Chapter 58 – We Haven’t Broken Up Yet

The annual gathering featured a variety of programs—General Affairs Department’s crazily off-key group singing, Marketing Department’s uneven fashion show, Research Department’s forgetful crosstalk, Risk Control Department’s grotesque dance… In short, the quality was virtually nonexistent, yet the effect was surprisingly good, with laughter never ceasing throughout the event.

In the end, Li Tang was pulled on stage, a microphone thrust into his hand, and he reluctantly sang a song.

He sang “Tomorrow Will Be Better,” chosen by Qi Sixian—a classic inspirational song perfectly suited for the atmosphere of the annual gathering. Li Tang didn’t remember the lyrics and sang haltingly, his face flushing red towards the end. It was Li Zichu who saved the day by stepping onto the stage, switching to “Borrow Five Hundred Years from Heaven,” roaring and pushing the atmosphere to its peak.

The Spring Festival holiday followed closely.

As a leader, Li Tang didn’t have the luxury of rest. He visited relatives and friends from New Year’s Day to the third day, then attended several banquets, holding a glass in the smoky environment while listening to elders reminisce about old times. This experience deeply ingrained the helplessness and bitterness of a dominant figure in him.

During this time, he took the opportunity to return home. Zhang Zhaoyue had already moved out, and when Li Yuanshan heard the knock on the door and saw it was Li Tang, he dejectedly extended the hand he had behind his back, putting the cigarette back in his mouth.

Later, Li Tang remembered that when Zhang Zhaoyue’s health was poor, she couldn’t tolerate the smell of smoke, yet Li Yuanshan, despite complaining about the inconvenience, never smoked anywhere outside of the study again.

Presenting last year’s financial report to Li Yuanshan for review, Li Yuanshan glanced at it casually: “That little bastard is quite capable.”

Li Tang still couldn’t get used to this insulting term of address: “ROJA is now our important business partner.”

Li Yuanshan noncommittally hummed: “This mother and son pair, they truly surpass each other in capability.”

Since he was there, he decided to stay for a meal.

Ever since learning that the aunt hired in Xucheng was actually arranged by Li Tang’s biological mother, Li Yuanshan had become wary of live-in nannies. Now, he only employed a part-time housekeeper to come daily to cook and clean, leaving promptly after finishing her tasks.

During the meal, Li Yuanshan asked: “Has your mother contacted you these days?”

Li Tang replied truthfully: “She occasionally sends soup to the company, but we haven’t met face to face.”

“And your birth mother?”

“We’ve had no contact.” Li Tang bit down on his chopsticks. “Didn’t you say she’s abroad?”

Li Yuanshan hummed again: “I’m afraid she’ll stir up trouble again. She left so decisively back then, why turn around and pretend to be a caring mother?”

Li Tang offered no comment. The three parents in his life—one who gave him life, two who raised him—none could be said to have abandoned him, yet none bestowed upon him undivided love.

They all had more important matters, things they cared more about, and what they could allocate to him was extremely limited.

But he still grew up, never lacking in material needs, making him stronger than most children just based on this point alone. Thus, he had no right to harbor resentment.

Seeing Li Tang silent, Li Yuanshan suddenly sighed: “Have you been seeing a psychiatrist recently?”

Li Tang was taken aback: “I went before the New Year.”

“One would think that you learn from your mistakes after experiencing them so many times, and you should have suffered enough by now.” Li Yuanshan placed a serving of green beans in Li Tang’s bowl. “In the future, don’t always trust others so easily; be more cautious in everything you do.”

It wasn’t the first time Li Tang had heard similar warnings from Li Yuanshan, but this was the gentlest instance.

Perhaps due to growing older, having experienced more, and compromising more often, people inevitably became more peaceful through the process of being worn down.

Just like the twenty-six-year-old Li Tang, who began to understand that becoming a single father at a young age, and the frustration of not being able to hold onto someone, were likely the reasons behind Li Yuanshan’s eccentric personality.

Although he still couldn’t forgive the act of taking out anger on a child or physically punishing them, there was no need to decide who was right or wrong now, long after the events occurred.

Li Tang remained silent, but didn’t refuse, stuffing the slightly bitter green beans, as if salted too much, into his mouth, blending with that dark past, chewed and swallowed.

Then, silently in his heart, he told himself that it was all over.

In the first week after returning to work after the New Year, Li Tang got the chance to go on a business trip to Xucheng.

There were new developments in ROJA’s robotic project aimed at suppressing tumor mutations. Due to the issues encountered during transportation last time, which almost delayed their wedding, this time the Research Department personally went to inspect and test it.

Accompanying him were Li Zichu and Yang Baichuan. This time, Qi Sixian wasn’t brought along. Before departure, she specifically reminded Yang Baichuan: “Use some discretion; don’t disturb President Li and ROJA’s President Jiang as they catch up.”

Yang Baichuan looked bewildered: “But they don’t seem very close.”

Qi Sixian “tsked”: “It’s precisely because they pretend not to be close in front of others that it’s called covering up the truth.”

