Chapter 55
At lunchtime, long queues formed again in front of the various windows of the Meiyuan canteen at L University. Gu Feimeng and Yan Qing were at the end of the line. Gu Feimeng was starving and stood on tiptoe to look at the front, estimating how long they would have to wait.
"I won't be able to eat Meiyuan's steamed pork ribs after graduation," Gu Feimeng said wistfully. "I love Meiyuan's steamed pork ribs the most. The glutinous rice is translucent, chewy, and fragrant without being greasy. There's also the huge casserole for eight yuan, the peanut shaved ice for three and a half yuan, and the spicy braised beef tendon..." She swallowed a big mouthful of saliva, looked up to the sky and sighed, "Once you've eaten at L University's cafeteria, it's hard to love any other cafeteria. It's definitely a case of 'once you've seen the ocean, other waters are nothing,' an unforgettable white moonlight!"
Yan Qing comforted her, "I heard that the school issues alumni cards, so you can still enter the school after graduation."
Mentioning the alumni card, Gu Feimeng said with a hint of resentment, "You don't know, do you? Alumni cards are only for outstanding alumni, like you, a shoo-in for this year's top graduate. A lazy bum like me can only sigh in vain." Gu Feimeng kissed her still-serving campus card. "I really wish I could stay at school a little longer. My dear L University, I'll miss you, I'll miss your cafeteria, your lecture halls, your library, and of course, most of all, I'll miss Five Star Street, the 100-yuan manicures, the shops selling high-quality knock-off designer clothes, the little bars..."
Yan Qing suddenly remembered someone she had forgotten for a long time—Zhuge Xiaoxiang. He often came to the school for walks using his alumni card. After those things happened, Yan Qing never saw him on the playground again.
Last week, Yan Qing passed by Wuxing Street and accidentally discovered that the original location of the FANTLAND bar had been turned into a Korean restaurant.
Gu Feimeng didn't know that Zhuge Xiaoxiang was the owner of FANTLAND. Yan Qing casually asked, "Why is that popular little bar on Five Star Street closed?"
"You mean Fantland? You haven't seen the forums, have you? They got accused of selling counterfeit alcohol, and it caused quite a stir. Their main customers are students from the surrounding schools, who are known for their righteousness, but also for being stingy. Trying to sell them counterfeit alcohol and cheat them out of their money is like dancing on a tiger's tail! So the students boycotted them, and they had to close down!"
Yan Qing knew Zhuge's character to some extent. Although he lacked responsibility in relationships, he wasn't so despicable as to sell counterfeit alcohol. Besides, she belatedly realized that the bar was basically for Hu Ruoting, who was studying vocal music at a music academy; FANDTLANT was essentially giving her a stage to perform. How could he allow his beloved to face such a shameful situation?
So who was behind FANTLAND's bankruptcy...? A suspicion began to form in Yan Qing's mind...
"That spineless Chen Jing is begging to get back together again!" Gu Feimeng's irritated voice pulled Yan Qing back to reality. She angrily complained into her phone, "How can there be such a shameless person? I've already blocked him completely, yet he still uses his mother's phone number to message me! Qingqing, do you know, last week he came to apologize, crying and begging, acting so convincingly, I almost thought he'd really reformed! Who knew this scoundrel had a lisp? I found out he's just having trouble at work, under financial pressure, and has his eye on my uncle's property! I've mentioned my uncle to you before, right? He's never married. Before, when Chen Jing and I were still together, he told me in front of Chen Jing that I should take care of him in his old age, and that his two houses would be mine. When I found out the truth, I gave Chen Jing a thorough dressing-down!"
Yan Qing chimed in at the opportune moment: "How did you curse?"
“I said, ‘Chen, how can you be so shameless? You have no skills whatsoever, you're just a freeloader! You've been freeloading since the first day we started dating! You freeload at our school cafeteria, you freeload at my rent, and what else? I don't need to tell you, you know, right? Chen Jing, if this weren't a harmonious society, I would have crushed your soft egg to pieces with my eight-centimeter heels!’”
Reflecting on her brilliant double entendre, Gu Feimeng felt much better, and even her hunger didn't seem so unbearable anymore. Inspiration flowed freely, and seizing the opportunity, she picked up her phone, typed out a new insult, and sent it to Chen Jing's mother's number.
Yan Qing's thoughts drifted away, and she muttered to herself, "Love really is unreliable."
“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Gu Feimeng said as she typed. “For every bad man, there is a good man.”
"You can know a person's face but not their heart. How can you tell a man's true nature?"
“It’s simple,” Gu Feimeng said shrewdly. “See if he’s willing to spend money on you, if he can tolerate your worst side, and if he puts himself in your shoes and helps you solve your urgent problems.”
"It's so hard to figure out."
