CH 2.3

The nature of the situation was basically cemented with those words.

Chu Jian knew clearly that no matter what further explanations she gave, they would all be useless.

Chu Jian was not certain the reason, but she felt that, since his return from Macau, more and more, there seemed to be something not right with Jian Bianlin. Those established boundaries in their relationship that, all these years, the two of them had never overstepped had now all been crossed by him. Making up an excuse, she left Jian Bianlin outside the door to deal with Teacher Li while she wordlessly stepped inside. Amid the chatting voices of the shipyard’s managers and all her elders, she stood by the window, her head lowered, playing around on her mobile phone.

Forget it. She was not going to let him bother her. Uncle Jian still had to go for surgery.

Before long, Jian Bianlin followed after and came inside, standing beside her for quite some time but not knowing what he should say to her.

He pulled out his mobile phone. Stickied at the top of his WeChat[1] [messaging app] screen was Chu Jian’s little profile picture.

In these twenty-plus years, the one thing he could not let go of was the little lady who he believed belonged to him.

He had known that Chu Jian did not like him in that way, yet he was the one who still allowed their entire grade to mistakenly believe that they were dating while underage; he was the one who had kissed her on that ferry against her will; and also, that winter… Up until a moment ago, he had still held onto a wishful fancy where he hoped to make her tacitly admit that they had once been a couple.

And even now, he was confident also that she would not get angry with him during this time when his father’s health was unwell.

All of this selfish “confidence” caused him to remember his agent, Xie Bin’s words.

“Just let it be, Jian Bianlin.” That night, he and Xie Bin were having drinks. While the two of them were taking in some fresh air out on the balcony, even Xie Bin, despite being a man, had started to look at things from Chu Jian’s standpoint and tried to persuade him. “You’ve just been taking advantage of the close relationship between your two families and, since she was little, snuffed out any possible romance she might have. The girl is twenty-six already, but she hasn’t even properly dated anyone yet. When it comes down to it, it’s just because the girl was unlucky enough to have been neighbours with you since you were kids, yeah?”

Xie Bin was right—to be loved by him was pretty rotten luck.

Chu Jian was communicating with a young assistant in her company about the schedule of the Japanese instructor who was coming to teach some classes and, while she was at it, also asking some questions regarding their booth at an exhibition when a WeChat message from Jian Bianlin popped up:

Sorry.

After contemplating briefly, she did not reply.

She had not expected that this word would become the last dialogue they would exchange for the entire remainder of the daytime.

At night, Jian Bianlin stayed in the VIP hospital room to take care of his father while Chu Jian and her parents returned to their home in Hangzhou.

Her mom, in passing, also took the key to the Jians’ home and went in to gather some things for them. They had been relatively rushed to head to the hospital and had not had the chance to pack any items that Jian Bianlin’s father would need for a hospital stay. After helping her mother pack for a little while, Chu Jian brought in the laundry that had been hanging out on the balcony, folded it, and set it on the bed in the master bedroom.

She discovered a photograph placed near the head of the bed. It was a picture of Chu Jian and Jian Bianlin together, taken around the time of their graduation from high school.

The two people inside that picture were wearing school uniforms. That was the day they had received the letters of acceptance from their universities, and in front of the school, Jian Bianlin’s dad had requested that they take a photograph together standing by the main entrance.

Blue school uniforms, very characteristically Chinese. As Chu Jian stood beside him, the top of her head barely came to his shoulders. His eyes were dark and bright, and on his nose was a pair of rimless glasses. Chu Jian, her eyes large and her nose petite, was smiling, revealing a crooked little canine tooth, and her black hair was short with blunt-cut bangs.

Because his dad had requested it, Jian Bianlin was even hugging her shoulders.

She could still remember, back then, in that high school key class, his grades had been especially good. He had not liked talking to people, and so, with his glasses, the girls in the other classes had always described him as Class No. 1’s “cultured scoundrel.” Why was there the word “scoundrel” in there? She truly had been curious and had privately asked people about it. The answer: purely because he was too good-looking, to the point that he did not look like a good person…

“Why are you staring into space?” Carrying a bag stuffed full with Jian Bianlin’s dad’s clean clothing and toiletries, Chu Jian’s mother stepped into the room. When she saw the photograph, she smiled. “Your dad printed this picture for him and deliberately bought a frame to put it here. The two of you were so close when you were young. It’s too bad you guys weren’t in university together; otherwise, you might have been even closer.”

Uttering an “mm,” Chu Jian turned and walked out the room.

The surgery was originally scheduled for the next day, but at three o’clock in the morning, Chu Jian was suddenly roused and told that Jian Bianlin’s dad was not doing good and they needed to hurry to the hospital. She felt around for some clothes, slipped them on, and then went with her parents straight to the hospital. With hair that was completely mussed, she jogged up to the operating room.

Jian Bianlin’s father had already gone inside and was undergoing surgery, so they could only wait outside.

Outside of the operating room, Jian Bianlin sat alone. For fear that he would attract spectators even during such a time, he was not wearing that eye-catching, black face mask and, instead, had pulled up the hood of his hoodie, concealing more than half his face.