Li Tang was unaware that the undercurrents between him and Jiang Lou had already been noticed by some.

Upon arriving at ROJA’s company, he followed everyone to observe the new robot—this robot was unlike any before; it was incredibly tiny, only visible under a microscope. Nanorobots could enter human blood vessels, carrying medication inside the body to accurately identify and destroy cancer cells, automatically decomposing after completing their task.

Everyone had only seen similar research results in relevant academic journals. Witnessing a physical demonstration for the first time, they marveled at the progress of science and human wisdom.

Speaking of wisdom, Pei Hao and Sun Yuxiang unconsciously stepped back, pushing Jiang Lou forward: “Our company’s representative of wisdom has other products to showcase for President Li’s appreciation, so we’ll take our leave.”

Yang Baichuan also wanted to appreciate it, but was dragged away by Li Zichu: “Let’s go eat first.”

Yang Baichuan: “But…”

Li Zichu was speechless: “Didn’t you listen to a word Qi told you?”

Saying this, he turned to glare at Jiang Lou, his face conveying “I’m nearby, so watch your words and actions,” nearly causing Pei Hao to lose his patience and start an argument with him again.

Finally, only the two of them were left. Jiang Lou didn’t waste time, directly crossing through the back door of the R&D department, leading Li Tang toward the experimental operation area.

Putting on shoe covers at the entrance, as soon as they entered, they saw the robot he had seen with his own eyes standing on the central operating table.

Jiang Lou called its name, and it immediately opened its mechanical arm, as if greeting.

Seeing that its appearance hadn’t changed compared to the last time, Li Tang asked doubtfully: “Can it really sing?”

As soon as he finished speaking, he saw the thumb and index finger of that hand bend, touching each other, clicking a few times, forming an OK gesture.

Li Tang was delighted: “Then sing, anything will do.”

The mechanical arm moved, turning to a device resembling an electronic keyboard placed to the side, placing its fingers on the keys, adjusting its position, and starting to press slowly.

The sound of the piano mixed with the metallic clanking, combined with the creaking during movement, seemed as if the robot itself was singing.

It sang—sing your passion, extend your hands, let me embrace your dreams, let me possess your true face…

“Tomorrow Will Be Better,” the song Li Tang was forced to sing at the annual gathering.

He suspected Jiang Lou did it on purpose, yet he was ashamed to point it out, pretending not to recognize the song: “This is playing the piano, it doesn’t count as singing.”

Jiang Lou told him that this was a typical medical operation robot and didn’t have a voice component installed.

However, “If you want it to…”

“I was just joking around.” Almost transforming into a nitpicking client, Li Tang quickly changed the subject. “Let’s see it dance instead, that shouldn’t require a voice component, right?”

Hearing the word “dance,” the mechanical arm immediately stopped playing the piano, slowly turning back around, then facing Li Tang, began to rhythmically twist all its joints, from the “fingers” to the “wrists” to the “elbows.” The movements weren’t particularly flexible, lacking in aesthetics, but the large amplitude of the movements, devoid of skill but full of emotion, was comically hardworking.

Watching this, Li Tang laughed, asking who choreographed the dance.

Jiang Lou said it was choreographed by Pei Hao. Li Tang laughed and said: “That makes sense. But wasn’t he working at the same club as you before? How did he learn dancing?”

“Fighting wasn’t his main job. He had a falling out with his family and ran away from home, with nowhere to go, he came to the boxing gym to earn money.”

“Let me guess, the falling out wasn’t because of relationship problems, was it?”

“Hmm. Back then, his family disagreed with him dating a girl from an ordinary family.”

“What a classic plot… Then what happened later, did they agree?”

“No, the girl left him with the check his parents gave her.”

“…” Li Tang suddenly felt sympathy for Pei Hao. “Then he wouldn’t have developed a phobia, right? Like never wanting to fall in love again?”

“No.” Jiang Lou said, “He recently started dating a new girlfriend.”

Li Tang suddenly thought of something: “The girlfriend he’s dating, it wouldn’t happen to be… Su Qinhan, right?”

“It seems so.”

“No wonder.”

No wonder Su Qinhan knew so much about Pei Hao, even his family situation.

Recalling that last Christmas Eve, after flying from the capital to Xucheng, Pei Hao and Su Qinhan shared a taxi because their residences were in the same direction, Li Tang felt a sense of responsibility for “tying this red thread myself,” and couldn’t help but worry for Su Qinhan. Would Pei Hao’s unpredictable personality treat her well? Would their temperaments cause them to argue every day? And could Pei Hao’s family accommodate her…

In the midst of his thoughts, he suddenly heard Jiang Lou ask: “What about you?”

“Huh?” Li Tang snapped back to reality. “What about me?”

Jiang Lou looked at him and asked softly: “Do you still have… trauma now?”

Li Tang’s breathing paused slightly.

He didn’t expect to be suddenly mentioned.

This was indeed a difficult question to answer.

