The moment the call connected, Mu Xinrong could hear his own pounding heartbeat, like drumbeats hitting his eardrums. Ye Qingliu's "Hello" was hoarse, fresh from waking, but it sounded remarkably lucid amidst the throbbing of electricity, as if he had been waiting for a long time.
"I..." His tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, the bitterness of coffee suddenly rising to his throat. His memory flashed back to that rainy night in the old house. Chao Youye squatted before him, picking away spiderwebs. The candlelight stained her profile a warm gold, her eyelashes casting tiny shadows under her eyes, like a butterfly fluttering its wings.
The air fell into a brief silence...
"Mu Xinrong..."
Ye Qingliu was calling his name on the other end.
"I'm sorry Qingliu, I called you so late, I have a question for you."
"Go ahead."
"If you meet someone you like one day, what will you do?"
The moment the words came out of his mouth, Mu Xinrong saw his reflection in the glass and his shoulders trembled slightly like a frightened animal.
There was a rustling sound of fabric rubbing against each other from the other end of the phone, as if Ye Qingliu had turned over.
Mu Xinrong heard the other person chuckle and inhale, and his voice suddenly dropped an octave: "He made her lose her job and her home, deceived her family, made them sever ties with her, and then shattered her faith, making all her efforts come to nothing..."
"Wait, this is too—"
"Finally, make her believe that you are the only one who understands her, supports her, and becomes her only belief, then she will accept you." Ye Qingliu's ending tone carried a certain cynical drawl, and in the background there was a faint rustling sound of a pen scratching on paper.
Mu Xinrong stared at the steam vent on the coffee machine, where a fine white mist was rising, much like the white mist from Chao Youye's winter breath. He suddenly remembered what she had said: "Drinking too much coffee can cause hallucinations."
At this moment, the cold sweat on his palms reminded him that this was not an illusion, but a real, burning, suffocating heartbeat.
"It's horrible." He heard his own voice with a trembling smile, and his fingers unconsciously stroked the rim of the coffee cup, where there was a tiny crack, which looked very much like the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled at Youye.
Mu Xinrong was completely annoyed: Is this something an ordinary person could come up with? What is my friend thinking?
Ye Qingliu suddenly laughed out loud, the sound passing through the electricity, and seemed particularly clear in the silent night: "I was just kidding you..."
"What should I do then?"
"Think about it yourself. My advice is to let nature take its course."
Ye Qingliu hung up after saying this.
"Hello……?"
Mu Xinrong couldn't help but twitch his lips after the call was hung up. This was equivalent to saying nothing...
Mu Xinrong looked at the coffee swaying in the cup and suddenly remembered the diary in the old house.
The child who was never redeemed drew a butterfly with broken wings on the last page, and the scar on Chao Youye's mouth was exactly the same as the shape in the painting.
The moon outside the window finally broke free from the buildings and spread its cold light over the desk.
Mu Xinrong took out the photo album from the drawer. The first page was a photo of Chao Youye taken on the top of the mountain. The other party was standing in front of the sea of clouds and looking back, with purple eyes filled with rosy clouds.
Today, Mu Xinrong is still lost on the road of emotions...
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