Chapter 31 – Li Jiangluo 1.5

I’ve lost sleep again, this time because of Brother Baichuan.

Truth be told, I’ve pondered countless times why Bolin would like me, why despite the difficulties, he still wanted to be with me.

I never asked him, and I couldn’t come up with an answer myself.

This question was buried along with Bolin’s departure, but when I stood outside Brother Baichuan’s door and heard him say, “How could it be, how could I like him,” for some reason, I felt he was talking about me.

Perhaps I’m just imagining things, but that moment left a bitter taste in my heart.

Suddenly, I’m utterly lost. Even when Mom passed away, I wasn’t as confused as I am now. I don’t know what I can offer others, nor do I understand what makes me worthy of anyone’s kindness.

It crossed my mind that Brother Baichuan has done so much for me, seemingly gentle and caring on the surface, but could he have secretly grown tired of me?

Looking back, it seems I’ve been nothing but trouble for others.

Indeed, I’m a burden.

I gazed out the window, the streetlights painting the sky orange.

The room was dark, but it didn’t feel too dim.

When I was with Bolin, he would often get up at night, so we got into the habit of leaving a small nightlight on.

After moving here, it seemed the other family members didn’t have this habit, yet I couldn’t fall asleep in pitch darkness anymore, so I stopped drawing the curtains.

Bathed in moonlight and the glow from the streetlamps, I could finally rest easy.

Tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, I felt miserable.

The agony of insomnia is something only those who’ve experienced it truly understand—the exhaustion, yet the inability to drift off.

I threw off the covers and climbed out of bed, fumbling for a cigarette in my pocket—only one left.

Unwilling to make a fuss by going to the balcony, knowing if I did, the pup would wake up barking, disturbing Auntie and Uncle.

Standing by the bed, I lit the cigarette, barely taking a few puffs before spotting Brother Baichuan’s car pulling in.

Checking the time, he’d been gone for roughly two hours.

I wondered what had gotten into me, so anxious and insecure.

My eyes followed the car until it vanished behind the garage door.

I extinguished the cigarette and tiptoed to the door, like a thief in the night, pressing my ear against it.

Soon, I heard the sound of a door opening; Brother Baichuan had returned.

He was trying his best to avoid making noise, every movement quiet and stealthy.

Suddenly, I felt like a deranged voyeur, too scared to step out, hiding instead to satisfy my own desires in this twisted way.

My somewhat shameless desires…

I straightened up, almost disbelieving my own actions.

The footsteps outside grew closer, stopping nearby. I heard a door open, then quickly shut.

I questioned myself: Li Jiangluo, what are you doing?

I parted my lips, took a deep breath, and returned to bed.

The feeling of staring wide-eyed until dawn is indeed unbearable. The first thing I did upon waking was to check my reflection in the mirror, to see if I looked as ghastly as I had in the past few months.

Fortunately, just one sleepless night resulted in faint shadows under my eyes, but otherwise, I looked alright.

Relieved, I didn’t want to worry anyone further.

Today, I had to meet Yi Li, though not for therapy. He wanted me to accompany him while shopping.

Initially, I declined—I really dislike shopping.

But he pitifully explained how unfamiliar he was with the area, unsure where to buy things.

I’m not good at saying no, so I reluctantly agreed.

After breakfast, I rushed out, barely uttering a word to Brother Baichuan.

I hadn’t done anything wrong, yet I acted as if I were hiding something.

It was a strange sensation, hard to describe.

Leaving the house, I heard him ask where I was going. In a panic, I pretended not to hear and hastily slipped on my shoes, bolting out the door.

He said something else after, but I didn’t catch it. I did feel a twinge of regret for not listening before dashing off.

Yi Li mentioned the person he liked was approaching their birthday, and he wanted to buy a special gift.

I’m terrible at giving gifts, just as I’m terrible at refusing people.

Being dragged around the mall by Yi Li, I felt he knew the place better than I did.

As he was selecting a gift, I suddenly remembered Xu Zhao’s birthday was coming up soon. Checking my phone’s calendar, it was next week.

I was conflicted. After our fallout, he approached me, suggesting we talk. He claimed it would just be a meal, a meeting, assuring me he wouldn’t bring up anything I didn’t want to discuss.

