Zhou Qishen put down his chopsticks, placed the lunchbox on the table, and stopped eating.
"If you still want to remarry her, then show me a clear answer. If you don't, then pretend I didn't say anything." Gu Heping leaned against the door, still quite reminiscing. "I still vividly remember how you pursued her back then. What happened to you? Have you lost your edge?"
Zhou Qishen didn't mind his witty remarks. He sat there slumped, his arms resting on his knees, his shoulder blades and neck forming a pleasing arc. He said, "It's not that I don't want to, it's that I dare not."
The three remained silent.
Zhou Qishen raised his hand, covering his eyes with his palm, and his breathing became deeper.
Gu Heping shook his head and sighed, "Back then, you just made a mistake. Xiao Zhao is a sensible person, and he should have figured it out over the years."
Zhou Qishen felt even more guilty.
Old Cheng said, "Xiao Xi is quite well-off. Her father is a university professor, she's an only child, and she's not short of money. Such a beautiful girl has no shortage of suitors. Most other men wouldn't be as good as you. But right now, it's Meng Weixi who's in charge. In a few years, he'll definitely be the one in charge of the Meng family. He's determined to pursue her, and have you forgotten that they dated and had feelings for each other? If you don't make a decision soon, you won't be able to find a wife later."
Zhou Qishen tilted his head back, staring silently at a certain spot on the ceiling.
Gu Heping nudged his toe. "Are you going to chase him or not, buddy? Just say the word."
Before Zhou Qishen could utter a single word, he changed the subject, only asking, "Is your sister still in Paris?"
"Huh? Oh. Yes, I'll be back in a few days."
"Please ask her for a favor."
"Um?"
"Please bring me a few bags back to China."
Gu Heping chuckled, "You've got a really big heart!"
A week later, when Zhao Xiyin returned home from training, she saw Zhao Wenchun staring blankly at the various bags that took up half the living room. Zhao Xiyin thought she had come to the wrong house. "What...what happened?"
Zhao Wenchun was also puzzled: "The courier called me and delivered it. I thought it was something you ordered online."
The packaging bags were mostly Hermes. The father and daughter stared at each other, when Zhou Qishen called. He said, "Uncle Zhao, a friend brought these from abroad. I'm a man and don't need them. Could you please give them to Xiaoxi?"
That's blatantly lying.
Zhao Wenchun didn't understand the reason, but Zhao Xiyin did. After Zhou Qishen finished the call, he sent her a WeChat message, "Tell your mother that you lack nothing and don't need her to worry about you."
Speaking of which, Zhou Qishen's way of treating women has always been this simple and direct. Even when they were together, Zhao Xiyin's wardrobe was never lacking in clothes. Zhou Qishen had instructed several brand stores to send her a new outfit whenever they came out. He was open-minded; though he had a roguish charm, he was never old-fashioned. He wanted Zhao Xiyin to wear comfortable, elegant, and sexy clothes.
Once, a CEO from a supplier company who had a close relationship with Zhou Qishen gave Zhao Xiyin a new outfit from his own brand. It was truly alluring, with deep V-necks in lace on the front and back, reaching below the navel. Zhao Xiyin picked up the clothes and asked Zhou Qishen, "Brother Zhou, you really don't mind me wearing this out?"
Zhou Qishen stared at him for a long time, his gaze shifting between warmth and coldness. Finally, he replied, "Whatever you say."
His tone was nonchalant and seemingly righteous, but the unhappiness in his heart had already soured and fermented. Zhao Xiyin understood him too well. That night, she deliberately dressed up and leaned against the door, waving to him, "Brother Zhou, bye-bye."
The twenty-three-year-old girl was vibrant and beautiful; her every smile and frown could stir his emotions and desires.
Zhou Qishen backed down, went up and kissed her a bunch of times, saying, "To hell with 'whatever'!"
Zhao Xiyin never had the chance to wear that dress out again, because Zhou Qishen tore it to pieces that very night.
Life is about the mundane things like firewood, rice, oil, and salt; it's also about playful tantrums and complaints.
Whenever Zhao Xiyin recalls the past, it is always filled with meaningful memories. No matter how ugly and embarrassing their breakup was afterward, it is undeniable that Zhou Qishen fulfilled his responsibilities as a husband during those years.
Looking at the pile of bags on the ground, Zhao Wenchun's thoughts were straightforward. He sighed and said, "There's not enough space at home, there's no room left."
Zhao Xiyin remained calm and said, "It's okay, I can let it go."
The next day, she delivered the bags to Courtyard No. 1.
After the divorce, Zhou Qishen never came to this house again, but all his belongings were still there. Clothes for all four seasons, a half-used bottle of men's facial cleanser, and even some important documents about his personal investments.
During the divorce, he said, "You can throw everything away, I don't want it anymore."
Whether it was obsession or not, more than two years have passed and Zhao Xiyin still hasn't thrown them away.
It was dusk, and the autumn sunset cast a warm glow over the bedroom. Zhao Xiyin squatted in front of the wardrobe, lost in thought. After half a minute, she neatly put the bags away and left.
——
On Monday, Meng Weixi returned to China from a business trip to Japan. After getting off the plane, Zhang Yijie said, "Mr. Meng, let's have dinner together?"
Meng Weixi checked the time. "I'm not going. You take them there and sign my order."
Although Zhang Yijie was his subordinate, he was also a brother and friend, and his feelings for him were genuine. He said with concern, "It's lunchtime. Even if you're busy eating, you've caught a cold these past two days. Don't neglect your health."
Meng Weixi answered a phone call, handed his luggage to his assistant, and took the elevator to the parking lot alone. When he arrived at the agreed-upon Western restaurant, a short-haired girl smiled and waved to him, "Weixi, over here."
Meng Weixi approached, sat down opposite her, and said with a smile, "I'm sorry, the traffic was terrible, I made you wait so long."
"I'm not waiting for nothing, this meal is on you."
The short-haired girl is named Bai Qi. She and Meng Weixi were high school classmates, and they had a good relationship; their friendship and connection have remained strong over the years. Bai Qi had a crush on Meng Weixi back then, but she accepted the rejection quite calmly, showing a very cheerful and straightforward personality. She got married after graduating from university and is now a mother of two.
Meng Weixi said, "I brought gifts for your children from Japan. I'll have my assistant deliver them to your company tomorrow."
Bai Qi teased, "Wow, you've got quite the airs now."
"The things were shipped out, I rushed over so I didn't wait." Meng Weixi closed the menu. "Don't provoke me, this trick won't work, just accept the gift."
Bai Qi chuckled, "Alright, thanks, Wei Xi."
"How is your father-in-law's health?"