Zhang Jing’s instincts implored him to brush off Ji Dongxun’s hand, but his body refused to do so. This was why he disliked interacting with Ji Dongxun—such subconscious feelings that spontaneously emerged upon meeting Ji Dongxun made him feel like a failure.
It’s almost as if Ji Dongxun planted a poisonous insect inside his body.
“Oh, really? Perhaps I’ve been lacking quality sleep, so my heartbeat feels irregular.” Zhang Jing looked away and quickly formulated an excuse.
Then, Ji Dongxun fell silent and stared directly at him. Zhang Jing was too alarmed to maintain eye contact; he just couldn’t understand the emotion in Ji Dongxun’s eyes, and was reluctant to overanalyze those same emotions.
Zhang Jing demanded, “Ji Dongxun, what are you trying to accomplish by doing this?”
“I don’t even know.” Bitterness diffused throughout Ji Dongxun’s smile. “Sometimes, I desperately want to snatch you away from your current boyfriend, but I know that it isn’t right. Maybe I just want to continuously appear before you and pester you until you return back to my side.”
Ji Dongxun extended his arms, pulling Zhang Jing close. His chin rested on Zhang Jing’s collarbones, and his lips discreetly whispered right next to his ears, “Sometimes, I just want to hug you like this and heal my soul.”
In Zhang Jing’s perspective, this was an actual hug. He stood demurely in Ji Dongxun’s arms and sniffed at the fresh smell from Ji Dongxun’s body—so familiar, so deprived of, so nostalgic. Ji Dongxun unceremoniously tightened his arms and lifted his head to look into Zhang Jing’s eyes. With a desolate yet gentle voice, he spoke. “Jing Baby, I miss you so much.”
Zhang Jing’s eyes began to water, his hands unceasingly trembling. He couldn’t bear Ji Dongxun’s actions, be it that hug or his words. All of these thought-provoking actions pulled him into an endless black hole of overthinking, pain, and stress.
Throughout their years of interaction, he observed that Ji Dongxun has a dominant yet carefree soul, but Ji Dongxun rarely lowered his pride to say something of the same manner. He greedily inhaled a deep breath of Ji Dongxun’s distinct scent while Ji Dongxun waited for an answer. He quickly realized his indulgence and pushed Ji Dongxun away in haste.
With a solemn tone, Zhang Jing responded, “Ji Dongxun, I have my own life now. I don’t have time to play these mind games with you. We never belonged in the same world—not in the past, and certainly not in the future. I don’t know why you’ve suddenly returned within my presence, but I definitely know that flirting with me is a waste of time.”
The warmth in Ji Dongxun’s eyes diminished as he processed Zhang Jing’s words. He still asked, unwilling to give up, “Has your life been going well?”
Zhang Jing nodded heavily. “Very well.”
This was the second time Zhang Jing said that to Ji Dongxun. He couldn’t interpret Ji Dongxun’s emotions, but for himself, every syllable he enunciated pushed a needle deeper and deeper into his tender heart.
Buried in the depths of Zhang Jing’s heart was his fear of Ji Dongxun—mere hints of Ji Dongxun’s existence are dangerous to him. Every time he spoke a word, his first thought was to determine whether he’s talking to the real Ji Dongxun or an imagined version of him. Thus, that same trepidation compelled Zhang Jing to leave the building, mind empty. The last thing he wanted was to lose control over his emotions and expose such vulnerability to Ji Dongxun.
He did not, in a million worlds, want that possibility to occur.
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.
Before Zhang Jing hurried away, Ji Dongxun did grab his wrist and firmly look into his eyes. He asked carefully, “Jing, did you ever regret it?”
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“Ji Dongxun, I don’t regret anything: not in the past, not right now, and never in the future.
“I loved you with the entirety of my heart, and I was full of loud devotion and love—none of which I regret. Even now, I can confidently say that those years were the best years of my life. Any snippet of memory from those years is filled with genuine joy.
“But those experiences have no relation with you whatsoever. Those years of wholesome romance are what I love, not the main character Ji Dongxun.
“The minute our relationship ended, you meant absolutely nothing to me.”
After the needle impaled through his heart, he walked away, more determined than ever.
As he mindlessly floated home, he would occasionally touch his heart. As expected, it felt churned , distorted, and ultimately bloody.
Meanwhile, Ji Dongxun seemed to be frozen in place—waist leaning on the edge of his desk—for an entire hour after Zhang Jingleft.
To distract himself from the dripping blood, Zhang Jing bolted to his house and didn’t bother for a pause until he reached the elevator in his apartment building. Inside the elevator, he drew in a huge lungful of breaths to restore some oxygen and to pacify his racing heart. Ding. He scrambled for his keys as he reached his floor, but he was stunned when the doors slid open.
Ji Dongxun, with his hands in his pockets, stood centimeters away from his apartment’s door. Same clothes, same hairstyle, and the same composed posture.
Seeing Zhang Jing, he questioned, “Why didn’t you pick up my calls?”
Something inside Zhang Jing urged him to fish for his phone. Then, his rationality kicked in, so he bit down on his tongue violently and proficiently.
Ji Dongxun still stood there.
“Why are you just staring at me? I asked a question.” Ji Dongxun tried to hide his frown.
Zhang Jing took out his phone and looked at the screen—no missed calls.
He let out a bitter, derided laugh. “Ji Dongxun, don’t you see? I can’t reciprocate your coquetry. I can’t even bring myself to tell you about my hallucinations. What if I turn myself into a psychopath after talking with you and accepting your flirtations? Aren’t you scared that I might actually kill you one day, out of desperation or craziness?”
