Chapter 45
Shen Hanyang was still holding a wine glass in his hand, most of him hidden in the shadows, with only half of his face illuminated by the light.
The guests in the audience also turned to look at him.
Zhuge Xiaoxiang hurried down the side steps. Upon reaching Shen Hanyang, she apologized, "Mr. Shen, it's a rare treat to have you here. I've been so busy today that I'm completely overwhelmed, and I haven't been able to greet you properly."
Shen Hanyang glanced at the stage, where a girl with a round, apple-like face and big eyes was tilting her head and looking at him curiously.
He turned his head, his gaze lingering for a moment on the fresh and conspicuous acne on the side of Zhuge Xiaoxiang's nose.
"I just happened to be nearby and stumbled in by chance, only to encounter such a wonderful event. It's truly—" Shen Hanyang took a deep breath and said from the bottom of his heart, "This is something to be very happy about."
Zhuge Xiaoxiang rubbed her hands together, flattered, looked around, and took a glass of wine from the nearest table, though she didn't know whose it was: "Thank you. I'm so sorry, I didn't really plan on having a big event, just a small gathering of a few friends... It was my fault for not informing you..."
Just then, the observant Justin came over, nudged Zhuge's elbow, and held out a small bamboo basket. Zhuge realized what was happening and quickly grabbed a handful of something from inside: "It's an honor for us to have President Chen grace us with his presence."
Zhuge held a few colorful candies in his palm with his slightly bent fingers facing upwards.
Shen Hanyang stared at the candies for a long time before chuckling, "Wedding candies? Heh, should I help Yan Qing take some back too?"
Zhuge Xiaoxiang probably hadn't expected Shen Hanyang to suddenly change his expression, and to be so incisive. He opened his mouth in astonishment, but then hesitated to speak. He glanced back at the stage to make sure he hadn't attracted Hu Ruoting's attention before turning back. His face, which had just been radiant and cheerful, suddenly seemed to be weighed down with immense sorrow, and even his eyebrows drooped.
"She...she..."
When Shen Hanyang first saw Zhuge's fiancée, he didn't know who she was. It took him a moment to realize she was a resident singer at Fantland, with a large photo of her playing on the wall near the bar's entrance. He recalled Yan Qing's listless reaction when Zhuge Xiaoxiang was mentioned, and a preliminary hypothesis quickly formed in his mind. Now, Zhuge Xiaoxiang's stammering confirmed his suspicions. His intuition about people was as accurate as ever; he had disliked her from the start. And now, she seemed even more repulsive to him, like the acne on his face.
But he still politely took a few candies from Zhuge's hand.
“Congratulations,” Shen Hanyang raised his glass, “and I’m also glad for Yan Qing. If the bad doesn’t go, how can the good come? Let me tell you, last week she came to teach my son, and a group of my friends were having a gathering at my house. Three or four people asked me about her right there. Among them was the son of a listed company president, and a first-generation tech entrepreneur who graduated from MIT and is making waves in Silicon Valley with his patented technology.” Shen Hanyang leaned forward, deliberately getting close to his ear, and said provocatively and contemptuously, “They are all a hundred times better than you.”
After saying that, Shen Hanyang tilted his head back and drank the wine in one gulp, then threw the empty glass into Justin's small basket of wedding candies. He turned and left the bar amidst Zhuge's bewildered gaze.
Once outside, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Glancing behind him, he saw that the wooden door of the FANTLAND bar was peeling and the light above the entrance was dim, making it look lifeless. Even the name sounded odd. Inside, it was a typical small, cramped place with lots of clutter. The air was stuffy, and the music was deafening. He had been inside for more than ten minutes and was already feeling suffocated.
It started to drizzle outside. The bustling crowds were gone, and the dust on the streets was washed away by the rain. The air was damp and fresh.
He hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. He had successfully completed an important meeting during the day, and the project was progressing smoothly. He left work early in the afternoon without having to work overtime, and the next day was a leisurely Saturday. Shen Hanyang, who was usually a bit of a germaphobe and hated getting wet in the rain, walked in the rain with a sense of ease. The raindrops hit his body, and he breathed in the rain with a sense of joy.
He thought he had to see her today no matter what.
While Shen Hanyang was planning their meeting, Yan Qing was swimming ten laps in the 50-meter lane of the provincial swimming pool. This Friday afternoon was the research group's monthly dinner, but Yan Qing made an excuse not to go. She unusually splurged—she bought a ticket to the provincial swimming pool. With recent rainy days and a drop in temperature, the pool was less crowded, allowing her to enjoy the undisturbed space.
She has neither the money nor the time to pursue extra hobbies, yet her yearning for water has remained unchanged for over a decade. Her love for swimming borders on obsession; even though she rarely goes to the swimming pool these days, she can still feel the unseen ocean beckoning her.
She swam all afternoon at the provincial swimming pool, but still didn't feel tired. She glanced at the digital clock on the wall; it was 6:30. Seeing the crisscrossing streams of water on the huge glass facade, she realized it was raining outside, and she hadn't brought an umbrella. Would the rain get heavier? Would the path be difficult to walk on? She didn't care anymore. With an hour until closing time at 7:30, she decided to go swimming one more time. So she stretched her arms, loosened her waist, and jumped in.
