Chapter 44 – Love Is

A brief exchange on WeChat.

Jiang Ruo asked about the item left behind, and Xi Yufeng mentioned it was a script. It reminded Jiang Ruo that he had printed out extra copies of the “Skin” script before, with one placed under the coffee table, convenient for reading while lounging on the sofa.

He had forgotten about it when moving out, so Jiang Ruo hesitantly asked, “Would it be too much trouble for you to mail it to me?”

A few minutes later, Xi Yufeng replied, “It’s not very convenient.”

It made sense; his residence had strict security, even delivery riders couldn’t enter. Asking someone else to specially make a trip to the courier service seemed inappropriate for something Jiang Ruo himself had left behind.

So Jiang Ruo offered, “I’ll come pick it up then. I’ll contact you in advance and ask for a temporary password to open the door.”

Xi Yufeng’s place used a smart lock, and Jiang Ruo’s fingerprints were previously recorded. They should have been deleted by now.

But what Jiang Ruo really wanted to convey was, “I’ll come quietly to get it myself, hoping not to run into you.”

Xi Yufeng clearly understood: “Your information hasn’t been deleted. I’m not home during the day.”

The latter sentence was like a shot of adrenaline to Jiang Ruo, but the former was hard to ignore.

But Jiang Ruo didn’t overthink it; perhaps Xi Yufeng was just too busy to delete it.

With this thought, Jiang Ruo chose a Monday morning after the New Year holiday to go downtown alone.

Upon arrival, he encountered no obstacles. His registration at the guard post remained valid, the elevator worked smoothly, and when he entered using his fingerprint, even his pair of slippers was still in its original spot by the entrance, as if untouched since his departure.

Unexpectedly, there was someone in the house.

Aunt Fang came out from the kitchen upon hearing him. Seeing Jiang Ruo putting on shoe covers, she quickly said, “Come right in, I’ll do a thorough cleaning this afternoon.”

Seeing Aunt Fang, Jiang Ruo was first surprised, then glanced towards the study.

The study was exclusively used by Xi Yufeng, always closed regardless of whether someone was inside. At present, it was tightly shut.

“Xiao Feng isn’t home,” Aunt Fang said, as if knowing what he was looking at, “He told me you would be coming over.”

Jiang Ruo sighed in relief and still put on the shoe covers, “That’s good, I was worried I might startle you if I suddenly showed up.”

Since they had bumped into each other, a chat was inevitable.

As soon as they entered the house, Aunt Fang led him to the dining room, “You came at the perfect time, help me taste the new lotus root and pork rib soup I’ve prepared.”

Jiang Ruo wanted to refuse, but Aunt Fang was eager, quickly setting the soup on the table. Remembering how kindly she had treated him before and that she likely lacked company, Jiang Ruo sat down.

Taking a sip of the soup, Jiang Ruo nodded under her expectant gaze, “Delicious.”

Aunt Fang smiled until her eyes crinkled, “Really? That’s great. Xiao Feng has been busy with work recently and hasn’t been sleeping well. I heard this soup helps soothe the mind and improve brain function.”

His hand holding the spoon paused slightly, Jiang Ruo lowered his eyelids and said nothing.

Then Aunt Fang asked about his job, mentioning she saw him on TV during the holidays, playing a god flying around in the sky.

She must have been watching “Sun and Moon of Jing Mountain,” which aired around the New Year.

When asked if the flying on TV was real, Jiang Ruo explained, “Sort of, we’re bound with steel wires and lifted up.”

Hearing this, Aunt Fang exclaimed to the heavens, “How can a perfectly fine person be treated that way? Wasn’t it painful?”

“It was alright, just a little bit.”

“Don’t film those flying scenes next time, it’s too dangerous.”

“It’s my job, and there are safety measures, it’s not dangerous.”

“There are other roles you could take, ones where you look neat and tidy, filmed in skyscrapers, easy and dignified.”

Jiang Ruo laughed, “At my current status, the roles choose me, not the other way around.”

“Let Xiao Feng pick for you.” Aunt Fang suggested, “He has connections and knows many people. He could find you a TV drama that’s both relaxing and popular, why endure such hardships?”

This left Jiang Ruo speechless. After a moment of pursed lips, he said, “I’ve already separated from him. Today I came to collect something.”

“A sigh, I know. I just felt it was a pity and tried to reconcile things.” Pausing for a moment, Aunt Fang couldn’t resist asking, “There’s really no room for negotiation? He’s in a family situation where he has no choice. I heard he reached an agreement with Miss Meng, it’s only in name, not a real marriage.”

“I know,” Jiang Ruo replied, “But I’m a narrow-minded person, timid too. I can’t bear such an abnormal and unstable relationship.”

Aunt Fang sighed deeply.

