Chapter 10 (Part 2)
After Yu Huan left, Cheng Zhao ordered another round. Drinking alone was even more boring. He pulled out his phone, checked various messages, replied to a few, deleted a few, and when he finished processing them all, his fingers seemed to lose control and moved to click on Gan Ling's updates. A person's WeChat updates can reflect their personality to some extent. For example, Gan Ling always posted some obscure book information, or the origin of a book, or introduced an author he had never heard of. As for her personal life, she didn't reveal any clues at all, completely invisible. Cheng Zhao wanted to call her, hear her voice, and ask her what she really thought. But he could guess her reaction without calling: no reaction. He felt even more frustrated. And he had no way to deal with it. As you approach, please listen carefully. The trembling leaves are the passion of my waiting. And when you finally walk past, ignoring me, the friend who scatters to the ground behind you—those aren't petals, but my withered heart. Cheng Zhao downed the newly served glass of Nicholas in one gulp. He couldn't sit still. He wanted to leave immediately, but he didn't know where to go. It was too early to go home, and returning to an empty house alone would only intensify his loneliness. It would be different if there was a woman waiting for him at home. What if that woman happened to be Gan Ling? He abruptly cut off his thoughts, daring not to indulge them. Such a beautiful scene, shattered, felt even more desolate. He couldn't go back to his mother's house either. It was too late. She went to bed early, and the questioning he'd receive would only make him even more upset. A beautiful figure sat down across from him. She was tall and stylish, her makeup delicate, as if carved from a doll's mold. The silver eyeshadow at the corners of her eyes shone in the light, making her truly alluring. "Handsome guy, why are you alone? Did your girlfriend dump you?" Cheng Zhao snorted. "You have a sharp eye!" The girl smiled charmingly. "There are plenty of fish in the sea! Not to mention you're so handsome, it'll only take a minute to find another one." "Sharp eyes, sweet words. You're a ruthless person." "Buy me a drink?" "Sure!" "If you're bored, you can tell me about your troubles. I'm very understanding." This girl gave Cheng Zhao a familiar sense of security. For a few years, he had been quite absurd, meeting many girls like this one. A night of tenderness after a drunken night was very satisfying, but it was not to be taken seriously. Even if he had once or twice been moved by drunkenness, he thought it was serious, but he always kept his bottom line. A few days later, he saw her passing by with the arm of a stranger, without even glancing at him, and he couldn't help but smile sadly. Girl...
After Yu Huan left, Cheng Zhao ordered another round. Drinking alone was even more boring. He took out his mobile phone, checked various messages, replied to a few, deleted a few, and finished processing them all. His fingers seemed to be out of control and he moved them to click on Gan Ling's status.
A person's WeChat updates can reveal a certain amount of their personality. Gan Ling, for example, always posts obscure information about books, the origins of a book, or an introduction to an author she's never heard of. But she reveals nothing about her own life, completely invisible.
Cheng Zhao wanted to call her, hear her voice, and ask her what she was thinking. But even without calling, he could guess her reaction: no reaction.
He was even more frustrated. And he had no way to deal with it.
When you get closer, please listen carefully
The trembling leaves are the passion of my waiting
And when you finally walked by without paying any attention
Falling behind you
My friend, those are not petals.
It's my withered heart
Cheng Zhao drank a glass of Nicholas that had just been served on the table. He could not sit still and wanted to leave immediately, but he did not know where to go. It was too early to go home, and returning to an empty house where he lived alone would only increase his loneliness at the moment. It would be different if there was a woman waiting for him at home. What if that woman happened to be Gan Ling... He suddenly cut off his thoughts and did not dare to fantasize further. Such a beautiful scene would be even more desolate after being shattered.
He couldn't go back to his mother's house either. It was too late and his mother was used to going to bed early. Besides, as soon as he got home, he would be questioned about his life, which would make him even more upset.
A pretty figure sat down opposite him. The girl was tall and fashionable. Her makeup was so delicate that she looked like she was carved out of a doll mold. There were dots of silver eyeshadow on the corners of her eyes, which shone under the light and was truly alluring.
"Handsome guy, why are you alone? Did your girlfriend dump you?"
Cheng Zhao snorted and laughed, "You have a sharp eye!"
The girl smiled charmingly, "There are plenty of fish in the sea! Not to mention you're so handsome, it'll only take a minute to find another one."
"Poisonous eyes, sweet mouth. He's a ruthless person."
"Buy me a drink?"
"Sure!"
"If you're bored, you can tell me what's on your mind. I'm very understanding."
