Chapter 39 – Li Jiangluo 1.9

I had no idea what was wrong with Yi Li. When I walked into Brother Baichuan’s office with the documents, he was sitting on the couch with bloodshot eyes.

I wanted to ask him if he was okay, after all, we should be considered friends.

But it was work time, and we were in Brother Baichuan’s office.

Perhaps this matter didn’t concern me, and I shouldn’t pry.

I pulled out a tissue from my pocket and carefully placed it on the coffee table in front of the sofa before leaving the office without saying a word.

After closing the door, I felt terrible.

Thinking that Brother Baichuan would probably comfort Yi Li and maybe even wipe his tears, I felt a twinge of jealousy.

Humans are such strange creatures. Once you fall for someone, an awful possessiveness sprouts in your heart.

I went back to work, but my mind wandered to the room next door.

I wished I had left an eye behind to sneak a peek at what they were doing right now.

Later, I was busy with work. Brother Baichuan had given me many tasks at the company, and since they were in a different industry, it was indeed tough at first. But gradually, after getting used to it, everything became smooth sailing.

By the time I finished, it was almost lunchtime, and I used this as an excuse to knock on Brother Baichuan’s door again. Yi Li had already left.

I really wanted to ask him why Yi Li was crying, but I seemed to have no right to ask such a thing.

“President Xing, are you going for lunch?” I was uncomfortable, and when I asked, I didn’t dare look at him.

This was guilt talking. A question that was normally innocent now lacked confidence.

I was afraid he would say he wasn’t having lunch with me, in which case I could probably guess who he was meeting.

The man in front of me glanced at the time, stretched lazily, and said, “Do you have anything you want to eat?”

There were still five minutes until the lunch break, and I had no appetite.

I shook my head, waiting for him to make the decision.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He stood up and suddenly came over to me.

I hurriedly stepped back, stammering, “Nothing, nothing, I’m fine.”

Now it was worse; my reaction was too panicked. It would be strange if he believed I was alright.

He rubbed his temples, and I suddenly remembered his headache this morning, so I asked, “Is your head still hurting?”

Brother Baichuan nodded and dropped his hand, saying, “Come over and rub my temples.”

He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

My heart suddenly raced, feeling that I should leave immediately.

“Come on.” He didn’t open his eyes, waiting for me to come over.

I tiptoed over, and due to the high back of his chair, I could only stand in front of him.

My legs were slightly apart, occasionally brushing against his knees.

I placed my fingers on his temples, kneading gently, sometimes harder, sometimes softer.

Outside, there was a commotion as everyone went for lunch.

We were still here. He had his eyes closed, and I was looking at him.

I had thought before whether it was because he looked too similar to Bolin that I had developed feelings for him unconsciously. But I was always clear that they were two completely different people.

Aside from the time I mistook Brother Baichuan for Bolin when I was drunk during our trip to Arctic Village, I had never seen Bolin’s shadow in him, nor did I ever think of him as a substitute for Bolin.

So, where did this love come from?

I couldn’t figure it out, deeply entangled, unable to extricate myself.

He suddenly opened his eyes and at the same moment, grabbed my hand.

We stared at each other, the warmth of his palm passing through my hand and into my heart.

I was so nervous I couldn’t speak, feeling that the atmosphere was too bizarre, leaving me at a loss.

I was afraid he would see through my thoughts, as he had said he wouldn’t like me.

“Tired?” He held my hand and asked me.

I shook my head, but my arm was indeed a bit sore.

He smiled, released one of my hands, and with the other, led me out, saying, “Let’s go, let’s have lunch first.”

Every step I took felt like I was stepping on cotton, unstable, as if I would trip and fall at any moment.

Why did he hold my hand?

Looking at his back, I wanted to ask him.

When we reached the elevator, I forcefully pulled my hand away.

This was too intimate, I couldn’t handle it.

His eyes seemed to show a fleeting sense of loss, then he told me, “Your hand is too cold.”

I nodded, not saying a word, and when the elevator doors opened, I stepped inside first.

The relationship between us seemed to be getting stranger and stranger.

He clearly didn’t love me, so why did he act as if he couldn’t do without me?

Could it be that, just as he had said at the beginning, he wanted to replace Bolin and make up for me?

If that was the case, I needed to distance myself from him even more.

At this point, apart from his love, I wanted nothing else.

The weekly therapy sessions continued, and on the surface, they seemed effective.

I was no longer as repulsed by kissing. Watching romantic movies, seeing the protagonists embrace and kiss passionately, no longer made me feel disgusted, and occasionally, I was even moved.

But I still couldn’t apply such behavior to myself.

I couldn’t imagine what I would look like kissing, inexplicably anxious.

Yi Li told me not to force myself. He told me to take it slow, that everything would get better.

But I wanted to say, what good would it do for things to improve? The person I once loved was gone, and he would never receive a kiss from me. The person I loved now wouldn’t like me, and I would never receive a kiss from him.

It was meaningless.

Even if one day I truly recovered, and began to yearn for embraces, kisses, and even sex, it would be meaningless.

