It fell from his fingertips

When Tang Luoqing got home, Naitang jumped off the sofa and rubbed against her ankles. She bent down, patted the little guy's head, poured Naitang some cat food, changed the water, and then went to the bathroom to take a bath.

Hot water poured over her body, and Tang Luoqing closed her eyes, her thoughts wandering.

After taking a shower, she dried her hair and went back to her bedroom. Lying on the bed, she stared at the ceiling, repeatedly thinking about where Zhou Yanchen would be this Sunday.

The phone rang at that moment; it was Zhou Yanchen.

Tang Luoqing hesitated for a moment before answering the phone.

"How are you today? Do you still have a fever?"

Zhou Yanchen's voice came through the receiver, carrying genuine concern: "Have you taken your medicine? Be sure to take your temperature frequently."

Hearing the familiar words of concern, Tang Luoqing felt a mix of emotions.

A moment later, she casually replied, "I ate, and I feel much better."

"That's good."

Zhou Yanchen then added, "Drink more water these next few days, don't stay up late to finish your manuscript, and eat on time. My project is particularly busy lately, but I'll come back to be with you after this period and cook your favorite dishes for you."

"Baby, I'll get back to work now. You should rest early and don't catch a cold."

"it is good."

Goodnight, baby.

"Good night."

After hanging up the phone, Tang Luoqing placed it on the bedside table, and the room fell silent again, with only the occasional rustling of leaves in the wind coming from outside the window.

She turned her head and looked out the window.

The night sky was clear, and a full moon hung high in the sky, so bright it was almost dazzling.

Tang Luoqing suddenly remembered a time when she was a child, a full moon night like this, with her father and mother, and her grandmother, lying on two double recliners.

The father and mother were sitting sideways, with the father's arm around the mother. They were talking softly, shoulder to shoulder. After a few words, the mother smiled with her lips pursed and the corners of her eyes curving.

Grandma held little Tang Luoqing in her arms, slowly waving a palm-leaf fan, pointing to the stars in the sky, and counting them for her one by one.

She was little then and thought the moon was round, the stars were bright, her father loved her mother, her mother was gentle, and her grandmother would always hold her like that.

Tang Luoqing believed that the world was like this: if two people liked each other, they would stay together forever.

Like Dad and Mom.

Later, the mother suffered a difficult childbirth on a stormy night, resulting in severe bleeding, and she and her unborn child could not be saved.

It was raining heavily that day, the rain pounding against the window sounding like someone was crying outside. When the nurse wheeled Dad out of the delivery room, he was soaked, I couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears.

After that, Dad never shed another tear. He calmly handled Mom's funeral arrangements, making them meticulous and thoughtful. Those who came to pay their respects said that Dad was a tough guy who could hold his own.

Grandma remained silent, holding little Tang Luoqing in her arms, watching her son's busy figure with unspeakable heartache in her eyes.

After that, Dad started working day and night to earn money, working on construction sites during the day and driving a taxi at night, his hands developing calluses layer upon layer.

Grandma was heartbroken.

Several years passed like this, and finally, her father saved enough money to support her and her grandmother for the next ten years or so. Then, on a night of the same torrential rain, at the same time that her mother lost her life, her father swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills.

On Dad's bedside table was a note: "I've gone to stay with your mom. She'll be scared over there all alone."

The neighbors all said that the father was irresponsible, that he didn't deserve to be a father, that he abandoned his young daughter and left, and that he didn't deserve to be a son, causing an old man to bury his young daughter.

Only his grandmother didn't blame him.

Grandma pressed the note to her chest, her dry eyes unable to shed a tear. She spoke in a hoarse voice to little Tang Luoqing, "If your father continues to force himself to live, that's irresponsible of him. It's not that he doesn't want to live, it's that he simply can't go on. He's afraid your mother will be lonely over there, afraid she'll be bullied, so he has to go find her. He's tried his best to hold on, but he can't hold on any longer. Don't blame him."

She was still young then, crying while clinging to her grandmother's arm. She didn't understand what "can't hold on" meant. All she knew was that when she woke up, her mother was gone, and when she woke up again, her father was gone too. Only she and her grandmother were left to guard the empty courtyard.

The cherry blossom tree is still there, the moon is still there, the stars are still there, but her parents don't want her anymore.

Later, when Tang Luoqing grew up, she finally understood.

It's not that her father didn't want to be there for her as she grew up; it's that he couldn't accept life without her mother, so he was willing to give up everything to be with her.

That's not irresponsible; it's that when love reaches its extreme, life itself becomes an unbearable weight.

Tang Luoqing brushed her fingertips against the corner of her eye, her fingertips getting a little damp.

Therefore, there really are people who value love more than life itself.

So how does Zhou Yanchen treat her?

Tang Luoqing recalled Zhou Yanchen when he was pursuing her. He would squat at the entrance of the art studio and wait for her for an entire afternoon. When her grandmother was hospitalized, he would put down everything he was doing and curl up on a hard chair in the hospital corridor for eleven days and nights. He would carefully look at all her illustrations and tell her the little thoughts hidden in each painting.

At that time, she thought that he, like her father, was someone who would treat love as a faith.

So she forgave him time and time again; she didn't want to lose the man who had loved her so much.

But now...

Tang Luoqing turned over and buried her face in the pillow.

·

The next day was Saturday, and Tang Luoqing woke up very late.

I barely slept last night. I had many dreams, but I couldn't remember any of them when I woke up. I just felt extremely dizzy.

Tang Luoqing stayed at home all day and didn't go out.

The easel was set up by the window, but the paper was empty. She sat there for a long time, holding the brush, but couldn't draw anything.

She didn't know what she was thinking, nor did she know what she should be thinking.

But Tang Luoqing knew that she was waiting.

