Buzz—buzz—
The phone on the bedside table vibrated.
Jiang Que reached out from under the quilt, took out his cell phone and stopped the alarm he had set before going to bed.
He had gone to bed late last night, and coupled with the chaotic dreams and morning dizziness caused by low blood sugar, he had to close his eyes again and relax for a long time before he could barely support his tired body and sit up.
05:00 in the morning.
It was still pitch black outside the window.
Jiang Que got out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash up quickly. He came out and turned off all the power in the room. Then he dragged the suitcase he had packed last night and opened the door.
The night light in the corridor was still on, and it looked no different from the middle of the night. The door of Song Yecheng's room opposite was closed tightly, and it was obvious that the owner of the room was still asleep.
Although the floor was covered with thick carpet, Jiang Que still picked up the suitcase carefully, slowed down his pace and walked through the corridor as quietly as possible.
After going downstairs, he added some food and water to Baimao's lunch box, touched its sleepy head and said goodbye to it, then dragged the box out of the villa.
The villa was very deserted at around five in the morning.
The street lights were off, and the sky was still dark. The dim light made everything look gray and black. The only sound of the suitcase wheels rolling on the empty and silent road echoed in my ears, as if the whole world had not yet woken up.
Jiang Que was quite used to this kind of desolation, which made him feel relaxed and safe. However, when he walked down the back mountain, passed through the forest path with swaying tree shadows, and crossed the covered bridge over the lake, his mind couldn't help but emerge with the scene of him and Song Yecheng chatting side by side as they walked through the garden area and walked back to the villa under the moonlight every night after work.
Although he was not alone at those moments, he seemed equally relaxed and comfortable, not feeling restrained. In comparison, the loneliness and coldness in front of him seemed a little inferior.
When Jiang Que realized what he was comparing, he was stunned for a moment, and then he couldn't help but sneer, thinking with a bit of self-mockery: It is really easy to go from frugality to extravagance, but difficult to go from extravagance to frugality.
As he walked and thought about everything, he soon passed through the garden area and arrived at the parking lot in front of the reception hall.
The parking lot was also empty at this moment. Various vehicles were parked quietly and neatly, and none of them looked like they were waiting for anyone.
Jiang Que took out his cell phone and opened the message. Just as he took a look at the license plate number that Zhuang Yan had sent him last night, he heard a short horn not far ahead.
He looked up and saw a car with its red hazard lights flashing towards his silver-gray sedan.
The horn and the double flashes were obviously a warning. Jiang Que guessed that the driver must have seen him in the rearview mirror, so he followed the advice and dragged the box towards the car.
When he approached the rear of the car, the trunk popped open with a click. Jiang Que glanced at the license plate and put the suitcase in after confirming that it was correct.
Closing the trunk, he walked around to the right and opened the back door. Just as he leaned in halfway, he saw the driver in the front seat turned his head.
"Good morning, Mr. Bai?"
Jiang Que paused, and was stunned for a moment.
"Why is it you?"
Sitting in the driver's seat was Song Yecheng, whom he thought was still sleeping.
The first rays of morning light shone through the windshield, illuminating half of Song Yecheng's face, making his vibrant smile even more refreshing. He met Jiang Que's surprised gaze with a smile, and asked with a hint of pride, "How was it? Was it a surprise?"
This was more than just a surprise. Jiang Que was so shocked that he almost forgot to speak. After a long while, he nodded slowly, "When did you get up?"
"Only half an hour earlier than you." Song Yecheng said.
After returning to the villa last night, he had already greeted Zhuang Yan and said that he was going to take Jiang Que to the airport himself. Zhuang Yan had no objection and arranged a car for him that was used by the crew, and then sent the license plate number to both of them.
At this moment, Song Yecheng looked at Jiang Que, who was half-bent over and hadn't yet sat down, and couldn't help but raise his eyebrows jokingly: "Are you sure you want to sit in the back seat? Leave me alone in the front seat, feeling lonely and cold?"
