wait
Xu Yan clutched the yellowed photo, his knuckles turning white from the strain. The lanterns in the teahouse's backyard swayed in the night breeze, stretching his figure into a long, solitary shadow.
"Give me paper and pen." He suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse but extremely firm.
Gu Yan pulled a pen and a notepad from his suit pocket. Lin Shuyin tactfully pulled Lin Wanqing, who was about to say something, back to the corridor, leaving the world shrouded in lanterns.
Xu Yan—or rather, the man who had now become Cheng Xiaorui again—bent over the stone table, his pen hovering over the paper for a long time. Ten years had condensed on the tip of his pen, but when he finally put pen to paper, he only wrote seven words:
"I'm still mad at you."
He folded the note carefully and looked at Lin Wanqing: "Can you help me take it to him?"
"Is that it?" Lin Wanqing was stunned.
"That's it." He pressed the note into her hand and turned to look at the lights all over the city. "Some things need to be said in person to feel better."
Lin Shuyin chuckled: "Then how are we going to vent our anger?"
Xu Yan looked down at the grinning little Lu Ziyi in the photo, and for the first time, a faint smile appeared in his eyes: "When he finds me, you will know."
On the way back to his apartment, Xu Yan bought a bag of fruit candy at a 24-hour convenience store. While paying, he stared at the payphone next to the cash register for a long time before silently collecting the change.
That night he fell asleep with the photo as his pillow, his childhood memories surging like a sea in his dreams. At 5:30 in the morning, he was awakened by the engine of the first bus. Standing by the window, watching the gradually brightening sky, he suddenly said:
"Starting today, I'm going to save money to buy a cell phone."
Gu Yan put breakfast on the table: "Want to make a call?"
"No," Xu Yan took a bite of the fried egg, "I want to wait for someone to call and answer the phone immediately."
The morning light filtered through the newly pasted window grilles, casting a warm glow in his eyes. This Spring Festival, some of the frozen past was quietly thawing.
Late at night, Xu Yan lay on his bed in the guest room, his eyes open as he stared at the flowing light and shadows cast by the streetlights on the ceiling. After the shock and confusion of the day subsided, a more fundamental and perplexing question surfaced in his mind, like a reef underwater, revealed after the tide receded.
Why is it Lu Ziyi?
He asked himself silently in his heart.
Obviously... Chen Zihan and Lu Ziyi...
Chen Zihan's love was fervent and irresistible, wrapping him tightly in her arms, even willing to chain him up to keep him by her side. That kind of love was like a suffocating storm.
And Lu Ziyi's "liking"... Xu Yan frowned, trying to find evidence in those oppressive and chaotic memories. It was more like... an arrogant declaration, a mocking "concern," a line drawn with money and power, a control that treated him like a possession.
In terms of "badness", Lu Ziyi's early methods seemed to be no different in essence from Chen Zihan's later imprisonment, and even hurt his dignity earlier.
Why did he instinctively and passively reserve a different place for Lu Ziyi in his heart?
Was it because he had seen Chen Zihan's paranoia and fear during that time in captivity? He hypothesized in his mind. This seemed like a reasonable explanation. Fear had kept him away from Chen Zihan.
But... this doesn't explain why he "chose" Lu Ziyi instead of completely staying away from the two of them.
Was it because Lu Ziyi later paid for his mother's medical expenses? No, it felt more like a cold transaction that pushed him into a deeper sense of powerlessness.
His thoughts hit a dead end here. He turned over and buried his face in the pillow. But fragments flashed through his mind uncontrollably -
It was Lu Ziyi in the infirmary, staring at the needle prick on the back of his hand with a complex expression he couldn't understand; it was that photo of him when he was eight years old, showing little Lu Ziyi, pressed into the sand, with a pure smile in his eyes, free of any cloud...
And... that kiss in the toilet cubicle, with the smell of blood and perfume, almost plundering, but at the last moment... inexplicably lingering.
These fragments are so chaotic and intertwined with bullying and control that it is impossible to sort out.
He doesn't understand.
He really doesn't understand.
