Chapter 107 — Deceiving Oneself

In Cloud City, November brought a day-night temperature swing of more than ten degrees. In daylight, if the sun was out, the air at least felt bearable, not too cold; but once night fell, the chill became merciless.

Su Yihui walked alone through the dim, indifferent streets. From the Bookish Tea House to where he lived there was only one direct bus, but it had finished its day’s service hours ago. The only remaining route required a kilometer’s walk to reach the entrance of his residential complex.

When he got off work, Cheng Shuguang had told him not to be stingy, to take a cab home. Su Yihui had kept his head lowered and answered softly.

If one were to open a telephoto lens, the two of them standing face to face would be fixed within the same frame, a gentle glimmer of light falling from a particular angle. A scene like that, even years later, would still seem classic when savored slowly.

After ten at night, the various shops near Cloud East closed one by one, and the lights in the surrounding housing complexes also faded in turn. It was like a dead city.

Li Nanzhi’s car happened to have a tire punctured by someone, and she was deeply puzzled. It had clearly been parked in front of her own restaurant, so why had it become the target of malicious damage?

Real life and film scenes shared the same kind of plot: bizarre, melodramatic, and absurd.

That was simply how it happened, with not the slightest room for discussion.

And so the rest of the story proceeded steadily along its predetermined course.

Su Yihui watched that sedan, which had almost become his reserved vehicle, sweep away down Maple Forest Road, vanishing quickly into the dusk. He followed behind it, went to the station, and waited for the last bus.

“Is it really all right for you to send me back?” Li Nanzhi asked, one hand resting at her neck. After more than ten hours of work each day, she had gradually developed a hidden ache there. “Will it be safe for Little Su to go back alone?”

“He’s already an adult. What’s unsafe about it?” Cheng Shuguang rolled his eyes and switched the headlights from low to high beam. “Your car is broken. Whether in reason or sentiment, I have to send you home. You’re a young woman; that’s the unsafe part.”

Li Nanzhi listened to him speak in such polite, distant terms. Everything he did was only because reason and decency required it, not because he truly meant it. “I could actually just take a cab home.”

“Cabs are unsafe.” He looked straight ahead.

“What’s unsafe about them?” She kept her eyes on the road ahead as well.

“Have you not seen the news online? Women taking cabs late at night and running into trouble—there are stories like that everywhere now.” Cheng Shuguang sounded like a scholar who understood the world all too well.

“And you feel reassured about him?” Li Nanzhi’s brow tightened slightly as she asked in a low, distant voice.

“Who?” Cheng Shuguang pretended not to know.

“Who else?” Li Nanzhi gave a bitter smile. “Do you need me to say his name?”

“Where are you letting your imagination run off to?” Cheng Shuguang shifted into overdrive and pressed harder on the accelerator, transferring the truth that was about to slip out into the suddenly rising speed. “Xiao—” He thought he must not say “Little Hui,” and in time clamped his lips shut. “Young Su has his own life. We’re just boss and employee. Apart from work, there’s no need for me to worry about his private life, is there?”

“What you’re saying... makes sense.” The only thing I don’t know is whether you act that way too. I hope I’m simply overthinking it. But am I truly overthinking it? Were those coincidences really just coincidences? If they were coincidences, then why did I have to be the one to run into them? Why must I become the coincidence within the coincidence? Shuguang, if we could simply keep the distance we have now and walk through a long, brief life to the end, I would already be content. I only beg you not to stretch that distance any farther.

I would rather let the distance between us continue along this black, endless road. Because right now is the moment when I am closest to you. As for them, they will only drift farther and farther away from you.

But I know this is nothing more than my own wishful thinking.

At last, they were there.

At last, they had to part.

“Get some sleep early,” Cheng Shuguang said, pulling over by the curb and opening the door. “If you want, take tomorrow off. I’ll keep an eye on the shop. You don’t need to worry too much.”

Li Nanzhi shook her head and tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I’m not tired. After so many years, I’ve long since gotten used to it.” She turned and walked toward her building. When she reached the entrance, she turned back. “You should rest early too.”

Cheng Shuguang nodded perfunctorily.

Li Nanzhi went up to the second-floor window, hid herself by the frame, and secretly watched everything happening below.

So in the end, you still went to find him.

His car lit up four red and amber lights in the dark, a scene where beauty and sorrow coexisted.

The car drove out of the complex, turned by the east gate, and was gone from sight.

Then the sky began to rain, not heavily, not lightly. Li Nanzhi held out her hand and let the drops strike the wound in her palm. It did not hurt. If anything, it only made her more lucid.