Regardless of emotion or reason, Jiang Que should naturally sit in the front row in this situation. This is not a big deal, but at that moment his heart suddenly skipped a beat.
He hadn't sat in the front row for a long time.
To him, it was like a forbidden land that he could not set foot in, a trap filled with blood-stained thorns and caltrops, and a cage built by the strange tentacles of nightmares.
However, his struggle and hesitation only lasted for two seconds.
Before Song Yecheng noticed anything unusual, he had come to his senses in a flash, smiled lightly as if nothing had happened, stepped out of the back seat, and opened the passenger door.
White clouds drifted leisurely across the sky, the morning light sprinkled on the sprouting branches through the morning mist, and dewdrops swayed and slid down from the tips of the grass, silently soaking the soil in the early spring in the north.
The silver-gray sedan was driving at a constant speed on the road, with the windows on both sides slightly open. The breeze blew in wisps of the fragrance of green grass, making the air in the car fresh and invigorating.
Although Song Yecheng doesn't have many opportunities to drive, as an experienced driver with more than ten years of driving experience, he thinks his skills are pretty good.
However, as soon as the car drove onto the suburban highway, he noticed that Jiang Que beside him was holding the seat belt with his hands, sitting upright, and looking around with a serious expression. If someone didn't know him, they might think he was the one driving.
Song Yecheng put his hands on the steering wheel and glanced at him several times. Finally, he couldn't help laughing and said, "Is it necessary to be so nervous? Am I that terrible at driving?"
In fact, it was not scary. On the contrary, his driving skills were quite proficient. The speed was not slow but very stable. Even the few sharp turns on the mountain roads he passed before did not make people feel much weightlessness caused by centrifugal force.
Jiang Que's current state was purely instinctive. Before Song Yecheng spoke, he didn't even realize that his body was so obviously tense.
It was not until he heard Song Yecheng's words that he seemed to wake up and hastily loosened his hands that were tightly gripping the seat belt. He withdrew his gaze from the front and glanced to the side, and happened to meet Song Yecheng's teasing gaze.
Jiang Que smiled apologetically and was about to explain something when the phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated.
The vibrations continued, clearly an incoming call rather than a message. Jiang Que took out his phone, glanced at it, then slid it to unlock and answered the call: "Hello?"
"Are you up yet? What time is your flight?"
In the quiet carriage, even Song Yecheng could hear the lively voice on the other end of the phone clearly.
"On the way." Jiang Que replied.
"What time do you arrive?" the other party continued to ask, "Should I go out now? Or should I go later?"
Jiang Que said: "You don't need to answer, I can do it myself——"
"Come on," the other party interrupted immediately. "Oh, I asked you to come back to help, and now I'm leaving you running around on your own. How can I be so embarrassed? Stop it, hurry up, what time are you landing?"
Jiang Que choked, thinking to himself, what's there to be embarrassed about? But he didn't insist any more and said, "A little after ten o'clock."
"Okay, then I'll go meet you early. Call me when you land."
"Okay." Jiang Que responded, hung up the phone, and put the phone back in his pocket.
Song Yecheng, who was standing next to him, looked ahead and asked casually, "He Jingsheng?"
"Yeah," Jiang Que said, "He asked me what time I would arrive."
Song Yecheng said "Oh" nonchalantly, but for some reason, a few sour tears welled up in his heart. He unconsciously raised his index finger on the steering wheel and tapped it a few times. Finally, he couldn't help but ask, "Why did he insist on you recording the accompaniment for him? I remember his company signed a lot of musicians, but there wasn't a single one who could play the piano well?"
Jiang Que himself was actually quite frustrated by this question, so he could only paraphrase He Jingsheng's own words to explain, "He wrote that song at school, and he shared some of his thoughts with me at the time, so he felt that I could better understand his... mental journey."
Wow, do you understand the mental journey?
Song Yecheng's heart was filled with sourness, almost bubbling. He thought: Does this mean I've found a soulmate? Does He Jingsheng mistake you two for Boya and Ziqi?
After muttering inwardly, he finally suppressed his urge to be sarcastic and said stiffly, "What's his mental journey?"