Gu Feimeng's fingers, which were passionately creating, suddenly paused, and she looked up thoughtfully. Yan Qing's eyelashes were half-closed, completely unaware of Gu Feimeng's scrutiny.
"Who asked you to rack your brains? Shen Hanyang, isn't it?"
The name, like a fleeting glint of light on a sword's blade, gently pierced Yan Qing's brief reverie, and she let out a soft "Ah."
"Ahem..." Yan Qing coughed twice, pretending not to hear, and changed the subject: "What do you want to eat today?"
The phone rang promptly. Yan Qing felt like she'd been granted a pardon and quickly picked up the phone.
Caller ID: Shen Hanyang...
Gu Feimeng winked mischievously: "A good man is calling, you two chat, I promise I won't eavesdrop." With that, she turned away with a grin.
Yan Qing hesitated for a moment with her phone in her hand, then pressed the mute button.
After queuing at the window, Gu Feimeng and Yan Qing each got their food. After wandering around for a while, they finally found two adjacent empty seats. After putting down their plates and phones, Yan Qing said, "I'll go get us some soup."
The free soup station was located diagonally across the cafeteria. Gu Feimeng answered the phone by herself as she weaved through the crowd.
"Yunhe, right? Just a moment, I'll be there soon!"
Yan Qing asked in confusion, "Aren't you going to eat?"
Gu Feimeng chuckled and pushed the phone back in front of her: "It's for you. We're meeting at Yunhe."
Yan Qing then realized that she had just answered her own phone... the call log showed Shen Hanyang...
Before Yan Qing could roll her eyes like darts, Gu Feimeng preemptively placed a plate of shredded potatoes and a plate of stir-fried snow peas from Yan Qing's plate in front of her: "I'll help you with this little problem, and I promise we won't waste any food. You should go now so as not to keep them waiting."
Gu Feimeng urged her on repeatedly, and Yan Qing felt a mix of emotions. She took back her share of shredded potatoes and ate them in silence.
Gu Feimeng scratched her head: "Why aren't you leaving yet?"
"I didn't agree to go."
"But I already promised them on your behalf."
"I have something to do later."
Yan Qing was going to the hospital. Last month, the doctor told her that Qiao Yi could no longer undergo surgery and gently advised her to spend more time with the patient.
In the ward, Qiao Yi vomited violently, bitter bile being pumped up by his spasming stomach, spraying everywhere. Yan Qing frantically cleaned him up for nearly an hour before she was almost done. Because this distressing situation was happening more and more frequently, Yan Qing had become able to handle it calmly, no longer experiencing the initial panic.
Exhausted from the ordeal, Qiao Yi leaned against the headboard. His eyesight had deteriorated significantly, everything appearing blurry and indistinct. On the desk by the window, the laptop lay open, a thin layer of dust clinging to the keyboard—it hadn't been touched by its owner in a long time, simply lying dormant. Qiao Yi's open eyes, like the dormant computer screen, were empty and lifeless, devoid of any content.
Besides Qiao Yi's vomit, the floor was covered in Yan Qing's tears, one by one. But the tears were so light, so tiny, that they disappeared completely into the brown bile. Yan Qing finished mopping the floor before taking out a tissue to wipe her tears. Now, she could cry without restraint, as long as she didn't make a sound, she wouldn't be noticed.
"Girl," Qiao Yi judged from the swaying shadow that Yan Qing had walked to the bedside, and he patted the edge of the bed weakly, "Don't cry."
Yan Qing glanced back; Qiao Yi was lying face up, her unfocused eyes still staring aimlessly at the ceiling. She had forgotten that people with poor eyesight often have heightened hearing; her heavy breathing had already betrayed her true emotions.
Feeling annoyed at being exposed, Yan Qing decided to make a very sarcastic joke: "What, did you see me cry?" Her nasal tone was unmistakable as soon as she spoke.
Qiao Yi's wrinkled lips parted into a smile: "You know, I've been having a lot of dreams lately, dreams about an incredibly handsome man, just like the dashing prince in my novels. He told me..." His words were interrupted by a sharp headache. Qiao Yi held his breath and took a long time to catch his breath before continuing, "He told me to go in peace, that I'm blessed with good fortune, that I'll be able to ascend to the celestial realm and live as long as the heavens."
Yan Qing put the mop back in the bathroom before saying, "You've ascended to heaven, all is well now, but I still have to pay off my loans in the mortal world. Tens of thousands is no small sum. And I'll have to pay back the money for this special ward later too."
Qiao Yi was already used to her using feigned indifference to mask her sorrow. Suddenly remembering something, he propped himself up a little and groped for the handle of the bedside table drawer: "There's something..." But his movements stopped there.
Yan Qing walked over and sat down: "What?"
Qiao Yi's dim eyes turned grayish-white, resembling the color of the sky before the polar night. He withdrew his hand, changing his mind: "It's nothing."
