“You’ve arrived with your motorcycle again?” Lin Zhou asked with a brightened face upon seeing Zhang Jing walk into his bar.
Zhang Jing cautiously handed over his helmet and requested, “Put this somewhere safe, please.”
Lin Zhou, feeling indolent, resorted to responding with “Sh*t!”
“What happened these days? Why are you so pale?” Lin Zhou plucked a damp dishcloth out of the bartender’s hand and wiped off the random patches of dust on Zhang Jing’s precious helmet.
Zhang Jing nudged his own cheeks, his words seeming to estimate something, “Everyone has been asking me that same question. I’m fine? Nothing really happened. I’ve been eating well, sleeping well, and sleeping well.”
A chuckle slipped out of Lin Zhou, and he didn’t bother suppressing his laughter any further. “I know you well enough to know that the last one is definitely untrue.”
Zhang Jing shrugged his shoulders as if the matter didn’t affect him, moved to a random seat, and quietly waited for Doggo and Lincoln to show up. For once, Lincoln was on the receiving end of a break-up. Over the past few days, Lincoln and his girlfriend were at heads about trivial issues until both their patience sapped out—she then proposed a break-up. Hence, Lincoln requested a drinking party consisting of just the three of them. Well, only two people would actually participate since Zhang Jing wasn’t keen on drinking for the night.
Zhang Jing initially offered to pick up Doggo from his office, but Doggo insisted otherwise. Even so, he arrived surprisingly earlier than Lincoln. As soon as he spotted Zhang Jing, he commanded, “Jingjing, d- don’t drink alcohol today.”
Zhang Jing obediently nodded, “Yes, grandma.”
Hearing his affirmation, Doggo ceased his solemn tone and greeted Lin Zhou with their unique handshake.
Lin Zhou threw a confused glance at Zhang Jing and wondered, “What happened to you? You can’t drink?”
Zhang Jing responded without any hint of emotion in his voice, “It’s nothing big. It’s just that I took medications for my toothache.”
To this, Lin Zhou laughed at him, “So you’re just a bystander tonight?”
When Lin Zhou finished polishing his helmet until squeaky clean, he carefully passed it to the bartender, who then placed it in the cleanest available cabinet. Last time, the bartender haphazardly threw the helmet into an unrecognizable pile of other customers’ belongings, but his boss specifically ordered to reposition that one helmet. He shot a few quick glances at Zhang Jing to fathom who this crucial person was; he then remembered Zhang Jing, the insanely attractive guy from a while ago.
Soon after, Lincoln showed up, displaying no hints of sorrow. Instead, his entire soul seemed to be lifted off a high burden and rejuvenated, as he unnervingly waltzed around them and openly expressed such lively emotions. He asked, “Now that I’m free, is there any unoccupied corner in your guys’ place for me to live in?”
“My apartment has one bedroom and one living room. Doggo and I are sharing the bedroom; if you want, you can have the living room?” Zhang Jing offered.
Doggo hurriedly nodded, “I agree. You can have the living room and sleep on the sofa whenever you want. As for the bed, there’s definitely n- no space for you.”
Lincoln sighed and waved his hand in dismissal, “Nevermind, then. I’m not used to sleeping on sofas.”
“Well then, i- if that’s the case, don’t go out saying we’re b- bad for excluding you. You’re the one who rejected our offer.”
Throughout that party, Zhang Jing had not a sip of alcohol. He was painfully aware about his declining and worrisome health, so he blocked all manifestations of smoking and alcohol. However, sometimes when he remembered that single person, his hand would uncontrollably and desperately search for a cigarette to silence the mind.
Lincoln and Doggo didn’t drink much either: Doggo only came to assist Lincoln in forgetting his supposedly doleful break-up, but Lincoln in turn had nothing to complain and cry about.
When the clock struck eleven, Lin Zhou peeked at Zhang Jing’s table and double-checked, “If you’re not drunk this time, I’m gonna head home now?”
Zhang Jing reassured him, “I promised not to drink tonight. You can go home.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Lin Zhou flicked Zhang Jing’s forehead and started a tiff, “Call me ‘father’ the next time you see me. Every damn time you’re drunk, I have to look after you.”
Itjcu Alcu qblcafv tlr wlvvif olcufg ja tlw ab lwqilmlais rjs, “Rfnfg.”
Cr Olc Itbe kjixfv jkjs, Olcmbic mbwwfcafv, “Qtja j gfijzlcu pby.”
