Chapter 39
I don't want to ask further because I've grown up.
But the true tragedy of life does not refer to this kind of thing.
...
On the third day of her holiday, the secretary walked into the office in her high heels. Before she could even speak, her smile froze.
I've probably never smelled smoke here before, so the little girl pinched her nose, fanned herself, and gasped, "Teacher Nan... are you starting a fire?"
You were still not fully awake, rubbing your tired temples. You remained seated in your office chair. Your secretary drew back the curtains and opened the window, letting in the bright sunlight. A gentle breeze stirred the stuffy room, dispersing the thick smoke.
"Is your vacation over?"
You instinctively blocked it, and when you opened your mouth, you found your throat dry and hoarse. You couldn't help but cough several times, your eyes slightly narrowed, and you extinguished the cigarette between your fingers.
The secretary gave a slow, hesitant reply, her eyes scanning the completed semester plan on the table, various takeout containers, an overflowing ashtray, a thin blanket on the sofa, and a coat and phone tossed on the floor…
"Teacher Nan, you haven't been home for the past few days?"
Your head throbs, and you stand up wearily, saying as usual, "I had to take care of something and forgot the time. Could you call a housekeeper to tidy up this place?"
The secretary looked alarmed: "Has something happened to our training institution? Have we been complained about?"
"No, it's..."
The long-standing, chaotic sleep schedule finally erupted in protest. You suddenly bent over, coughing violently, as if gripped tightly by a giant iron hand and pressed to the floor, unable to stand up for a moment.
The secretary was startled and rushed over to help you up, but as a petite girl, she was clearly no match for your height of over 1.8 meters, and they both fell to the ground.
You can't see your own face, but if a normally healthy man suddenly looks gloomy and tired, with heavy thoughts, and his hand trembling slightly when he raises it, it's probably not a good sign.
Suddenly everything went black, and unsurprisingly, I woke up in the hospital.
The secretary was peeling an orange when she saw you open your eyes. Her eyes reddened, and she threw herself onto the hospital bed, sobbing, "Boss, you've worked so hard for us! You even worked overtime until you collapsed during the holiday! I'm so happy to work for you, sob sob..."
You were caught between laughter and tears, and there was no point in offering any explanations.
Since there's nothing seriously wrong, just simple weakness, there's no need for hospitalization for observation.
You promised to take a good rest and recuperate with the spirit of all the staff, so you persuaded your secretary to leave and took a taxi home.
Not long after the Mid-Autumn Festival, red lanterns were still hanging in the shopping malls outside, and the festive billboards had not been taken down. The Jade Rabbit hopped around, leading a brood of happy, reunited little rabbits.
You looked through the car window the whole way, and suddenly your gaze met the silhouette reflected in the glass.
The person in the shadow was tall and thin, with cold eyes that were now dazed and moved, like a lake that was about to dry up. Upon closer inspection, all that remained was the weariness of an adult, the weariness of life continuing even after the fireworks have burned out.
You arrived home safely, changed into slippers, and turned on the lights in your room.
The room was quiet. You looked up and saw that on the other side of the corridor, the furniture, completely renovated and with a drastically changed style, looked like someone else's living room bathed in a warm white light.
Standing outside the door, you suddenly felt a little suffocated.
Meanwhile, an interior designer on the other side of the city received a call. He had just taken possession of his new apartment and was in a period of relaxation when he saw the caller ID and answered it unexpectedly.
I was prepared to receive the employer's sincere praise, but after a few pleasantries, the employer said very earnestly, "The renovation looks great, I'm very satisfied, but how long would it take to revert it to its original state?"
The next time I received a call from Fang Xu was on the third day after the Mid-Autumn Festival holiday.
His voice on the phone was still pleasant, but it carried a hint of guilt from not having been in touch for several days: "Teacher Nan?"
You've just finished a meeting and are having a quick lunch in the office. Since it's inconvenient to find your Bluetooth headphones, you simply turn on the speakerphone. Aside from saying "hello" after the call connects, you don't say anything more.
The air was still and silent, with the air conditioner humming softly.
Fang Xu was silent for a moment, seemingly unsure how to respond. You are usually so peaceful and tolerant, never making anyone feel awkward. It's rare to see you so cold. Therefore, he was a little uneasy and also a little puzzled: "I originally planned to come back yesterday, but I haven't finished my work yet."
"So, what is it for?"
Upon hearing you speak, Fang Xu quickly replied, "I'm helping a friend plan their business opening."
"Didn't you go for a month?"
"right……"
You tapped your pen tip lightly, smiled, and said with an adult-like sarcasm, "Actually, I've done a lot of event planning before. Could the fact that it's taken so long just be because of my own incompetence?"
Fang Xu didn't speak, a little confused, and didn't know what to say.
The pen spins between your fingers, making a soft, ticking sound.
You waited for his reply, wanting to see how he would react. After a while, the young man's somewhat anxious and hurried voice came out: "...Teacher Nan, are you angry? Did you come to see me that day? I saw your missed call, but you haven't replied to my text messages since then."
You didn't hold back: "Yeah, I really wanted to see you at the time, so I went to check it out, but it was my own business anyway, so we didn't meet."
The words were too explicit, seemingly ambiguous, yet so frank that there wasn't a trace of ambiguity. Fang Xu didn't know how to respond, as if he had touched a strange thorny ball, disrupting his rhythm and leaving him at a loss for words.
“Let’s meet at the suburban screening room tonight,” he said.
You answered quickly: "Why?"
Fang Xu was stunned, unable to understand for a moment that this was also a topic. He was a little annoyed and confused: "I miss you."
You smiled, your expression indifferent, and your tone unchanged: "That's your own business."
Children have their own nature, and adults have their own advantages.
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