Chapter 112 Look at them, to…
Perhaps it was because she hadn't truly been a part of her life for too long, Fang Qing thought. After all these years of divorce, she had gotten used to living alone, and should have been able to let go of these things by now.
But the scene before her, the unspoken understanding and natural ease between the young people, made her feel a sense of emptiness, as if she were isolated from life.
"This room has a good layout, and it's well-ventilated from north to south." Fang Qing stood up, walked slowly to the window.
She raised her hand and gently tapped the windowsill. "This corner is a bit empty. Putting a few potted plants or growing some flowering plants will make it look more lively."
"Okay, I'll buy it later." Xia Zhiyao agreed with her.
Fang Qing walked around the house again. "Buy a bigger refrigerator," she said calmly. "We'll have a lot of stuff in the future, especially frozen food."
She paused, then looked at the table lamp. "This lamp's tone is a bit cold. Let's change it to a warmer light bulb; it'll be more comfortable to look at while we eat."
"I've got it." Xia Zhiyao nodded, a smile on her face, but her throat tightened slightly.
"Okay, I've looked around enough." Fang Qing turned around, her smile as gentle as ever. "Let me know if you need anything, and I'll get you some."
She paused, her gaze lingering on her daughter's face for a moment, the smile faint, dissipating like wisps of smoke.
“You’re doing well now, I can tell,” she said softly. “It’s just that sometimes I wonder if I’m not understanding you anymore.”
Seeing Xia Zhiyao's expression, she smiled and completely composed herself: "I didn't mean anything by it today. I just happened to be passing by and wanted to see how your place was decorated, and also to meet your friends so I could feel at ease."
"Auntie, you're too kind. It's our duty to help." Zhou Yue stood up, his tone polite.
“You child,” Fang Qing’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, her smile deepening, “you are as steady and reliable as ever, making things easy for me.”
She then looked at Zheng Xiaotian: "Xiaotian, thank you too. Please take good care of her."
"Oh, you're too kind. We've known each other for so many years." Zheng Xiaotian quickly waved his hand, smiling憨厚ly. "I'll treat you to a meal next time."
"Okay, let's get together for a meal next time." Fang Qing nodded, a genuine warmth flashing in her eyes. She stood up and straightened her clothes. "When you have a day off, I'll cook a few dishes and bring some friends over for a casual meal."
"Okay." Xia Zhiyao agreed quickly, and a smile returned to her face.
"Okay, I'm off then." Fang Qing picked up her bag and looked back at her daughter with tender eyes: "Get some rest as soon as you're done, don't stay up late."
"Auntie, let me see you off..." Zhou Yue followed a few steps.
"No need." She waved her hand with a smile, her tone gentle yet firm. "You young people go about your business. It's not like I don't know the way."
After a few seconds of silence, no one spoke. Zheng Xiaotian walked to the door, placed his hand on the doorknob, gently opened the door and glanced outside. After confirming that no one was in the corridor, he closed the door behind him. The moment he turned around, the smile on his face had vanished, leaving only a slight frown between his brows.
“Your mother is really gone,” he said in a low voice, his tone a little heavy. “But the two of you like this isn’t a solution.”
Xia Zhiyao looked up, her eyes still showing the exhaustion she had just forced herself to maintain: "What?"
Zheng Xiaotian sighed, crossed his arms, leaned against the door frame, looking relaxed yet serious: "I suggest you just lay it all out with your family. If you really intend to be together, then have a serious talk."
After saying that, he spread his hands, shook his head with a wry smile, and said, "I really don't understand. You two haven't done anything wrong. The fact that you keep hiding things makes people feel guilty, like you can't stand the light of day."
He paused, his gaze sweeping between the two of them before settling on Xia Zhiyao. His tone softened: "Besides, given your current state, anyone can tell. Do you really think Auntie believes you're just 'temporarily staying' at Zhou Yue's house? She just hasn't made it clear yet."
Xia Zhiyao remained silent for a long time. Several times she tried to say something, but her lips moved and she swallowed it back.