“Well, forget it, I acted on my own accord, speaking nonsense.” Aunt Fang said, “But I can tell, Xiao Feng truly cares for you. He’s just too introverted and not good at expressing himself. If he did anything wrong before, Xiao Jiang, please don’t be angry with him.”

Jiang Ruo smiled, “Why would I be angry with him?”

Later, the conversation returned to cooking, and Jiang Ruo told Aunt Fang about killing chickens during the New Year.

Aunt Fang listened to his detailed account, pointed out several incorrect procedures, and gave him a new rundown on handling live poultry. Afraid he might forget, Jiang Ruo even took out his phone to record the instructions in his notes.

As they chatted, the bowl of soup emptied, and Jiang Ruo got up to leave.

Picking up the script on the coffee table, Jiang Ruo went to the dance studio and removed the dancing doll hanging behind the curtain.

He had forgotten about it last time, but fortunately, Xi Yufeng hadn’t seen it, allowing him to take it away unnoticed.

While stuffing the doll into his pocket, Jiang Ruo caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t allow himself to linger. He turned and quickly left the room.

Aunt Fang saw him to the door. Thinking they might not meet again, she sighed regretfully, “There won’t be anyone to chat with this old woman anymore.”

Jiang Ruo felt touched, “If you’re willing, I’ll call you when I have free time in the future.”

“Really?”

“Of course, you haven’t taught me how to kill fish yet, and I can share some interesting stories from the set.”

Aunt Fang smiled widely, “Then it’s settled.”

After Jiang Ruo left and the door closed, the study door suddenly opened from inside.

Calculating the time, Jiang Ruo should have reached the downstairs area by now. Exiting the study, Xi Yufeng walked to the balcony facing the main entrance of the community, lowering his head to look down.

Aunt Fang also came over, carrying a coat in her hands, “It’s still chilly, don’t catch a cold.”

Xi Yufeng didn’t say a word, casually draped the coat over his arm, his eyes fixed on the scene below without blinking.

He saw Jiang Ruo emerge from the stairwell, walking towards the community gate. Too far away, all he could see was Jiang Ruo wearing a short, oatmeal-colored down jacket, the yellow hood of his sweater pulled over his head, his hands in his pockets, and taking quick strides.

It seemed he was trying to stay warm, more so rushing to leave.

Aunt Fang also asked, “Where is the child in such a hurry?”

Recalling the news Xiao Shen had sent in the morning, Xi Yufeng said, “He’s going to shoot a scene, leaving in the afternoon.”

Aunt Fang nodded, then noticed Xi Yufeng still staring intently at the almost invisible figure in the distance, feeling a pang of sadness.

“If you miss him so much, why not see him off and talk to him for a bit?”

Xi Yufeng stood motionless, expressionless, and abnormally quiet.

For a long time, until even that tiny silhouette disappeared from sight, Xi Yufeng finally spoke, his voice low and slow, “He doesn’t want to see me.”

Before leaving, Aunt Fang reminded Xi Yufeng to drink the soup. He agreed, and she felt somewhat relieved, saying, “You should sleep well tonight.”

Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned. Xi Yufeng drank the soup and took a sleeping pill, falling into a shallow sleep for a brief moment, but woke up in the middle of the night, unable to fall back asleep.

On ordinary days, he could lie awake until dawn, but today, because of some reason, a restless depression accumulated in his heart. Lying down only exacerbated it, so he got out of bed, casually threw on a bathrobe, and headed to the living room.

Turning on the floor lamp, he found the remote control for the television. On the homepage was the variety show Jiang Ruo appeared on as a guest. Clicking on the latest episode, cheerful music filled the empty room.

Xi Yufeng sat on the sofa, leaning back, the ever-changing images on the screen reflected in his pupils, yet they were shrouded in a lifeless calmness.

This episode featured Jiang Ruo, but he didn’t have many scenes. After fast-forwarding several times, Xi Yufeng finally saw Jiang Ruo appear at the center of the screen, answering the MC’s questions.

It seemed to be during a break after a game, with a backdrop of a park lush with greenery. Jiang Ruo sat in a corner of a pavilion, enthusiastically drinking from a bottle of beverage. When the MC caught him, he looked confused, “Do guest stars need to be interviewed too?”

The answer was yes.

The question was simple — how would you confess to your crush?

This episode was filmed before Xi Yufeng’s birthday. Back then, Jiang Ruo obviously hadn’t anticipated revealing his feelings in such a situation a few days later. Hearing this question, his first reaction was hesitation, “Ah…this is a bit awkward to talk about. What if the person I like watches this episode? Wouldn’t it ruin the surprise?”

A male voice cut in from the side, it was actor Chen Muxin, “Interview segments with guest stars rarely get aired.”