No facial expression. “What are you even saying?”
Zhang Jing took slow strides, progressing towards the door. He held Ji Dongxun’s face with both hands. “What I’m saying is, I’m acutely aware that you are fake, yet I’m still talking to you. Do you know what I look like through the security cameras? I’m touching the air; I’m talking to a wooden door. From someone else’s perspective, I am completely a psychopath.”
Zhang Jing pulled the door handle and locked that Ji Dongxun outside. Doggo hadn’t returned yet, so Zhang Jing sank into the sofa, deprived of energy.
He closed his eyes to reject reality; his entire body seemed to be burning. Zhang Jing sighed, mustering his remaining energy, and sluggishly scrolled through his contacts. He hesitated for quite a while as the name “Dr. Zhuo” engraved itself onto his dim screen. At last, he tapped out of his contacts list and turned off his phone.
Zhang Jing preferred not to take medication due to its severe side effects. If he did decide to take medication, he must finish the entire prescription, which usually lasted for months or even years. Additionally, he felt uneasy consulting doctors. He disliked the still ambiance of a hospital, detested psychiatrists even more.
Whether he visits a psychiatrist or a psychologist, the consultation causes him distress rather than aid. Before he listens to their advice, the specific tone they adopt towards mentally-ill patients was enough to make him puke.
After that day, Ji Dongxun disappeared from his life again. Even for their project, he no longer scheduled direct communication with Zhang Jing’s studio. He was nowhere to be found even when they agreed on the final design during the last meeting. The lack of Ji Dongxun in his life erased most of his dread and irrationality, but these were soon replaced by endless waves of emptiness and solitude.
However, he knew that Ji Dongxun was in the same city, still within driving distance. He would often sink into deep thought, assessing Ji Dongxun’s sudden loss of motivation to actively approach him. Was it the hurtful words he said? Or was it because he maybe wasn’t serious about a reunion and just acted out of boredom?
Right, I forgot what type of person Ji Dongxun is. Through all these years, a bunch of people would probably be interested in him.
Zhang Jing laughed, scorning himself for uncontrollably thinking about the same person he pushed away.
Lighting a cigarette, Zhang Jing asked the person with a buzz cut, “Are we going to keep racing? If not, I’m heading home.”
“Let’s wait a bit more.” Youthfulness radiated from the motorcyclist beside him, along with a good sense of arrogance and a childlike bravado.
This time, Zhang Jing raced with a different group. Unlike Zhao Wu’s group, the racers here valued decorum and integrity since most of them were born into wealthy families. Rather than relying on subterfuge, the person with the more advanced motorcycle had an advantage.
Zhang Jing didn’t bother to place high anyways. For him, winning would be nice; however, if he didn’t manage to, he would just wash his hands and walk away without a second thought.
“Oh, Jing. We have a party next week. Wanna join?” The buzz cut prompted.
“I’ll pass. I don’t know your friends, so having fun would be kinda difficult, you know.”
The buzz cut still tried to dismiss Zhang Jing’s excuses, “So what! If we all party together, they’ll become your friends too! Jing, you should comeee. I want to get to know you more.”
Zhang Jing exhaled a ring of smoke. “What type of party?”
“It’ll just be our friends. Eating, drinking, nothing formal.” He replied with puppy dog eyes.
“I can’t drink alcohol nowadays. Even if I go, I wouldn’t be entertaining nor entertained. Maybe next time. You guys have fun.”
He was disappointed, but he knew not to persist.
Zhang Jing met him during one of his competitions. For the entire race, he dished out every means to outride Zhang Jing, yet none of his attempts worked. As expected, he lost to Zhang Jing. Afterwards, he asked for Zhang Jing’s number and occasionally invited him to social events.
From Zhang Jing’s observations, the buzz cut probably didn’t even graduate college. So, whenever they hung out, he imagined himself as a guardian babysitting a confident but immature kid.
Pulling out of the flashback, his mind continued to wander. In this race, he was only a few meters ahead of the buzz cut—a drastic decline compared to last time.
Meanwhile, the little boy grinned from ear to ear, excited to flaunt every possible achievement. “Brother Jing, I finished modifying and refitting my motorcycle yesterday!”
Zhang Jing laughed, “Relying on equipment rather than skill, huh? Is this your best? Hahaha.”
He rashly nodded, hoping to hear more words from Zhang Jing. “Of course! What else can I do! I can’t just allow myself to lose to you every single game! Everyone needs a goal in life, right?”
Zhang Jing tossed a lollipop towards him, “Okay, okay. Here’s a prize.”
He gladly ripped open the wrapping and stuffed it in his mouth. A grin continued on his plump face as he stroked his helmet.
Unable to concentrate the entire day, Zhang Jing ended the conversation on a messy note and left. He purposely chose a long route just so that his path could overlap with Ji Dongxun’s company’s street. As he walked past the entrance, he found himself taking a pause and looking upward.
This was the closest safe distance between him and Zhang Jing, although his office was probably empty on a weekend.
Just a few years ago, he didn’t expect Ji Dongxun to abruptly leave. A few months ago, he also didn’t expect Ji Dongxun to suddenly return.
If this continue I might start to get hallucinations too. So frustrating 😪
Thanks for the chapter 💕
Yap already started having them
Sigh… So complicated.. Can’t they both just sit down and talk it out nice and slow? Was it some kind of misunderstanding that drifted them apart or..? Feel bad for zhang jing having to deal with his hallucinations though. Poor bro have it rough 💔