They'd had too much to drink that day. In the end, neither of them knew how they fell asleep.
Jiaqi woke on the sofa with a blanket covering her. The heater was on, and she felt warm. Ruan Zhengdong slept on the other sofa across from her. He must have been too drunk to make it back to his room—he hadn't even covered himself with a blanket, just lay there with one hand hanging over the edge. His silk shirt was wrinkled beyond recognition, and he clutched a pillow to his chest while resting his head on another. He was always so well-dressed, elegant even in pajamas. But seeing him like this, he looked almost like a different person.
Jiaqi got up quietly. Ruan Zhengdong was sleeping soundly. She hesitated for a moment, but didn't wake him.
Yesterday's dishes were still scattered in the kitchen. She soaked them in detergent, then started cooking a pot of porridge. As she worked, she noticed a subtle shift in the light. Turning around, she saw Ruan Zhengdong.
He still wore that wrinkled silk shirt, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded. Jiaqi was impressed—somehow, even disheveled, he didn't look unattractive. If anything, there was something uninhibited about him. When she turned, he smiled. "Snail girl, snail girl, I want to hide your shell."
Jiaqi answered casually. "That's not necessary. I'll pay you fifteen hundred yuan a month. I guarantee the housekeeping company can find you the most dedicated hourly worker."
He laughed and walked away to shower. When he came back, Jiaqi was still busy. He rolled up his sleeves. "I'll wash the dishes for you, but you have to be responsible for making breakfast."
Jiaqi was surprised. "Can you wash dishes?"
He looked affronted. "I've been a soldier!"
She really couldn't tell. "You really have been a soldier?"
"In the navy. The commander of our fleet was an old subordinate of my grandfather. My father entrusted him to teach me a lesson and control me. It was miserable. I've never been so miserable in my life." He sighed. "Even my mother didn't dare to call me. I was truly abandoned by everyone."
She laughed despite herself. The morning sunlight streamed through the window, bright and clear, like her eyes.
The porridge she cooked was delicious and plain, served with fried dough sticks. Jiaqi said, "It would be even more perfect with a plate of pickles."
Ruan Zhengdong smiled. "It's already very good." He paused. "You can't force perfection."
He'd changed into a casual white T-shirt and white trousers. Few people looked as good in white as he did. The phrase "handsome and elegant" was vulgar, but Jiaqi couldn't think of another way to describe it.
It was Saturday. After breakfast he was going to play squash and offered to drive her. But halfway there, the company called—they needed her to work overtime due to an emergency.
Ruan Zhengdong dropped her off downstairs at the company, where Zhou Jing'an spotted them as he got out of a taxi. In the elevator, just the two of them, Zhou Jing'an smiled. "Great, you're living together so soon. This company is so inhumane, asking people to work overtime this early, breaking up your dream for no reason. And he still has to get up to be your driver, tsk tsk..."
Jiaqi rolled her eyes. "You can't spit out ivory from a dog's mouth. Who would live with him?"
"Then why has he been so attentive recently, coming to pick you up every now and then? Look at the way he smiles when he looks at you—there are practically electric arcs in his eyes. I don't believe you don't feel it at all. What's more, he drove you to work early this morning. Look at the rosy glow on both your faces. If there's nothing going on between you two, I'm afraid Brother Jin could become Yang Guo. I won't believe it even if you kill me."
Jiaqi was stunned by these words. Later, thinking it over carefully, she realized she'd been too close to Ruan Zhengdong. It would be pointless to continue like this. She found an opportunity and told Ruan Zhengdong they shouldn't meet again.
He wasn't a man without grace. Though the gift-buying incident had angered him and caused him to lose his composure—when he'd forcefully kissed her, she'd been genuinely distraught. His force was so strong, she'd almost thought she'd never break free. But eventually, he let go, simply staring at her and muttering, "How could it be you?"
In that moment, he looked weary, his eyes filled with a hollow, deep sadness. He looked at her like a stranger, someone he didn't even recognize.
Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn't tell if they were falling from anxiety or embarrassment.
And then they didn't see each other again, just as they hadn't seen each other since she went to the hospital.