This girl gave Cheng Zhao a familiar sense of security. For a few years, he'd been truly absurd, meeting many girls like this one. A night of tenderness after a drunken night was exhilarating, but it wasn't taken seriously. Even once or twice, when he'd been caught off guard by a drunken stupor, he'd thought it was real, but he'd always held his ground. A few days later, he'd see her walk past him arm in arm with a stranger, barely even glancing at him, and he couldn't help but smile.
The girl was much more fun than Yu Huan. She spoke in a soft and sweet voice and told some funny stories about the occasion. Although Cheng Zhao was used to hearing them, he didn't find them boring. They spent an hour laughing and joking. When he glanced around inadvertently, he felt that he had blended in with the crowd and was no longer such a lonely ghost.
The girl quickly developed a liking for him, and the hints in her words became increasingly obvious. Cheng Zhao felt he could no longer resist, and for a moment, he suddenly wanted to give up and take her home. But it was only a moment of weakness. He knew that if he repeated his mistakes, there would be no possibility for him to be with Gan Ling.
In the end, he left two hundred yuan on the table to pay for the girl to have two more drinks, then left with a slightly staggering step and a smile.
Almost as soon as he got up, he made up his mind to go to Changwang New Village to find Gan Ling. Gan Ling also went to bed early, so it would probably be eleven o'clock when he got there, but who cares!
Cheng Zhao didn't find a designated driver. He left the car in the parking lot and walked to the side of the road to stop a taxi. His grievances suddenly turned into a powerful momentum under the influence of alcohol. He should go find Gan Ling. She couldn't treat him like that. She owed him an explanation!
In the car, he kept talking to Gan Ling in his mind, imagining how he would start and how she would answer.
"...You're not married and I'm not married, so why can't we be together?"
"What did you say?" the taxi driver turned around and asked.
Cheng Zhao woke up and realized that he had accidentally said it, "Nothing."
He rolled down the window a bit, letting the wind in to cool his burning forehead. He'd drunk too much mixed drinks today, and tomorrow morning his head would probably be aching like a saw. Well, maybe he'd do something big tonight, and tomorrow the pain would make him forget everything.
Alcohol can embolden cowards, but it doesn't always work, and the journey is long. Cheng Zhao felt invincible at one moment, then shrunken down to a paranoid hamster. Amidst this frantic, sideways experience, they arrived at Changwang New Village.
"Do you want to enter the community?" the driver turned around and asked.
"Come in, Building 24."
"Okay!"
Cheng Zhao bit his nails as he watched the car enter the residential complex. As the night deepened, the streetlights seemed to brighten, gleaming brightly in the silence. Everything was brightly lit, making him feel a little uneasy. Was he going to hit a wall again in such bright light? Isn't it said that when drunk, people dare to do anything? Why did he seem to be getting more and more sober?
After a few seconds, the car stopped.
The driver asked Cheng Zhao to scan the QR code to pay, which took him a while to complete. He patiently waited for him to get out before slowly backing away. Soon, Cheng Zhao was gone. He was left standing alone below Building 24. He looked left, right, up, and down. Not a single house had a light on; most of the elderly had gone to bed early.
It was still not too late to retreat. He turned around, paused for a few seconds, and turned back. He couldn't be so useless. He had dealt with so many difficult clients, so how could he not handle a mere woman?
The stairs were harder to climb than he had imagined. His legs were weak and he could fall to the ground at any time. He grabbed the handrail and took one step at a time with great effort. Finally, he reached the door of Room 302.
He raised his hand, ready to knock, but the silence was too great, so quiet that it made his heart flutter, as if something would explode if his finger landed. He paused, pondering carefully, realizing that he was afraid of Gan Wenkang. Although it was unlikely that Gan Wenkang would answer the door after knocking, he lived there after all. His figure, like a shadow, could expand infinitely, making Cheng Zhao afraid to approach.
He didn't care whether it was dirty or not, he sat down on the steps at the door, took out his cell phone and sent a WeChat message to Gan Ling.
"Are you asleep?"
After sending this message, Cheng Zhao closed his phone and stared blankly at the stairs below. What would he do if she fell asleep? This question didn't bother him for long. Instead, it reminded him of his childhood, when he would sit quietly at Gan Ling's door, just like now, waiting for her to open and lead him in.
Most of the time it was Liu Xiao who called him in a gentle yet distressed voice, "Azhao, why are you sitting here? Aren't you afraid of the cold? Come in quickly."
If it was Gan Ling who opened the door, she would not say anything, but just wait for him with the door open. He also didn't need to be polite, he could just stand up, brush off the dust on his butt, and go in.
No matter who of the two people opened the door for him, he would feel happy, as if it were another form of returning home, a home that truly warmed his heart.