“It’s not his fault.” She finally spoke, her voice a little hoarse. “It’s my problem.” She paused, her eyes somewhat vacant. “I don’t dare to face his parents. They’ve always treated me like their own child since I was little, but I… I don’t know how I should face them.”
Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, "How should I bring it up? Tell them I'm with Zhou Yue? What will they think of me?"
Before she could finish speaking, Zhou Yue reached out, almost instinctively interrupting her. His hand covered the back of her hand. "You don't need to worry about them," he said softly, his voice steady and firm, as if shielding her from all the storms. "As long as you believe in me, that's enough."
Xia Zhiyao raised her head, and in that instant, her gaze met Zhou Yue's. The light cast a soft shadow on his brow bone, and his eyelashes cast a very faint arc.
She paused for a few seconds, her lips twitched, but she couldn't manage a smile. Her eyes felt hot and sore. "Don't be so idealistic," she said, her voice like a sigh. "Not everything can be achieved just by being certain about it. Reality isn't that simple."
"Alright, alright." Zheng Xiaotian's voice suddenly broke in, low and husky with a lazy laugh, "Stop acting out this idol drama, this single dog can't take it."
He shook the mineral water bottle in his hand, his tone half-serious and half-joking: "You're already over thirty. Life is only a few decades long, so make the most of it and don't regret it when you're seventy or eighty."
Xia Zhiyao paused for a moment, then smiled slightly, her tension finally easing a bit.
Zhou Yue turned his head to look at him, a smile in his eyes, and said softly, "No one lives as clearly as you."
Zheng Xiaotian snorted, stretched, and his neck made a soft clicking sound. "I wouldn't dare call myself insightful," he chuckled, rubbing his neck. "I'm just too lazy to strain myself. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Just live life as it comes, and love as you love."
As he spoke, he raised his hand and yawned, his voice tinged with laughter, "Come on, let's get ready. I need to go home and sleep after we're done, I'm so sleepy."
After dinner, Fang Qing sat on the sofa in the living room, sinking into the soft cushions. The TV was on, and the eight o'clock drama was showing the male and female leads arguing. The woman was crying her eyes out, and the man looked guilty. Their voices drifted intermittently in the air, and her thoughts drifted along with them, unable to return to the present.
The afternoon's events flashed back in her mind: Zheng Xiaotian's unintentional slip of the tongue, Zhou Yue's fleeting expression, and her daughter's forced smile. These details, like a jigsaw puzzle, pieced together in her mind until the shape became clear, making her heart clench.
Fang Qing sighed. Of course, she understood what those young people were doing. She wasn't stupid, nor was she ignorant. It was just that she didn't want to break through that thin layer of paper, but the less she touched it, the more it stabbed at her heart.
Zhou Yue's mother, Wei Ran, had invited her to give a lecture at the company a few days ago, but thinking about what happened today, she hesitated and didn't know whether she should go or not.
Her phone lay on the coffee table. She stared at the darkness for a while before opening WeChat. The cursor blinked in the input box, then she typed: "Is it convenient for you to take this call?"
A few seconds later, the screen lit up: "Of course, I'm home."
"Hello? Fang Qing?" A familiar female voice came from the other end of the phone, gentle and composed, with her usual calm rhythm.
Fang Qing was slightly taken aback, then smiled and tried to make her voice sound natural: "Did I disturb you?"
"Don't mention it." Wei Ran chuckled softly, his voice gentle and tinged with amusement. "I was just having tea and was thinking of talking to someone. You sound a little tired. What have you been up to today?"
"I went to see Zhiyao today," Fang Qing said carefully. "I happened to run into Zhou Yue and a few of his friends, so I bought some things for her and delivered them over."
"Oh?" Wei Ran chuckled softly, like ripples on tea, her tone carrying a hint of unexpected pleasure. "I was just wondering why this child didn't come home for the National Day holiday. Zhiyao's new house? You mentioned it last time, is it finished being renovated? How does it look?"
"It's fine," Fang Qing said softly, "but the smell is still strong... She's been busy lately, and I heard she's temporarily staying with Yueyue." She spoke casually, as if it were a trivial matter.
