Farewell (Part 6)
No, it's not good at all.
Her breathing suddenly became rapid, and her left chest and heart were throbbing with pain. Zhou Zeyu bit her lower lip hard, trying to swallow back the overwhelming and uncontrollable pain, but she could only manage a muffled sob.
She never expected things to turn out this way, just as she would never know why she and Cen Zheng had ended up like this.
To be honest, she didn't really understand Cen Zheng at all. It seemed that ever since she became aware of herself, Cen Zheng had been a steadfast yet gentle flag, firmly stationed in the Beijing team. Despite all the trials and tribulations over the years, she hadn't been able to shake or relax her resolve. She would always be there.
So Zhou Zeyi had gotten used to her presence, used to her unwavering speech before every mobilization meeting, used to her leading the team as captain, and used to seeing her as a role model when she was lost and confused. Cen Zheng was certainly important to her, which was why she didn't know how to face her.
She took over the baton in a daze, and one day she was suddenly informed that she would replace Cen Zheng and become another spokesperson for the Beijing team. Of course, Zhou Zeyu resisted. She did not want Cen Zheng to feel that she had taken her place.
But that's exactly what she did, so even her final explanation seemed weak, and she simply stopped talking.
She remained silent, for there was really nothing to say. Having reached that position, caution and prudence were essential. She had been carefully groomed to be the epitome of excellence, so she could no longer act as she pleased. Therefore, she simply kept silent, knowing that someone would always decide for her what to say.
Zhou Zeyu even felt that the story was a bit too absurd. Back then, she was a little mute, and Cen Zheng made her talk more. But many years later, she helped Fang Xiaocan just like Cen Zheng did. When Fang Xiaocan became cheerful, she became a little mute again.
Little mute, little mute, why are you unhappy, and why don't you want to speak?
A hand suddenly landed gently on her shoulder, the warm touch spreading through the fabric to her skin. It seemed to have no effect, but it was enough for her.
Sorkov didn't know why she suddenly became sad, nor did he know what he had said wrong. This was understandable, after all, they were just strangers who had met by chance. He wouldn't know about their past, and he certainly couldn't understand it.
Many things can only be kept in the heart, so much pain is openly buried in the corner of the heart, and over time it seems to have been forgotten, but it will always be remembered again in some corner.
Zhou Zeyu didn't want those memories to be suddenly stirred up at this time, in this place, especially next to Sorkov; she wasn't prepared for that.
Therefore, I feel fearful, lost, and even alienated.
From childhood to adulthood, she has always been someone who wears her heart on her sleeve. She originally thought that when she grew up, she would become like all adults, using a respectable and superficial smile to disguise her true feelings, but she actually failed to do so.
She had long known that she couldn't control her chaotic emotions, just as she could only watch helplessly as her life went from orderly to chaotic.
So she wasn't surprised that Solkov noticed her unusual behavior. He was actually a very sensitive person, even though he looked like a delinquent playing with will-o'-the-wisps on the street.
The delinquent boy wasn't actually that bad. At least he was willing to listen to her rambling on about those pointless things, and he would occasionally bring up some less boring topics. He would also suddenly squat down and gesture for her to lie on his back.
But Zhou Zeyu was lost in her memories and didn't realize what was happening at first. She thought he had suddenly squatted down to tie his shoelaces, so she patiently squatted down behind him and waited for him until Sorkov turned around and blinked at her before she belatedly realized what was going on.
"Are you going to carry me on your back?"
She hesitated for a moment, revealing an awkward expression that was difficult to articulate.
It wasn't that she didn't trust him; it's just that Sorkov wasn't exactly the tall, strong type, and Zhou Zeyu always felt that only a super-muscular man like Captain America could easily carry her.
As for this Sorkov...
Without a second thought, Sorkov knew what she was thinking. Without saying a word, he suddenly bumped into her without warning. Zhou Zeyu couldn't stop in time and fell straight onto his back. Then, without any explanation, she was lifted up on his back.
Zhou Zeyu wanted to protest against this domineering behavior, but when she opened her mouth, she suddenly didn't know what to say. She was probably just too tired.
I'm so tired that I don't want to say a single word.
She didn't speak, and of course, Sorkov didn't speak either. So the two of them returned to the state of silence they had at the beginning, except now he was carrying her on his back on this dimly lit forest path.
In fact, Zhou Zeyu was also reflecting on himself, wondering if his stereotype of Sorkov was really too bad.
For example, he wasn't actually a street thug; he would fight with those thugs for her sake, just to get back that box and the gold medal inside that was so important to her.
For example, although he wasn't a muscular superhero, he was actually very stable when carrying someone. His arms supported her legs firmly, and as she lay on his back, she could even slowly feel his muscles rising and falling with his breathing.
Wait, has she forgotten something?
Zhou Zeyu slapped his forehead and shouted, "Your shoulder injury! Put me down right now!"
Before he could react, she broke free from his arm and jumped off his back with a start, all her worries instantly pushed aside by her panic.
Because she was in such a hurry, her English was flying by, ignoring all grammar and sentence structure, and just spouting whatever words came to mind, to the point that Sorkov couldn't actually hear what she was saying.