Love is not like a math problem, there is no formula to follow. It is like an ocean current, silent and invisible, but with irresistible force, pushing people in a specific direction.
It was only on that rainy night, in the "safe haven", that his heart would tighten uncontrollably when he heard the name "Lu Ziyi"; it was only when he saw that childhood photo that he would feel an indescribable sadness; it was only when he learned that Lu Ziyi was also looking for him and changing for him, that something frozen in his heart seemed to "click" and crack.
There may be no reason for this.
In other words, the reason was buried deep in his subconscious that he himself had not noticed, deep in that forgotten first encounter on a rainy day when he was eight years old.
Xu Yan let out a long breath. Once this thought surfaced, he could no longer suppress it. He opened his eyes wide in the darkness and began to wade through the river of memories, like untangling a tangled thread, searching for the source of that "bias."
When did you start liking it?
He first ruled out the recent past. His mother's death, Chen Zihan's imprisonment, these immense traumas had enveloped everything like a thick fog, leaving only numbness and a desire to survive.
And then…was it when Lu Ziyi intervened forcefully and paid for his medical bills? No, back then he felt more humiliation and a kind of anger at being “priced in.”
Was it earlier, then? At school, during those endless days of teasing and staring? Back then, he felt only annoyance and fear.
His thoughts were like probes, carefully probing those memory nodes related to Lu Zi, hoping to find a clear "beginning" each time, but each time he returned disappointed. There was no so-called love at first sight, no dramatic turning point.
Until… his thoughts stopped at that chaotic spot. Lu Ziyi pinched his chin, his thumb pressing against the corner of his cracked mouth, his eyes cold and his movements rough. But in that situation, in that intense pain, he actually caught a ridiculous glimpse of… an extremely subtle, carefully hidden… concern?
The feeling was so weak and inappropriate that he completely ignored it at the time and even denied it himself.
He clearly remembered that Lu Ziyi's attitude had changed significantly since he and Chen Zihan climbed over the wall in their second year of high school.
Could it be... that it had been growing quietly from these times? In the cracks between those bad behaviors, like a tenacious vine?
But how is this possible? It's ridiculous.
He recalled that when he was imprisoned by Chen Zihan, in extreme fear, what flashed through his mind was not Chen Zihan's distorted face, but Lu Ziyi's eyes that were bottomless but inexplicably made him feel... familiar.
Is it because of our first encounter when we were eight years old?
The memory of that rainy day is already hazy, but was that feeling—the brief encounter and mutual warmth between two lonely souls in the torrential rain—like a dormant seed, already buried deep in his heart? So much so that later, when Lu Zi re-entered his life with a more assertive presence, this seed subconsciously recognized that unique warmth, even if it was wrapped in frost.
Xu Yan couldn't get a definite answer.
Falling in love with Lu Ziyi didn't seem to be an instant decision, but a process. It was like drinking a glass of slow-acting wine without realizing it, and by the time he realized he was drunk, he was already deeply intoxicated.
This discovery made him feel a little panic.
If...if I really like...
Xu Yan turned over, trying to stop this overly bold assumption, but it stubbornly took root.
Then...how did he fall in love with me?
This made him feel even more confused than deciphering those three words. He carefully recalled his interactions with Lu Ziyi, trying to find a little soil that might breed good feelings from those oppressive memories.
Is it because I am obedient?
No, although he was unable to resist physically, the stubbornness and silent resistance in his eyes had never really gone out.
Is it because I have some attractive qualities?
He examined himself: silent, gloomy, troubled, and practically worthless except for his decent-looking face. Meanwhile, Lu Ziyi was always surrounded by bright and dazzling people.
Is it... because of my "misery"?
A feeling of pity? The thought mortified him.
His thoughts drifted further, to that rainy day when he was eight years old, which he had deliberately forgotten. Was it because of that?
Because Lu Xuhan, who dragged him home without saying anything when he was in the most miserable situation, gave him a bowl of fried rice, and lent him his little dinosaur pajamas, left an indelible mark on the heart of the equally lonely Lu Ziyi?