He was genuinely drunk, and suddenly he began to wonder if he was still five or six years old, waiting for someone he loved to open the door for him. The intervening twenty-plus years seemed like a lie, a mere fantasy of his childhood.
His cell phone rang, he opened it and saw that Gan Ling had replied to his message.
"What's up?"
Cheng Zhao pursed her lips, and her mood suddenly relaxed. It seemed that she had not slept.
"I'm at your door, can you come out?"
Gan Ling didn't reply. Cheng Zhao didn't ask any further questions and continued to wait patiently.
Five or six minutes later, Cheng Zhao heard some noise and turned around. The door opened and Gan Ling came out. She was wearing a casual shirt over her nightgown and her long hair was draped over her shoulders. Just like before, her whole body seemed to be glowing.
Gan Ling walked down the stairs and stopped at his eye level, looking at him carefully in the corridor light.
"Drinking?"
"Um."
"Why don't you go home?"
"Which home are you talking about?"
Gan Ling seemed to sigh, "What do you want from me?"
"It's okay, I just wanted to come see you... Gan Ling, are you happy?"
Gan Ling turned her eyes away and looked at the stairs below. After a while, she said, "I'll take you back."
"I don't want to go back, it's still early!"
"How can it be early? It's almost twelve o'clock."
"Then why aren't you asleep yet?"
“…”
"Gan Ling, why are you always silent? I feel uneasy when you don't speak. I'm afraid I'll say something wrong and make you unhappy."
"I'm not unhappy, but you should rest."
Cheng Zhao felt the alcohol taking effect. His whole body was hot and his mind was not very clear, but he felt at ease. His restless heart finally settled down in front of this person.
He pointed upstairs, "I'm going back to sleep in my old home. But I can't get up. Can you help me up?"
Gan Ling stepped forward, extending her hand. Cheng Zhao took it, then felt a force pull him upward. They instantly leaned against each other. Gan Ling stood taller than he, so they were face to face, able to see each other clearly. Gan Ling didn't look much like her mother; she resembled her father more. But her expression was a near-copy of Liu Xiao's. She looked at Cheng Zhao with tenderness in her eyes.
Cheng Zhao wanted to hold her in his arms, bury his face in her chest and have a good cry.
"Can you walk?"
"Um."
Gan Ling supported Cheng Zhao and walked upstairs.
"Do you have your keys?"
“No need to bring it.”
Cheng Zhao stopped in front of the old house, stood on tiptoe, and carefully felt the door frame with his hand. After a moment, something fell and made a tinkling sound on the cement floor. Before Cheng Zhao could say anything, Gan Ling leaned over and picked up the key.
"My hands are a little out of control." Cheng Zhao muttered.
Gan Ling opened the door and the two of them went in. Gan Ling turned on the switch and turned on the light as if she were familiar with the place.
"You're so careless, leaving the key there without worrying about it being discovered."
"There's nothing at home, so if they want to steal, it's up to them."
Aside from a few common pieces of furniture that Cheng's mother had moved, the rest of the old house remained largely untouched, remaining exactly where it had been. Against the wall of the cramped living room sat a hardwood sofa, which Cheng's mother hadn't taken away because it was too uncomfortable.
Cheng Zhao sat on this old-fashioned sofa and felt the fever getting worse. He couldn't sit still and simply lay down.
"I'm thirsty." He said to Gan Ling, his tone unconsciously carrying a hint of coquettishness.
Gan Ling walked into the kitchen. A moment later, Cheng Zhao heard the sound of running water. First, someone washing their hands, then water pouring into a kettle. It sounded refreshing and soothing. He folded his left arm across his forehead and, without realizing it, fell asleep.
Consciousness condensed into a tiny black dot, and after some unknown twist and turn, it suddenly expanded into a huge ball. It hit Cheng Zhao's face like an airbag, waking him up.
He sat up suddenly and looked around. His memory was quickly awakened. Reality rushed towards him from all directions like a chaotic puzzle, and then cleverly pieced together to form a complete picture.
Gan Ling walked out of the kitchen. On a worn bamboo tray, there was a teapot and a teacup, which did not match.
"I found some tea leaves, I think they were Pu'er, I don't know when they were made, I washed them three times, and they smell fine."
Cheng Zhao took the cup. The water was just the right temperature. He drank from it in big gulps, as if he was drinking nectar. His body was like a field, being irrigated thoroughly, and he felt extremely comfortable.
"More?"
"That's enough. You don't want to drink?"
"I still want to sleep!" Gan Ling looked at him, "Are you sleeping here tonight?"
Cheng Zhao nodded.
Gan Ling ran to the bedroom and saw that the bed was still there, but the bed board was bare and there was nothing on it.
Cheng Zhao said, "It's not cold anyway, so I can just take a nap."