Jiaqi felt surreal. That reunion with Meng Heping in the hospital hadn't happened—or it felt like it hadn't, like it was just her imagination. For years, she'd imagined seeing Meng Heping again, wondering what it would be like if she could see him again.
Because she'd imagined it so many times, over and over, finally seeing him again felt like time had reversed, like a dream.
She almost began to dread seeing Meng Heping again. He'd been gone for so long, no longer hers, yet he had walked back into her life. Such cruelty—she could only watch helplessly.
She didn't want to be an ostrich, but she couldn't force herself.
Zhou Jing'an asked her, "Why aren't you going to the hospital? The rich man was very kind to you back then. You can't be so heartless."
Jiaqi took a long time to resolve herself before going to the hospital to see Ruan Zhengdong again.
Traffic was jammed in front of the hospital. The scorching smell of taxi exhaust was overwhelming, and the shrill sirens of ambulances wailed through the dusty air. Jiaqi stopped in front of a small flower shop. The owner seized the opportunity. "Going to see a patient? Buy a bouquet. Flowers are so nice to send. Today's fire lilies are the freshest."
Jiaqi thought of the bouquets and baskets that filled half the corridor and couldn't help but laugh. Amidst the vibrant colors, she suddenly spotted a tiny speck of delicate white. She reached out and scooped up a handful of thin flowers with long stems that made them seem even more isolated.
She asked, "How much?"
The shop owner said, "Don't pick these for patients. They're not suitable. Buy a bunch of fire lilies—they're pretty and festive."
She paused. "I'm not buying them for patients. How much does this cost?"
"Ten yuan."
It had been years since she'd bought ginger flowers. She used to buy them often, taking a bunch home with Heping from the market for two or three yuan a bunch. She hadn't expected them to cost ten yuan now.
Unexpectedly, Ruan Zhengdong was delighted to see the flowers. "Are they for me?"
She grumbled, "You're dreaming. I brought them home to put in a vase."
"How stingy!" He narrowed his eyes when he was angry. "You always come empty-handed. How dare you!"
"Half the corridor is filled with flowers people gave you. You still think you have too many?"
Someone knocked at the door—three gentle, light knocks. The door was actually open. Ruan Zhengdong turned and saw Ruan Jiangxi standing there. She was tall, and from a distance, she looked like a lotus arrow, with a pure, straight, symmetrical beauty. But her smile was sweet, and she simply smiled at the two of them.
Ruan Zhengdong asked her, "Why are you here?"
"Secretary Zhang said Mom would come see you this afternoon, so she asked me to come too. I saw it was still early, so I came first." Ruan Jiangxi greeted Jiaqi, still smiling. She called her by name with such familiarity. "Jiaqi, this flower is so beautiful. What kind of flower is it?"
"It's ginger flowers."
"Oh, I think we have some in the garden at home, but they're red, like butterflies, and they're really pretty."
Ruan Zhengdong said, "Those are poppies at home, not ginger flowers."
Jiangxi said, "It's obviously ginger flowers—how long have you been home? I'm afraid you even forgot which way the door faces."
As they were talking, the phone rang. After Ruan Zhengdong finished the call, he glanced at Jiaqi and told Jiangxi, "Secretary Zhang will be here with Mom."
Jiaqi felt it was inconvenient since Ruan Zhengdong's mother was coming. For some reason, she felt vaguely uneasy. "I'm afraid I have to go. I have things to do at the company."
After going downstairs and exiting the elevator, she passed someone taking another elevator up, followed by several doctors in white coats, like stars surrounding the moon. They ran into Jiaqi head-on. She didn't pay much attention at the time because her phone was ringing in her bag, and she was busy holding the flowers, one hand free to answer the call.
That evening, Jiaqi and Zhou Jing'an went to eat mutton hotpot. They frequented this restaurant because it was delicious and always packed. The steaming hotpot, the aroma of mutton, chives, and sweet garlic wafted through the pleasant, fine white broth. Zhou Jing'an loved this restaurant most, saying that even if they weren't eating, just looking at it warmed their hearts. Jiaqi loved it too. Most importantly, the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. The ceiling-mounted TV was playing the news, and the restaurant bustled with people, making it hard to hear what they were saying. Jiaqi picked up a piece of mutton with her chopsticks and glanced up at the TV. The mutton was so hot it burned her. Frowning and sighing, she asked Zhou Jing'an, "Hey, who's that on TV?"
