Chapter 35
At lunchtime, the cafeteria was packed with people. Six standing air conditioners were operating at full capacity, blowing out cool air, but they were still no match for the sweltering heat that kept pouring in from outside.
Gu Feimeng bought cold dishes, braised duck parts, and rolled pancakes, while Yan Qing bought a bowl of mung bean porridge and a side dish. The two of them didn't want to join the crowd and carried their lunch back to the dormitory.
As soon as she entered the dormitory, Gu Feimeng immediately stripped down to her underwear, her sweaty back facing the air conditioner vent: "So refreshing."
"Be careful not to catch a cold," Yan Qing reminded her.
"I'm not cold, I'm burning with anger. That bastard Wang Yongxing, I heard him spouting nonsense before I even entered your lab. If you hadn't stopped me, I would have taught him a lesson."
Feeling refreshed by the cold wind, Gu Feimeng grabbed a duck neck and started gnawing on it, spitting out bones as she asked, "By the way, is that Shen Hanyang really interested in you?"
Yan Qing drank her mung bean porridge, her head bowed low, her voice even softer: "It's just a rumor."
Gu Feimeng seemed not to hear her denial and asked again, "Then what about the great Zhuge?"
"What do you mean, what should we do? We have nothing between us."
"You have nothing with whom? Zhuge?"
Yan Qing paused, holding the spoon, before realizing the ambiguity in her words.
Gu Feimeng tossed the gnawed duck neck bone into the trash can, then picked out a duck collarbone. The rich aroma of Sichuan peppercorns filled her mouth, the chili simultaneously stimulating her pain and triggering tears. She exhaled through slits, pulling out a tissue to wipe her tears and blow her nose. "Actually, neither of them is bad. They're both good-looking and have great figures. It's hard to choose between fish and bear's paw. So you have to listen to your heart. Here's a question for you: which of these two would you rather sleep with?"
"You're too blunt," Yan Qing said, lowering her head to drink her porridge, refusing to answer.
Gu Feimeng glared at her: "What's there to be ashamed of? Just say whoever you're thinking of." Seeing that Yan Qing didn't respond for a long time, she had no choice but to give in: "Alright, I have another trick." She quickly stuffed the remaining half of the crepe into her mouth, casually tore off a piece of paper from her notebook, folded it in half, cut it open, wrote the names of Zhuge Xiaoxiang and Shen Hanyang on it, and spread it out on the table.
Yan Qing stared blankly at the paper with their names on it, wondering what Gu Feimeng was up to.
Gu Feimeng said, “Now, close your eyes and imagine you are standing in the pitch-black night, with ruins beneath your feet. A torrential rain is falling, and you are cold, helpless, and afraid. Then, a man appears and pulls you into his arms with a domineering CEO-style embrace. The next second, you feel his burning lips! This kiss is like a thunderbolt striking a prairie fire; Cupid, who had run away, has found his lost girl again. Cupid's arrow pierces your heart, and you know that the person you've been waiting for has arrived. You reach out and touch his face—his jawline, his nose, his brow… You trace his features with your fingertips, clearer than if you saw them with your own eyes…”
Gu Feimeng's performance was so passionate that her Shakespearean tone echoed throughout the dormitory.
Suddenly, her voice trailed off, uttering a soul-searching question: "Tell me, who is he?"
Yan Qing was still lingering in the virtual world she had created, unable to detach herself for the time being.
Gu Feimeng had already pushed one of the papers in front of her: "The answer is revealed."
The three characters, their strokes straight and powerful, pierced the fog in Yan Qing's eyes like swords and spears. She snapped out of her daze and exclaimed in surprise, "But I didn't say anything..."
"No words are needed; your reaction says it all. When I asked you, your eyes immediately drifted to Shen Hanyang's name without hesitation. This behavior truly reflects your inner subconscious—the person you want to sleep with is him." After saying this, Gu Feimeng wiped her hands on the half of the paper with Zhuge Xiaoxiang's name written on it, crumpled it up, and threw it into the trash can.
Yan Qing finally came to her senses: "When did you learn to be a fortune teller?"
“This is called psychology.” Gu Feimeng leaned closer and asked with a smile, “Tell me, am I accurate or not?”
Yan Qing's face flushed, and she said guiltily, "There's no basis for it; it's completely untenable."
