Chapter 3 The fledgling bird, oblivious to everything, nestled into his arms. ...
Qiao Zimu saw her standing at the door and came over to look, thus exposing himself to the view from the other side.
A dangerous silence quickly spread.
Meng Cenjun noticed that the sleeves of the two were pressed together because of their close proximity, and her gaze sharpened even more.
Qiao Zimu was afraid that this situation would embarrass her, and he wanted to say something to explain, but Lan Jia reached out and pushed him inside first.
"Don't speak yet."
He fell silent, but his expression was not good, and he let her close the door. Through the increasingly narrow gap, Meng Cenjun watched him, her eyes as calm as an icy lake.
The night was pitch black, and the bottom of the lake was as cold as a frozen pool.
It wasn't until the door was completely closed that Qiao Zimu belatedly realized something was wrong.
Was Meng Cenyun too hostile towards him?
Outside the door, Lan Jia clutched the hem of her clothes and moved forward step by step.
"Brother... why did you come out?"
"I knocked on the door just now, but you weren't home."
She inexplicably sensed a cold sneer in the air, realizing that they had been lying in wait, waiting for her to walk into their trap.
"What time is it now? Are you ignoring what I said?" Meng Cenjun's voice deepened, already showing her anger.
She had just had a falling out with Qiao Zimu because of him, and now she was being lectured by him. Even though she was usually mild-mannered, she couldn't help but feel a surge of anger.
"What did I do wrong again?" she asked, a little impatiently.
"Why aren't you resting in your room? What are you doing wandering around?"
"Can't I even talk to my friend for a bit?"
"Why can't we talk about this tomorrow? What kind of behavior is it to be alone in a room with someone so late at night?" How could he not understand what a boy his age is thinking all day long?
Looking at his cold and stern expression, Kelanjia felt a surge of resentment that she couldn't let out. Qiao Zimu was right; why should she always have to bow down to him?
Is he always so domineering in controlling her, and only stops when he has driven everyone around her away?
Thinking of all the humiliations she had suffered before, she clenched her fists and finally stood up for herself: "He's not just anyone, he's my best friend!"
I don't care who he is!
She was startled when he suddenly raised his voice, causing her pupils to shrink.
Meng Cenjun noticed that she unconsciously took a step back, and her expression darkened further.
"Yi Lanjia, you always forget the things you promised me as soon as you turn your back."
Upon hearing this accusation, Lan Jia's eyes immediately reddened. She was at a loss and almost choked out, "Then what do you want me to do?"
She turned her back, then turned back anxiously, tears streaming down her face as she looked at him: "I'm hurt, my hand hurts, I just want someone to help me, is that wrong?"
"Then why didn't you come to me?"
"That's because you only get angry at me!" she yelled at him without thinking.
"I really don't understand, do you have to be so harsh on me?"
"And you say you did all this just to satisfy your paranoid desire for control?"
After he finished speaking, Meng Cenjun stood there, stunned.
After a long pause, his voice softened, slightly hoarse, and tinged with disbelief: "Lan Jia, is this how you think of me?"
She avoided his outstretched hand, remained silent, and retreated step by step like a timid rabbit, hiding in her burrow.
Seeing the door tightly closed, Meng Cenjun closed her eyes in frustration.
Qiao Zimu withdrew his peeping gaze from the peephole, his mind a jumble of thoughts.
Caught in the eye of the storm, he knew that his presence would only add fuel to the fire. But the thought of Lan Jia's tears filled him with unbearable resentment for not standing in front of her. He gripped the handle, suppressing his anger, and finally, despite the pressure, he rushed out.
Meng Cenjun composed herself and stared indifferently at the young man in front of her, whose delicate and frail face was like thin porcelain, and who was the same age as her sister.
He couldn't say he disliked or rejected him, but every time he was in front of him, he was reminded time and time again of the fact that he was ten years older than them, which created a sense of distance between them.
From the time Lan Jia was seven years old, Qiao Zimu became her constant companion, always by her side.
When she first met him, Lan Jia took him home. The two of them held hands and cried in front of Ms. Yi until their noses turned red. He asked if he could marry Lan Jia in the future.
He was much older than them, and in his eyes, it was just childish talk, nothing to be taken seriously. But the longer it went on, the more he realized that it wasn't a joke, but rather, like a worm slowly eroding, he began to steal Lan Jia's attention.
He didn't know why he cared so much, why he was so preoccupied, and why he even felt a hidden sense of crisis, like an ancient tribe being harassed and invaded by wild beasts that smelled of meat. But if he were to actually pick up a weapon to drive them away and fight back, it would be like returning to civilized society, where an unfair victory would only make him feel embarrassed.
Moreover, the beast was still just a cub.
Like Lanca, he was just a child.
He knew this feeling was far from hostility; it might be a little resentful, but it was mostly envy. He envied his age, envied his ability to get along with her, and envied how easily he could make her happy.
However, he did not expect that this young man whom he admired would solemnly tell him at this moment: "In Lan Jia's heart, you are actually much more important than she imagines."
“Brother Cen Jun, Lan Jia was injured on the boat while saving someone, it wasn’t her fault. As for our relationship, it was my oversight and blurred the boundaries, I will pay attention in the future.”