Zhou Jing'an glanced at the TV. "Isn't that so-and-so's wife?" Then, "What's wrong?"
Jiaqi shook her head. "Nothing. I got the wrong person."
She was a little surprised to receive a call from Ruan Zhengdong that evening. It was late, and he had nothing special to say. Jiaqi was tired, so she leaned against the bedside, flipping through a novel by the wall lamp, listening to him chatter about which nurse was pretty. She couldn't help but find it funny that he couldn't even stay idle in the hospital, busy flirting with the young nurses.
Ruan Zhengdong said, "Who said I was flirting with the young nurses? They were the ones flirting with me."
Jiaqi was amused. "Why do you talk like Bai Yang?"
Ruan Zhengdong asked her, "Who is Bai Yang?"
Jiaqi said, "I won't tell you."
He was silent for a moment. "Is he a man?"
Jiaqi said, "Yes, he's a pretty good man." She couldn't help laughing. "It's someone on TV. Don't let your imagination run wild."
She regretted saying this, and sure enough, he cheered up. "Who has wild imaginations? I never have wild imaginations." He asked again, "What are you doing?"
Jiaqi regretted her mistake and her tone became calm again. "I'm reading. I'm going to bed. You should go to bed early too. You're a patient, so don't stay up too late. That's all." Without waiting for him to say anything, she hung up quickly.
In fact, she couldn't sleep. She got out of bed and found a Spanish dictionary to memorize words. It was a habit she'd developed as a student—whenever she couldn't sleep, she would use a dictionary as thick as a brick to memorize words, hoping to fall asleep while reciting. She sat cross-legged on her bed, mumbling to herself in the quiet of the night. She felt like Tang Sanzang, a faint amusement. Just as she got to the word "bailar," her phone rang again. Seeing it was Ruan Zhengdong again, she felt strange, but answered anyway.
He asked, "Are you still awake?"
"Huh?"
"Can you come downstairs?"
Her mind was still swirling with jumbled letters. She asked, confused, "Where downstairs?"
"Downstairs."
She gasped, jumped out of bed, and opened the curtains. In the chill of the early winter night, even the streetlights shimmered, illuminating a lone taxi parked in front of the apartment building.
It was too high up to make out anyone, only a dark shadow.
She hurriedly threw on her coat and went downstairs. Once in the elevator, she realized she was wearing slippers, but she didn't care. As soon as she left the apartment building, she saw Ruan Zhengdong leaning against a taxi. He wore only a thin black cashmere coat, his hands shoved sideways in his pockets. He looked like a truly elegant young man, as relaxed as if he were leaning against his Maybach.
She was furious. "What are you doing? Why did you run away from the hospital? Are you going to die?"
He smiled at her, exhaling a large cloud of white mist. "Let's talk in the car. It's cold."
It was indeed cold. After getting in the car, the taxi driver in the driver's seat said cheerfully, "Girl, let's talk it over nicely. The guy came here in the middle of the night—he's really sincere." He thought they were a couple who had a quarrel. Jiaqi was very depressed. The driver got out of the car to smoke after he finished speaking. The car was still running, the engine humming, and the heater blowing on her face. She asked, "What are you doing here?"
Ruan Zhengdong said, "How come you are not romantic at all? If it were someone else, who wouldn't be moved to death if I suddenly came to visit them in the middle of the night while sick?"
Jiaqi felt both amused and helpless. "Please go back soon. I can't be held responsible if something really happens."
He laughed again, his narrow, almond-shaped eyes squinting with a strange look. There was just a flash. "Why? So, are you going to be responsible for me?"
Jiaqi was really powerless. "Can you be serious?"
He seemed righteous. "I have always been serious."
Jiaqi felt completely defeated. "How can the hospital let you out? Can you go back quickly? You are still a patient."
