On the eve of their departure for Tahiti, Zheng Kunyu had retreated upstairs after their encounter, leaving not a sound behind. After finishing his barbecue, Qi Bailu spent some time pondering Zheng Kunyu’s psychological state. Sensing that the man might truly be incensed this time, he hesitated, wondering if he should go up and coax him. But Zheng Kunyu was never easy to appease. Consequently, Qi Bailu dawdled downstairs, dragging his feet until it was finally time for bed before slowly making his way toward the bedrooms.
As he passed Zheng Kunyu’s room—though "passing" wasn't quite accurate, as he was heading straight for his own door—he noticed that since their doors were adjacent, he could see Zheng Kunyu inside his room packing. A suitcase lay open on the floor.
Qi Bailu leaned against the doorframe and observed for a moment. Zheng Kunyu was in the walk-in closet and didn't notice him at first. A moment later, Zheng Kunyu emerged, tossed a shirt still on its hanger onto the bed, and as he reached up to adjust his glasses, he caught sight of Qi Bailu standing in the doorway.
*Is he running away from home?* Qi Bailu wondered. That would be a rare sight indeed.
The traces of feigned irritation from earlier had vanished from Zheng Kunyu’s face. He spoke tonelessly, "Go check your room. I have a pair of black swimming trunks; see if they're with you."
So he wasn't running away; he was planning to follow him to the ends of the earth. Qi Bailu remained silent for a beat before asking, "Why would your swimming trunks be in my room?"
Shirts, coats, socks—it was possible for those things to get mixed up. But swimming trunks were usually tucked away, and besides, Zheng Kunyu’s clothes were not his size.
Zheng Kunyu gave him a brief look, then opened another cabinet to continue his search, to no avail. Seeing him struggle, Qi Bailu went back to his own room to rummage around. To his surprise, he actually found them in a corner of his wardrobe. He racked his brain for a long time until a fragmented memory surfaced—something about that time by the pool downstairs. The water had been so cold, yet the two of them had stayed half-submerged in it, and both had ended up coming down with a cold.
Though they were boxer-style, the fabric was incredibly thin and felt weightless in his hand. *He really intends to wear these...?* Qi Bailu gripped the waistband and tossed the trunks into the suitcase. "I’ve already promised Yuewei. I can't break my word to her."
Zheng Kunyu didn't respond. He sat on the edge of the bed as before, eyes downcast as he folded his clothes. Observing his expression, Qi Bailu asked hesitantly, "You don't mind her coming along? Aren't you very busy?"
"And that's why you didn't even bother to ask me?" Zheng Kunyu swept a thoughtful glance over him, his eyes undeniably sharp.
Qi Bailu decided it was best not to answer that. He pointedly changed the subject. "Did you buy a ticket?"
Before Zheng Kunyu could answer, the phone on the nightstand rang. Zheng Kunyu folded the sleeve of a gaudy Hawaiian shirt and tilted his chin toward Qi Bailu, signaling for him to bring the phone over. Qi Bailu stood up to get it, but when he held it out, Zheng Kunyu didn't reach for it. Qi Bailu had no choice but to take the call for him, holding the phone up to Zheng Kunyu’s ear.
It was like serving a high-and-mighty lord. Qi Bailu stood there listening to him discuss work. Zheng Kunyu folded clothes while listening to his secretary’s report. Once the report was finished, he began to deliver scathing remarks in a leisurely, unhurried manner, showing no mercy whatsoever. The secretary seemed stunned into silence, not daring to breathe. Qi Bailu’s face felt a bit hot; it felt as though those harsh words were actually a veiled attack directed at him.
As soon as the call ended, Qi Bailu hung up immediately, intending to set the phone aside. However, Zheng Kunyu grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand toward him. Using Qi Bailu’s hand, he pressed a few buttons on the screen. Once the "ring-ring" of a connection sounded, he let go and picked up another garment to fold.
