Unrequited Love 暗恋橘生淮南 Chapter 36.1



Chapter 36.1 - A Bystander’s Youth (1)

That afternoon, she sat at her desk, a few strands of hair on her forehead damp and flat from the rain. Emotions swirled just beneath her skin—anger, grievance, confusion, sadness—ready to surface at any moment, but she paid them no mind. She opened Chandler’s The Long Goodbye and was engrossed until eight in the evening. Then she started on her statistics homework, did the laundry, cleaned her room, turned off the lights, and surprisingly fell asleep quickly—no dreams. The next morning, she woke up fresh and went to morning study.

She often got sentimental and moved by small details, but when real things happened, she remained indifferent. It was as if inside her lived another, stronger Luo Zhi who usually let her control the body and make a mess, but at crucial moments took over without a word, occupying the soul and leaving the sensitive, emotional side on the sidelines.

Whenever she had free time, she studied vocabulary. She had registered for the IELTS exam in mid-December. The whole day she spun like a top.

Reading until eleven-thirty, her eyes ached. After washing up, she lay in bed trying to fall asleep. Maybe because she had drunk too much coffee during the day to stay efficient, she couldn’t fall asleep. She took out her MP3 player to listen to some audio but realized she only had recordings of New Concept English 4—nothing else.

She couldn’t listen to New Concept English 4—it would drive her crazy.

Bai Li hadn’t returned yet. Tossing and turning, her mind wandered, and suddenly she remembered the end of her second year in high school—sitting on the steps, repeatedly listening to the first lesson of New Concept English 4 but not understanding a word. She started laughing, and as she laughed, tears fell uncontrollably.

She got up, washed her face, changed clothes, put on her headphones. It was past midnight; she went out for a walk.

Yesterday—or rather, the day before—the rain had fallen all night, stopping only in the morning. The weather was especially cold. She pulled her neck in and walked toward the southern commercial district. The lights there were still bright, though all shops had closed. Only a few 24-hour restaurants had people loudly chatting and laughing inside. Occasionally, a few pedestrians walked the streets, but more often she saw trash swirling in the wind.

When she reached the Qianye Building, she looked up at a huge advertisement that caught her eye—clear white crystals.

Swarovski.

She suddenly thought of Ye Zhanyan.

Or rather, she had never forgotten Ye Zhanyan for a single moment, even more than Bai Li keeping a photo of Chen Mohan in her wallet.

That woman—subconsciously hidden, never mentioned in front of him, yet left with a little trail for herself to carefully toy with—Sheng Huainan’s ex-girlfriend.

As for why she avoided the topic, she didn’t know. Maybe out of pity for herself, maybe out of calculation.

She couldn’t remember her motives clearly anymore.

Her dark motives slowly merged with their pure disguise, forming a thin layer that covered her body every day. The longer it lasted, the more painful it would be to tear away.

For two years in the same class, she and Ye Zhanyan barely had any interaction. When they met, maybe a greeting, but only when caught off guard; usually a polite smile. Most of the time, she would turn her head to look at portraits of physicists or geography facts on the wall to avoid the greeting—the furious Einstein with his hair standing on end, and the stern-faced Newton who seemed owed a few pounds of apples.

She had no grudge against Ye Zhanyan; this avoidance and coldness weren’t just directed at her. She believed she had gotten along peacefully with most people.

Peaceful coexistence — that phrase already sounds a bit old-fashioned. In the summer of her second year of high school, Eileen Chang’s books were popular in class, and to describe this feeling, it was best said as “a calm present life, a peaceful passage of time”. She had never read Eileen Chang’s books, so when she first heard those eight words, she was slightly shaken. What puzzled her more was why, after saying that phrase, everyone would fall silent and sigh, as if those words described some distant, unreachable illusion.

Her life, at least on the surface, was peaceful.

She never cared how others lived, or how well they lived. But she couldn’t deny that whenever she saw Ye Zhanyan’s youthful and sincere smile, she felt a bit jealous. Sometimes she wondered whether, many years later, she would regret not having worn pretty clothes, styled her hair in the latest fashion, and stood happily smiling in the sunshine when she was young.

It wasn’t that she didn’t envy that other kind of youth — a more colorful kind.