In late autumn and early winter, on a rainy night, the water would bloom under the streetlights into a thin veil of mist. Watching the falling droplets and the rain slipping from the tips of leaves, she felt a clear chill seep into her heart. At times like this, she could not help feeling that her understanding of the world had become a little unfamiliar again. And the cars passing from who knew where, using the refraction of the raindrops, made her, in a daze, close her eyes.

Su Yihui reached the entrance to the complex just as it began to rain.

Why couldn’t you have waited five more minutes for me, even one minute would have been enough. He complained inwardly. When he left, he had not brought a folding umbrella, so when wind and rain arrived without warning, he could only stand there and let the rain soak him through obediently.

Influenced by his older sister, Su Yishu, Su Yihui had always carried a folding umbrella when he was in school or when he went shopping at nearby supermarkets. Wherever he went, the dark blue backpack on his shoulders followed him like a shadow.

“Why do you always go out with a backpack? Isn’t it a nuisance?”

Cheng Shuguang held Su Yihui’s bag, weighing the contents in his hand.

Though he was already a man in his thirties, he could still have a child’s mischievous streak. After lifting the bag up, he suddenly let go. Su Yihui, pulled backward by the force, stumbled and nearly fell.

“It rains all the time; better to be prepared. I like carrying a bag. Otherwise it always feels like I’m missing something, and I don’t know where to put my hands.”

In front of him, Su Yihui was always a little restrained. His smile was shy and reserved.

“From now on, you don’t need to bring those things anymore. With me here, that’s enough. I’ll be your private driver and shield you from wind and rain.”

He held Su Yihui’s hand, his gaze tender, his words sincere.

“Why are you here?” Su Yihui opened the door and found Cheng Shuguang sitting on the sofa, hands clasped, forehead resting on them, as though deep in thought.

“Obviously to see you.” He stood up and snagged his foot on the coffee table leg, stumbling half a step forward. “Why are you only getting back now? I’ve been waiting ages.”

“I walked here from the Sunshine Crossroads, so it took a little time.” Su Yihui smiled, brushing the raindrops from his hair.

“Didn’t I tell you to take a cab back? You don’t need to save money for me. If you do this, I’ll be hurt.” Cheng Shuguang walked over with warmth in his eyes. “Wait, you got soaked?” He touched Su Yihui’s rain-damp clothes. “Was it raining outside?”

“It just started.”

“Go take a hot shower right away. Don’t catch a cold.” He patted his shoulder.

Su Yihui took off his jacket and trousers and laid them on the sofa. When he had stripped down to his thermal shirt and long johns, he went no further.

Whether it was because he was afraid of the cold, or because he was shy with Cheng Shuguang there, no one could tell.

Cheng Shuguang sat on the sofa and listened to the sound of running water coming from the bathroom in the stillness of the night. He felt as though a small flame inside him had spread to his chest. This was, truly, a tremendous temptation.

“Do you want to wash up too?” Su Yihui came out of the bathroom, toweling his wet hair.

“We should have washed together just now.” He stood and said, “It would have saved water.”

“Then don’t wash at all.” Su Yihui lowered his head. “Not washing is the real way to save water.”

“If I don’t wash, don’t complain that I’m dirty later.” Cheng Shuguang walked over, took the towel, and dried his hair for him.

“Wash if you want; I’m going to sleep first.” Su Yihui pulled himself free from his hands.

“Blow-dry your hair before you sleep.” He spoke to his back. “Sleeping with wet hair will give you a headache tomorrow.”

...

Su Yihui and Cheng Shuguang lay on the same bed, staring at the ceiling that felt both close enough to touch and forever out of reach.

“Little Hui, have you ever thought about the future?” Cheng Shuguang turned his head to look at him.

“No.” He sounded dazed. “I don’t dare.” In truth, I have no confidence in the future at all. Someone like me, living in this world, is an existence that can be taken or left. “Shuguang, what about you?”

“Me?” He paused, then said, “As long as I’m with you, that’s enough.”

“Then what about the proprietress?” His voice gradually weakened. “I think she knows about you and me.” Every time she looks at me, there is resentment and helplessness in her eyes. Though she never says it aloud, I know she understands everything.

“I owe Nanzhi. I’ll find time to explain it to her properly.”

Would an explanation help? A person who grew up with you, from infancy to childhood, from childhood to youth, from youth to adulthood. Her world and yours are bound together so tightly, and yet you want to cut her loose. Isn’t that too cruel? But I have no right to say that, because a part of that cruelty belongs to me. If I had known, I should never have let myself fall into this. Now, even if I wanted to pull away, it would be impossible.