She was somewhat surprised, yet it seemed perfectly reasonable. She put down the egg tart she was holding, wiped her hands, and casually handed him a newspaper. "You're back?"
The question was plain, just a normal conversation, but the coldness in the tone made Su Li pause slightly. Song Jianan turned her head to continue reading the newspaper, seemingly unaware of anything unusual. "She was gone for a few days and came back quite quickly."
She seemed to be sulking with him. Su Li looked at her with some surprise. She seemed like a different person after only a few days. Her chin had become sharper, and there were faint dark circles around her eyes. Her once bright eyes had become dull and lifeless. He couldn't see her former beauty and vibrancy anymore. He asked tentatively, "Song Jianan, have you lost weight?"
Fang Yanyan stood up and went to the restroom. Song Jianan turned her head, her eyes still fixed on the newspaper, and before she could react, she casually asked, "What?"
He found her attitude strange, but dared not ask any questions, so he could only stare at her blankly.
She reached out to feel for the straw on the plate, but before she could touch it, her arm was tightly wrapped around it. Startled, Song Jianan immediately looked to the side and asked, "What are you doing?"
A large bruise was clearly visible on her left hand, along with three needle marks along the vein.
The answer is obvious.
He was hit hard, and he frowned. "What happened?"
"Oh, it's nothing, I just had an upset stomach," Song Jianan said casually. "Plus, I caught a bit of a chill."
"Were you out on location at night? It's been snowing heavily these past few days, have you even dressed warmly enough?" His voice was urgent, unlike his usual indifferent tone. "You're sick and don't even take a day off, you're sending out articles every day?"
Song Jianan felt a little embarrassed by his tugging. She gently shook her arm to signal him to put it down, but when she met his sharp eyes, she felt guilty and could only sigh, "Ah, is that work?"
For a long time, she felt the air around her slowly solidify around her ears, and she didn't dare to breathe. Then he gently put his arm down, and Su Li looked at her quietly with a complicated look in his eyes. After a long while, he slowly said, "Song Jianan, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you go to the focal point."
The bizarre memories in her mind finally connected. Song Jianan looked at him in surprise, and he stared at her intently. Sunlight streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, creating ripples in the air. Even his indifferent and cold eyes had a slight shimmering halo. He was completely different from the person she had first met.
"This is probably what it feels like to want to do more for someone, but it seems I made a mistake."
Author's Note:
the rose
Is this considered a confession? (Transitional chapter)
One update every two days, mission completed.
"Time's Edge" by Sheng Li, Chapter 39 — Jinjiang Original Website [Works Library]
"This is probably what it feels like to want to do more for someone, but it seems I made a mistake."
The afternoon sun suddenly became very strong, then dimmed again in an instant. The light and shadow on Su Li's face were unclear, but her eyes revealed a hint of tenderness, like water plants hidden in a deep pool swaying gently along the water's surface, with every ripple reflected in her eyes.
For a couple of seconds, she was in a daze. Before she could even understand what the sentence meant, her phone vibrated gently on the table. With a slight sigh of relief, Song Jianan turned her head to answer the phone. "I understand. I'll be right back."
"Excuse me, the director is urging me, I have to go now." She didn't even dare to look at Su Li, but she felt her cheeks were strangely hot.
There weren't many people at K's in the afternoon. Most of them were young girls who had come in to chat after shopping. They sat in twos and threes near the window, holding coffee and watching the people coming and going around them with boredom.
Just as Song Jianan stood up and picked up her bag, the voices of two young girls not far away drifted over. They were speaking Cantonese, and perhaps because they thought the people here wouldn't understand, they were speaking quite loudly. She glanced over there, and one of the girls, wearing black-rimmed glasses, said, "Look, that handsome guy over there is my type."
Following their gaze, there was no one else but Su Li. He seemed not to have heard anything, simply tidying up the newspapers on the table, his voice returning to its usual coldness, "I'll see you out."
"No need, it's only a five-minute walk, I can go back by myself." Saying that, she slowly moved her feet. Another girl watched for a while and said, "I like it too, it's so stylish. Well then, if you can get his phone number, I'll treat you to Yanfutang's secret recipe abalone congee."
Goodness, congee with abalone, that's a delicacy you can't even wait in line for. Su Li's net worth is really quite high. She couldn't help but laugh as she thought about it. Su Li looked at her and the corners of his mouth curled up. "Be careful on the road, and don't work too late tonight."
That slightly burning sensation on her cheeks returned. Song Jianan lowered her head and quickly pushed open the door to go out. After taking two steps, she turned back to look at the two girls who had made the bet, who were staring straight at Su Li, while he walked to the counter to buy something as if nothing had happened.