There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone. In that short second, Fang Qing could clearly hear her own heartbeat, as well as a barely audible soft breath coming from the other end.
"She... lives at Zhou Yue's house?" Wei Ran finally spoke, her voice still gentle, but she paused slightly. "Yueyue never mentioned this to me."
Fang Qing quickly smiled, her tone gentle and polite, as if afraid the other party would misunderstand, or as if she were trying to smooth things over for the children: "Yes, that's why I thought I should tell you in advance. I'm so sorry to trouble you like this. I'll treat you and your children to a meal another day to thank you properly."
"It's nothing," Wei Ran replied softly, his tone still gentle, but the natural smile from before was gone. "Young people, when they get busy, they forget everything. They don't even have time to say hello to their families."
She paused, her voice lowering further, "But after all, that house was given to him by his father, so as his mother, I can't really say much..."
“Yes.” Fang Qing followed her words, her tone calm, a smile on her lips, but she sighed inwardly. “We are the same. When Zhiyao bought the house, her father also gave some money, but the girl is stubborn and refused to use it. She even told me to save that money and that she could earn it herself in the future.”
A soft laugh came from the other end of the phone, Wei Ran's voice as gentle as a thin veil: "That's quite like you."
“Then it’s settled.” Wei Ran spoke first, his tone becoming calm again. “You still haven’t agreed to meet me at the last event. Let’s have dinner together sometime and catch up.”
"Okay." Fang Qing readily agreed, her tone softening as if she had finally breathed a sigh of relief. "I should be free next week, I'll contact you then."
"Okay, it's settled then." Two soft laughs came from the other end of the phone, polite and gentle, but after the laughter faded, neither of them spoke again.
Fang Qing put down her phone and leaned back on the sofa. She raised her hand and rubbed her temples. In that instant, she suddenly felt that the room was too big and the night too quiet.
She knew that Wei Ran understood, and she also understood Wei Ran's momentary silence. However, neither of them said it out loud, nor did they know how to say it out loud.
After hanging up the phone, Wei Ran didn't move immediately. She remained in the same position, leaning back in the chair in the study. The night breeze was blowing gently outside the window, the gauze curtains were swaying slightly, and the city lights were flashing in the distance.
Fang Qing's voice still echoed in her ears. Her tone was light and casual, even with a touch of natural ease. But it was precisely that ease that made her feel a little strange. It wasn't suspicion or vigilance, but more like a mother's intuition.
She frowned. Zhou Yue had always had a strong sense of boundaries. When he was little, even his younger brother wasn't allowed to enter his room freely, and his desk was always spotless. This was even more true as he grew up; he didn't talk much, was extremely meticulous in his actions, and was polite yet aloof.
Would someone like him allow others to live in his home?
Wei Ran raised her hand and rubbed her temples. Her temples felt slightly tight. She took a deep breath, picked up her phone again, and opened his Moments. The interface looked exactly as she remembered it.
Zhou Yue rarely posts on WeChat Moments. Her latest post, from three days ago, reads: "The evening sky is tinged with pale gold by the afterglow, the clouds look like lightly brushed oil paint, and the city lights gradually illuminate the distance. I've added a quote from Hemingway: 'Life always leaves us with scars, but the places where we have been hurt will be the strongest parts of us.'"
Wei Ran stared at that line of text for a long time. It looked like something he had casually sent after finishing overtime work in the early hours of the morning—a kind of late-night soliloquy, rational yet tinged with weariness.
Scrolling down further, all I saw were traces of work: meetings, proposals, business trip flights, and nighttime views of office buildings. There were no friends, no home, and not a trace of life.
Her fingertip hovered over the screen as she suddenly realized that she hadn't been to his apartment in a long time; the last time was before the Spring Festival. Back then, the apartment was quiet and tidy, more like a refined place to stay than a "home."
At that time, he said he was having lunch with Xia Zhiyao outside. They ate lunch outside on a Saturday noon, and when they came back, Xia Zhiyao helped him buy a lot of daily necessities.