Jiang Que thought for a moment and then summarized it uncertainly: "Maybe it's... I can't get what I want, and I can't stop thinking about it?"
Song Yecheng instantly pricked up his feathers, thinking that it was okay to be a soulmate, but how could this involve a relationship between a man and a woman? He immediately asked, "Who does he want to ask for help?"
Jiang Que clearly sensed the vigilance in his tone, but he didn't understand where this vigilance came from.
This question wasn't easy to answer, so Jiang Que struggled to organize his words before explaining, "When he was in college...his love life was rather bumpy. The girls he admired either already had partners or were just being nice to him, so he might have been a little...frustrated."
Hearing the two key words "senior sister and junior sister", the sour bubble in Song Yecheng's heart finally burst with joy, and he thought with peace of mind and joy: Oh - it turns out he is a straight man.
Thinking about it, he nodded leisurely: "Very good."
Jiang Que:?
It's no wonder he was confused. He had just finished talking about He Jingsheng's bumpy love life when Song Yecheng immediately followed up with a sentence that was good. If someone didn't know, they might have thought he was gloating.
However, Song Yecheng didn't explain much, and changed the subject in a light-hearted tone: "By the way, did your mother teach you to play the piano?"
The last time Qi Tingyu came, he said that Jiang Que's adoptive mother was a piano teacher. Now that he knew that Jiang Que could also play the piano, Song Yecheng naturally came to this conclusion.
However, Jiang Que did not confirm it immediately. He seemed to hesitate for a moment and answered ambiguously, "I guess so."
"Believe it is?" Song Yecheng didn't quite understand the meaning of this sentence. He thought, if it is, it is, and if it is not, it is not. What does "believe it is" mean?
Jiang Que felt somewhat helpless, but he still carefully chose his words to explain, "I did learn from her, but she... never taught me."
This statement contained a lot of information. Song Yecheng pondered it for a while, and the word "stealing skills" suddenly popped up in his mind. He guessed uncertainly: "So you actually learned it by yourself, and she doesn't know?"
Jiang Que nodded and paused for a moment before saying, "She used to teach students in the living room, and I could occasionally hear her from my room. Later, when I was in high school and lived on campus, there was a piano room, so I tried to practice the techniques I had heard, and over time I finally got the hang of it."
This is actually very strange. He had a ready-made teacher and a piano at home, but he listened to the lessons through the door and practiced the piano by himself in the school piano room.
"Why didn't she teach you?" Song Yecheng asked.
Jiang Que stared straight ahead, his fingers unconsciously kneading the seatbelt, and he gave a wry smile with a hint of self-mockery: "Maybe I don't have much talent."
A person who can practice some theoretical techniques by himself just by listening to them, but says here that he has no talent, does not sound credible at all.
Moreover, Song Yecheng could clearly feel that Jiang Que's tone and attitude when talking about his adoptive mother were completely different from when he mentioned his adoptive father before. Those carefully chosen words and hesitation in speaking almost silently expressed some complex emotions.
Song Yecheng hesitated for a while, and finally asked tentatively: "Are you and her... on good terms?"
As expected, after hearing this question, Jiang Que fell into a silence as if he didn't know how to respond properly. After a while, he said lightly, "It's okay."
That's not good.
Song Yecheng thought.
In fact, looking back based on this conclusion, Jiang Que's reluctance to go home when he was living in the school dormitory during high school, his polite yet slightly distant attitude when Qi Tingyu mentioned Ye Ying, and even the image of a foster mother like Qiao Min in "Searching for the Lamp" all seem to have an explanation.
He was just thinking about it when he suddenly heard Jiang Que add, "After all, I'm not her biological child."
Song Yecheng was suddenly stunned. He never expected that he would suddenly reveal such a truth. He seemed to be stuck and forgot to make the correct response at the first time.
After a pause of more than ten seconds, he finally came to his senses and responded, "Ah... yeah, really?"