He didn't actually need to understand; just looking at Zhou Zeyu's exasperated expression, he knew she was genuinely worried and terrified.
So he just smiled reassuringly and said, "It doesn't actually hurt."
"It doesn't hurt?" She looked confused. "How could it not hurt? Did you bump into something or scrape yourself this morning?"
Actually, none of that was true. Sorkov didn't want to hide it from her, so he told her anyway, but his voice was so soft that it seemed like it would be blown away by the wind in the next second.
He never intended for Zhou Zeyi to hear him clearly, which is why he spoke so vaguely and evasively. But he didn't know when she had become so perceptive, asking the question almost without thinking.
"When? Did you receive proper treatment?"
He wanted to answer, but Zhou Zeyu's expression was extremely worried. She began to pace anxiously, and even reached out to touch his shoulder unconsciously.
Actually, he hadn't felt anything for a long time. The injury had been there for so long that even he had almost forgotten about it. He only twisted his ankle a little when he snatched the box back in the morning, and the slight pain lasted all morning, but it was nothing now.
Having suffered so many injuries, one or two more wouldn't make a difference, so I didn't really care.
But she cares, she seems to care a lot.
Sorkov lowered his head, looked at Zhou Zeyu's face, and suddenly said.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
Why? Solkov couldn't answer either. He didn't even know why he asked such a nonsensical question. In fact, some things don't need to be investigated thoroughly; that would be too strange. It was as if he desperately wanted to know the answer to this question.
But what's wrong with that? He just desperately wants to know the answer.
Admitting one's inner desires is not something shameful, especially for him. He seems to have always been this kind of person: he fights for what he wants, and if necessary, he'll steal it. He always manages to get what he wants by any means necessary.
However, some things cannot be achieved through fighting, such as Zhou Zeyu's thoughts, which are so simple and easy to understand, yet he still cannot comprehend them.
There's no reason why.
He heard her say that suddenly.
Repeating the same mistakes—such an easy phrase, yet it carries such a heavy weight. Zhou Zeyu uttered it lightly, but that doesn't mean he's at peace with it.
Who can truly forgive her? She's already suffered enough from injuries.
Sorkov seemed to understand something and gently patted her shoulder. "I won't, Zhou Zeyi, I won't."
Zhou Zeyu was surprised when he suddenly called her name and looked up at him in astonishment.
The dim light bathed everything in a gentle glow, deliberately blurring his outline so much that she had to squint to see him clearly.
Standing vaguely in the backlight, Sorkov seemed to be smiling, watching her squint as she tried her best to keep her eyes closed. It was as if he was showing such a defenseless expression for the first time, which made him seem unfamiliar to everyone.
Zhou Zeyu was so focused on looking at him that she seemed to have forgotten what she had been thinking until he called her name again.
She had actually had this question for a long time, but for various reasons, she always felt that the question sounded silly, even presumptuous. But she just couldn't help herself.
"Sorkov, why do you pronounce my name so perfectly?"
He rarely called her by her name, nor did he use the awkward transliteration to call her "seeyou" like others. He always pronounced her name in standard, almost perfect Chinese, but she never taught him.
He had never studied Chinese, so of course he couldn't speak it. These three words, without any strange tones or awkward accents, were pronounced perfectly correctly.
Sorkov hadn't expected that after all that hesitation, she would ask such a question, and he couldn't help but laugh.
Are you eager to know the answer to this question?
Zhou Zeyu sensed the teasing in his words and scratched her head sheepishly. If she really wanted to know, it didn't seem so, because she had noticed it long ago but only asked now, and of course, she didn't have any reason to ask.
But it seems somewhat unsatisfying to let this confusion persist.
"Yes, I really want to know. I also really want to know that you said you knew me before, but when exactly was that?"
"Sorkov, when exactly did you come to know me?"
Sorkov had only intended to tease her and was even prepared to continue walking, but upon hearing this unexpected reply, he was involuntarily taken aback and stared at her with his eyes widening slightly.
Zhou Zeyu did not back down, staring straight at him without the slightest fear, yet her expression was so sincere.
It's as if it's simply to unravel this question.
But this answer wasn't just for solving the mystery, Solkov thought, wondering if she was dull or perceptive, and whether she would ever discover it all.
Sorkov stopped, turned to the side, and gazed at her silently.
Standing under the same streetlight, is it only her heart that is shrouded in mist?
Her face seemed to slowly overlap in his memory. In a daze, Solkov even thought that the past ten years seemed to have suddenly rewound, and he was standing outside that small newsstand again, looking at the girl who was shining under the light and quietly sitting on the front page of the newspaper.
He looked at Zhou Zeyu's face, just like many, many years ago, squinting, standing on tiptoe under the narrow eaves of the newsstand, trying his best to see the photos and names on the newspaper.
Joe Seeyou
Zhou Zeyu.
“Zhou, Ze, Yu”.
“It’s a long story, do you really want to hear it?” he asked.
Zhou Zeyu nodded and looked up into his eyes again.
"I will listen carefully."
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