clearly that Chu Yi's ever-present sense of alienation did not stem from arrogance or indifference, but from a deep-seated fear of loss and a kind of protection for himself.

He built the wall not because of rejection, but precisely because he was afraid of transience and the desolation after the splendor.

And his frivolous words may knock on the wall again and again, reminding him of the law of "stage-based relationships" that he firmly believes in.

"Let's go," Chu Yi suddenly said softly, breaking the silence, "It's time to prepare for the afternoon recording." He turned and walked towards the stilt house, his back thin and upright.

Zhou Ai looked at his back and did not follow him immediately.

In his heart, he silently broke down and reorganized all his previous frivolous thoughts.

A phased relationship?

He raised his foot and stepped on the footprints left by Chu Yi, following him step by step.

Maybe.

But he suddenly wanted to give it a try, to make this "stage" longer and longer.

Use words that are no longer frivolous, and in a way that no longer makes the other person feel uneasy.

All relationships may have an end.

But on the way to the end, he could try to make it...not like a short companionship that was destined to be cruel.