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The Sun Never Rises for Anyone Special
墨書 Inktalez
The sun never rises specifically for anyone; it simply is what it is—high above, radiant and equal, shining down on all things.
Chi Rong felt that her affection for Sheng Sheng was much the same, indistinguishable from what she offered to others. A hollow ache filled Chi Rong’s heart, a strange mix of emptiness and slight bitterness, her throat inflamed to the point where even breathing hurt. “Baby, Happy New Year. Let’s break up,” she had said countless times, knowing that at least one of those times had to be true. Clutching a bright red apple, Chi Rong felt a headache brewing that threatened to explode at any moment.
“Baby, are you really sure you like me?” Sheng Sheng’s eyes were round and bright, glistening like a pet dog’s. How did they end up together? It all started when Sheng Sheng threatened to cut ties with her in a dramatic fashion. How could she possibly lose Sheng Sheng? If the fortune-telling results showed only two paths—breaking up or staying together—then surely they were meant to be together.
For Sheng Sheng, she was willing to try to love and be loved. Perhaps she was just too slow to catch on; did Sheng Sheng think the same?
Her friends called her lovesick, said she was infatuated. Though she had few friends, Sheng Sheng was undoubtedly the most important one; nothing else mattered more than her. Before meeting Sheng Sheng, Chi Rong could never have imagined that someone in this world would accept her, respect her, like her, and even love her. She was such a unique person, different from everyone else—perhaps “unique” was too flattering; in truth, she felt like a misfit who wasn’t liked by many.
When the captivating Sheng Sheng approached her, it felt as if she had exhausted all her luck in life, winning a limited-time lottery ticket that only she could redeem. Why would someone so radiant like Sheng Sheng ever be drawn to her? She—a misfit, an oddity—someone so often misunderstood.
Since childhood, Wu Huan had been described as cold-hearted and aloof; everyone said so—her parents, distant relatives, even teachers who noted in her graduation comments that she was “extremely reclusive.”
Sheng Sheng had graced her 23rd year. In truth, Chi Rong despised 23 because 5 was her unlucky number (2 + 3 = 5). Yet she adored Sheng Sheng. The character for “sheng” has eleven strokes while “Sheng Sheng” has twenty-two—2 + 2 = 4, which happened to be her lucky number.
Sheng Sheng, representing a unique kind of fortune just for her.
There probably weren’t many people who interpreted numbers this way; sometimes even Chi Rong thought her thought process was overly abstract. But Sheng Sheng understood her—like appreciating a flower or a drop of dew—with complete respect and patience for her differences.
Yet there was an underlying anxiety. Being with Sheng Sheng brought an overwhelming happiness that Chi Rong had never experienced before, leaving her perpetually uneasy.
"Baby... let's break up."
She couldn't help but seek confirmation of her love again and again; she wanted to be reassured and to have her choice affirmed repeatedly.
"Yes, I loved you. But love can change, and now it's time to say goodbye." Her eyes still sparkled with light, still bright, yet they revealed a hint of subtle fatigue and hesitation. Chi Rong keenly sensed this—was her luck about to run out?
It seemed that all emotions in the world had an expiration date, whether it was liking or loving, hating or despising.
The sun would never rise specifically for anyone; Sheng Sheng remained Sheng Sheng, and she was still herself.
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