Chapter 8, Record No. 117, "Doing All..."
"Should we take a detour?" Ye Yuying straightened up and looked at the red-lit traffic ahead.
Cheng Mingdu opened the navigation, and three alternative routes quickly popped up on the screen. The shortest one would take at least forty minutes longer. "We can go around it by taking the mountain road from the east, but it has many bends and is narrow with big curves."
Ye Yuying denied the route without hesitation, saying, "I remember there were quite a few car accidents on this road before, let's forget about it."
She looked out the window; the rain was almost torrential, and the car window was blurred by the mist. Even the occasional wipers couldn't completely wipe away the chill.
"You decide," she said, her tone seemingly relaxed, but in reality, she was already uncertain.
Cheng Mingdu didn't ask any more questions, clicked "confirm," and the car slowly turned and followed the car in front, entering the side road.
As he had said, the mountain road was indeed dark and narrow, with almost no streetlights, frequent bends, and mountains swallowed by the night and slippery dense forests on both sides. Only the few meters of light sticking out in front of the headlights could barely make way for the road ahead.
The car was completely silent, with only the sound of rain hitting the roof and the wipers rubbing back and forth, like some long trial slowly stripping away one's emotions.
Ye Yuying's fingers gripped the metal joints of the exoskeleton tightly, her palms covered in cold sweat.
The memory of that car accident flashed through her mind almost instantly—the same heavy rain, the same mountain road, the same blurred vision. She also remembered that a second before the car crashed through the guardrail, her classmate's hands were trembling as he gripped the steering wheel, while she didn't have time to do anything, not even to scream.
She was unconscious for a long time after that, and when she woke up, she was paralyzed on one side...
Ye Yuying stared intently at the distorted rain curtain in front of her, her chest heaving violently, her knuckles turning white from the excessive force.
She clutched her coat, trying to control her emotions and suppress the physiological instincts that had been firmly ingrained in her body since the trauma.
"Stop the car!" she cried out uncontrollably, her voice distorted, almost screaming.
Cheng Mingdu sensed the tension in her voice and slowed down without hesitation, pulling the car over to the side of the road on a slightly wider curb and turning on the hazard lights.
His gaze darkened, and he silently looked at her, as if searching for something.
Her reaction was indeed excessive.
The rain intensified, pattering against the windshield. Inside the carriage, however, was eerily quiet, even breathing felt heavy and oppressive.
After a long while, Ye Yuying turned her head, her voice hoarse: "Don't go, there's no need to take such a risk..."
There was no doubt in Cheng Mingdu's deep eyes, only a single word: "Okay."
But after he finished speaking, he didn't look away for a long time, as if trying to guess whether her reaction was due to some kind of stress after a major event.
She opened her phone and said, "I'll book a room, you can just take me to the city center."
A minute later, she dejectedly put down her phone and said helplessly, "We're full."
"It's normal that many people are stranded in Chengdu today," he said in a low voice, his eyes flickering.
"You can stay at my place for the night, but if that's inconvenient, I'll sleep at the old house tonight."
This ensures that the two people don't live under the same roof.
"Qizhi Xiaozhu?" Ye Yuying asked uncertainly.
The villa, situated by the lake and featuring a Japanese-style garden, is most notable for being surrounded by bamboo groves, and its interior is permeated with the natural aroma of wood.
She never expected that he would still keep that house.
Cheng Mingdu nodded. "Yes, I haven't been there in a long time. Someone will come to clean it on the weekend."
“I thought…you had already sold it…” Her voice carried a hint of barely perceptible sigh, as if she had casually unearthed some old story.
The house was originally intended to be sold because he spent most of his time abroad at the time. It was a property left in China by his mother, and its unique structure required some maintenance, making it troublesome to move around so much.
But she moved in, and having someone live there actually helps maintain the house.
She stayed there until the eve of her departure abroad...
She remembered Qizhi Xiaozhu—the place where the best time of their relationship had taken place.
On weekend mornings, fog rises over the lake. He stands on the balcony drinking tea, while she nestles in a wicker chair in the corner, eating snacks with her head tilted back, or doing nothing at all.
A breeze blew in, carrying the clean scent of wood mixed with the aroma of the lake, fluttering her light skirt and flowing hair.
They would always take a walk by the lake after dinner. There was a swing set in the yard, and the sound of the bamboo rustling in the wind would drift through the air. In such weather, she would snuggle in his arms and read, often falling asleep without realizing it. As the pages of the book were turned, he would gently hold her in his arms, his breath light and soft, his breath mingling with the lake breeze.
They fled the Cheng family mansion together and lived a life undisturbed there...
Ye Yuying said that was "exile-style freedom".
Looking back now, every inch of it feels warm, as beautiful as an illusion in life.
"It wasn't sold." Cheng Mingdu's Adam's apple bobbed, and he said no more, offering no explanation.
*
The car wound its way around a familiar lakeside path and arrived at another corner of Chengdu. The rain gradually subsided, and a corner of the sky was torn open by dark clouds, revealing a faint moonlight.
It's unclear whether the thunderstorm hadn't yet arrived, or whether the place was protected by the Earth God.
