After the sudden rain (Part 2)

Sorkov hung up the phone, lowered his head slightly, and put his phone in his pocket. In just three seconds, the smile on his face vanished completely.

“You’re so bold it’s almost foolish,” the man behind him suddenly said.

He didn't hold back his nonchalant tone, "Really? I think it's fine."

Lena reached out and crushed the cigarette butt on the concrete, exhaling the last puff of smoke. She glanced at him and said, "You're crazy. Do you have to choose the hardest path for yourself?"

"This is none of your business."

They sat on the edge of the flower bed, but there was no doubt that they were far apart, as if they were avoiding a damned plague. They both chose to keep their distance from each other. If someone else had passed by at that moment, they would probably have thought they were two complete strangers.

Lena reached into her pocket for her cigarette case, but found nothing. She clicked her tongue in annoyance and turned to Sorkov. "Give me a cigarette."

"No."

Looking at the other person's matter-of-fact face, she suddenly laughed in a good mood, but the laughter was sharp and grating. "What, my dear brother has become a good boy now? I didn't know you quit smoking. How interesting, you actually managed to do that?"

Sorkov was too lazy to waste any more words with her. He took a deep breath and suppressed his impatience. "This is none of your business. You're meddling too much."

The other party, of course, wouldn't get annoyed by his impatience. Lena had gotten used to this from a very young age. In fact, when they were very young, their relationship was reversed, and she was the one who often felt annoyed.

Unexpectedly, as time went by, their habits of getting along had become quite different.

Lena almost laughed. "Good boy, if only you were more obedient, but you're making everyone angry."

Now it was Sorkov's turn to laugh. He stared at the empty street in front of the flower bed, lost in thought. "Anyway, I'm not the one who's angry, and it has nothing to do with me."

Suddenly a gust of wind blew, messing up Lena's carefully styled hair. She snorted irritably, reached out and grabbed her hair haphazardly to one side, her golden hair flying wildly in the breeze. "Idiot, I really don't want to admit you're my brother."

Sorkov stared at her coldly, then looked away.

He harbored many malicious words in his heart, those venomous words buried deep within him for a long time. These were words he would involuntarily curse every night for years, but unfortunately, he suppressed the urge to vent them.

It's meaningless, and of course there's no reason to say it out loud.

He certainly knew why Lena had gone to such lengths to come here; Master had sent her to issue an ultimatum. If he changed his mind now and withdrew his application to FINA, there would still be room for maneuver, and they wouldn't make things too difficult for him.

Interestingly, Master didn't know him or his temperament, but Lena did. However, her understanding of him was limited to the Sorkov of yesteryear, not the Sorkov of today.

That's why she condescended to sit with him on this dirty, muddy flowerbed, trying to win him back, and offered even more tempting terms than before. She seemed calm, even arrogant, because she knew no one could resist such a charming temptation.

But Sorkov didn't care.

He is no longer the person he used to be. He would go to great lengths for petty gains and would stop at nothing to climb the social ladder. The hardships he has endured over the years have changed his personality drastically.

Unfortunately, Lyena didn't know, and of course she wouldn't know. Her impression of him was still from before he left home. She didn't know what he had gone through all these years, and of course she couldn't imagine the pain and struggle. She had been happy in her comfort zone for too long and had almost forgotten the taste of pain.

But he did not forget; in fact, he remembered it all the time, so deeply.

Solkov chuckled, a cold laugh that was almost not a laugh at all, but rather a merciless sarcasm.

"There's no need to waste any more words. Tell Master that I certainly don't like Serbia that much, but I certainly don't like the United States either. Let him stop pretending to give me one last chance. No matter how many chances he gives me, I won't take them."

He stood up after saying that, meeting Lena's clearly surprised expression. "As for you, I have nothing to say. Anyway, you know where her tombstone is, so it's up to you whether you go or not."

A fleeting, almost imperceptible look of panic crossed her face. "Wait, stop! What do you mean? What tombstone?"

Sorkov stopped in his tracks, tilted his head slightly, paused briefly, and then, as if suddenly realizing something, even the last trace of mockery on his face vanished.

"Don't you know?" he whispered, his tone utterly cold. "You came back twice, and not even once did you think to inquire about her situation? You're unbelievably carefree. She wanted to see you before she died, and you don't even know when she died."

"You think she's still alive and well, right?"

Sorkov shoved her away, watching indifferently as she slowly became more agitated. "Idiot, didn't you ever think that if she were still alive, I wouldn't have been adopted? She died not long after she went to prison."

He turned around, facing the clenched-teeth Lyena directly, staring intently into her eyes without moving.

"Really?" he heard himself speak slowly. "Who took all the money from home before running away? You knew perfectly well that without that money, we would all die. It seems you don't really care about her life or death. And why are you acting like this now? Did you learn a lot from Hollywood?"

Lena burst into laughter, her hysterical laughter echoing through the quiet garden, carrying a strangely eerie quality.

“Luca, you have to be ruthless. You never seem to understand that.”

She tilted her head back, biting her lower lip hard, as if she was forcibly suppressing a laugh, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.

“I was ruthless, so I’m living a good life now. If I hadn’t been ruthless back then, I would have been stuck in that wretched place my whole life and would have died in poverty. I wouldn’t have done that.”

"You're the real idiot. If you can't bring yourself to be ruthless, you can only endure the pain. You can't bring yourself to completely sever ties with Serbia. You rejected the best opportunity of your life for that ridiculous sense of pride. Do you know how many people dream of having this qualification? Neutral athlete, how laughable. Do you think you can completely distance yourself from this? Little brother, how can you still be so naive?"

