Chapter 261: The Festival (12)
Hah, what detestable capital.
The sky outside the window had gone completely dark.
Evenings in my hometown always arrived especially early.
The moment the sun set, the entire village would darken.
In the distance, someone was taking in laundry, someone was calling the children in for dinner.
A dog barked a few times and then fell silent.
I thought of that scene of Zhi Nian and Gu Fan sitting at the edge of the bed.
Gu Fan’s shoelace had come undone.
Zhi Nian was looking down at him, the corners of her mouth curved.
That scene, how should I put it…
It wasn’t the kind of earth-shattering scene from a movie that made you want to screenshot it and post it to your moments.
It was just ordinary.
So ordinary that it would be cut from any movie.
But that kind of ordinary, I hadn’t seen many times from childhood to now.
I stood up and pushed the chair back under the table.
Fine.
Let it be like this.
Suddenly I remembered I had forgotten to tell Zhi Nian “I’m sorry, I deceived her.”
Forget it, I’ll say it when there’s a chance later.
After all… I didn’t have a boyfriend at all.
I received that phone call while I was cooking instant noodles in my rented room.
The noodle brick had just gone into the pot when my phone vibrated.
The vibration sounded like boiling water, surging rhythmically in the pot.
I glanced at the caller ID and paused — it was a number from back home, but I hadn’t saved this name.
I answered.
An unfamiliar voice came from the other end.
Polite, distant, carrying that unhurried rhythm unique to those in higher positions.
It was Zhi Nian’s father.
I hadn’t seen him many times.
In my impression he always wore dark clothes, didn’t speak loudly, and even when he smiled it felt like there was a layer of something in between, with a clearly defined sense of distance.
Handsome looks, that was true…
Even now that he was older you could still tell he had been very good-looking when young.
Using “handsome” to describe him didn’t seem problematic.
Zhi Nian never mentioned him, and I knew better than to ask.
But I knew he had money.
The hometown had gone from an ordinary little village to the civilized town it was now; Zhi Nian’s father had contributed no small amount of help.
When people back home mentioned him, their tone would change, as if talking about someone who didn’t belong to that place, yet their words carried a rather awkward respect and admiration.
“How has Zhi Nian been lately?” he asked.
I said she was doing fine.
He was silent for a while.
That silence wasn’t from having nothing to say; he was weighing his words.
I could feel what he was thinking on the other end — how to open his mouth without seeming too deliberate, how to phrase it so I couldn’t refuse.
Then he said it.
Give me a sum of money.
Have me go take a look at Zhi Nian.
Not to say anything to her, not to bring her back.
Just look.
See if she was doing well, if there was anyone by her side, whether that person was reliable.
If she felt it was good, then it was good.
If she felt it wasn’t good —
He didn’t continue.
I stared at the noodles tumbling in the pot and thought for about three seconds.
I was clear about my own family’s situation.
Student loans weighing on me, counting coins to get by in the last few days of every month, getting by on the cheapest cafeteria set meal.
The compensation Zhi Nian’s father was offering was enough for me to live on for a long time.
And it wasn’t like he was asking me to harm anyone.
So I answered that it was fine.
I accepted the task.
After hanging up, I fished out the noodles, mixed in a bit of soy sauce, ate two bites and put it down.
Not because it didn’t taste good; my mind was thinking about things.
That person by Zhi Nian’s side, the boy named Gu Fan, I had never met, only seen photos Zhi Nian had given me.
He looked decent, his gaze quite steady, posture very upright, and carrying an ineffable sense of confidence.
I estimated that at school he wasn’t just good at studies; his social skills were pretty good too.
He should be taking decent care of Zhi Nian.
Every time Zhi Nian mentioned him, her whole person would relax, like a cat that had finally found its nest.
I thought, taking the opportunity of this county town festival to take a look, confirm her current living situation, go back and report to her father “she’s doing pretty well,” and the matter would be done.