Gbuub jvvfv, “Tbe’gf pf… pfjiber? Ktfc ub ilnf j rlwlijg ilof!”
Olcmbic: “P’w cba pf… pfjiber.”
Gbuub ujnf tlw j ybwyjralm rlvf fsf. “Vabq w- wlwlmxlcu wf.”
Lincoln: “I’m n- not.”
Zhang Jing, amused by their kindergarten-level bickering, played with grapes as he threw them in the air one after another. Lincoln glanced at the time and confirmed, “Okay, I’m gonna head home now and sleep. You two should go home too. Drive safely.”
Doggo argued, “Riding slowly is so unsatisfying. I just love the thrill of an adrenaline r- rush.”
“Okay, then. Hurry up and experience your adrenaline r- rush.”
Doggo: “… So mean.”
Zhang Jing laughed so hard he was panting for breath. Up to when Lincoln called a taxi and left the bar, seeing Doggo’s lone figure spurred on his laughter. Doggo aggressively slapped Zhang Jing’s back a few times and gently said, “Jingjing, even if you love laughing at others, remember to take some breathes in between. I hope you don’t suffocate from the lack of oxygen! It’s been so long since he left, yet you’re still laughing.”
On the ride home, Zhang Jing felt his phone vibrating in his pockets. His heart plummeted—he had a strong premonition: that call was from Ji Dongxun.
The minute he parked, he swiftly pulled out his phone. That confirmed his suspicions.
He didn’t save that phone number, yet all the digits were already imprinted in his heart.
Humming an upbeat melody, Doggo walked into the shower, leaving Zhang Jing alone in the living room. Zhang Jing sat on the sofa, still so silently staring at his phone. He wondered whether, in the deepest trenches of his heart, did he want the phone to ring, or if he was afraid of the same number calling again.
At last, his phone vibrated, just after Zhang Jing finished a shower and was on the verge of turning off the ceiling lights.
He clicked the green “Accept” button, waiting for the familiar yet distant voice to sound.
As expected, Ji Dongxun’s hoarse voice rang through his ear, providing a sense of belonging and peace in spite of everything. He leaned against the sofa, looked at the clock—it was midnight—and meekly relaxed to Ji Dongxun’s voice, “Were you sleeping?”
Zhang Jing plainly responded, “No. Why?”
Ji Dongxun let out a quiet sigh and replied, “Nothing. Why didn’t you pick up my previous call?”
Zhang Jing adjusted the position of his phone so that his voice resounded with greater clarity. However, when he spoke, he intentionally cloaked his excitement under a veil of indifference and spoke. “I was on the road. Do you need something?”
“Nothing,” Ji Dongxun chuckled. “I wanted to call you, just to make sure you’re awake.”
Zhang Jing didn’t know how to respond, so he just remained silent.
Suddenly, the smile vanished from Ji Donxun’s voice, and he continued with an outrageously serious voice. “I just miss you so much.”
I just miss you so much.
Zhang Jing’s hand nearly crushed his phone—ever since Ji Dongxun returned, this was the first time he said anything as forthright. Be it during their meal or over call, it was never that explicit.
Zhang Jing’s chest began to thump, each hit full of pain.
The exact same pang persisted throughout the night; even when he opened his eyes the next morning, breathing was laborious.
Ji Dongxun said: I just miss you so much.
As Zhang Jing brushed his teeth and looked at himself in the mirror, he really wanted to ask: all those nights where I missed you so much that my entire body ached and my brain hallucinated—Ji Dongxun, where could I call? Who could I even call?
Since they accepted a large amount of commissions this month, everyone worked overtime whenever possible. At times like this, Zhang Jing was unfortunately occupied as well, since everything non-design related were his responsibility. However, he already convened with all his current clients, so both sides were able to address their concerns without any hesitation or sugarcoating.
One day, Bai Qi sent a new design proposal to him and said, “Take a look at your inbox; I already sent you the newest design. You can either email this to them or deliver a physical copy. If they’re satisfied, I’ll fax it to the production team.”
Zhang Jing scrolled through the document—it was the project with Ji Dongxun. Out of shock, he immediately blurted out, “How about… you go this time?”
Bai Qi didn’t comprehend his reasoning. “Why?”
Zhang Jing put his chin on the table and hid his face inside his arms. “I don’t want to go. I don’t like that company.”