But I didn’t go.

Ironically, I kept saying I couldn’t refuse others, yet these days, I seemed to be constantly turning him down.

Still, I decided to buy a gift.

A longstanding tradition—giving him a wallet on his birthday.

From middle school to now, Xu Zhao must have enough unused wallets to sell, since not only on his birthday, but on any occasion requiring a gift, I’d always choose that item.

Because I was lazy to think, lazy to select.

No exception this year.

Yi Li bought a wallet for the person he liked at this store, and I happened to find one I thought suited Xu Zhao well, so I purchased it alongside him.

After shopping, I wanted to head home. But the thought of facing Brother Baichuan again made my heart race.

I didn’t know what was happening to me, but lately, even I found myself repulsive.

“How about a movie?” Yi Li pointed at a poster across the way. “It’s the premiere today.”

Following his gesture, I saw a romance film, which held no interest for me.

“Let’s go!” Yi Li appeared in high spirits, and I didn’t want to dampen his mood, so I tagged along reluctantly.

However, shortly after the film began, he received a call and left, leaving me alone in the dark cinema, clutching a large bucket of popcorn he’d bought.

At first, I considered just leaving, but checking the time, I realized that if I walked out now, not only would I return home to more awkwardness, but I’d also waste the ticket money.

Suddenly, I turned into a miser, and the thought made me chuckle.

Munching on popcorn, I devoted my attention to the movie I wasn’t particularly interested in.

Clichéd plot, riddled with logical flaws, yet the girl beside me cried.

I discreetly surveyed my surroundings, realizing I was the only one unengaged.

I couldn’t comprehend how the film’s protagonists fell in love, couldn’t understand why they couldn’t communicate properly, opting instead for misunderstandings that piled up endlessly.

Is love truly this tumultuous?

I reflected on myself.

My love seemed fine, devoid of significant obstacles during its course, only to receive a harsh awakening in the end.

I recalled the phrase: Unhappy families are unhappy in their own ways.

In other words, broken loves each have their unique causes.

The film concluded, the screen freezing on the couple embracing, sunset and flying birds, accompanied by the slow fade-in of the closing credits song—a scene undeniably romantic.

I remained seated, listening to the entire song. I must admit, the melody was beautiful, the lyrics striking.

We idealize love too much,

take companionship for granted,

unaware that time ravages us,

life can be so lonely.

How true, no matter what path one takes, in the end, aren’t we all alone?

Exiting the cinema, I glanced at the time, then promptly bought a ticket for the next showing. Although it seemed boring, I watched the movie again.

I still didn’t consider it a great film, but this time, I focused on their emotions rather than nitpicking.

Initially, I found their love inexplicable, but upon deeper contemplation, many feelings arise spontaneously, inexplicably.

If love could be easily explained, perhaps it isn’t real love.

Just like how we all meticulously envision our future partner, yet one day, we meet someone who doesn’t match our criteria, yet we love them fiercely.

This 42-yuan movie featured the world’s most clichéd plot.

Two lovers separated by misunderstanding, reuniting years later on a square filled with fluttering pigeons, locking eyes, tears welling up, slowly closing the distance, then tightly embracing.

Clichéd storyline and visuals, yet I must admit, this time I was moved. At least, the final embrace seemed genuine in my eyes.

Crossing my arms, I felt a dull ache in my temples.

I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I hugged someone.

It seemed like ages ago.

On my way home, Brother Baichuan called, asking if I’d be back for dinner. That’s when I noticed it was nearly six o’clock.

“I’m on my way home.” Holding the phone in one hand, gripping the bus handrail with the other, a paper bag hanging from my wrist containing Xu Zhao’s birthday present.

“Good, Mom’s preparing dinner. You should arrive just in time to eat.”

“Mm-hmm.” After my brief response, I didn’t know what else to say.

He seemed at a loss for words too, pausing before gently saying, “Be careful on your way, don’t rush.”

“Okay.”

Hanging up, I looked out the window at a young couple in school uniforms holding hands.

Both wore backpacks, arms touching, chatting and laughing, strolling leisurely through the evening streets.

As if the bustling world around them didn’t exist, their universe was confined to the small happiness hidden in their fingertips.

Suddenly, I felt like I glimpsed the face of love once more.