“Yes,” he said expressionlessly, “if we harden our hearts, will everything be resolved?”

In the years since she left so heartlessly, has her life been so smooth and perfect?

"You are ostracized because of your Eastern European accent, looked down upon because of your poverty, and gossiped about with vulgar language. Even now, you still have to live cautiously, watching the mood of those in power. You always boast about how happy you are, but your acting skills are so bad that it's laughable. You are ruthless, you are indeed ruthless, but so what?"

Sorkov paused briefly, his face bearing an expression that was cold to the point of being cruel.

"I hope you've never regretted it."

He left after saying that, ignoring the angry shouts behind him.

As for whether she regretted it or not, he didn't know. The only thing he was sure of was that no matter how much she regretted it, after so many years, there was no going back. Everyone's fate was completely changed on that rainy night when she left, and then completely out of control.

She was right. Sorkov didn't belong here at all, not from head to toe. He was never welcomed here, and no one had ever shown him the slightest bit of kindness.

But why would he change this place for this reason? Zhou Zeyi had asked him before, asking him why he didn't think about resisting. Resisting is certainly a way, but why waste his energy?

Zhou Zeyu wanted to change because she grew up in that environment, where she had experienced beauty and brilliance. So, even in the darkness, she wanted to do everything she could to get everything back on track. This was the fundamental reason for her rebellion, because she still had illusions from beginning to end.

But he didn't.

From swimming alone in the pond as a child to now finding coaches and teams and training in remote swimming pools, this place has never given him hope; everything he has achieved is through his own efforts.

So of course, he never imagined that one day he would be like Radetz, receiving praise and adoration. People's fates are always different, so how could he be sure he would get everything he couldn't get before?

He's no longer a child yearning for love; he doesn't need to go to great lengths to obtain the affirmation and acceptance he can't get anyway.

Therefore, he didn't actually have a choice at all; it was predetermined from the very beginning that he only had one plan, C.

After he made his decision, criticism and abuse were inevitable, but that was understandable, since he had already experienced them before and didn't care how much he had.

He just found it amusing that those people had never accepted him and had spared no effort in ostracizing him, just wanting him to leave the group forever. The current situation was exactly what they wanted, but they still had to pretend to be heartbroken, as if he had been the only one performing a one-man show from beginning to end.

Sorkov sat down on a bench by the roadside, frowning in frustration. The anger that had been suppressed in his heart was spreading uncontrollably. He forced himself not to imagine the faces of those people, exhaled, and unconsciously looked up at the night sky.

There was nothing there.

He paused for a moment, then suddenly remembered that at some point, he had also looked up at the sky in the same way, but his state of mind then was very different from now. He was far less agitated then, and his only worries were his unsolvable thesis and his incessantly nagging professor.

The night sky back then didn't seem as empty as it is now. He could stare at the faint stars for a while, lost in thought. After a long time, he looked down and saw Zhou Zeyu suddenly appear in front of him.

That was the first time she saw him, and she instinctively showed wariness and defensiveness, just as others had done to him, taking a slight step back.

But Zhou Zeyu was different from those people. She blinked, and then seemed to smile, but the smile was so subtle that even she herself seemed unaware of it. Then, the next second, the smile disappeared, but Sorkov definitely saw it.

What does this mean? It seems to confirm that she is indeed different.

Just like so many years ago, before their lives had even intersected, on that drizzly rainy day, why did fate happen to make him stand under that newsstand, and why did he so inexplicably look up and, without missing a beat, see her smiling face precisely among all those stacks of newspapers?

Zhou Zeyu looked at him with a melancholy expression and thanked him for everything he had done for her.

But what Sorkov never told her was that she didn't need to thank him at all, because it wasn't him who saved her, but her who saved him.

Because he yearned for that distant brilliance, he was able to support himself and keep going step by step.

It turns out there are still people in the world who are so happy, so happy that happiness seems within reach. So why can't they have it? They haven't done anything wrong, so why don't they deserve happiness? Of course they should.

On many sleepless nights, he would subconsciously look at the worn-out photograph, at the familiar, deeply etched smiling face on it, his fingertips slowly tracing her cheek, then he would take another deep breath, close his eyes, and force himself to keep going.

At least, he has to hold on until the day he sees her.

And then it all actually happened.

Sorkov chuckled softly. He thought of Zhou Zeyu; she was much happier now, and of course she should be. She deserved to be happy like this forever.

That day, she made a brief phone call to him, telling him about her recent situation. But he knew everything. He knew what she was proud of and what she was struggling with. She wanted to start over, which was good. She was finally able to let go of the past and choose to move forward without hesitation.

Completely letting go—these four simple words are something Solkov couldn't do, because it requires not only magnanimity but also courage.

Fortunately, she has always been a brave person.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice when someone had silently appeared in front of him. He caught a glimpse of the suddenly appearing figure out of the corner of his eye, paused, looked up, and frowned slightly when he saw the person's face. He spoke cautiously.

"It's you?"

The other person seemed to smile, but that faint smile was almost non-existent in the darkness. "You know me."

Her tone was very confident, with an annoying air of certainty. Solkov could even sense her current self-assurance, as if she had long been certain of everything and even knew him very well.

He hated this attitude.

“That’s not hard to understand, after all, you know me.” He completely suppressed his smile and looked at the other person warily. “So what brings you here?”

She smiled and said, "You guessed it, didn't you? After all, we're not just connected to one person."

"You know perfectly well that I came here for Zhou Zeyu."