There was no time to think too much, but that sentence kept popping into my mind, so I reached out and patted my face. My senses returned, but my heart was even more panicked and my face was even hotter.
He packed a cup of hot black tea, then told Fang Yan to pack his things and get ready to leave. He saw one of the girls who had spoken earlier walking towards him. Before the girl could speak, Su Li slowly said, "Sorry, I won't give you my phone number. I'm afraid you won't be able to eat Yanfutang's secret recipe abalone congee. I'm sorry."
The girl froze, her expression shifting rapidly in an instant. Embarrassed, she could only manage an "I'm sorry" before hurriedly running back to her seat and glaring fiercely at her companion. Fang Yanyan, on the other hand, was also quite surprised. After chuckling to himself, he asked, "When did you learn Cantonese?"
"I can understand a little, but I can't speak."
Fang Yanyan found it strange. He had always been close to Su Li, but he had never really understood this cousin. He just vaguely felt that Su Li's feelings for Song Jianan were definitely not ordinary, and that the two of them must have an unclear past.
It's even stranger that someone who has never lived in Guangzhou can understand Cantonese.
Thinking of this, she couldn't hold back any longer and quickly caught up with Su Li. "Brother, I've always found it strange that Sister Jia Nan was put in the spotlight. Did you ask someone to do it?"
"Yes, I spoke to the head of their newspaper."
"Why?"
He opened the car door, closed it, and fastened his seatbelt, but the car didn't start for a long time. Fang Yanyan laughed and said, "Go ahead and tell me. If you really like her and want to pursue her, I won't stop you."
"If you know the answer in your heart, why say it out loud?" She gave Fang Yanyan a cold look. "It's so noisy."
As expected of a repressed pervert, not ashamed but proud, Fang Yanyan sighed, before he could exhale, the BMW suddenly lurched forward, and Fang Yanyan was thrown hard into the soft cushions. He choked on his saliva and said, "Are you trying to murder me?"
"Bad mood."
Fang Yan was so angry that smoke was practically billowing from his head. "If you've got the guts, just confess! Stop babbling on and on, it's so annoying. What's wrong? Has reality finally shattered the cold mask you usually wear? You're upset, aren't you?"
"Say less," his voice finally turned its usual cold indifference. "You don't need to worry about it."
Fang Yan rolled his eyes, the words that were about to slip from his lips but then slid back down. He turned to look at Su Li, feeling more and more smug. It turned out that this guy, who was always cold and ruthless, could also have a temper. He closed his eyes and quietly enjoyed the wonderful mood, while also starting to think about how to be a matchmaker.
When Song Jianan returned to the newspaper office, everyone there was incredibly busy. She didn't dare to slack off either, so she immediately turned on her computer and started working on her article. She wrote just a couple of sentences before getting stuck, as that particular sentence kept popping into her head.
She was really confused about what it meant to want to do more for someone; it was such an ambiguous statement.
Perhaps it was simply the feeling of being a friend, or perhaps it was a feeling of guilt. Song Jianan knew clearly that after so many years of knowing each other, he couldn't possibly be unaware of her feelings. It was just a matter of which feeling he had towards her now.
The city after the snow exuded a touch of joy. The water that had flowed on the windows had long since dried, leaving only crisscrossing water stains. Her mood was like these water stains, densely intertwined, chaotic and tangled.
I was busy finishing my manuscript and didn't get home until 8 pm. Because I've been sick these past few days, the doctor told me I could only eat porridge to soothe my stomach, so I decided to go a long way to have my mom make porridge for me every day.
When she got home, Song's mother and father were watching TV. She went into the kitchen to heat up the leftover porridge from yesterday, but to her surprise, she saw a safe on the table. Song's mother's voice came from behind, "Nannan, I threw away the porridge from yesterday in the refrigerator. It didn't feel right. The porridge on the table is some preserved egg and lean pork porridge that Xiao Duan brought. Heat it up and eat it."
He withdrew his hand from the lid. "Why did he deliver it?"
Mrs. Song replied casually, "When he came to return the food container, he probably saw the medicine you left on the living room table. He asked me what happened, and I told him you had acute gastroenteritis. At that time, I was heating up some food and casually mentioned that the congee had gone bad and needed to be remade. He told me that he was making it at home and brought a bowl over."
She couldn't quite describe the feeling in her heart. She gently picked up the food container, which still had a lingering warmth, just like the coat he had draped over her that day, or the medicine he had secretly brought her when she was sick a long time ago. It was all warm and tender.
But why does he accuse me of being selfish while constantly showing concern for me? What kind of logic is this? Isn't this putting me in a dilemma? What is he really thinking with this ambiguous attitude?