Qizhi Xiaozhu is located on the other side of the lake. Soft sensor lights shine through the bamboo forest, and the sound of raindrops dripping under the eaves creates a somewhat deserted atmosphere.
Cheng Mingdu slowly parked the car beside the stone road, turned to look at her, and said, "We're here."
Ye Yuying stared at the familiar house for a long time without moving.
"Let's go," he said softly.
She nodded gently, opened the car door, and stepped into the long-silent shelter in the night.
The wind rustles through the bamboo forest, making the same sound as always, as if nothing has changed.
My footsteps trod on the wet stone path, raindrops dripping from the bamboo leaves, falling between the ribs of the hanging oil-paper umbrellas, along the edges of the roof ridges, and under the eaves...
The motion-sensor lights in front of the house stretched their shadows, which overlapped and merged in front of the old wooden door.
Cheng Mingdu pushed open the door first, and the dull sound of the wooden door opening and closing came from inside. A damp smell mixed with the scent of wood and the air of the lake wafted out—it was somewhat refreshing because it was well-maintained.
He went inside and turned on the entryway light. The soft light slowly spread out, illuminating the familiar furnishings—a low wooden table, a rattan armchair, an old record player… Everything was as quiet as ever, as if those years had never passed.
Ye Yuying stood at the door, not taking a step immediately, but gazing at the space she had dreamed of countless times, somewhat forgetting how to enter.
"A little, I guess?" she asked softly in the dark, as if afraid of disturbing something.
"It hasn't stopped." He walked towards the kitchen, turning on the switch as he spoke.
A moment later, the sound of electricity starting up came from the kitchen, followed by the gurgling of the kettle, like an extraordinary opera opening its curtain in a symphony.
"Black tea?" He suddenly poked his head out from the kitchen, his tone casual and nonchalant.
"Yes." She blurted out, then paused, surprised herself.
Actually, she hadn't drunk it in a long time. Over the years, she had cut all ties with him out of her life, even changing her tastes. But now, she readily agreed.
"I just happened to have some new ones." He looked away and turned to prepare.
She slowly walked into the house, took off her coat and hung it up. Her movements were careful, slow, and somewhat awkward, like a reserved visitor from out of town.
A fine mist still floats on the lake outside the window. The wind blows through the bamboo forest, making the wind chimes on the eaves tinkle and jingle—it's the same old tune, unchanged.
She stood in front of the bookshelf, her fingertips gently stroking the familiar spines of the books—"White Nights," "One Hundred Years of Solitude," "The Brothers Karamazov"... and even a few original German novels she had kept from back then, the bookmarks still stuck in the middle, leaving marks, because she couldn't understand a single word at the time.
She realized something and quickly withdrew her hand, unsure of who these books should belong to now.
Have you been living in Jiangcheng all these years?
"Um."
Ye Yuying did not ask any further questions.
She stared at the book she had left behind, her mind wandering for a moment before she finally looked away and sat down on the sofa.
Thinking of something, he quickly reached into his bag to check.
She hadn't anticipated the situation requiring an overnight stay and wanted to confirm whether the amount of painkillers would last until noon the next day.
The result is that it might be a bit uncertain.
A few minutes later, the aroma of tea gradually filled the room. He came over with two cups of hot tea and handed her one of them.
"Would you like to add a little sugar?" he asked.
She glanced at him and nodded gently.
He went to the kitchen, got some brown sugar, added a little with a metal spoon, and stirred.
"Thank you." She took the tea, held it in her hands, and felt the warmth slowly rising from her palms. The aroma of the tea always carried a certain comfort.
He sat down opposite her, with a low table and a lamp between them. The light fell between them and illuminated the old stories in their eyes.
She gazed at the tea leaves swirling gently in the tea, seemingly at a loss for words, and softly asked, "Do you have any records? Something to provide background noise."
Otherwise, this silence would be hard to bear.
"They're all there. See what you want to hear." His voice was clearer in the room.
She lowered her head to take a sip of tea, and then turned her head to see the record shelf next to her.
With just a quick glance, she could tell that Cheng Mingdu hadn't acquired any new records in recent years.
She reached out and pulled out a vinyl cover; the cover was worn, but the lettering was still clear.
The cover has yellowed with age, but the highly recognizable "Queen" logo is still clearly visible.
It was a limited-edition commemorative record—in 200X, Queen's self-titled debut album, *Queen*, was re-released on 180g vinyl. This version recreated the cover design of the original 1973 US release, designed to satisfy collectors and audiophiles. Only 500 copies were produced, each individually numbered.
This one is number 117.
Cheng Mingdu waited in line for a long time at a record store in Boston to buy it.
She examined the record, vaguely remembering that she had been playing it on the record player just moments before she left…
As she packed her luggage, she listened to "Doing All Right," a song that blended rock ballads and heavy metal elements. The record made a soft creak as it was about to finish spinning.
She hesitated for a moment, then turned off the player, picked up her luggage, and went out the door.
A note from the author:
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[Note] The record portion has been altered and does not entirely reflect the actual situation.
50 red envelopes~ [Cat emoji]
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