Bai Qi consolingly patted his head and persuaded, “Come on. If you don’t want to go, then fax it to them. Email works too. If I spend time communicating with them, are you going to work on the designs then?”
Zhang Jing quickly formulated another excuse, “I didn’t ask for their email, so can you give someone else this job?”
Bai Qi moved Zhang Jing’s head out of his arms, and manually turned his head in a semicircle. “Look around, do you see anyone with spare time? If you do, kindly call out their names.”
Out of the ten to fifteen people in the studio, he didn’t see anyone raise their head. Everyone’s to-do list was so long that even drinking water was deemed a waste of time. Zhang Jing commented, “I think we need to hire more people.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Then sure, you can deal with that as well.”
Zhang Jing’s leg began to involuntarily shake. He felt weak at the knees just from interacting with Ji Dongxun; he really couldn’t suppress his instincts in front of the man. And he, Zhang Jing, absolutely detested having no sense of control over his behavior and emotions.
In the afternoon, Zhang Jing called them. The person who picked up the call sounded vaguely familiar, and Zhang Jing realized that he was probably Ji Dongxun’s assistant. The caller seemed to be about forty years old, with a monotonous voice that reflected the harsh vicissitudes of life.
He asked him for the company’s email so that he could simply email them the document.
That person said they didn’t have an email.
That response made Zhang Jing speechless. “No email… How about QQ? That works too.”
“Sorry, we don’t have QQ either.”
“…” He couldn’t believe his ears. “So what you’re saying is, in a company as large as yours, not a single person has a work-related email.”
“I apologize, but we really don’t.”
Zhang Jing was so astonished he wanted to laugh. “Okay, then. When are you guys available? I will deliver it to you in person.”
“Noted, Mr. Zhang. Does four o’clock this afternoon work for you? Any time after four works for us as well.”
Zhang Jing: “Sure, I’ll be there at five o’clock.”
“Alright.”
Zhang Jing ended the call and massaged the tired out his eyes to conceal his frustration.
Since Ji Dongxun’s assistant clarified that he could arrive “any time after four,” he headed straight towards their company after getting off work. That way, he could drive home as soon as he delivered the documents. When he arrived at the foot of their building, he was well aware that Ji Dongxun’s office was on Floor 16 and thus didn’t approach the front desk for assistance.
His plan was to wait near the elevator until he saw the assistant, and to scurry away after stuffing the documents in his arms. The assistant was the one who answered the call, not Ji Dongxun, so he had no responsibility to meet head-on with the latter. However, when the elevator door slowly parted, he did not expect to see Ji Dongxun’s face first.
Zhang Jing froze there stupidly for a whole minute before Ji Dongxun began, “Please wait in my office for a few minutes. I need to head downstairs for a brief moment.”
“Here you go, take this with you downstairs.” Zhang Jing handed over the USB flash drive and continued, “Feel free to contact us regarding any concerns. If all looks good, give us a call, and we’ll begin the production process.”
Before responding, Ji Dongxun leaned backwards to order his assistant, Chen Wei. “Wei, please go and welcome the client downstairs.”
Chen Wei bowed, “Of course, Mr. Ji.”
Ji Dongxun shifted back his focus on Zhang Jing. “Come follow me this way.”
Zhang Jing had no choice but to follow him into his office. Ji Dongxun, without a care in the world, hurled the USB flash drive at the table and said with a serious tone, “Why are you avoiding me?”
Zhang Jing tried his best to stop the emotions leaking into his voice when he responded. “I’m not. I have nothing to hide. Mr. Ji, please take a look at our design plan so that I can head home soon.”
Ji Dongxun took a long stride, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him close—their faces now only ten centimeters apart. Zhang Jing’s entire brain short-circuited, yet he still put on an air of indifference.
Ji Dongxun asked, “Are you nervous?”
Zhang Jing lifted his eyebrow out of disdain. “Why would I.”
Ji Dongxun put on a smug smirk and chuckled, “Your pulse is quite rapid, and I can feel it clearly. You know?”
He is not nervous but I am! These two give me shivers I could feel the zoo in my stomach. I just love them. Please be together soon 😩
Thank you for your wonderful translation as always. May you have a great week ahead 💕
Like we said, stop the push and pull and just get back together aghhh. I seriously wanna know what happened that led to them actually losing contact with one another and drifting apart. Like LDR exists for a reason yknow 😩