Gu Feimeng sat back in her chair, scrutinizing Yan Qing with an air of knowing her thoughts, a look that made Yan Qing feel a little uneasy.
"I don't understand you anymore," Gu Feimeng said vaguely.
Yan Qing gripped the spoon tightly, afraid that Gu Feimeng would say something she dreaded hearing.
Gu Feimeng then said in a tone of exasperation, "Why do you have to choose one of the two? Wouldn't it be better to have both and enjoy the bliss of having two wives?"
Yan Qing rolled her eyes at her.
Gu Feimeng had no idea how much of a shock her half-joking words had caused Yan Qing, to the point that Yan Qing used the excuse of taking out the trash to hide in the stairwell and calm herself down.
Leaning against the cool wall, Yan Qing recalled Gu Feimeng's words. She didn't really believe that a single glance could reveal one's subconscious, but she knew that when Gu Feimeng presented the answer to her, she did feel a moment of bewilderment.
It was that less than three seconds of mental blankness that left her deeply frightened.
Has Shen Hanyang finally eroded her bit by bit, like some kind of virus? Have the principles and bottom lines she has always upheld begun to crack without her even realizing it? She suddenly realized that she was not dealing with an ordinary person. Shen Hanyang was far more terrifying than ordinary people; he had the appearance of a gentleman but the heart of a wolf, and he was full of endless schemes and tricks. Even she herself was not sure if she could escape unscathed if she continued to be entangled with him like this.
After all, Zhang Linjing and Wu Yanying are living examples of what should have happened.
She witnessed Zhang Linjing lose her mind and dignity, pleading for mercy; she saw Wu Yanying's eyes constantly brimming with unrealistic fantasies; and Shen Hanyang merely watched all of this indifferently, then decisively severed ties with them. This man was all show and no substance. He only cared about his own pleasure; the lives of others were of no concern to him.
Thinking about all this, she felt even more disgusted with Shen Hanyang's behavior.
Back in her dorm, she glanced instinctively at the wardrobe, where the gift Shen Hanyang had given her was kept. A sudden, deep disgust washed over her—disgust at Shen Hanyang's selfishness, and disgust at her own indecisiveness.
But Shen Hanyang probably didn't think he was that awful, and he even had the nerve to call.
Yan Qing was in a bad mood, and she vented all her anger on the phone: "Can't you live a day without bothering me? Please, have some mercy and stop calling. There are already rumors going around at school."
"About you and me?" Shen Hanyang smiled with great interest. "What did you say?"
Yan Qing retorted angrily, "What's so funny? You've already caused me trouble!"
Shen Hanyang remained calm and composed, saying, "If you don't treat it as a rumor, you won't have so much trouble."
Yan Qing felt utterly powerless against his robber logic, and after gathering all her strength, she finally gave up. She said wearily, "President Chen, please be merciful. I don't have time to play games with you."
Shen Hanyang did not respond directly, but changed the subject: "Let's go pick up Qiao Yi together tomorrow. The consultation is scheduled for the day after tomorrow."
Yan Qing felt she had exhausted all her arguments, but Shen Hanyang remained unmoved. Finally, she couldn't hold back any longer and exploded: "Can you please stop interfering in my life? Let me tell you the truth, I hate people like you the most—stubborn, self-willed, and utterly lacking in empathy. I'm trying to avoid you, so don't even dream of agreeing to your shameless conditions!"
After a long, intense exchange, there was a prolonged silence on the other end. Just as she was about to press the hang-up button, Shen Hanyang's voice came through again, still calm and showing no sign of anger: "If you don't like me doing this, I'll listen to you."
Yan Qing was taken aback. She wasn't quite sure what this meant, and tentatively asked, "You promised me you wouldn't..." She hesitated, then replaced "harassment" with a near-synonym, "...wouldn't contact me again?"
"I'll do whatever you say," Shen Hanyang said.
Yan Qing was surprised that he agreed so easily and readily, and even found it hard to believe.
"Really?" she asked.
"Um."
Yan Qing thought to himself, this "hmm" shouldn't be a delaying tactic. After all, for someone like him, finding a young and beautiful girl to fall in love with is as easy as breathing. Why would he go to such lengths to waste his energy on someone who keeps contradicting him?
She felt a huge weight lifted from her shoulders, and her tone completely changed: "Thank you for your understanding. I also apologize for my attitude just now. I hope my rudeness will not affect the cooperation between Huanyu and Teacher Huang."