Chu Jian stepped up to him. Hesitating for a few seconds, she bent down and asked softly, “You haven’t slept this whole time? Are you hungry?”

This was the first dialogue between the two of them since he had said that one “sorry.”

Raising his eyes, Jian Bianlin took in the sight of Chu Jian with a track jacket thrown over her pajamas. After a little while, he said in a low voice, “Let me hold you.”

Chu Jian was stunned. He took hold of her wrist and pulled her in front of him, her right shoulder crashing heavily into his forehead. From her waist and over her entire back, his arms enveloped her—tightly—so that she could not move at all. Those arms were squeezing her so forcefully she was somewhat unable to breathe. But she did not have the heart to push him away at this time…

The corridor felt deserted. There were not many people in it.

Her mom and dad were sitting, talking in low tones, and when they looked up and saw this scene, they both paused. Then Chu Jian received a look from her mother, silently telling her to console Jian Bianlin. After all, he had moved north with his dad when he was a child, from Guangdong to Hangzhou, and his father had been the one who raised him. To be in this situation now was really difficult for him and deserved empathy.

Chu Jian could sense his anxiety. Very heavy and intense.

She stretched out her arms and slid them gently around his shoulders, softly comforting, “It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right.” This was actually the first time in all these years that she had assumed the role of “comforting and protecting” him, and she felt somewhat… at a loss over what she should do. Because she was so close to him, her nose was filled with his scent, and this intensified that feeling of not knowing what to do. But she could not push him away. Right now, she definitely could not push him away.

Eventually, it was Jian Bianlin who first released her. “Sorry.”

“Sorry” again.

Chu Jian was a little dazed, uncertain whether she should continue to comfort him or do something. In the end, she made up an excuse for herself—to go buy some late-night snacks— and at last went downstairs. Truly feeling flustered, she sent a WeChat message to Tong Fei:

Are you asleep?

At this time of night, the one who was most likely to still be awake was that model worker of a talent agent.

Very soon, Tong Fei replied with a voice message: “Nope. I’m keeping my artiste company while she films some night scenes. Why are you up in the middle of the night? You’ve been sexually assaulted?”

Chu Jian: “… Jian Bianlin’s dad’s condition suddenly turned for the worse. I don’t know how I should comfort him.”

Tong Fei: “Use your body, eh.”

Chu Jian: “……”

Tong Fei carried on, tossing back another voice message that was filled with lament. “Oh, such a poor thing, he is. I had planned on waiting until you got back before I told you. When Xie Bin and I were discussing the details of the contract today, he mentioned that the results from Jian Bianlin’s medical exam report weren’t good, and once he gets back, he needs to go for surgery. Seriously, it’s just one thing after another. Go and give him some comfort. Even if there’s no love of the romantic type, you still have a full twenty-two years of friendship with him.”

He needs to go for surgery? Chu Jian thought she had heard wrong and hurriedly re-listened to the message.

Two ambulances were parked outside the door of the hospital building, and several hospital employees were standing there chatting. Before long, another ambulance pulled in. Chu Jian stood there in the blue glow of the ambulance lights, her mind utterly blank, until someone called to her to hurry and get out of the way. Only then did she hastily take two steps backward, bumping into the wall.

Seeing that she had not sent back a reply, Tong Fei continued adding to what she had said. “Originally, they hadn’t even intended on telling me. It was just because I was signing a contract with them and needed to confirm the project timeframe for our actor and screenwriter. Filming was originally supposed to start at the beginning of next year, but they said we needed to wait on Jian Bianlin’s schedule. Afterward, though, it was only because Xie Bin views me as one of his inner circle that he told me the truth. As for what the actual problem is, I don’t know either. Maybe it’s just a minor surgery.”

After listening to the message, Chu Jian’s heart still felt anxious, like it was hanging by a thread.

Tong Fei tossed another voice message over. “No, that can’t be right. He said Jian Bianlin will need to rest for at least three or four months. That shouldn’t be a minor surgery, then, right?”

Chu Jian could only feel that her arms were limp, and she was nearly unable to hold her mobile phone.

No wonder she had felt this whole time that something was not right with him…

He had not said anything, not to anyone. And now, because of this incident with his dad, he even more so could not say anything.

Chu Jian’s heart felt as if it was in a chaotic mess. She circled the hospital building several times, walking from lit areas to shadowy sections. After repeating this several times, she finally headed back upstairs.

This time, she did not avoid him and, instead, directly went and took a seat beside him. Since the chairs were all attached, his seat beneath him also vibrated when she sat down. That man who had been sitting with eyes closed, forcing himself to maintain a settled heart and mind, now opened his eyes.

“There’s nothing to eat downstairs,” she said softly.

He did not answer.

“Is there something you haven’t told me?” Chu Jian’s voice grew even lighter.

Beneath that somewhat stark lighting, Jian Bianlin gazed at her.

Chu Jian felt that it was necessary to ask and be clear on things. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“No,” he stated in a flat tone. “There’s nothing I want to tell you.”

[1]微信 “Weixin.” Literally meaning ‘micro-message.’ A text and voice messaging app. Besides text messaging, there is hold-to-talk voice messaging, social networking, group broadcast messaging, etc. Its English name is WeChat. http://www.wechat.com.