Ruan Zhengdong said, "The hospital just wouldn't let me out. I used my beauty to deceive the nurse on duty and sneaked out. You still look disgusted. Do I have it easy?"
Jiaqi chuckled, but immediately restrained her smile. "You'd better go back. It's late and so cold. Don't catch a cold."
He asked, "Are you concerned about me?"
Jiaqi felt frustrated again. "Yes, yes, I care about you very much. If you have anything to say, call me tomorrow. Can you go back first?"
He suddenly restrained his smile and said very calmly, "No." After a pause, he said, "I came here just to say a few words to you, and I will go back after I finish speaking."
The car seemed to quiet all of a sudden. The hissing sound of the warm air blowing from the vents at the front of the car was clearly audible. Jiaqi suddenly felt flustered and forced a smile. "What are you going to say?"
He suddenly laughed out loud. "Look how scared you are. You don't think I'm here to borrow money from you, do you? In fact, I just want you to help me get some cigarettes. The hospital doesn't allow me to smoke, and Jiangxi won't help me. It's really killing me. Why do you say hepatitis requires people to quit smoking? It's not pneumonia. These doctors are more ridiculous than each other."
She was really scared by him. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief and smiled. "That won't do. The doctor must have his reasons for saying to quit smoking. I won't help you with this."
He angrily accused her, "You're so disloyal! We're friends, and yet you won't even help with such a small matter."
She evaded him. "What kind of cigarettes do you usually smoke? I'll buy some tomorrow."
She knew what kind of cigarettes he smoked—she'd seen them a few times before. They came in white paper packaging with no labels or anything. They were specially made and supplied in Yunnan, and Meng Heping had once given two packs to her father. So every time she saw Ruan Zhengdong smoking, she'd feel a sense of bewilderment and sadness, but it all passed. She also knew it was impossible to buy these cigarettes outside, so she just gave him a casual apology.
Sure enough, he thought for a moment. "I'm used to smoking this kind, but I'm afraid they're not available elsewhere. You'll have to find someone to get them for me. You know Rong Bo, right? I'll give you his number, and you can get them from him tomorrow."
Rong Bo? She remembered Mr. Rong, the man who'd said he was "unprecedented" the first time they played cards. Their last deal was also thanks to his help. Their boss called him "Mr. Rong." He was a very elegant and handsome man. Ruan Zhengdong's friends were all like him—impeccably dressed and impeccably presented. She sighed. "You'd better stop smoking. Even if you're not sick, smoking isn't good for you. Besides, you're a patient now. Since the doctor told you to quit, just quit."
He suddenly turned hostile. "If you don't want to, forget it. Who else can I ask for help? Get out of the car! Don't think I can't do without you."
Jiaqi was stunned for a moment, then pushed open the car door without a word. He was a patient, so she could forgive his mood swings and didn't hold it against him. But he had never lost his temper with her before. This was the first time, and she didn't know what had provoked him. The driver who was smoking behind a tree to avoid the wind saw her get out of the car, threw away his cigarette butt, walked over and smiled. "Are you done?"
She nodded, her smile a little forced—in fact it was because of the cold. She wasn't wearing a sweater, and the coat hung empty. The wind blew straight into her neck. The cold air made her want to cough. She hurried into the apartment.
As soon as she entered the elevator, the phone rang. She saw it was Ruan Zhengdong. She really didn't want to answer, but she did anyway.
There was a long silence on the other end. She could even hear his breathing and the faint whistling of the car. He must be on the way, but why did he call? Finally, she couldn't help herself. "What's the matter?"
He said, "Jiaqi, I'm sorry."
She hurriedly said, "It's okay, I've forgotten about it. You're in a bad mood, so it's normal for you to say a few words to me."
He said, "No, I was wrong."
She tried her best to comfort him. "It's okay, it's really okay. I really don't care. It's just a word—don't take it to heart."
He said, "No, I was wrong, Jiaqi, I was wrong. I didn't come here today to get cigarettes. I just wanted to see you. Jiaqi, what I said just now was all lies. I don't even know what was going on, but I just can't stand you pretending with me like that, you playing dumb in front of me like that. I just can't stand it..."
He paused, his voice desolate.
"I love you."
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