She often looked at herself in the full-length mirror by the main staircase, not to fix her appearance. The girl in the mirror was slightly pale, delicate-faced, calm-eyed. Maybe it was narcissism, maybe self-pity; maybe those two feelings were really the same. She liked to hug her stack of papers tightly and walk down the long corridor with her head lowered. At times like this, she felt a sudden, inexplicable pride in herself. Over the years, only this kind of inexplicable pride clung to her like a shadow. It was as if with it, she wouldn’t feel lonely. Or perhaps her pride stemmed from this reserved loneliness — she didn’t know.



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My Little Happiness 我的小确幸 Chapter is 17.2



Chapter 17.2 - Sakura (2)

Cong Rong frowned in confusion. “Didn’t you say you liked someone?”

Wen Shaoqing paused a moment, then smiled helplessly. “She probably doesn’t know I like her yet.”

Cong Rong’s eyes widened in surprise, staring at him, a little stunned. Someone like him could have a secret crush?

Noticing her shock, Wen Shaoqing asked, “What’s wrong?”

She quickly looked away, her gaze flickering. “Nothing.”

For a while, neither spoke. Then Wen Shaoqing quietly said, “As long as you realize I’m being ambiguous with you.”

His voice was low, and Cong Rong, still shocked by the idea of him secretly liking someone, didn’t catch it clearly. “What?” she asked.

Wen Shaoqing smirked, his eyes deep and dark. “Nothing.”

Cong Rong silently breathed a sigh of relief—no girlfriend was good; she didn’t want to be involved in anything immoral.

Just as Wen Shaoqing was about to speak, his phone rang. Seeing it was the hospital, he moved to the window to answer. After listening briefly, he began asking questions: “What symptoms? What medications have been used? Report all indicators...”

Unable to understand, Cong Rong started clearing the table and went to wash the dishes in the kitchen.

Hearing movement, Wen Shaoqing glanced over and saw the dog squatting by the kitchen door, unsure whether to come in or leave. They remained at an impasse. He smiled and turned back to the call.

“Let’s keep it like this for tonight. Keep an eye on things; I’ll come early tomorrow.” Before hanging up, he suddenly remembered, “Oh, book a brain CT for me tomorrow morning.”

Cong Rong finished washing the last bowl just as he returned, and he asked, “What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Breakfast” was a distant memory for Cong Rong. She wiped her hands. “I don’t eat breakfast.”

Wen Shaoqing looked at her. “Don’t eat at all?”

She nodded. “Yeah, not in the habit.”

He seemed concerned. “Never eat?”

She thought back. “When I was a kid, yes.”

“When did you stop?”

“After I started working.”

“Why?”

“Can’t get up early. What, Dr. Wen thinks I’m unhealthy?”

He considered and said, “You can eat breakfast at my place from now on.”

Cong Rong glared but said nothing.

Wen Shaoqing went on, “Breakfast isn’t complicated. Toast with spread in the microwave, fry an egg, peel and chop pumpkin, set it with rice in the soy milk maker to start when you wake up. Soft and sticky, done in ten minutes.”

She asked pragmatically, “Who washes the dishes? Who cleans the pan? Who cleans the soy milk maker? Ten minutes, really?”

He sighed helplessly. “You just have to eat.”

Cong Rong was intrigued. “How much a month?”

He didn’t get it. “What?”

She explained, “The breakfast cost, monthly.”

Wen Shaoqing was speechless. “Do I look like I’m running a breakfast shop?”

She bit her lip. “If it’s free, I wouldn’t dare come, wouldn’t feel right.”

He sighed. “You buy the ingredients, deliver them to my place every night. You pay for food, I do the cooking. If you don’t eat or I’m on night shift, no need to buy.”

She weighed it and agreed, “Okay.”

After scanning the fridge, he suggested, “Potato pancakes tomorrow morning? Consider it a trial? If you like it, I’ll keep making them.”

She nodded.

He closed the fridge. “It’s late. Time to sleep.”

She instinctively touched the back of her head. “I think it should be fine now. Maybe I’ll go home?”

Wen Shaoqing glanced lightly at her, ignoring the suggestion, and went out of the kitchen. “Master bedroom or guest room? Pick one.”

Cong Rong naturally chose the guest room. While inspecting it, Wen Shaoqing knocked and entered carrying a pillow. “Here, a new pillow. You often have trouble sleeping, with restless dreams, right?”