On Saturday, my treatment ended.

Yi Li was delighted to go on a date, while the moving company I hired called.

I actually had very few belongings. Most of the old items from Swan Bay that I should have thrown away were already discarded.

Brother Baichuan said that there was really no need to hire a moving company, that he could just drive over with these few items.

But I felt that life needed a little ritual, just like this move. By thoroughly leaving this house and hiring a moving company, it seemed as if I had lived here for a long time.

Uncle and Auntie probably couldn’t bear me anymore. On moving day, they took Zai Zai to a friend’s place again.

Brother Baichuan sat on the sofa in the living room watching me bustle around, refusing to say a word.

I didn’t dare talk to him either. When he was in a low mood, he was still quite intimidating.

All my things were moved out, and Brother Baichuan’s neighboring room became empty, leaving only a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe.

Standing at the door, I suddenly felt sad.

I didn’t want to leave, but I had to.

This wasn’t my home, and I couldn’t stay here forever.

I was afraid they would discover my shameful thoughts, afraid that one day, watching Brother Baichuan fall in love with someone else, it would be too late for me to leave then.

Before leaving, I left a note in the drawer.

I didn’t know if Brother Baichuan would see it, nor did I know how he would react when he did. I just wanted to leave something behind.

It was my confession.

Three simple words.

I love you.

No signature, no declaration of the object of my affection.

When Brother Baichuan found it, he could assume it was for Bolin. This way, my desires were satisfied, and such a subtle confession wouldn’t embarrass him.

I was probably unusually clever this time, but I also had to admit my cowardice.

Confessing even had to be done secretly.

The new rented house was close to the company, and from the balcony, I could see that building.

But I couldn’t see Brother Baichuan’s home.

He didn’t come with the moving company, nor did he say goodbye to me.

I left there with my head down, feeling utterly useless.

My life seemed to have been spent running away. If it hadn’t been for Bolin’s relentless pursuit, we probably wouldn’t have ended up together.

Perhaps what I should change most wasn’t that strange illness of mine, but this detestable personality.

I looked at the few boxes in the living room, with absolutely no desire to unpack.

I walked over, kicked one, dug out my cigarettes, and lay on the ground smoking.

As I smoked, I felt like I was back several months ago.

Not long after Bolin passed away, Brother Baichuan and I would often hide on the balcony to smoke side by side.

I remembered that I used to abstain from smoking and drinking, and the first cigarette I ever smoked was given to me by Brother Baichuan.

No, he didn’t offer it to me; I had asked him for it.

This also led to the fact that I always smoked the same brand of cigarettes as him later on. Occasionally, when a pack I had just bought quickly flattened, I knew he must have stolen my cigarettes.

After smoking three cigarettes in a row, I choked until tears welled up.

But a new life had begun, one I chose for myself, and I had to face it no matter what.

When I woke up, I was still lying on the floor. The floor was icy, and I had a runny nose from the cold.

My phone was still ringing, and the doorbell was ringing too.

The caller was Brother Baichuan, and I quickly answered.

“Brother.”

“What are you doing?”

The doorbell stopped ringing, and he yelled into the phone.

I looked towards the door, stood up, and went to open it.

Sure enough, he was outside.

“Why didn’t you answer the phone or open the door?” His brows furrowed, and he glared at me angrily.

I raised my hand to wipe my nose and whispered, “I fell asleep…”

He wore an expression of helplessness, rubbing his brow and saying, “You’ve got me beat.”

I lowered my head and smiled, moving aside to let him enter.

“Haven’t unpacked yet?” At the door, he changed his shoes and searched for a while but couldn’t find slippers.

Turning back to look at me, he shook his head and said, “Do you really think it’s summer?”

“I’ll go find some slippers.” I barefooted, ran over, and rummaged through the boxes for a pair of cotton slippers and a pair of plastic slippers.

Brother Baichuan helped me organize everything, while I watched him from the sofa, doing nothing.

Because after he arrived, I came down with a fever.

This was my own fault, lying on the floor and falling asleep.

After tidying up the house, he went to the kitchen for a look and came out saying, “No good, you have nothing here, let’s go out to eat.”

I had no appetite at all, acting spoiled and not wanting to move, rolling over to face the inside of the sofa.

I heard him walk over, so I pretended to be asleep.

“You can’t skip meals.” His palm rested on my forehead. “You told me, you have to eat before taking medicine.”

For a moment, my nose started to sting again.

Ever since Bolin died, I seemed to cry easily, which was shameful for a man.

I lifted my hand, placing my palm on top of his.

Muttering, “I’m uncomfortable, I have no appetite.”

I was a patient, and he wouldn’t blame me for acting a bit spoiled, right?

He pulled me over to face him.

The man in front of me squatted down, stroking my face gently with his index finger and said softly, “Then I’ll order takeout. You drink some porridge, take your medicine, and go to sleep, okay?”

I thought I might have fallen completely into this gentleness.

If this was a dream, please don’t wake me up.