Anxiety surrounded him from all sides, like ants swarming, and Li Tang’s hand, placed at his side, involuntarily withdrew behind him. Before it touched the other wrist, it was caught by Jiang Lou.

“Don’t move.” Jiang Lou restrained his arm, stopping his action. “Don’t harm yourself.”

Leaning slightly forward, Jiang Lou’s gaze was level with Li Tang’s, avoiding putting pressure on him: “That incident wasn’t your fault; you didn’t do anything wrong… The one who should be punished wasn’t you, it was me.”

Li Tang clenched his fists, taking repeated deep breaths to calm his emotions.

Jiang Lou led him to sit on a chair outside and poured him a cup of warm water.

The voice recorder was still on Jiang Lou’s desk. Li Tang stared at it for a while: “If it weren’t for me, your father wouldn’t have died.”

He exhaled lightly. “…How can you say I’m not at fault?”

Jiang Lou sat in a chair in front of him, maintaining a close but not tight distance.

“You’re conflating two things.” Jiang Lou spoke in as calm a tone as possible. “Back then, you were only five years old. Without adult supervision, you didn’t know to look both ways before crossing the road, nor could you predict that someone would die trying to avoid you.”

“If someone must be held responsible, then tracing back, you came here looking for her, she returned to Xucheng impulsively, and the cause of her impulse was your father’s breach of contract, and the contract was signed by the two of them… Further back, if her family hadn’t fallen into decline, she wouldn’t have married my father, wouldn’t have given birth to me, and the subsequent tragedy wouldn’t have occurred.”

“The initial cause led to the later effect; how can you attribute all the blame to yourself?”

“And my father stepping on the brakes was his choice. Maybe the urgency didn’t allow time for thought, but he still had to take responsibility for his choice, for the death of him and the survival of you, for the result of leaving me alone in this world.”

Li Tang listened in shock: “He was your father, how could you…”

How could he blame him?

Seeing that Li Tang was listening to what he said, Jiang Lou felt slightly relieved and said: “Now let’s talk about the second thing. Unlike the first thing, where we can trace back to find the initial cause, it was caused solely by me, by my actions.”

“It was me who misattributed the result of the first thing to you, deliberately seeking revenge, nearly costing you your life… So you should hate me, hit me hard, rather than blame yourself.”

“In this matter, I am the only villain.”

Jiang Lou reiterated, “You are not at fault.”

Admittedly, hearing similar theories from Jiang Lou was easier to understand and accept than from a psychiatrist.

Perhaps in every previous session, Li Tang hadn’t listened seriously. He stubbornly lived in his own world, as if only by believing he deserved punishment, that he was guilty and deserved to die, could the tormented heart breathe a momentary sigh of relief, and feel that he wasn’t beyond redemption.

And even a psychiatrist, in order to force him to face it, would deliberately emphasize his mistakes in handling the situation, rather than simply and crudely describe him as a completely innocent victim.

But Jiang Lou would, Jiang Lou would, in order to help him shed his psychological burden, analyze rationally from the perspective of an observer, even though Jiang Lou himself was the victim of “the first thing,” doing nothing yet bearing all the consequences.

All for him to hurt less, all for him to stop tormenting himself.

It was like the faintly whitening horizon before dawn, giving hope while relaxing the taut mind, melting and enveloping the whole person in a mixture of the scent of grass and moisture.

Glancing over, he saw an air humidifier next to Jiang Lou’s workstation, emitting fine white mist.

Taking a careful sniff, it was rose-scented.

Li Tang was accustomed to changing the subject when faced with content he couldn’t respond to. He gazed at the humidifier, seemingly studying the brand of fragrance: “…But, you hope I don’t hate you as much.”

Seemingly not expecting that after saying so much, Li Tang would only seize on this sentence, Jiang Lou let out a breath with a hint of helplessness: “That’s my wishful thinking.”

“I want you to hate me, but I don’t want you to hate me too much, so you’ll remember me, but won’t avoid me, perhaps allowing me… to stay by your side.”

After a moment of silence, Li Tang heard himself ask: “Why?”

Why do you want to stay by my side, why are you kind to me, why do you remember every word I’ve said… Why do you make me care so much, care about your motives for approaching me this time?

And in the face of such questions, the Jiang Lou of the past always remained silent or smiled it off.

He knew too well that giving a reason meant laying all his cards on the table, meant handing over the decision-making power to the other party.

He had lost too much in life, possessed too little, and an extraordinary desire for control emerged accordingly. After all, only by firmly grasping it in his heart could he handle all the outcomes with ease.

But now he was going to turn the initiative into passivity, waiting anxiously for the final verdict after answering.

“Even though, we haven’t…” Pausing, Jiang Lou continued, “But, can you reconsider me?”

Li Tang was stunned.

By the barely perceptible tremor in Jiang Lou’s calm voice, by the warmth in his eyes, by the hand he restrained from reaching out.

Also by the unfinished first half of his sentence.

—Even though, we haven’t broken up yet.