Chapter 33
When Tang Yuchuan returned home, the night had completely engulfed the world outside the window.
The door lock clicked gently, and the light in the living room revealed a soft warm color, which formed a sharp contrast with the coldness wrapped around him.
Zou Ping, perhaps hearing the door open, emerged from the room, a paintbrush in hand. The color of the paint tip stood out against the light. Her expression was calm, even casual, though her slightly trembling fingertips betrayed a hint of nervousness.
"Are you drawing?" Tang Yuchuan spoke. His voice was not loud, but it was like a small stone falling into the water, creating shallow ripples.
"Yeah." Zou Ping answered softly, and no emotion could be heard from her answer.
"Will you show me?"
"It's not finished yet..." She paused and added, "If you don't mind."
"Of course I don't mind."
Zou Ping stepped aside and led him to the easel. On the canvas, the entire city seemed to be suffocated by silence—the tall buildings lost their warmth amidst the overlay of gray-blue and dark purple, mist overflowed from the street corners like a tide, and the streetlights flickered helplessly, like fireflies swaying in the wind.
She sat down again, her fingers flicking across the palette.
The movement seemed random, but it seemed calculated.
She dipped a touch of light red and painted it on the edge of the gray city. The red was like a drop of blood splashed in the cold world.
Will Tang Yuchuan notice? Will he understand her hints, or will he resolve everything with gentle silence as usual?
Everything that happened today made her almost breathless.
A strange man took her to see his mother. His mother took out a paternity test report and told her in person that she was not his and her father's biological daughter... Combined with the mother's face that she could never see clearly in the dream, and the violence of her father in the past, her mother's evasion... everything seemed to be natural.
And Tang Yuchuan... he had known all this for a long time, and might even have calculated every move before even approaching her. His care and tenderness might just be a piece in his chess game.
Zou Ping paused her brush on the canvas, wiping away the excess paint before adding a shadow at the end of the street. Within the shadow stood a tiny figure, leaning slightly forward, as if waiting—or perhaps holding on hopelessly.
Her eyes flicked to Tang Yuchuan. He stood behind her, his coat draped over his arm, his features composed. His posture resembled the tall buildings in her paintings, giving her an undeniable sense of security, yet also making her wonder if that sense of security was merely an illusion created by distance.
She suddenly spoke, her tone light and casual, but her sharpness was hidden between the words: "I swiped your card today, 80,000 yuan. Did you receive the text message?"
"I didn't notice." Tang Yuchuan's voice remained calm, but the subtle changes between his eyebrows revealed his concern.
Today was an overly busy day, and he had indeed not noticed the text message reminder. But he noticed that from the paintings to the people, Zou Ping and everything about Zou Ping tonight exuded an unusual aura.
Her condition was very different from usual, but Tang Yuchuan couldn't figure out what was different.
The brief silence was like an invisible fog, shrouding the two of them.
The light fell on the canvas, and the soft reflection passed over the bright red, like a flame frozen in an instant.
"Don't you have anything to say to me?" It was Zou Ping who broke the silence first. Her voice was gentle, but like a hidden knife, probing and cutting.
Tang Yuchuan paused slightly, his eyes like the deep sea: "Since it's given to you, you can spend it as you like."
"Don't you want to ask where the flowers are?" She took a step closer, her tone smiling but not relaxed at all.
She had heard too much from that strange man.
Tang Yuchuan knew her background and knew that she did not belong there. This apartment was probably just a fantasy he had created to trap himself.
The strange man said that Tang Yuchuan wanted to use money to trap her and make her a canary, a substitute for Bai Yueguang, so he concealed her life experience. She was originally a child from a wealthy family.
These words were like a stone thrown into the already turbulent lake of her heart, causing all her doubts to surface instantly.
She didn't know when she started to feel that there was something strange about Tang Yuchuan. The guilt and restraint revealed in his gentleness did not seem like simple consideration.
But when the strange man pieced all these together into a story of "captivity", she felt an inexplicable sense of security.
Rather than feeling at ease, she grasped at a temporary logic to resist the feeling of being out of control. That logic wasn't warm, but at least it allowed her to explain those tiny clues: Tang Yuchuan's silence, his caution, and the occasional alienation and guilt he showed.
But at the same time, she instinctively resisted this logic.
Because in every detail of their interactions, Tang Yuchuan didn't seem like someone who was trying to control others.
He respected her choices, never crossed the line, and never forced her.