"Let me get you a blanket. You'll be cold if you fall asleep."
"Wait a minute, okay?" Cheng Zhao called her, pleading in his eyes, "Sit with me for a while, just a few minutes."
Gan Ling thought for a moment, moved a domino stool next to the sofa, and said, "If you can walk, go wash your hands. The cups are dirty."
Cheng Zhao looked down at his palms and saw two black spots. He grinned, "How come I didn't notice it before?"
He could walk, but when he stepped on something, it felt like he was stepping on a pile of cotton, which made him suspect that he was dreaming.
After washing her hands, Gan Ling sat on the domino stool, her feet on the side rails and her hands on the stool, exactly the way she sat as a child. She was looking around the room.
"What are you looking at?" Cheng Zhao sat back down.
"Look at how much stuff your mother has moved." Gan Ling retracted her gaze. "It should be half, right?"
"almost."
"This house looks quite big even though half of the stuff is missing. I remember coming to your house when I was a kid, and it was very crowded back then."
"Haha, my mom can't bear to throw anything away."
"Why didn't you sell this place?"
"You didn't sell it either?"
"My dad won't sell it."
"I keep it to remind myself what kind of person I used to be."
Gan Ling blinked and said nothing. Cheng Zhao hadn't told the truth, of course. He'd kept it to maintain that tenuous connection with Gan Ling. He was right, otherwise they wouldn't be sitting across from each other in the middle of the night.
"Your mother rarely comes home now. Aunt Kang said that when we first moved out, she would come back every few days to clean the house."
"I told her not to come back. There's nothing good about this place." Cheng Zhao glanced at Gan Ling. "But once you move back, this place will be different."
Gan Ling ignored him and said, "You should go to bed early. You have to go to work tomorrow."
"Gan Ling..."
"I'll get you a blanket."
Cheng Zhao watched her get up in frustration, and walked towards the door with nimble steps. Suddenly, something occurred to him, "Key!"
Gan Ling looked back, and Cheng Zhao shrugged, "It's hard for me to walk, so you take it with you—or just keep it for me from now on!"
Gan Ling rolled her eyes at him, took the key from the table and left.
With the departure of the people, the house seemed suddenly empty. Cheng Zhao felt an unprecedented weariness, unable to resist lying down again. The dizzy, burning sensation washed over him again. His five senses were paralyzed, yet strangely, his sense of smell was unusually acute. He could smell the past: the stale smell of food, and the lingering rage of his father. He slept deeper and deeper in this familiar odor.
In his dream, he was back on the bus at 17, filled with anxiety and excitement, sitting right next to the girl he loved passionately. The bus slowed down, approaching the stop, and he knew Gan Ling would get off. He was so reluctant to let her go, always reluctant to leave, never daring to say a word, letting her disappear before his eyes.
He suddenly found the courage and grabbed her hand, "Don't go!"
The girl took her foot out and then retracted it, returning to the quiet and warm world of two people with him.
Cheng Zhao felt sweet and at ease. This time, he would not let her leave alone...
When he woke up, it was already daybreak, and his head was aching slightly. He didn't know if it was from the drinking or sleeping on the hardwood sofa. He grumbled and climbed up, throwing off the blanket. Then he thought of something and looked down. The plain fleece blanket didn't belong to him, so Gan Ling had indeed come in after he fell asleep last night.
He gathered himself, stood up, and saw breakfast on the dining table: rice porridge, a boiled egg, and two fried dough sticks. Next to the kettle was a clean, empty cup. The warmth of his dream carried over into reality.
After washing up, Cheng Zhao poured himself a half-cup of boiled water and drank it, feeling much better. Then he sat down to eat breakfast. The key was placed next to the kettle, with a small note: "Remember to keep the key safe."
Cheng Zhao smiled and put the key into his pocket.
When going downstairs and passing by Room 302, Cheng Zhao hesitated for a long time, but finally mustered up the courage to knock on the door. When waiting for the door to open, he cleared his throat and adjusted his hair like a comedian before going on stage. In the end, it was Wu Juan, not Gan Ling, who opened the door.
"Xiao Cheng, are you looking for Gan Ling?"
Cheng Zhao forced a smile, "Is she home?"
"She's not here. She went to the bookstore a long time ago! You can call her!"
"Oh—thank you!"
"You're welcome. The rice porridge you sent last time was delicious."
Cheng Zhao was happy, "Tell me when you're done eating, and I'll send it back to you."
"Hey, okay!"
Cheng Zhao sent a message to Gan Ling, saying thank you, but then felt it was awkward, so he deleted it all and only wrote one sentence: I have kept the key.
Gan Ling never came back.
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