Baileys (6)
How can a liar and a scoundrel coexist in this world?
Zhou Zeyi told him that it was indeed possible.
When Sorkov opened his eyes again, he saw an old ceiling that made him feel a little confused. However, the next second, he took a deep breath, raised his wrist and glanced at it. The little bit of drowsiness he had was completely gone when he saw it clearly. He blinked and hummed helplessly.
3:30 p.m.
Before leaving, the suspect cleverly drew all the curtains in the room, so unless he checked his watch, he would have no idea when he woke up; he thought he had slept for decades.
There's no particular reason; he was just bored and had nothing better to do.
What happened next was a blur in his mind. He only remembered being pulled to lie down next to her, with Zhou Zeyu babbling in his ear. The two chatted casually, and then he slowly started yawning, and finally lost consciousness completely.
Sorkov has always had poor sleep quality, and these past few days he's been sleeping very little, spending less time in bed than eating. Under these circumstances, it seems quite normal for him to feel drowsy.
Especially when he was around Zhou Zeyu, this long-accumulated weariness seemed to pour out more easily, even though he was consciously trying to resist it, he could never resist it.
Then the person didn't wake him up, and even deliberately packed his things quietly and left without giving him a chance to say goodbye.
But perhaps, she is right.
How many times could Sorkov endure such separations, especially when such a blissful, almost illusory life was actually happening? How much courage did he have to accept the emptiness of gaining and then losing?
He didn't have high expectations, thinking that never seeing her again in this lifetime wasn't so unbearable, since he still remembered her and missed her.
But fate is always unpredictable. In the intervals between his attempts to convince himself with all sorts of reasons and numb his senses, she would appear without warning.
Just like the first time, it always appeared at the most unexpected time, like something from outer space, silently yet dramatically.
How could he possibly let it go under such circumstances?
Sorkov sighed. He felt he didn't even have the strength to sigh anymore. He looked around the room, which was already empty, but now seemed even more desolate. Even the only cluttered table had been completely cleared out, and everything had disappeared.
Zhou Zeyu also disappeared.
He sometimes wondered if he wasn't that important to her, since she always came and went as she pleased, seemingly never seriously considering their relationship. Zhou Zeyi was always too casual in her approach to feelings.
Humans are always greedy, aren't they?
Just like back then, when young Sorkov looked up at Zhou Zeyu's smiling face in the pouring rain of the evening, all he seemed to want was to steal a bit of the happiness she exuded. But when he grew up a bit and escaped that quagmire, looking at the blurry black and white photo in his hand, he longed to see her face in person.
Now that all of this has come true, he already has more than he ever imagined. He can even lie in the same bed with her and hear her voice with a faint smile within reach. Isn't that enough?
Sorkov lay there silently, his head resting on his arm, staring blankly at the ceiling.
If Zhou Zeyi's departure taught him anything, the most obvious thing is that he really can no longer turn a blind eye.
In the past six months, it wasn't just Zhou Zeyu who changed, but also Sorkov.
She used to be the indecisive one, the one who hesitated to make a decision and procrastinated whenever possible. He used to say a lot of high-sounding but empty words to encourage her. However, the tables have turned, and now the roles have completely reversed between them. Sorkov even feels that he is more cowardly than she was back then.
I always subconsciously avoid problems, subconsciously thinking that leaving them alone will solve them properly, but that doesn't work.
To be honest, from childhood to adulthood, Sorkov never seemed to be a good decision-maker. At many crossroads in his life, he would just stand there, waiting for fate to passively push him forward. He was unwilling to admit it, but the fact was that he really disliked making decisions.
His margin for error in life was so low that he felt that if he made a wrong decision, the whole world would become the worst it had ever been, and he was so afraid of that possibility that he constantly resisted making choices.
But reality won't wait for him to grapple with this decision. Realistically, if he wants to participate in this year's World Championships, then he must choose between the two options as soon as possible.
It's not really a choice between two options. Each of his options is outrageous. One is to completely immigrate to the United States and become a real traitor in the eyes of the media. The other is to stay here, but he can't participate in any competitions and will still face endless exclusion and suppression.
It's so hard to choose; every option is so terrible that I can't bear to give up on any of them.
He suddenly felt like laughing, remembering that he seemed to have talked about this topic with Zhou Zeyi a few hours ago, and her reaction was much more interesting.
Zhou Zeyu lay on the other side of the bed, legs crossed, hands placed in front of his chest, adopting a solemn and devout posture, but the words he uttered had nothing to do with those words.
"Is there any point in making a choice when things are this bad? Since both options are shit, you might as well flip a coin to decide."
It was a very realistic suggestion, and if he hadn't been without cash on him, he might have actually given it a try.
“Sorkov,” Zhou Zeyu opened his mouth and suddenly said, “Sometimes I also feel that maybe your birth chart is not compatible with your country. Why do they always hate you so much? What exactly did you do?”
He wasn't too saddened by this reality; the truth is, after so many years, he had completely gotten used to it.
“Not everyone hates me, Zhou Zeyu,” he turned his head to look at her profile, “it’s the media that hates me.”
Zhou Zeyi and he were well aware of the power of the media, and in fact, her purpose in coming here was to gain the support of the media.
"Then why does the media hate you?"
How could he possibly answer that? Sorkov remembered that he seemed to hesitate for a moment, perhaps not overwhelmed with mixed feelings, but he did speak with some emotion.
"Hate and love are always relative. They hate one person because they love another person more, and that extra love can rightfully turn into hate."
He was referring to Radetz.
From as far back as he could remember, their names were always mentioned one after the other: one was a gloomy boy from a chaotic town, and the other was a sunny boy with beautiful blond hair. The choice was so obvious that he felt a little ashamed, but that was how it was.