The instant she entered the water, she skillfully broke the boundaries of time, returning to the distant past. The water enveloped her, gently patting her, like a childhood embrace—an embrace that was just as silent, just as cold.
When she was five years old, her mother, Feng Fanying, jumped into the reservoir behind the village, her life ending at the age of thirty-three. Before that, Yan Qing was often called a fatherless wild child by the other children in the village. But after Feng Fanying died, no one called her a wild child anymore, and she became a complete orphan.
The little girl often lingered near the reservoir where her mother had drowned, staring at something, lost in thought. One day, a few mischievous children pushed her into the water. She couldn't swim, and felt the icy water rushing in from all directions, carrying a putrid stench, filling her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. She struggled desperately, thrashing about, choking on countless mouthfuls of water. Just when she thought she was going to die, suddenly all the noise and commotion vanished. The water, which had just been like a ferocious beast, threatening to devour and tear her apart, instantly became gentle, cradle-like, softly supporting and embracing her.
That's how she inexplicably learned to float.
Later, she became convinced that her mother had saved her. As she lay dying, her mother, hidden in the water, appeared like a savior, catching her with her hands. This also explains why she felt so light and relaxed in the water, as if she were sleeping in her mother's arms as a child.
Later, Yan Qing fell in love with swimming in the reservoir. Each time she immersed herself in the icy water, she felt as if she had entered another world—a world of complete mystery and utter silence. She lay there with her eyes open, longing to see her mother's face again in this boundless green expanse.
When nearby villagers saw this, they would always call out to her, "The reservoir is dangerous!"
The well-behaved and sensible girl would promptly surface from the water and loudly reply, "Thank you, Uncle, I'll be right up!" before quickly diving back into the water and disappearing from sight.
Some say there are water ghosts at the bottom of the water, and that swimmers will be captured and eternally imprisoned there. Yan Qing, however, is not afraid at all. She even secretly hopes that the legendary, terrifying water ghost will reach out to her. She firmly believes that there is an exit at the bottom of the water, leading to the place where her mother exists—a blissful universe without pain or longing.
But things didn't go as planned. The less afraid she was, the easier it was for her to float on the surface. She drifted further and further away from the underwater world where her mother was. She knew she would never be swallowed by the cold water, because the act of swimming had become a memory etched into her muscles, beyond her control.
Yan Qing was still enjoying her swim when the swimming pool's announcement that it was closing time came on. Reluctantly, she got out of the water. She quickly showered, but before she could even dry her hair, the short-tempered manager urged her to leave.
When she got out onto the street, the rain was pouring down. She took shelter under the eaves of the stadium for a while before taking out her phone.
My junior sister, whom I rarely chat with alone, sent me a few voice messages.
She clicked play first:
The junior sister's urgent voice was drowned out by the noisy background: "Senior sister, where are you?"
"Senior sister, something big has happened!" The noise became more and more obvious, and the junior sister's voice was sometimes loud and sometimes soft.
"Senior sister, this is really, really, really big! My phone is about to die if you don't reply soon!"
Yan Qing listened to the last voice message several times before piecing together a sentence from her junior sister's fragmented speech: "Okay, 2% battery left, long story short. Guess where we had dinner? Never mind, I'll just say it. A bar on Five Star Street was having a big engagement sale today, 30% off. So we joined the fun and took advantage of the discount. And then guess what we saw? Never mind, I'll just say it anyway. We met..."
The voice call ended there, presumably because the other party's battery had finally run out. However, the content was incomplete, and Yan Qing didn't want to waste time guessing.
Just as she was about to turn off the screen, a new WeChat message from Shen Hanyang popped up at the top of the screen. Yan Qing opened it.
"Wuxing Street is very lively."
The message contained three missed voice calls from him yesterday, which she had missed answering but hadn't replied to afterward. Yan Qing sighed softly, typed "I'm not at school," and clicked send.
The other end immediately called back, and now she seemed to have no reason not to answer.
"I thought you were never going to talk to me again." Shen Hanyang's tone was still ambiguous, three parts joking and three parts serious, but there was a noticeable graininess in his voice.
Yan Qing thought she would say something sarcastic, but for some inexplicable reason, she blurted out, "You... have a cold?"
The person on the other end coughed twice. "I just had a glass of cheap liquor. I'm fine."
He sounded like he was laughing.
Outside the eaves, the wind suddenly picked up, whipping the raindrops against her face. A chill ran through Yan Qing, and her mind cleared: "If there's nothing else, I'll..."
“Something’s happened, and it’s very important,” Shen Hanyang said preemptively. “It’s something you didn’t finish handing over at the company. Tell me where you are.”
Shen Hanyang's seriousness startled Yan Qing, and she gave him her location in a daze.
Shen Hanyang said, "I've come to pick you up."
Traffic was congested due to the rain, and Yan Qing estimated it would take him a while to arrive. A large plaza separated the provincial swimming pool from the main road, and private cars weren't allowed in. She sent Shen Hanyang a message, asking him to let her know when he was almost there, and that she would wait for him by the roadside.
I quickly received a reply: "Find a place to hide and don't get wet in the rain."
Autumn arrived suddenly this year, with temperatures plummeting at an unprecedented rate. When Yan Qing arrived, she was only wearing a thin T-shirt, and the chilly wind seeped into her collar, causing her to break out in a layer of tiny rashes.
She pulled her arms together, looked up, and felt the leaden sky pressing low over her head.
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