Her throat felt like it was on fire again, and her nose felt numb. She went to her room and coughed violently again, her face turning bright red, and she was panting as she spoke, "I'm burning up from the chili peppers."
“Song Jianan, every time I see you, something always happens.” He frowned, then noticed a bottle of medicated oil on the bedside table, picked it up, and said, “Smell it a few times, and you’ll feel much better.”
Sure enough, the medicated oil soothed her a lot. She raised her head, ignoring her teary eyes, and kept refuting, "Duan Jiachen, you're no better. Last time you got drunk and collapsed on the restaurant bathroom floor, how were you any different from a drunkard?"
The words had barely left her mouth when she regretted them. The man in front of her lowered his head and let out a soft sigh. She saw his pointed chin and the curve of his cheeks, which seemed unchanged over the years. A slight stirring in her heart made her unable to resist asking, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming back? Did you really...?" The last three words seemed to be squeezed out, even he found it difficult to say, "You don't want to see me."
His mouth opened and closed again, the warmth in his eyes slowly turned cold, and a mocking smile appeared on his lips. "Song Jianan, it's not that I don't want to see you, I just don't know how to face you."
Author's Note:
winter in my heart
Xiao Duan: When I saw Song Jianan, my heart sank like winter in my heart.
Mou Li: I haven't even started torturing you yet, what are you calling me?
Xiao Duan: Because when you started to torture me, I couldn't even scream anymore~
A certain distance: ￥%&……#@@@#……&%…×&
Daily updates? That's practically mission impossible!
"Time's Edge" by Sheng Li, Chapter 36 — Jinjiang Original Website [Works Library]
She tilted her head back and breathed heavily, her movements somewhat exaggerated, like a squirrel that had just drowned and crawled ashore in a disheveled state. She tried her best to look relaxed, or even more comical, saying, "Isn't everything fine right now? Why talk about facing it or not?"
Upon hearing this, his expression changed instantly. He turned around, walked to the computer, pulled out a chair with practiced ease, sat down, and casually picked up a magazine scattered on the table to flip through. "I'm checking an email."
Song Jianan stared blankly at his retreating figure, her nose and throat still burning, and her heart burning with unease.
Duan Jiachen had his back to her and shouldn't have been able to see Song Jianan, but the light from the windowpane clearly reflected her dazed, staring expression. This way of interacting seemed just like before. A long time ago, when they were still in high school, her family had a computer, and he would always come over with all sorts of pirated discs to play games.
She had no concept of computers back then and never fought with him for the computer. She always liked to lie on the bed and read, listening to the crisp clicking of the mouse on the computer desk. Whenever he played games, he would split his thoughts in two and talk to her while playing. If she wanted to drink water after reading for a long time, she would ask him to get her some, and he would obediently pause the game.
Once, she asked for water, but he was stuck fighting a boss and wouldn't move. It took him ages to finally bring her a glass of water. She got so angry that she yelled, "You've gone too far! I'll tell your mother! Remember, this computer is mine. I'm the landlord, and you're the tenant farmer!"
He could only helplessly explain, "Song Jianan, I was fighting a BOSS just now, and I couldn't pause it. If I got killed, I would have to start over."
She asked curiously, "What is a BOSS?"
"It's an unusually ferocious monster, the boss of all the smaller monsters."
Song Jianan thought about it seriously for a while, "Then you're Ultraman?"
He laughed rather unkindly, then struck a cross pose, declaring, "I am the embodiment of love and justice, Team Rocket, the guardians of world peace! Monsters, where do you think you're going!"
Her eyes widened. "Duan Jiachen, you actually called me a monster!"
"No way, you're clearly the big boss!" He was hit squarely on the shoulder by a pillow, feeling incredibly smug. He watched as Song Jianan angrily continued reading her book, and felt a warm glow inside.
He silently kept a thought to himself: Song Jianan, Song Jianan, you are the biggest boss in my life, but I am neither Ultraman nor Calabash Brother. I am just a little monster under your command. I can't beat you, so I can only accompany you.
Song's mother called from outside, "The two kids are here to eat." Song Jianan was startled and couldn't help but let out a small, soft "Ah." Duan Jiachen stood up and looked at her, "What's wrong?" His tone was still indifferent.