So later, when Lu Ziyi recognized him, that complex emotion mixed with childhood memories twisted into subsequent concern and entanglement?
This speculation gave him a shock.
If this was true, then the source of this feeling was actually much older and more...pure than he had imagined. It was simply wrapped up and distorted by their identities, families, and the way they didn't know how to express it properly.
Xu Yan couldn't come up with a definitive answer. Exploring Lu Ziyi's heart was like trying to peer under an iceberg; all he could see was the tip that floated above the water.
But one thing seemed clear to him. If that love truly existed, it certainly didn't come out of nowhere, nor was it without reason. It was likely buried deep within a subconscious that even Lu Ziyi himself hadn't fully grasped, a mixture of memory, obsession, and a clumsy instinct that could only bring him closer by hurting him...
This realization did not make everything clear, but instead made the feelings seem even heavier and more complicated.
…
The dim morning light filtered through the newly-applied window paper, casting mottled shadows on Xu Yan's face. He had barely slept all night, and his eyes were slightly darker than ever, yet his gaze was clearer than ever.
He walked out of the guest room and found Gu Yan already sitting at the dining table watching the morning news with two cups of steaming milk at his sides.
"Good morning." Gu Yan looked up at him. "It seems someone has been thinking about life all night."
Xu Yan sat down across from him, cupping the warm milk in his hands. In the morning light, his voice was soft, yet filled with a calm determination: "Gu Yan, if... someone keeps treating you the wrong way, but you vaguely feel that they might be... motivated by some inexplicable emotion. What should you do?"
Gu Yan turned off the TV and pondered for a moment: "The wrong way, do you mean hurting someone?"
Xu Yan nodded.
"Then wait until he learns to use it the right way." Gu Yan's tone was as calm as ever. "Before that, protect yourself. True love will make people want to become better, not become a reason to consume each other."
At this time, Lin Shuyin came out of the room, rubbing her eyes. Upon hearing this, she immediately came over and said, "Who? Who is using the wrong method? Is it Lu Ziyi?"
Xu Yan did not deny it.
Lin Shuyin immediately put her hands on her hips and said, "I knew it! That kind of awkward and arrogant guy..."
"Shuyin." Gu Yan stopped her. Lin Wanqing also came out and sat quietly beside him.
Life seemed to have returned to its usual rhythm, but something was different. Xu Yan was still busy at the "safe haven," but there was a new calmness and strength in his eyes. He cherished and respected this job immensely—it not only provided a roof over his head during his most adrift and helpless times, but also gave him dignity and the fulcrum to stand up again. Gu Yan's salary, which was far above market value, was, he knew, a subtle act of consideration.
"Yanyan, the guests at table three praised the layers of wine you mixed." Lin Shuyin passed the message with a smile and stuffed a grape into his mouth.
Lin Wanqing returned home after her vacation, but she would video call Lin Shuyin almost every night. Sometimes she would call Lin Shuyin, but the person on the other end of the screen would always casually ask, "Where's Xu Yan?"
He now possessed what he had once dared not dream of: a respectable job, a boss who was both a mentor and a friend, and a sincere friendship. The sunshine, sea breeze, and kindness of this coastal town, like a warm stream, gradually nourished his battered heart. He felt a simple happiness.
But every night, when everyone was asleep and he looked out the window at the unfamiliar starry sky, he knew clearly: this harbor was nice, but he couldn't stay here forever. That northern city, those unresolved knots in his heart, the person who wrote "I'll wait for you" on that piece of paper... he would eventually have to go back and face it.
But not now, he told himself.
Right now, he wasn't strong enough, wasn't stable enough. He needed the peace here to gather enough strength and courage to set foot again on the land that had carried so much pain and complex emotions.
He studied bartending more diligently, learned business knowledge from Gu Yan, and even began to save money quietly. Every time he perfectly shook a drink, every time he properly handled a customer's needs, he felt that he was becoming more solid.
He is like a tree that has experienced a storm. In this rare calm, he strives to take root downwards and grow upwards, waiting for the day when the wind and rain will return.
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