Money in hand, no one hurt, the best of both worlds.
Unfortunately… I underestimated this matter.
There were a lot of people on the day of the festival.
After chatting around the pavilion, Zhi Nian linked her arm through mine and walked slowly among those intangible cultural heritage promotion stalls.
Her mood seemed pretty good.
Although she still didn’t talk much, her eyes were bright, glancing into the crowd from time to time as if looking for something.
I knew she was looking for Gu Fan.
I didn’t point it out.
Young people in love were just like that, wishing they could stick together twenty-four hours a day.
I found it amusing, and also a bit envious — at least Zhi Nian had someone she could look for.
Using going to the bathroom as an excuse, I found an unoccupied and concealed spot, took some photos of the surrounding environment, and incidentally took a few photos of Zhi Nian who was still wandering around by herself in the distance, to report back to her father.
After getting ready, I walked toward Zhi Nian, preparing to call her to leave the festival when… we found Gu Fan.
No, to be precise, I saw him first.
That boy named Gu Fan was standing in front of a stall selling accessories, next to an unfamiliar short-haired girl.
Her hairstyle was somewhat similar to mine, but she looked younger, more energetic, like those JK beautiful girls that only exist in anime.
That short-haired girl was holding a box of takoyaki, raising a toothpick to Gu Fan’s mouth.
Perhaps it was a matter of the angle being off, I saw Zhi Nian not far away with her back to Gu Fan, her expression suddenly change a little.
Although not long after, Zhi Nian returned to her usual indifferent expression, you could tell something was different.
It was like someone had slashed a cut on her face, and then in the next second she had sewn that cut back up.
Sewn not quite neatly, the stitches were messy.
Maybe I saw wrong.
I couldn’t be sure that the boy named Gu Fan was a 100% good man; maybe behind the scenes he played around more than anyone?
But I hurriedly went around from the other side, thinking to say to Zhi Nian “Look, isn’t that Gu Fan,” but I didn’t say it out loud.
Zhi Nian didn’t go up to greet him.
She stood in place, like a tree frozen stiff by the wind.
When I pulled her away, she didn’t resist.
Her fingers were ice-cold, the knuckles stiffly jammed in my palm.
She didn’t speak the whole way.
I didn’t speak either.
When we arrived at the place she lived, as soon as the door closed, she took out her phone and started making a call, without even taking off her shoes.
I glanced at the phone screen; it was a call to Gu Fan.
I stood by the bedroom door, not knowing whether I should go in or go out.
In the end I found a compromise position — sitting in the corner of the living room by the hallway.
Not too close, not too far, just enough to hear her voice.
Her voice wasn’t quite right.
At first it was taut, like a string pulled to its limit, every word squeezed out from between her teeth.
Then it slowly changed, becoming soft, becoming fragmented, turning into a river of emotion that made your heart tighten and ache when you heard it.
She said a lot.
Talking about how he looked standing together with Shiratori, talking about that takoyaki ball, talking about those messy thoughts in her head.
Saying she felt she was disgusting, saying she didn’t deserve him, saying she was afraid he would leave, saying she was afraid he would be like her own father.
I clenched my own hands, knuckles turning white.
What Gu Fan said on the other end of the phone, I couldn’t hear clearly; Zhi Nian hadn’t put it on speaker.
But Zhi Nian’s voice was changing.
From sharp to trembling, from trembling to quiet, from quiet to… nothing at all.
The phone smashed onto the floor with a thud.
It was quiet for a few seconds.
Quiet for a long time.
Zhi Nian stood frozen in place, her gaze glued dazedly to the phone screen.
I saw her fingers constantly pressing the power button, but the screen didn’t light up again.
Then I saw her slide down from the edge of the bed, body curling up, like a sick cat whose tail had been stepped on.
Then she started dry heaving, covering her mouth as she rushed into the bathroom, lying over the edge of the toilet, vomiting until the sky went dark.
I stood up, not knowing what I should do.