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墨書 Inktalez
As everyone else had left, He Lin Cheng turned to her and said, "I have something I want to discuss with you."
Yun Li was prepared; she nodded in response. He Lin Cheng smiled wryly, realizing that this was something he should have said eleven years ago.
Yun Li looked surprised. It was during the flower market performance at the Grand Theater when Jiang Shiyu had intercepted him.
She recalled that it was at that moment she had confessed to Jiang Shiyu. She remembered that her senior had called her back then. So, was he planning to confess at that time?
"Senior, over the years I've also fallen for others, but it never worked out, and we ended things," Yun Li said. "But I’ve realized that being with you feels more comfortable."
"What do you feel about me now?" He Lin Cheng asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. Yun Li merely smiled faintly, her eyes clear as she replied, "In my eyes, Senior, it’s very, very special."
He Lin Cheng gazed at her; they locked eyes without any awkwardness in the atmosphere. He wanted to see signs of tension or shyness in her gaze, or perhaps some other form of discomfort. But there was none—she was so calm, as if looking at an older brother.
A sense of disappointment flickered in his eyes; the light within him dimmed instantly. Noticing his change in mood, Yun Li asked, "Senior, what's wrong?"
He Lin Cheng managed a bitter smile and slowly shook his head. "I’ve failed again. I still can’t make you like me."
Yun Li paused, her smile freezing at the corners of her lips. She bit her lower lip and said softly, "I'm sorry, Senior."
"It's not your fault," He Lin Cheng replied. "Honestly, even if it were someone else, you wouldn’t feel anything for them either." In that moment, he finally understood her heart.
"Yun Li," he continued gently, "your heart has been filled for a long time—so full that there’s no room for anyone else to enter. It’s very difficult for others to find a place in your heart."
"Senior, actually..." He Lin Cheng interjected, "I know you would accept me; it’s just that I don’t want to force it." He sighed softly. "I can be petty too; I want your affection but I don’t like to impose."
Yun Li apologized again, saying she was sorry for causing him concern.
He Lin Cheng smiled gently at her and reached out to touch her hair. It had been let down now, flowing smoothly and softly over her shoulders. "I’m doing this willingly; you don’t need to feel sorry."
"I can let it go. Let's just be friends from now on, okay?" He Lin Cheng asked.
Yun Li felt her heart drop, but she raised her head and smiled, "Sure."
He Lin Cheng opened his arms for a hug, as if to say goodbye to the part of him that liked Yun Li. It wasn't a partner's embrace, nor a senior's, nor merely a friend's; it was a farewell from the side of him that had feelings for her.
Without hesitation, Yun Li embraced him gently, a hug free of any other sentiments.
A black Aston Martin had been parked by the roadside for quite some time. In the back seat, Jiang Shiyu watched the scene outside without blinking. He observed as the two of them finished their hug and entered the hotel together.
Shu Ran beside him clicked his tongue and said, "I told you! They’re perfect for each other. You don’t stand a chance, buddy."
The atmosphere in the car suddenly grew tense as Jiang Shiyu's deep eyes darkened significantly. Realizing he seemed angry, Shu Ran quickly got out of the car, leaving only the driver and Chen Yi in the front seat to bear the brunt of it.
"Miss, you ran away while we’re left here," he muttered.
Jiang Shiyu fled back to Jing City that night. When he returned home, it was eerily quiet, devoid of any human presence. Darkness enveloped him, merging all his emotions with the night; the director had already gone to Jiangzhou to accompany his grandfather.
Now he was all alone.
He approached the liquor cabinet and took out three bottles of alcohol that Yun Li had left over from their time in Russia: one bottle of brandy and two bottles of whiskey.
He turned on the television and found a replay of the New Year’s Eve gala from Su City TV. As he watched that segment in solitude, the quiet room suddenly filled with melodious and serene music, accompanied by excited cheers from the audience.
He memorized every glance they exchanged, every movement they made, every intimate dance step they took.
Yun Li was slender with long limbs, her cold demeanor accentuated by delicate shoulders and flawless skin; her graceful figure left a deep impression on the audience's hearts. Beside her, He Lin Cheng was lean yet strong—not weak at all—exuding a charm that combined softness with strength.
The two stood together perfectly matched.
As he replayed the scene over and over again, pain surged in his chest with each cycle, and he downed drink after drink.
He felt no emotions—he was eerily calm like an emotionless robot—but a profound sadness cloaked him heavily.
The lyrics echoed in his ears:
"I hope for wishes made to blossom along the way,
To shelter those caught in the rain beneath eaves,
As time washes away the tumult of life."
On a quiet night, do you think of anyone?
Flowers bloom along the way, flowers bloom along the way.
I’ve weathered the storms, I’ve weathered the storms.
I hope the wishes I made will bloom like flowers along the path.
I escort the dreams of that time, shielding them from the winds and sands.
On the television, two people exchange glances filled with affection. Yun Li’s face is adorned with charm, anticipation, and beautiful hopes for the future.
He Lin Cheng’s gaze remains fixed on her. They wear matching costumes, though the colors have shifted; Yun Li is dressed in orange above and white below, while He Lin Cheng wears white above and orange below, the colors of their skirts swirling and revealing what lies beneath.
They each have their own path of flowers.
And he has his own path as well.
In the end, they are not alone.
Suddenly, his eyes brim with tears, a sharp ache piercing through him as a tear falls into his glass with a crisp sound.
He continues to drink, one glass after another, slowly and steadily, as a heavy silence permeates the air filled with his sorrow.
How long has he been watching? How many times has he seen this?
All he knows is that he has memorized every movement, every shared glance followed by a smile, every beat, and every display of skill.
Finally, they stand in the center of the stage, their poses frozen in time.
As the performance concludes and dawn breaks softly, his drink is long gone.
The pain in his heart persists, having spread throughout his entire body.
He turns off the television and stands up, feeling utterly exhausted; his broad back slumps under the weight of solitude, his wide shoulders drooping.
A sense of desolation envelops him.
If this is what she wishes for,
he offers his blessings.
He lets go.
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