There was no relationship between them as others imagined, no substantial possession, and no hint of transaction.
She was the one who knew best about the so-called relationship between them. She was the one who first expressed her love for him and took the initiative to approach him time and time again.
So, the captivity claim seemed to her both a malicious provocation and a cover to cover up a bigger secret.
She couldn't help but suspect that Tang Yuchuan's guilt had other reasons, and she hadn't yet touched upon the real reason.
What is Tang Yuchuan hiding?
She suddenly realized that what she feared more than money and background was that the man in front of her might never really let her into his world.
What is Tang Yuchuan hiding?
He never explained, but a fleeting contradiction flashed through his eyes every time they met.
And at this moment, what she wanted to confirm was not the money or her background, but how much of this relationship was real, and how much was an illusion maintained out of his guilt?
Will they... have a future? Does he like her at all?
Tang Yuchuan didn't dodge and asked her, "Are you willing to tell me?"
"I met a little girl with a disability but a strong will, weaving bracelets on the street corner." She said lightly, but her eyes were fixed on him, as if she was looking for even the slightest crack in his face. "I wanted to help her, so I bought her two bracelets for 80,000 yuan and even drew a picture for her."
Tang Yuchuan's gaze lingered on her face for a moment, as if trying to decipher her true intentions. Finally, he nodded: "I think this is meaningful." He paused, his tone as steady as a pool of deep water, "Can I see your painting?"
"I drew it for her." Zou Ping said calmly, but she tightened her fingertips in her heart.
"Next time, you can keep the painting, take a photo, record a video, and keep it as a souvenir." Tang Yuchuan said this in a low voice, with a rationality that was almost gentle to the point of cruelty. "Life is unpredictable. Many times, some traces are necessary to remind us of where we came from."
"Okay," Zou Ping agreed, her lips slightly raised, seemingly calm. But her heart suddenly tightened at that moment - she was not sure whether he was truly unaware or had seen through everything and was just using this gentle and restrained way to prevent her from escaping.
"I met a little girl with a disability but a strong will, weaving bracelets on the street corner." She said lightly, but her eyes were fixed on him, as if she was looking for even the slightest crack in his face. "I wanted to help her, so I bought her two bracelets for 80,000 yuan and even drew a picture for her."
Tang Yuchuan's gaze lingered on her face for a moment, as deep as an underground river under the snow, so quiet that it was hard to tell whether it was gentle or dangerous.
After a long while, he slowly nodded, his voice so gentle that it was almost without any edges: "This kind of thing is meaningful."
He paused, speaking softly as if he was afraid to disturb the night, and asked, "Can I see the painting?"
"I gave the painting to her." Zou Ping's tone remained calm, but her fingers unconsciously tightened around the edge of the palette.
Tang Yuchuan tilted his head slightly. "If you like, you can take a photo next time, or record a song or video... leave a little trace. The world is so big, and people are so small. Often, the things we think we will remember are actually swallowed up by time in the blink of an eye. Only those insignificant traces can remind us where we have been and who we have met. They are all real, not dreams."
"Okay." Zou Ping responded softly, but her fingers tightened at her sides, as if she was holding something invisible.
A brief silence stretched out between the two of them again, with only the car lights outside the window flickering, like the pulse of a distant city.
She suddenly raised her head, her voice so soft that it was almost swallowed by the night: "Tang Yuchuan, are you dreaming?"
Tang Yuchuan was stunned, his eyebrows twitched slightly, but he did not answer immediately.
She lowered her eyes and smiled, "Sometimes I feel like if I close my eyes I'll wake up. This apartment, these days... including you, are all fake."
Tang Yuchuan slowly took two steps closer, his shadow falling at her feet. His voice was gentle and steady: "If I am a dream, are you afraid of waking up?"
"I'm scared." She said frankly, but her tone was like a sharp knife, cutting through the air, "Because once I open my eyes, there's nothing left."
Tang Yuchuan looked at her quietly for a moment, his voice low and soft: "No. Dreams will end, but you will not disappear just because you wake up. No matter whether everything around you is true or false, you are still you, complete and meaningful."
He walked closer and stood before her, his shadow overlapping hers. His tone was firm but not coercive: "Even if one day you open your eyes and find that the world has changed, you are not completely lost. You have yourself - your memories, your talent, your breath. No one can take these away."
"What about you?" Zou Ping's voice was very soft, as if she was afraid of disturbing something or breaking something.