"Lan Jia is sensitive. Sometimes she seems indifferent, but a harsh word can hurt her. She cares about your opinion and your feelings, which is why she takes things to heart."
Qiao Zimu pursed her lips, mustered her courage, and looked him directly in the eye.
"Please, don't be too harsh on her, okay?"
For some inexplicable reason, Meng Cenjun secretly developed a possessive feeling, thinking to herself, "How much do you really know about my sister?"
But he remained unmoved, saying only in an unusually cold tone, "This is between me and Lan Jia."
A deafening clap of thunder descended, and midnight in Galveston felt like the end of the world.
The branches of the tallow tree outside the window were rattling and knocking in the strong wind, like ghosts knocking on the window.
Lan Jiase huddled under the covers, tossing and turning, helplessly covering her head with the blanket amidst the deafening bangs.
Unable to sleep, she instinctively reached for something on her pillow, only to find nothing. Her heart skipped a beat, and she sat bolt upright in bed, searching frantically, but it was nowhere to be found.
The bedside drawer wasn't there, the suitcase wasn't there, the wardrobe wasn't there, it wasn't anywhere...
She ran around the room like she was on fire, then suddenly remembered something and rushed out to knock on the door.
Qiao Zimu had just finished showering and hadn't even put on his clothes yet when he heard a rapid knocking at the door. He went to open it, wearing only a bath towel.
"Lan Jia?" he exclaimed with delight.
His gaze shifted downwards, and seeing her standing barefoot on the cold floor, he frowned again: "Why aren't you wearing shoes?"
"My blue scarf is missing. Is it with you? I can't find it anywhere." She lowered her voice, her anxiety almost bringing her to tears.
Qiao Zimu's mind went blank for a moment.
Because he knew how important this thing was to her.
The smoky blue silk scarf with a pony pattern was a comforting item that Lan Jia had carried with her since childhood. He had seen it before, but she never let him touch it.
After thinking carefully for a moment, his expression turned serious. "Lan Jia isn't with me."
"Oh no, I must have forgotten to take it with me when I got off the ship."
She sat on the ground, feeling utterly exhausted, and rubbed her hair into a mess.
"Will they throw it away when they clean the room?"
Having been with her for over a decade, the silk scarf was so worn that it was just a tiny tattered piece, and anyone would have treated it as trash.
"How could I make such a mistake, forgetting about it..."
She clutched her head; her whole world seemed to collapse.
"Lan Jia, don't worry. We can't go out to sea in this weather, and there won't be any new passengers. The stuff is definitely still on the ship. I'll contact the cruise line right now, and they'll definitely get it back."
Qiao Zimu held her shoulders and helped her up.
"Go and rest first, okay? I'll give you an answer tomorrow morning."
Lan Jia leaned against the wall, looking lost and dejected. She suffered from severe separation anxiety. Ever since she was five years old and tried to sleep alone, her mother's silk scarf had always been her comfort before bed. Its unique touch and scent made her able to sense even the slightest difference.
What's the difference between suddenly losing something so important and climbing to the top of a snow-capped mountain only to find you've run out of oxygen?
Qiao Zimu patiently persuaded her for a long time before she finally drifted back to her room like a ghost, completely dazed.
Unsurprisingly, she suffered from insomnia. She also had asthma, and her doctor advised against smelling fragrances or touching flowers, so she couldn't use many things that were supposed to help her sleep.
Lan Jia sat blankly on the bed, troubled for a while, and finally chose to pick up the small medicine bottle from the bedside table.
She swallowed the pills and lay back down, her heart still pounding erratically. It took an unknown amount of time for it to gradually calm down. All around was darkness, with only the sound of the wind. In her hazy consciousness, she felt as if a demonic hand was pulling her downwards.
Separated by only a wall, Meng Cenjun, as always, found it difficult to fall asleep. In the dim light of the beige lamp, he sat listlessly on the sofa, staring blankly at the gift box on the coffee table.
Every time he went on a business trip, he would bring Lan Jia a gift, a tradition that had lasted for many years.
In the past, Lan Jia would rush over like an excited little bird before he even entered the door. But now, they seem to be growing more and more distant.
Lan Jia began to have secrets; Lan Jia no longer subconsciously relied on him; Lan Jia was even afraid of him...
He had pondered more than once whether he was truly binding her too much, but he couldn't find a way to do so.
The nest is still surrounded by dangers, how can he let the chicks fly around freely?
Having suffered losses and been deceived, he no longer trusts anyone in this world.
Meng Cenjun closed the gift box again, hesitantly thinking: perhaps she would feel better tomorrow.
When children throw a tantrum, they'll be fine after a good night's sleep.
That's what he was thinking.
A terrified scream suddenly came from the next room.
He suddenly stood up, followed by a series of loud bangings on the door, interspersed with a few weak shouts.
With her heart clenching, Meng Cenjun hurriedly opened the door and met Lan Jia's panicked, tearful eyes.
"elder brother……"
She seemed to find her balance all at once, and fell headfirst into his arms without a care in the world.
Meng Cenjun was knocked back a step, stunned for a moment, and then hugged her tightly with both arms.
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