Jiang Que listened to his slightly flustered words, turned his head and stared at his profile thoughtfully for a moment, then suddenly couldn't help laughing and said, "Didn't you know this a long time ago?"
Song Yecheng's hands trembled, and he almost turned the car into an S-shape. He turned his head and glared at him, his face full of surprise, "How did you know?"
Jiang Que was both helpless and amused, as if he didn't understand why Song Yecheng hadn't thought of it: "Xiao Bei said he told you on the first day."
Song Yecheng's expression went blank for a moment, as if he was stunned by his own stupidity.
However, no matter how shocked he was, he still had to drive, so he forced himself to turn his head and look forward with a blank expression: "When did he tell you?"
Jiang Que looked at his reaction and almost felt that the truth was a bit cruel: "...After talking to you about that day."
Song Yecheng: "..."
My goodness, I've been playing this game of "pretending not to know while the other person already knows you know" for nearly two months? What kind of idiot would do such a thing?
Song Yecheng was speechless and choked up. His back, which had been leaning leisurely on the seat, stiffened a little. He stared at the road ahead and the passing cars. He was speechless for a long time before licking his lips and uttering, "Actually... I am..."
"I understand," Jiang Que suddenly interrupted him softly, "You're afraid I'll be embarrassed if you don't tell me."
His consideration made Song Yecheng feel a little embarrassed. He looked straight ahead, cleared his throat, and said "hmm" awkwardly. Then, as if he felt that this was not enough, he quietly glanced to the side.
This happened to meet Jiang Que's gaze which had not yet been withdrawn.
When he met those clear eyes with rippling water, the vague sense of familiarity that had appeared in his mind several times flashed through his mind again like an electric current, making him a little dazed for a moment.
These eyes... where have I seen them before?
Ding Dong!
At this moment, a WeChat notification sounded from his mobile phone, which was placed on the armrest between the front seats.
Jiang Que immediately looked down, while Song Yecheng, as if waking from a dream, looked back at the road ahead and asked casually, "Who?"
Jiang Que looked at the message push on the screen: "Beans."
"What did he say?"
Jiang Que said: "I can't see it, he sent a picture."
"Picture?" Song Yecheng was a little curious, but he obviously couldn't take a closer look while driving. So he picked up the phone with one hand, unlocked it, and handed it to Jiang Que, "Let me take a look."
His action was so natural that Jiang Que didn't realize something was wrong until he took the phone in his hand. But he had already answered the phone, and any further hesitation would seem pretentious, so he didn't hesitate any longer and opened WeChat as he was told and clicked into Douzi's chat box.
Douzi sent a screenshot of a group chat. Jiang Que clicked on it to enlarge it. He first glanced at the group chat name at the top and said, "This is a screenshot of the chat in your official fan club's main group."
"Oh." Song Yecheng's interest suddenly waned.
Douzi often sends him screenshots like this. Every time, he either uses his fans to complain about his laziness in posting on Weibo, or he lets him witness the new joke teller among his fans. There is basically nothing serious going on.
The car was approaching the airport. Song Yecheng turned on his lights and said nonchalantly, "What's going on in the group?"
After asking this question, Jiang Que did not respond for a long time.
At first, Song Yecheng thought he hadn't finished reading, but until the beeping of the turn signal stopped and the car drove some distance on the straight road, he waited for a long time but still heard no sound.
Finally, he belatedly noticed something strange, turned around in confusion and said "Huh?"
When he turned around, he was surprised to find that Jiang Que was staring at the screen with an embarrassed look on his face. If you look closely, it seems that his ears are a little red.
Song Yecheng was immediately more puzzled: "What's going on?"
Could it be that someone in his fan group was telling dirty jokes while driving?
Jiang Que blinked, and after a long time he looked up at Song Yecheng, but as soon as their eyes met, he looked away.
Song Yecheng:?
Jiang Que silently locked his phone and put it back on the armrest. His face flushed slightly as he said, "You should wait until you have time to read it yourself."
This appetite was too full, making Song Yecheng feel like a cat's claws scratching his heart, but at the same time he couldn't help but laugh: "What did they say?"
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