She raised her head and felt Tang Yuchuan's gaze meet hers.
"I will change too," he whispered, his words slow and solemn. "Some things will leave me, some will be worn away by time. But one thing will never change... true or false, as long as you need me, I will always be here."
Zou Ping met Tang Yuchuan's eyes, those eyes that seemed to hold a secret, and she suddenly felt that truth and falsehood, dreams, shadows... none of them mattered anymore. She just wanted to grasp the present moment, to grasp this very moment.
Her heart was beating fast. She closed her eyes, stood on tiptoe, and gently pressed her lips against Tang Yuchuan's. The air seemed to be sucked out of her in an instant, and the only sounds in the world were the two of them breathing and their heartbeats.
Her hands reached out and gently wrapped around his shoulders, trying to pull him close, trying to make this moment more real, more clear.
Don't think about tomorrow, don't doubt him, and don't doubt yourself.
However, when she closed her eyes, expecting a response, Tang Yuchuan simply leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, as gentle as an autumn breeze, yet without a trace of fiery possession. He didn't touch her for the intimacy she desired, but simply reached out to pull the blanket next to her and cover her.
Zou Ping opened her eyes, only to see him still standing calmly beside her.
A strange feeling welled up in her heart - a mixture of warmth and loneliness. She couldn't tell whether she should be happy or disappointed; whether she should be moved or depressed.
She bit her lip, her fingertips unconsciously clenching the edge of the blanket.
Tang Yuchuan's eyes were still calm, as if he could see through her heart, but he didn't disturb her. He just accompanied her silently, like a presence that was both near and far away.
At this moment, Zou Ping suddenly felt clearly again: she liked him.
He just stood there and she knew for sure once again that she liked him.
Because her heartbeat slowly quickened, a little warm, a little flustered, but without a sharp, stinging sensation, just like the surface of water swaying in circles in a breeze. She bit her lip lightly, her fingertips sliding along the blanket, as if this would confirm that he was really by her side.
At this moment, I like clarity and directness, and no longer worry about truth or falsehood.
Zou Ping leaned against the headboard, her fingertips gently stroking the edge of the quilt. "Tomorrow night...what do you want me to wear?"
She paused, then continued, "Secretary Chen picked out several dresses for me...all in the blue color you like."
She pursed her lips, as if testing the waters: "But I've got my eye on a red dress."
After she finished speaking, her gaze lingered on Tang Yuchuan, trying to catch his first reaction.
Tang Yuchuan looked at her, his eyes calm and deep, like a lake shrouded in the darkness, not even the surging air could disturb it. His words were simple, but like a warm lamp placed in the night: "The dress is yours, so of course I chose the one you like."
Zou Ping's gaze lingered on him, as if measuring the weight of his words. The light in the room was subdued, shadows slowly lengthening on the wall, and every breath carried a subtle chill in the night. She suddenly felt as if all her tension had been gently dissipated by these words, and the oppression in her heart slowly dissipated a little.
Tang Yuchuan added: "Don't be so cautious, don't think about what I like, just be yourself, no matter where you are."
His voice was not loud, but it was like a whisper in the night, flowing in the air of the room, making people unconsciously slow down their pace.
Zou Ping leaned against the headboard, her shoulders slightly relaxed, her fingers gently stroking the edge of the quilt, and the tension in her heart finally loosened. The night came like a tide, bringing a slight chill, but making her feel safe.
Suddenly, a feeling of fatigue surged up from her chest, as if the night had swallowed up all her remaining strength. She blinked and realized that her nerves, which had been tense all day, suddenly relaxed.
"I know. I want to sleep." She said softly, her voice so low as if wrapped in the night, with a hint of relief.
Tang Yuchuan nodded slightly, his eyes gentle, his voice low and clear: "Have a good rest, don't let your imagination run wild, good night."
He said, then walked gently to the switch and pressed the light button.
The room suddenly fell into a soft darkness, with only scattered city lights outside the window filtering in.
Then, he walked to the door, gently pushed it open and left, then quietly watched from outside. The whole movement was calm and natural, but with a hint of silent protection, as if building a warm and untouchable barrier around Zou Ping.
The only thing left in the room was the night and the faint light outside the window. The air became quiet, with a soft residual warmth.
Zou Ping leaned against the head of the bed, closed her eyes, and felt this rare peace. She rarely had a moment when she could not think about anything.
Letting her shoulders slowly sink, Zou Ping felt as if her whole body was being held up by the night.
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