She quickly shook her head. "I was just spacing out. I was startled. Let's go eat."
He said "Oh" and walked out of the room. Song Jianan straightened her clothes, feeling increasingly sad. The words her mother had just called out seemed familiar and familiar. When they were little, she and Duan Jiachen's mother would call out to the two children all the time, as if in their eyes, they had never grown up.
They never grew up, and remained as playful and carefree as children, childhood sweethearts, always laughing and chatting. But who would have thought that they would now have nothing in common to talk about, becoming as distant as strangers?
The meal was a great success, with everyone enjoying themselves. Mr. Song even brought out his family's treasured Moutai, which the two middle-aged men drank with great relish. Mrs. Song and Mrs. Duan also chatted happily. Only Song Jianan and Duan Jiachen occasionally responded with a few words, but they didn't talk to each other and just quietly finished the food on the table.
She wanted to say something to break the silence, but didn't know how to start. So she just bit her chopsticks and silently looked at the delicate dishes in front of her. A pair of chopsticks reached over and picked up a steaming bun. "Didn't you like eating this when you were little?"
Taking the opportunity, Song Jianan asked, "Duan Jiachen, have you found a job since you returned to China?"
"Yes, an architectural design institute."
"How wonderful! You were the top student in our class to get in. Back then, I thought you'd be an architect and build houses for free. I was so envious. Looking back now, I realize how naive I was." She paused and then added, "Now you're a returnee from overseas, sigh."
Duan Jiachen didn't reply, but gently tapped the rim of his bowl with his chopsticks. "Song Jianan, didn't you used to be quiet during meals?"
She felt frustrated and muttered to herself, "People change, don't they?"
"Oh." Her hand holding the chopsticks trembled slightly. "Let's eat."
Dinner was eaten slowly. After finishing, the adults said they were going to Uncle Wang's house in the next building to play cards and mahjong. Duan Jiachen was surfing the internet in her room, so Song Jianan had to quietly clean up the dishes by herself.
The sound of rushing water masked the footsteps behind her. She was annoyed that her bangs kept slipping down her ears, but both her hands were greasy, so she tried to rub them with her arms. A hand reached out and asked, "Do you want some clips?"
She nodded quickly, "Help me clip this damn hair up."
He did as he was told, then stood aside and asked, "Do you need any help?"
"Please put the bowls and chopsticks in the sterilizer, and bring me the plastic wrap on the table. Oh, and I'll pack these dishes in an airtight container for you. My mom made two portions; you can just have the housekeeper heat them up when you get home."
"Let me do it, give me a pair of chopsticks." He took the food, put it into a food storage container, closed the lid, and then brought over another plate, wrapping it in plastic wrap. Watching his back, Song Jianan felt a strange pang of sadness. "Duan Jiachen, are you doing well in America?"
Why ask this all of a sudden? It's all in the past anyway.
Song Jianan bit her lip. "So, how are you doing now? Do you feel uncomfortable going home? Last time you went out to eat, I saw Zhang Jingkang. She seemed to care about you a lot. Are you two together?"
"No, you're overthinking it." He didn't even look up, focusing only on his work.
The wind outside lashed against the windows, snowflakes splashed onto the glass, separating them from the night, creating a stark contrast between black and white. Inside, the warmth of the heater made Song Jianan feel inexplicably cold. The man's conscious distance made her feel inexplicably uncomfortable. She walked to the table, leaned forward slightly, and whispered, "Duan Jiachen, do you hate me?"
"No." He glanced at her indifferently. "You're overthinking it."
She couldn't help but question, "Then why did you talk to me so perfunctorily? Why did you act so indifferent?"
The porcelain bowl and the tile gently clinked together, making a crisp sound. He finally stopped what he was doing, staring directly into Song Jianan's eyes, his gaze chillingly cold. "Song Jianan, what do you want me to say? How do you want me to talk to you?"
She was stunned for a moment, then heard Duan Jiachen say coldly, "You're still with him? What right do you expect me to speak to you? What tone should I use to congratulate you, or a sour tone?"
"Him?" He didn't react for a moment. "Who?"
He tilted his head slightly; his neck was a little uncomfortable from looking down for so long. "Su Li, the class monitor of Class 8 in high school." He paused and added, "I saw you in his car in front of the mall last time."