She was waiting for an answer, for an ending, for a result she had already foreseen but dared not face.

Another Sunday passed, and it was Su Leqi's birthday.

Tang Luoqing woke up early in the morning and sat on the edge of the bed for a full minute before realizing what day it was.

She was distracted while feeding the cat, and half a bowl of cat food spilled on the floor. But Milk Candy didn't seem to mind, happily eating the cat food one piece at a time.

Time ticked by until nightfall, the sky darkened, carrying the oppressive feeling of an impending rainstorm, and even the air felt heavy.

Tang Luoqing poured cat food for Naitang, changed its water, squatted down and stroked its head: "Naitang, I'm going out for a bit, I'll be back later."

Milk Candy meowed and rubbed against Tang Luoqing's palm.

A few minutes later, she stood up, grabbed her umbrella, and went out.

It was raining and difficult to get a taxi, so Tang Luoqing took a bus to the city center, then hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address of the bar she had found on her phone.

The driver glanced at Tang Luoqing in the rearview mirror, probably thinking that the girl looked too pale, but he didn't say anything and silently started the car.

A dozen minutes later, the music and noise from the bar came through the door, making people's eardrums hurt. Tang Luoqing went in, and soon came out again, continuing to ask the driver to take her to the next bar.

After entering seven bars in a row, Tang Luoqing stood by the roadside and, through the floor-to-ceiling windows, finally saw Zhou Yanchen sitting by the window in the bar.

At that moment, the music in the bar was so loud it made people's chests tingle.

Zhou Yan sat at the innermost part, the top two buttons of his shirt collar undone, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his face flushed slightly from being slightly tipsy.

He casually draped one arm over the back of the chair behind Su Leqi, while holding a wine glass in his other hand.

Old Chen sat across from us, excitedly recounting the embarrassing incident of a childhood friend who had crashed into the bushes with his bike during a mountain run, making everyone at the table laugh uproariously.

"Young Master Zhou, you said we wouldn't leave until we were drunk! Where's this 'fish-raising' drink you're drinking?"

Su Leqi turned to the side, tapped Zhou Yanchen's wine glass with her finger, and teased him with a smile.

Zhou Yanchen glanced down at his glass, which was still more than half full, picked up the glass, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

He then chuckled and lazily raised his chin at Su Leqi: "Happy birthday, the drinks are on me tonight."

"Wow, Zhou Shao is awesome!"

Su Leqi looked at his decisive and efficient manner, and something lit up in her eyes.

She picked up her wine glass and took a big gulp. When she put the glass down, the back of her hand touched Zhou Yanchen's hand, which was resting on the back of the chair. Seeing that he didn't dodge, she leaned against him gently, her shoulder against his, her eyes filled with undisguised joy.

Zhou Yanchen felt the weight on his shoulder, glanced down at Su Leqi, and smiled casually, "What's wrong? Had too much to drink?"

Su Leqi shook her head.

She knew he had a girlfriend and that he was serious about Tang Luoqing, because Zhou Yanchen was different from those girls he had dated before.

She knew she shouldn't be so close tonight, but she couldn't control herself.

She had tried to let go; last year she spent three months in Northern Europe, but under the aurora borealis, she still couldn't stop thinking about Zhou Yanchen's face.

She buried her face in his shoulder a little: "Zhou Yanchen, don't you think people are pretty perverted?"

Zhou Yanchen didn't hear clearly: "Huh?"

Su Leqi smelled the familiar scent of alcohol mixed with the smell of Zhou Yanchen, looked up at the profile of the man so close to her, her heart raced, and she suddenly wanted to kiss him.

But soon, Su Leqi stepped back, picked up her wine glass again, and smiled at Zhou Yanchen: "I said, happy birthday, no, happy birthday to me, where's my present?"

Zhou Yanchen was amused by Su Leqi and readily agreed, "I'll give you a car tomorrow, okay?"

The group started making noise again. Old Chen slammed his hand on the table and said, "Young Master Zhou, you can't be biased. We want some too!" Su Leqi leaned back in her chair and gently swirled her wine glass.

Half an hour later, a group of people staggered out of the bar.

The rain was still falling. Zhou Yanchen half-supported, half-embraced Su Leqi's waist and said to her, "You've had too much to drink. Don't drive yourself."

Su Leqi nodded obediently.

Old Chen chimed in from the side, "Young Master Zhou, you can't prioritize a woman over your friends, what am I supposed to do?"

Zhou Yan didn't turn around, his head down, his tone casual yet irritating: "Just take a taxi, I'm not your boyfriend."

A group of people laughed, their voices broken by the heavy rain, and someone even whistled.

The driver had already pulled the car to the side of the road. Zhou Yanchen opened the back door, let Su Leqi get in first, and then got in himself.

Tang Luoqing was standing across the street when she saw this scene, and the umbrella in her hand fell to the ground with a thud.

The torrential rain quickly soaked her hair and clothes. The icy touch seeped into her skin, causing a slight ache in her heart, and tears fell uncontrollably.

At the same time, it felt as if something had finally settled in her heart, a heavy weight that made it hard for her to breathe.

The next moment, a large umbrella was placed overhead, shielding us from all the wind and rain.

Tang Luoqing looked up in a daze and met a pair of deep eyes.

It's Zhou Jinbai.

The man's brows furrowed, his dark eyes fixed on her shivering, rain-soaked shoulders, his gaze churning with unreadable emotions.

He raised his hand and wrapped the girl in front of him with the blanket that Tian Tiao seemed to have grabbed in a hurry, and gently wiped away Tang Luoqing's tears with his warm fingertips.

"Don't cry."

The man's prominent Adam's apple bobbed forcefully, and his voice was low and hoarse, as if squeezed out little by little from his chest: "I'll go talk to him."

"Now, let me take you home first."