Radetz always seemed to easily win the love of many people—the media, coaches, spectators, and even people all over the world. Sorkov didn't think much about why this was the case, because it was so simple that it was obvious without even thinking about it: after all, he was handsome and eloquent.
To highlight a star, there always seems to be a villain to accompany him. Unfortunately, Sorkov was never one to be willing to be a background character, so he was portrayed as dark and selfish. In this stark contrast, Radetz's brilliance shines even brighter.
That's disgusting.
To be fair, aside from his unbearable arrogance, Radetz seemed like the perfect person to appear on television, and even Sorkov had to admit that he possessed stronger leadership than himself, especially within the team.
This was inevitable, because Radetz and that group were evenly matched in strength, while he was not. He always felt that that group would be a burden to him, a bunch of idiots who couldn't even break his record at age twelve. What need was there for him to lead them?
"Do you know you sound way more arrogant than Radetz?" Zhou Zeyu suddenly said after listening to his words.
“I don’t know,” he replied casually. “I’m just giving an objective assessment.”
"Sigh, I get it," Zhou Zeyu said yawning, covering his mouth after stretching, and said in a daze, "You're rather solitary, and as far as I know, whether in ancient or modern times, there aren't many people who can tolerate you. In their eyes, you're like a bomb that could explode at any moment in the team."
"But I never thought about an explosion."
"That's not important. What's important is that they think you're going to explode."
What profound insight! That's the truth.
Most of the time, whether he was compared to Radets or was targeted by the team openly or subtly, he didn't have much intention to resist. The reason was simple: he was very confident in his own abilities, so confident that he felt it didn't matter if he was with this group of useless people, since he didn't care.
But the cruel truth is that just because he wants to stay away from conflict doesn't mean that the struggles will automatically distance themselves from him. Although he may have an intimidating face, he can innocently shrug and assure everyone that he has absolutely no intention of rebelling.
But who would believe that?
"If I were the leader of your team, I wouldn't believe it."
Solkov glanced at her. "Really? If you are, things might be much better than they are now."
Zhou Zeyi shrugged and calmly accepted his question, "So, are you still determined to stay in this team? Even if you're completely disappointed with it?"
Of course not, because in Sorkov's heart, he was never disappointed in it.
That doesn't seem quite right. To be more precise, he never had any expectations for it, so there's no such thing as being utterly disappointed. Solkov knew long ago that you can't completely trust something, and it turns out that it's good he did.
“Okay, then I’m the complete opposite of you,” Zhou Zeyu frankly admitted, “I’m someone who gives my trust too easily.”
Sorkov didn't know exactly what she was referring to, but he could sense a hidden meaning in her words: "Do you regret it?"
Zhou Zeyu lowered his eyes, seemingly lost in thought. After a long pause, he finally said dryly, "I don't like to say I regret things casually."
Because I have doubted myself too many times, questioned my choices too many times while tossing and turning at night, I have fantasized more than once about "what if" I had made a different decision back then, but these daydreams are what cause me constant pain.
She has really figured out a lot of things, so now she can finally tell him directly that she doesn't like to regret things.
“And what about you?” she looked at him and suddenly asked out of the blue, “Why do you dislike trusting others so much?”
Solkov looked into her eyes, saw his own faint reflection in them, and smiled as he said, "Because it's not worth it."
After listening, she nodded as if she understood, but he didn't know how much she actually understood, or whether she could grasp the hidden implications. But whether she understood or not didn't really matter.
If Zhou Zeyu asked him to explain the meaning of the three words "not worth it," even Sorkov wouldn't be able to answer, because he didn't know how to summarize it either; it seemed that these three words were enough.
Because it's not worth it, nothing at all. It's not worth the amount of emotion he invests, not worth the time he spends, and certainly not worth the little trust he has left.
He is not an antisocial personality and harbors malice towards the whole world. That assertion seems a bit too arbitrary. He just doesn't trust people so easily, but there are always people who are worthy of his trust and who deserve his emotional investment.
Because she deserves it.
“You know, sometimes I can’t help but feel sorry for you,” Zhou Zeyu said softly, shifting his gaze to the dim light bulb on the ceiling. “Although Fang Xiaocan told me three centuries ago that I must never feel sorry for a man, she doesn’t know that now, and you’re not allowed to tell her either.”
Sorkov heard himself laughing. "Okay."
Zhou Zeyu shook her head sadly, then suddenly turned to look at him, her cheeks sunk into the soft pillow, only three-quarters of her face showing. "How can you be so miserable, Sorkov? Staying here is just a hardship. If it really doesn't work out, go to America."
Sorkov smiled. "No, Zhou Zeyi."
"I was just saying."
In fact, she knew very well what his choice would be; it wouldn't be A, nor would it be B.
"Have you decided what to do?" Zhou Zeyu thought for a moment, then rephrased, "Or rather, are you sure you want to do this?"
Zhou Zeyu reached out and covered his mouth, blinked, and smiled encouragingly, "Then let's do it."
"Anyway, no one says you have to decide between these two options, so why not take a different approach and choose the third one?"
However, the next second, he covered his mouth and sneezed, and the smile he had been preparing vanished. The culprit was still putting on this show, placing the flower in his palm without hesitation, and laughing with the exaggerated expression of a hot-blooded anime protagonist.
"Go, Andrei Solkov!"
Sorkov was silent for a moment, then shook his head slightly, took the crumpled flower out of his pocket, held it up to his eyes, and squinted to examine it carefully.
It was just an ordinary flower, probably picked up randomly somewhere, with even the soil still on the petals.
But what else could he do? Zhou Zeyu had already boarded a plane to London at midnight, and the distance between them had increased from ten centimeters to more than a thousand kilometers. All that remained was this flower, lying quietly in his palm.
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