She suddenly didn't know how to argue, "We're not in that kind of relationship, we're just friends."
“Friend?” Duan Jiachen narrowed his eyes, stared at her for a while, and then helplessly curled his lips. “Song Jianan, I don’t know what to say to you. After all these years, you have finally found him again.”
"In all these years, have you ever forgotten him?" he said with a smile, but the coldness in his eyes froze. "I don't know which of us was the fool, or if we were both. I'm thinking now, if you had really been with me back then, and Su Li had appeared in front of you one day, would you have dumped me immediately? Isn't that ridiculous?"
“How could that be?” she answered without hesitation, then lowered her eyes. “You’re different.”
“Because he is the protagonist of your story, while I can only be your childhood sweetheart, Song Jianan, for the rest of my life. Isn’t that different?” He sighed deeply, his smile deepening. “Isn’t that right?”
His words and reaction sent chills down Song Jianan's spine. Not knowing how to respond, she could only plead, "Duan Jiachen, don't say that. Can't we just talk properly? Why do we have to do this?"
She couldn't catch her breath, feeling a pressure on her chest, and even her voice became hoarse, "Can't we just be friends?"
"Just like before."
"Like before? What was it like before?"
She used to laugh and shout without any restraint or ladylike manners, feast on snacks at food stalls without any regard for her image, ask math questions several times without feeling ashamed, yell at him fiercely when she was angry, and tug at his clothes and pester him to sing when she was sad. But why have they become like this now?
His fingers gently pressed on the safe, and the lid of the safe lifted up a corner, then closed, then lifted up again, repeating this several times. Duan Jiachen said, "Song Jianan, you are really selfish."
She looked at him in surprise. His expression softened considerably, but his eyes held a greater sense of indifference. "I'm your best male friend, listening to you tell me every day what Su Li and you did together, how much you like him; when you're sad, I'm the first to comfort you; will I also congratulate you with a smile when you get married? All the good I do for you is just because I'm your friend, so you take it all for granted. But what is the source of all this?"
"It's because I like you, Song Jianan."
"That's why I can stand by your side and be a band-aid when you're sad and upset. But when you're happy and joyful, when your pain is gone, I have to slide off the wound."
"Tell me, are you selfish or not?"
He spoke casually as he put the food container into a plastic bag, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him, and he was just an outsider watching. He looked up and smiled softly, "Tell me, how can we be friends?"
Standing opposite, Song Jianan looked at Duan Jiachen, who was smiling like that, and suddenly felt a sharp pain in his heart. He picked up the bag and said, "I'm leaving. I'll return the safe another day."
She didn't know where the courage came from, but she grabbed his sleeve and said in an unusually firm voice, "Don't go."
It seems that if she lets go, all those past memories will be taken away by time, and all those joys and sweetness will just be a dream. She has already lost many of her former friends and doesn't want him to ignore her forever, not even sparing her a smile.
He simply pried her hand away and said clearly, word by word, "Song Jianan, you didn't want to see Su Li with other girls before, so you chose to run away. And now, I don't want to see you with other men either. You can understand my thoughts."
"Whether I'm selfish or you're selfish, we can't go back."
Her fingers slowly loosened, falling limply to the cold rim of the bowl. Duan Jiachen lowered his head and walked past her, followed by a soft slam of the door closing, leaving the room empty.
The porcelain bowl spun around on the table twice before crashing to the ground with a loud bang, shattering into pieces. Numbly, she squatted down, trying to pick up the shards, but accidentally cut her index finger, and a drop of dark red blood instantly fell onto the white fragments.
She raised her hand, and under the light, the lovely pink on her nails shimmered with a subtle glow. But upon closer inspection, a small piece was missing from the edge of her nail for no apparent reason, making it look awkward and unsightly.
"Song Jianan, you are really selfish." She slowly stood up, facing the person in the glass window, and said with a bitter smile.
Author's Note:
Don't walk away
It's such a sad piece of music; let's skip that discordant Korean note at the end.
To be honest, I accidentally tormented myself a little by my own outrageous acts of abusing Xiao Duan.
When I wrote about the BOSS monster, I suddenly felt a pang of sadness, though it was only for a moment.
It's cold, and then today I was abused by some shameless people, and then by some outrageous people.
My life is a lame joke.