Angrily, Song Jianan threw the food container into the microwave. A fragrant aroma wafted over, and she thought, rather spinelessly, "Forget it, it's not good to waste food. I'll just eat the porridge and then talk to him about it."
After finishing my meal and taking a shower, I was getting ready to go to bed early when I suddenly remembered that I needed to prepare an outline for my presentation at tomorrow's meeting. I reached into my drawer to pull out a sticky note, but instead of a note, I touched a cool, metallic lock.
She opened the drawer and was so surprised she couldn't believe her eyes. The diary she thought she had lost during a move a long time ago was lying there perfectly intact, and the small lock was open.
A small note was tucked into the first page: "Song Jianan, I didn't mean to discover your secret. When I was in America, I kept thinking, if I hadn't been so curious as to peek into your diary, would our ending have been different? I kept thinking, maybe it was fate, that heaven arranged for us to pass each other by, and maybe we really would have missed each other."
There's nothing wrong with liking Su Li. Even without Su Li, you might have fallen for another boy, and that person could have been me. Time and patience can change everything. It's just that I was too timid and insecure, and I let go of your hand too easily. By the time I regretted it, it was really too late. You must have been very disappointed in me. You must have hated me back then.
Lying in bed that night, I thought about how I felt about you—was it guilt, regret, or something else? I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I just hoped you would be happy, that's enough. Regardless of who gave you that happiness.
The noisy sound of the television next door drifted over, but the surrounding space was unusually quiet. Gently stroking the diary, I noticed that the cover had faded considerably, and the pages inside were slightly yellowed. It contained all my childhood memories.
I didn't have the courage to open it and take a look. I just silently locked it again and put it in the bottom drawer of my desk. Let those beautiful and sad memories die in my heart, never to be mentioned again in the cruel joke of fate.
Suddenly, his phone rang, and a message popped up from an unfamiliar number: "This is Duan Jiachen. Are you home right now? Could you come out for a bit? I'm right downstairs at your place."
Song Jianan froze for two seconds, then grabbed her keys and clothes and rushed out the door, leaving her mother and father dumbfounded. "Is this child in a relationship? Running out in the middle of the night."
"I don't know, but I'm not going to go out of my way to set her up on blind dates. She can solve her own problems."
Mr. Song nodded in agreement, “That’s right, I don’t think there’s anyone in our school who’s good enough for my daughter.”
"It's the same in our department."
The two parents nodded knowingly and went back to watching TV.
Song Jianan ran down the stairs, and sure enough, Duan Jiachen was waiting for her in the stairwell with a smile on his face. "Slow down, did you receive my message and run down here immediately?"
She smiled sheepishly, "What do you need me for?"
Let's just wander around.
At night, lights were on in every house in the neighborhood, and the sound of television could be heard from time to time. The snow melted the slowest in the neighborhood garden, covering the withered grass and dust in heaps, and the branches swayed gently in the cold wind.
"Song Jianan, do you still remember where my family's fig tree used to be?"
She looked up at the winding corridor in the garden. "It seems to have been cut down somewhere nearby."
"Yes, you even cried."
"That's because I was crying because I couldn't eat figs anymore, okay?" Song Jianan said embarrassedly. "But it's such a pity. They grew so tall back then, and in the summer the leaves could cover my balcony."
Duan Jiachen chuckled softly, “But what’s lost can never be regained. I’ve known that for a long time, but I never understood it until now. It’s like a fig tree that’s been cut down; if you plant another one, it won’t be the same as the original one.”
She watched him quietly. In the darkness, his bangs were gently brushed aside, and his eyes, like a deep pool, held a profound mix of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness. Many years ago, this boy had comforted her as she sobbed under the fig tree, saying, "Song Jianan, we can plant another one, and it will bear fruit again when it grows up." And now he had grown so much.
The innocent and naive years between them have been worn away by worldly affairs and distance, leaving only blurred traces. Her concealment of him and his distrust of her have severed all their ties.
If you give your heart to someone only once, no matter how long or short it is, and you are betrayed or abandoned, it seems impossible to pick up the pieces of the past and start over.
She didn't want him to do that, and she couldn't bear the thought of him going back on his word.
Her fingernails slowly rubbed against her fingers, creating a chillingly resolute sound in the silent night. She looked up and stared straight into his eyes. "Duan Jiachen, we both know we can't go back, we're just stubbornly refusing to admit it."
“I know, Song Jianan, I understand everything you’re saying, I even understand it better than you do.”
A private car drove by on the side of the road, its bright headlights slowly pressing in, stretching the shadows of the two people on the ground long and overlapping, yet the distance between them seemed vast.
As if disturbed by the light, a pile of snow on the garden cedar fell heavily to the ground, and then everything returned to darkness.