Wei Ran's thoughts lingered on that scene. Suddenly, she felt something was off. She flipped back to the photo, opened it again, and zoomed in. The glass of the French windows was clear with light, and in that reflection, she saw the shadows of two people.
Standing side by side, one tall and one slightly shorter, the light was too soft and the image was blurry, only the outline could be vaguely discerned. The shorter figure had slightly longer hair, slender shoulders, and a relaxed posture, seemingly tilting his head slightly.
Zhou Yue rarely photographs people, and he would never let anyone appear in his photos. This seemingly casually taken landscape photo inadvertently reveals a touch of the softness of life.
Wei Ran exited Moments, his gaze falling on the name "Zhou Yue" in his contacts. His finger hovered over the dial button, but he didn't press it.
She knew her son too well. If she asked him directly, he would definitely answer, but his answer would be watertight, revealing neither the truth nor any warmth.
Wei Ran opened her youngest son Jiang Qiran's chat window. She glanced at the time instinctively; it should be morning in New York. She typed a few words, then deleted them, and rewrote them: "Are you awake?"
Less than a minute later, the other person replied, "Mom, I'm here! Why aren't you asleep yet?"
Wei Ran looked at the screen, her lips twitching slightly. She was still the same old Wei Ran, always full of energy. She thought for a moment, then lightly tapped the keyboard: [Can't sleep, just wanted to ask you, have you been in contact with your brother a lot lately?]
It's alright, we chat occasionally. He even introduced me to an internship the other day.
Zhou Yue was always like this; she wouldn't say it, but she'd do everything perfectly. She slowly typed: "It's fine."
I know! He's really good to me, but sometimes I feel like he's working too hard.
"Wait a minute, Mom, he's in Beijing. Why don't you just contact him directly? Why are you asking me?"
Wei Ran wanted to ask, "Do you know what his relationship with Xia Zhiyao is?" He wanted to ask, "Has he mentioned Zhiyao to you?" He also wanted to ask, "Do you think your brother has been acting any different lately?" These questions circled in his mind, but in the end, they all turned into a sigh.
She knew her two sons too well. Although Qi Ran was lively, he might not know more about such matters than his older brother. The two brothers had always gotten along like this: one took care of the other, and the other was taken care of. They each kept their own space and did not pry into each other's lives. She also did not want Qi Ran to feel that his mother was inquiring about his brother's privacy.
She deleted the half-finished text and retyped: "You know his personality; if I try to control him too much, he gets annoyed."
Don't worry, it's the National Day holiday. He told me he'll be back in a couple of days. You should get some rest too, and don't stay up so late.
The chat window fell silent. Wei Ran returned to the living room from the study, leaned back on the sofa, closed his eyes, and, though he received no answer, felt as if he understood everything.
Qi Ran's tone was so natural that it made her even more certain that Zhou Yue had never mentioned Zhi Yao. Given his personality, if he was just helping someone, he might not have mentioned it specifically, but he wouldn't have deliberately avoided it either. And now, he was avoiding the topic.
She suddenly remembered a night many years ago, when Zhou Yue was sixteen, in the winter of his first year of high school. She saw that the light in his room was still on in the middle of the night. He was sitting at his desk with his books closed, but he was looking out the window at the snow.
"Aren't you going to sleep yet?" she asked.
"I can't sleep." The boy looked up at her, his eyes showing a stubbornness unique to young people, yet also a hint of unease and confusion.
"Mom, why do you think people have to live the way others expect them to?"
Wei Ran remembers that she was stunned for a few seconds, then just smiled, patted his hair, and told him to go to sleep early.
At that time, she thought that he was just confused during adolescence, and that those emotions about self, future and rebellion would always come suddenly and be short-lived.
But now, when she recalls that scene, she suddenly feels that perhaps he already had something in his heart that night, but she just didn't understand it. Those details are intertwined in her memory, carrying a belated tenderness and a vague heartache.
Wei Ran stared blankly at the night outside the window, and a thought suddenly came to her mind: she had to go see him, without asking questions or blaming him.
Look at Zhou Yue, and look at Xia Zhiyao, look at them, what exactly is going on? Is it just simple care, or have they already crossed a certain line?
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