"Of course not, I'd like to ask you to put in a lot of effort for the project," Shen Hanyang said. The two instantly switched from a complicated, entangled relationship to a client-vendor relationship. Shen Hanyang's official attitude reassured Yan Qing.
"Don't worry, I will do my best," she said sincerely.
After hanging up Shen Hanyang's call, Yan Qing felt a long-lost sense of relief.
She had wanted to visit Hu Ruoting for several days, but she had been preoccupied with worries and hadn't had the energy. Today, finally free from this turmoil, she went to the fruit market without a care in the world and picked out a few large, crisp, white peaches. She also went to the supermarket and bought a bottle of loquat syrup. Hu Ruoting had said it was good for the throat, and she often used it to make a drink that tasted better than plain water.
Inpatient Department of the First Hospital of S City.
Yan Qing remembered that Zhuge Xiaoxiang had mentioned that Hu Ruoting was staying in the fifth ward. To get to the fifth ward from the outpatient building, one had to pass through the inpatient department garden. The government had invested a considerable amount of money in this new hospital in S City; the garden alone occupied a large area, complete with flowers, birds, ponds, fish, pavilions, and terraces. If one didn't see the surrounding buildings and the white coats and patient gowns moving about, one would easily mistake it for the garden of a wealthy family.
The last time she came here was to consult about Qiao Yi's condition. The doctor's conclusion left her feeling down, and she walked into the garden alone, but had no heart to appreciate the scenery.
This time, she deliberately avoided the main road and took a cobblestone path through the garden. The winding path led her as she strolled among the lush flowers and trees.
The more she looked, the more she felt that the garden's designer was truly great. In a place filled with disease, pain, and death, in the most vulnerable place of humanity, to use silent, resilient, and vibrant plants to sweep away the shadows of fear and sorrow, and to support hope and courage, is undoubtedly the most simple yet profound wisdom in the world.
Where green plants gather, oxygen becomes exceptionally abundant, and every breath inhaled feels like a baptism that sweeps away the old and welcomes the new. She slowed her pace, reluctant to leave this place too soon.
She stopped by the pond to watch the carp for a while. Some were golden-spotted, others red-spotted, all plump and chubby. A child in a hospital gown tossed pieces of broken bread into the pond, and a large school of carp swam over in a grand procession, vying for the food.
Yan Qing smiled. The fat fish was still easy to fool. It was so stupid that it was satisfied with just a few crumbs of steamed bun. It was quite content even when it was imprisoned in the pond.
Continuing forward and turning a corner, Yan Qing unexpectedly saw Hu Ruoting and Zhuge Xiaoxiang sitting opposite each other in a pavilion not far away. Several lunchboxes were placed on the stone table between them. Yan Qing recognized them; Zhuge had used the same set of lunchboxes to bring her food when she had a fever.
Zhuge Xiaoxiang seemed to be saying something, and Hu Ruoting seemed angry. She slammed her hand on the table, stood up, and was about to leave. Zhuge stopped her under the pavilion.
Hu Ruoting turned her back to him and began to wipe away her tears.
Yan Qing, with his 150-degree myopia, couldn't see Zhuge Xiaoxiang's expression clearly at this distance, but judging from his slightly twitching shoulder, he must have been sighing.
Hu Ruoting seemed to be crying very sadly, which reminded Yan Qing of the first time she met her. At the same time and in the same place, Hu Ruoting was wearing a loose hospital gown, pale and weak, like a stunted little sparrow.
Just as Yan Qing hesitated whether to go up and persuade him, she saw Hu Ruoting suddenly turn around, throw herself into Zhuge Xiaoxiang's arms, stand on tiptoe, hook her arms around his broad back, and cover his face with her cascading black hair.
Yes, she was kissing him.
Zhuge Xiaoxiang seemed stunned, standing motionless in a stiff posture. However, after a short while, his arms slowly came together, tightly embracing that small, thin body in front of his chest.
A layer of daylight disappeared below the horizon, and the surroundings grew darker. Weary birds returning to their nests hid among the lush foliage. From an unknown place came the soft, mournful sound of a woman's sobbing.
Plants accept everything equally, accepting life and death, joy and sorrow, but they remain silent.
This is a secret garden.
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