Chapter 20 I'm Alone
Ling Shen didn't stay in the bookstore any longer. After confirming Su Nian's condition, Ling Shen left the bookstore. It was time for him to return to his old house. After all, during a holiday like the Spring Festival, he still wanted to be with his family.
But as he drove away, Ling Shen looked through the rearview mirror at Su Nian, who had flipped the wooden sign to the resting side. For some reason, his heart suddenly trembled. He forced himself not to look, started the car, and drove away quickly.
Su Nian's figure in the rearview mirror became smaller and smaller, and finally disappeared at the corner of the street, but Ling Shen's hands gripping the steering wheel tightened unconsciously, and the thin sweat on his palms made the leather steering wheel a little slippery.
Su Nian was completely unaware of Ling Shen's struggle. He just wanted to close the shop and go back to his room to have a good rest.
Although he had a day off today because of Ling Shen, the dull pain in his lower back still reminded him to apply medicine.
"This year is about to end, and a new one will begin." Su Nian raised his head, looked at the snowflakes that had been floating in the air since he didn't know when, and smiled slowly.
The white mist he exhaled condensed into tiny ice crystals in the cold air. He reached out to catch a snowflake. The cold touch reminded him of the faint cedar scent on Ling Shen's body. The thought flashed through his mind, and he didn't even notice the slight upward curve of the corners of his mouth.
Ling Shen drove quickly towards the old house. The festive Spring Festival overture was playing on a loop in the car stereo, but it did not relieve his inner irritability at all.
He tugged at his tie and lowered the window a crack. The biting cold wind blew into the car, making him shiver, but it also made his confused thoughts clearer.
Ling's father and mother, who hadn't seen their son in a long time, were already eagerly awaiting his arrival. The flames danced cheerfully in the living room's fireplace, filling the room with warmth. The coffee table was filled with Ling's favorite pastries, which his mother had bought early that morning at a time-honored bakery.
Father Ling was still able to control himself, but his knuckles unconsciously rubbed the edge of the phone. The financial news on the screen had long since gone blank.
Ling's mother, however, was restless, her white-knuckled fingers tightly gripping the armrest of the sofa. Every few minutes, she looked towards the entrance. The light from the crystal chandelier swayed in the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, reflecting the anxiety surging in her eyes.
The snow particles outside the floor-to-ceiling window hit the glass with a rustling sound. Every slight sound made her straighten up suddenly. The hem of her silk nightgown swept across the coffee table, causing the celadon teacup to tremble slightly.
"Just sit down. That brat will definitely come back today. Don't worry." When Ling's father reminded him for the third time, his voice was filled with suppressed irritation.
He placed his phone upside down on the walnut coffee table. The metal casing made a crisp sound when it collided with the tabletop, startling the antique clock in the corner to suddenly ring the hour.
Ling's mother glanced at her husband with annoyance, her coral lipstick staining her tightly pursed lips. She slumped back on the sofa, grabbed a cashmere shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. She took a deep gulp from her long-cold Pu'er tea and said, "All you do is check your phone. Your son hasn't been home for ages, and you're not worried."
The tea stains at the bottom of the cup left winding traces on the wall of the cup, just like her messy mood at the moment.
Ling's father put down his phone with some resignation. Seeing this, Ling's mother continued, "And that Jiang family, relying on saving Ah Shen, how much have they gained over the years? Ah Shen refused to get married or fall in love for the sake of Jiang Yi. It's really..."
When it comes to the Jiang family, Ling's father also has a lot of resentment in his heart, but after all, because of Jiang Yi's life-saving grace, he has always turned a blind eye. However, the Jiang family has intensified their demands, and when Ling Shen's actions against the Jiang family were heard, Ling's father happily drank half a catty of white wine.
"A Shen is grown up now and must have his own ideas. Don't worry so much about him. Besides, judging from A Shen's recent actions, he seems to have started to let go." Father Ling glanced at his wife who was still sulking and whispered to comfort her.
Mother Ling knew what Father Ling said was true, but she couldn't help but worry more. She knew her son well. Mother Ling knew her son was a man who would repay a favor. Even if the Jiang family was being excessive, as long as Jiang Yi was still there, he wouldn't do anything too extreme to the Jiang family.
"Oh, this child." She wiped the moisture from the corners of her eyes with her fingertips, and the cashmere shawl slipped down to reveal her slender collarbone. "You can't sacrifice your whole life for a life-saving favor."
As the roar of the engine pierced the snow, Ling's mother nearly dropped the teacup in her hands. The carved bronze door slowly swung open, and a chill wind, carrying snowflakes, blew into the warm hall. The shoulders of Ling's deep black coat were covered in snow, and the icy beads of ice on the ends of his hair shone coldly in the light.
As soon as the housekeeper called out "Madam", Ling's mother rushed forward. The familiar scent of cedar perfume mixed with the cold air hit her face. Looking at her son standing in front of her, Ling's mother's eyes turned red instantly.
Ling Shen lowered his eyes to look into his mother's watery ones. His bony fingers gently gathered the shawl that had slipped off, the warmth of his palms transmitting through the mink fur. "Mom, I'm back."
Ling's mother agreed repeatedly and followed Ling Shen's force back to the living room. Ling's father also put down his mobile phone at this time. Looking at his tall son in front of him, he could not hide the admiration and love in his eyes.
"Dad, I'm back." Ling Shen nodded to his father, took his mother's hand and sat on the sofa.
Su Nian sat on the edge of the bed with a hunched back, his fingertips groping for the ointment tube behind his waist. When the cold ointment touched the wound, he subconsciously clenched his teeth. The "whoosh" sound that escaped from his throat mixed with the sporadic sound of firecrackers outside the window, and was particularly clear in the silent space.
The ointment was finally spread evenly. He slowly stood up with the help of the headboard. The mirror reflected the fresh wound on his lower back, which looked like a hideous red worm crawling on the pale skin.
Su Nian shook his head helplessly at himself in the mirror. A hint of fatigue flashed across his eyes behind the lenses, but more of it was a sense of indifference that was taken for granted.
Su Nian took off her glasses and changed into pajamas, shedding the warmth of the day. As her black sleeves fluttered, the old scar on her left arm, which stretched from the elbow to the wrist, flickered, like a silent snake coiled on her skin.
He walked to the window and picked up the celadon wine glass. The amber wine swayed gently in the glass, reflecting the lights of thousands of houses outside the window into golden spots.
The streets and alleys outside are filled with laughter and joy. Yes, it is the day for family reunion. No matter how far away people are, they will rush back just to reunite with their families.
The New Year atmosphere drifted to Su Nian's nose, but the hustle and bustle outside made the bookstore seem even more dead silent.
Su Nian raised the wine glass to his lips, the cool glass against his burning cheek. "Look, it's New Year's Day," he whispered softly into the empty room, his voice so soft it seemed to be swallowed up by the sound of fireworks outside the window.
"This year, I'm myself, and from now on, I'll be myself." The arc of his lips was full of self-mockery, but the moment the wine slid into his throat, it was blurred by the mist that flashed across his eyes.
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