Yan Qing peeled an orange and teased, "Stop hiding things. If you have any savings accounts or secret stash of money, you should explain it clearly as soon as possible."
Qiao Yi chuckled and stretched out his hand into the air: "Where are the oranges? Give me half."
Yan Qing placed the orange peel steadily in his palm: "Have some dried tangerine peel."
Qiao Yi held the orange peel, its refreshing fragrance dispelling the disinfectant smell that lingered in his nostrils every day.
He wavered: "Actually, there is something quite important here." He knocked on the door of the bedside table drawer.
"Oh?" Yan Qing reached for the drawer, but Qiao Yi regretted it: "No, let's look at it later!"
Yan Qing ignored him completely: "I insist on watching now."
"Don't!" Qiao Yi blindly waved his claws to block, but to little avail. Seeing that the drawer was about to fall, he shouted, "I made a list of things you should burn for me when you visit my grave!"
The noise suddenly stopped. Qiao Yi chuckled, "That's why I said, no rush to watch..."
Suddenly, he felt a heavy blow to his arm; Yan Qing rarely used such force. Qiao Yi rubbed the spot where he'd been pinched, looking aggrieved. "Is it okay to treat a patient so violently? What happened to the traditional Chinese virtue of caring for the vulnerable...?"
"You're not weak at all, you deserve a beating," Yan Qing said mercilessly.
"Shh," Qiao Yi gestured for silence and pricked up his ears, "Who's at the door?"
Yan Qing didn't believe him: "You're just repeating the same old tricks from when we were kids."
"There really is someone." Qiao Yi raised his voice and asked, "Who is it?"
Yan Qing leaned out to look at the door, but there was no one there. It turned out that Qiao Yi's hearing wasn't that sharp after all.
The entire floor was quiet. At times like this, it felt like only she and Qiao Yi remained in the world, like two helpless little sails on a vast ocean. One was on the verge of death, and the other saw no future. They comforted each other, joked with each other, but even such nights were numbered.
The howling wind heralds the onset of winter, and the inpatient building stands tall in the chilly night.
The lights in the ward were gradually turned off.
Yan Qing covered Qiao Yi with a blanket and gazed at his sleeping face in the dim light from the window.
When Yan Qing first met Qiao Yi, he was a teenager in his adolescence, with a neutral and even face, lacking some definition, unlike Jiang Xiaoman's delicate features. Now, disease has eroded his flesh, revealing bones in his jawline and around his eyes. Yan Qing suddenly saw Jiang Xiaoman's face in his—equally emaciated, equally shrouded in the veil of death.
The closer it got to the moment of parting, the clearer the memories of their time together became. Standing by the hospital bed for so long, she even truly felt as if she had returned to the past. This was Qiao Yi's bedroom. He was sleeping in as usual. In a little while, Jiang Xiaoman would splash his face with her hands covered in cold water, urging him to get up quickly…
Self-deceptive "daydreams" are always fragile, and the smell of disinfectant mixed with cleaning agents quietly woke her up.
There's no going back. Fate gave her a brief period of happiness before taking it all away, leaving only Qiao Yi, like a flickering candle. She carefully protected him from going out, letting this precarious flame illuminate the illusion of happiness.
A cold wind blew, and the dying flame shrank and shrunk, about to go out...
It's so cold.
Old clothes don't keep you warm. Standing outside the inpatient building, Yan Qing held her frostbitten hands and breathed on them.
Suddenly, she felt a warmth spread over her body. A coat was draped over her shoulders.
It was very light and soft, which seemed out of place with the familiar scent of cedar.
The moment she looked up, she lost all strength to defend herself, and her eyes, which had been filled with tears countless times, suddenly reddened again.
From birth, her life was a long and cruel farewell. Those who loved her left one by one, each separation leaving indelible marks on her heart. Whenever she felt even a sliver of happiness, she was quickly plunged into a cold abyss. She could hardly perceive, nor dared to believe, that happiness could ever come. She was trapped in a glass house, forever unable to reach the light.
However, there was one exception in what seemed like a predetermined fate—someone came to knock on the door of this glass house.
"It was you at the door just now," she said softly.
"Um."
Why don't you come in?
"I'm afraid you'll hate me."
"Then why don't you leave?"
Shen Hanyang reached out and stroked her chin; his fingertips were icy cold, but his tears were warm.
With a gentle pull, she was drawn into his embrace. His strong chest offered her comfort.
She was powerless to resist, closed her eyes, and her tears soaked his shirt, leaving a wet patch.
"Why do you have to do this..."
He did not answer.
"You will leave me someday."
He still didn't offer any explanation, and his embrace didn't loosen.
She sobbed silently, her body involuntarily tensing up.
"I still have a lot of questions for you."
He finally spoke, his voice carrying the chill of winter: "Not now."
She was taken aback: "Then what do we do now?"
The shadows before my eyes collapsed, like a mountain crumbling.
He kissed her.
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