Qi Bailu glanced at the contact on the screen; the call was to Lin Yuewei. When a "Hello?" came from the other end, Zheng Kunyu gave him a look that clearly meant: *Start explaining.*
On the plane the next day, Qi Bailu sat with Lin Yuewei. She didn't seem to mind Zheng Kunyu’s sudden addition; she was genuinely there for the scenery, not a date, and her only concern was whether Qi Bailu was being put in a difficult position.
A flight attendant pushed a cart by to serve tea and water. Lin Yuewei, sitting in the window seat, leaned over to take her drink. She glanced at Zheng Kunyu, who was sitting not far away, then leaned back and whispered to Qi Bailu, "Did you go soft on him again?"
Qi Bailu held his cup of juice. He wasn't surprised by her question, nor did he immediately deny it. Instead, he asked, "Do you look down on me?"
Lin Yuewei shook her head as she toyed with her cup. "It’s your personal choice. But can you forget the past?"
"I don't know," Qi Bailu murmured, almost to himself. He paused for a long time, his expression momentarily blank. "I haven't forgotten what happened in the past."
His voice gradually grew lower, sounding soft and somber. "When he is good, he seems like a different person. Do you understand what I mean? I look down on myself. I know I..."
*Cannot, should not, must not, am not allowed to—*
*Love. Love him.*
Qi Bailu wanted to say the word, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself to speak it. His love was like a riddle hanging from a lantern during the Lantern Festival—suspended amidst the "fiery trees and silver flowers," high above the weaving crowds. For so many years, not a single person had guessed it, so he had forgotten the answer himself. If love is never mentioned, it gathers layers upon layers of dust.
Lin Yuewei knew what he was struggling with, but she couldn't make the choice for him. Silence stretched between them for half a minute before she looked down and asked, "And what about him?"
Qi Bailu was silent for a moment, then whispered with a hint of resentment, "He’s a bastard."
After saying it, however, Qi Bailu felt a slight sense of relief. He knew how bad Zheng Kunyu was; he remembered every single thing the man had done to hurt him. The heartache was real, the hatred was real, and the intimate moments were real too. Was that much affection—even just a tiny bit—born from those half-real, half-fake kisses?
Lin Yuewei didn't know how to comment. Because they were talking about Zheng Kunyu, her eyes instinctively flickered toward the man in question. "He’s looking at you," she noted.
*Looking! What use is just looking?* Qi Bailu turned his head to look behind him. His gaze sought out Zheng Kunyu, who was holding a glass of wine. At that sight, Qi Bailu froze for a moment. He saw a ring on Zheng Kunyu’s finger. They had woken up late and left in such a rush this morning that he hadn't noticed it.
So what was the use of just looking? Shifting his gaze upward, he saw Zheng Kunyu still wore that inscrutable expression, as if to say: *My looking at you has nothing to do with you.*
Qi Bailu turned back. "Let him look." He wasn't going to switch seats to sit with him, and Lin Yuewei wasn't going to give hers up.
This time, Zheng Kunyu was quite well-behaved; he didn't demand a seat change. Before Qi Bailu fell asleep, he could feel that gaze wrapping around the back of his head, soaking into his dreams like honey.
Looking might be the most useless of gestures, but Qi Bailu still tasted something in that simple "look"—a sense of gazing longingly, of waiting through the autumn waters. Knowing that someone had looked at him for so long felt as if his lantern riddle had been plucked down by a pair of hands. Those hands brushed away the thick dust on the surface, revealing the answer beneath in ink as fresh as new.
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
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望穿秋水 | Gazing longingly / Waiting through the autumn waters | An idiom meaning to wait or gaze with great expectation or longing.
望梅止渴 | Quenching thirst by thinking of plums | An idiom meaning to console oneself with illusions.
指桑骂槐 | Pointing at the mulberry to curse the locust | An idiom for making oblique accusations or veiled attacks.
火树银花 | Fiery trees and silver flowers | A metaphor for brilliant lanterns or fireworks, often associated with the Lantern Festival.