The MC also smiled, “So don’t worry, speak boldly!”

But Jiang Ruo, unaware of the setup, hesitated for a moment before saying, “If I were to confess, I’d use a poem.”

“So teacher Jiang has a habit of reading poetry?”

“Not really. While learning dance, I read some to assist in expressing emotions through body language, recommended by my teacher.”

“Which poem would you use then?”

Jiang Ruo smiled shyly, “That I can’t reveal.”

The MC exclaimed that he was leaving them hanging, pestering him to divulge more. A senior guest next to him chuckled, “I didn’t expect Xiao Jiang to be as old-fashioned as us, using teeth-rotting poems to confess.”

Some began making bold guesses, would he use “one lifetime, one destiny, one pair of lovers,” or “holding your hand, growing old together”?

Jiang Ruo blushed from their teasing and said after a long pause, “It wouldn’t be that direct.”

He said that if the poem was too explicit, he would omit the line containing the word “love.”

“Wouldn’t you be afraid the other person wouldn’t understand?” someone asked.

To this, Jiang Ruo smiled, “If he wants to understand, he naturally will. If he doesn’t want to understand, shouting ‘I love you’ into his ear won’t do any good either.”

The program ended amid laughter, and when the clamor subsided, Xi Yufeng saw himself reflected in the dark screen.

Sitting for a while longer, he got up and walked to the dance studio, approaching the window, raising his hand to lift the curtain — there was nothing, the doll hanging by the window was gone.

He knew who had crafted the doll. He wasn’t sure before, but earlier in the program, the camera panned over and captured Chen Muxin’s backpack, with something identical hanging from the side.

And the wine bottle he had placed on the windowsill below was still there, intact.

As if strangled, a suffocating pressure overwhelmed Xi Yufeng, making it hard to breathe. The fine protrusions under his thumb as he caressed the bottle amplified this unfamiliar discomfort. It was as if he was holding not a wine bottle, but a sharp blade that, with the slightest carelessness, would pierce him and draw blood.

In fact, to retrieve this bottle of wine, Xi Yufeng had paid a price.

But it was insignificant compared to what he saw etched on the bottom of the bottle.

Most likely intentional, these letters were carved so small that they were virtually undetectable unless one carefully ran their fingers over them. And most likely, they hid intentions meant to baffle.

However, Jiang Ruo probably didn’t know that when Xi Yufeng studied business abroad, his minor was Spanish.

And at the time, to quickly master a language, he had read this famous collection of poems.

Etched on the bottle was the first half of the verse —

La luna hace girar su rodaje de sueño.

Me miran con tus ojos las estrellas más grandes.

The moon turns its clockwork dream.

The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.

The unspoken second half was —

Y como yo te amo, los pinos en el viento,

quieren cantar tu nombre con sus hojas de alambre.

And as I love you, the pines in the wind

want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

It turned out that before that, Jiang Ruo had already confessed his feelings, saying “I love you.”

I love you.

But I love you.

Only now, through the regret welling up in his heart, did Xi Yufeng face that voice, grasping onto the last flicker of flame that could save him from the darkness, sparing no expense to fuel it, letting the dull pain evolve into burning agony, without hesitation.

Then someone asked — Is this your love?

Recalling Jiang Ruo’s despairing expression as he was pressed against the bed, Xi Yufeng’s movements to take out a cigarette from his pocket became sluggish. After managing to light it and take a fierce drag, exhaling forcefully, he let the white smoke drift and dissipate shapelessly.

And “love” gradually took on a concrete form, becoming clearer.

Love is the entanglement of desire and the escape from hopelessness.

It is the loneliness of abandonment, the despicable jealousy, and the selfish greed for possession.

It is the unique rarity Jiang Ruo spoke of, something that if one wants to understand, they will understand. If one doesn’t want to understand, shouting it into their ear won’t wake them up.

It is also at this moment, as memories piled up to the brim, that Xi Yufeng fully comprehended the significance of “Nameless'” to Jiang Ruo.

It was his life’s work, symbolizing his brilliant yet fragile vitality.

But what have I done — Xi Yufeng asked himself.

I trapped him in a cage, burdening him with a heavy past, keeping him in this hidden relationship, forcing him to dance for me with shackles on his feet.

When he intended to leave, I refused to admit my fear of losing him, even hiding my terror by brutally forcing him to stay, nearly pushing him to the brink of death once again.

Back on the balcony, standing in the same spot as during the day, Xi Yufeng closed his eyes. In his mind, he still saw Jiang Ruo’s solitary but proud back.

The bone-chilling winter wind blew, and he experienced the wildfire spreading to every pore, burning deep enough to thoroughly awaken him.

Love is watching his back as he leaves, wanting to touch him yet withdrawing the hand.

It is granting him freedom as he wishes.