She took the pillow. “How do you know?”

He paused. “I checked your pulse when I moved you just now.”

“Checked my pulse?” She frowned. “You’re a Western doctor—why check pulses?!”

He hesitated, seeming troubled. “It’s a habit, hard to change.”

Cong Rong recalled Zhong Zhen saying Wen Shaoqing’s family had a tradition of Chinese medicine. Plus those handwritten medical books tonight were half Chinese medicine. She asked, “Did you really study Chinese medicine since childhood?”

“Zhong Zhen told you?”

He smiled mysteriously, looking deeply at her. “Sounds like you two really talk about me a lot.”

Caught off guard, she quickly pushed him out. “I’m tired. Go out. I want to sleep.”

Maybe because of the new bed, she slept restlessly, half-awake sensing someone enter. A hand gently touched the back of her head, quietly watching her before withdrawing.

Groggily, she recognized Wen Shaoqing and opened her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

The room was dimly lit by a wall lamp, his voice soft and unclear. “Nothing. I just wasn’t at ease, came to check. Sleep.”

She mumbled, “Mm...”



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Unrequited Love 暗恋橘生淮南 Chapter 35.2



Chapter 35.2 - Can You Understand my Rainy Days? (2)

"What's there to be polite about?" Sheng Huainan gave his standard smile. Luo Zhi wasn’t sure if she was overthinking it, but in that smile, she saw malicious teasing and sarcasm.

Her body stiffened. She didn’t know if it was out of stubbornness, but the anger she’d been silently holding in along the way wouldn’t let her leave so disgracefully. They stood silently like that for a long time. In the end, Luo Zhi gave in, thanked him one last time, and then turned around.

He remembered her in such weather, sent her messages to check on her, waded through the flood to pick her up.

But why then…

“Goodbye.” She lowered her head in defeat, her face still calm.

“Luo Zhi.” He finally spoke. Squinting his eyes with a smile, he rubbed the back of his head — the same sincere smile he had shown countless times before, but today, everything seemed different.

“What is it?”

“Can you… remember to return the raincoat to me?”

Suddenly, Luo Zhi felt her mind buzzing. Like a sudden flash of insight from Conan the Detective — but while Conan would be excited to find the truth, she felt embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll definitely return it. Washed clean, I’ll give it back. I don’t like Hello Kitty.” Luo Zhi lowered her eyes and said coldly.

Sheng Huainan said nothing. He didn’t seem surprised by her attitude but squinted slightly, a trace of disappointment flashing in his brows and eyes.

“Why?” he said, but it wasn’t really a question.

“It’s just a pattern. There’s no need for so many whys.” She shook her head.

“Then what do you like?” Sheng Huainan’s tone was a little displeased.

“What do I like?” Luo Zhi caught his tone and suddenly felt very confused and wronged.

Luo Zhi, why did you run out on such a rainy day? She held back tears, smiled, and tilted her head to look at a puddle on the ground. “When I was little, my dad bought me a green raincoat with a little frog painted on it. It was childish too, but I liked it very much.”

Sheng Huainan finally frowned in confusion. Luo Zhi’s smile grew even brighter.

“More importantly, my dad can never buy me a raincoat again.” She looked him straight in the eye, her smile slowly fading.

They stared at each other like this in the heavy rain for a long time. Luo Zhi felt all her strength had been bet on this inexplicable battle. She kept watching Sheng Huainan’s eyes darken as he turned his head away.

He turned, swiped his card, and went into the building.

It felt like slapping herself.

She remembered those two figures — the pink Hello Kitty and the green big-eyed little frog.

In April of senior year, in the afternoon, she went to school to collect her second mock exam results. She accidentally slipped at the school gate and got all muddy. Looking up, she saw a pair holding hands — one pink, one green. When they went inside, the girl took off the raincoat and stuffed it into the boy’s hand, sweetly saying—

“Please keep this for me. I want to carry it with me all my life.”

“Why?”

“So that,” she smiled beautifully, with a bit of slyness, “you can come pick me up every rainy day.”

Why? Why did he come pick her up wearing his ex-girlfriend’s raincoat, coldly smiling at her? Why?

But what Luo Zhi remembered more deeply was the big-eyed little frog raincoat Sheng Huainan was wearing then.

When she was five, one rainy afternoon, she got a call at her grandmother’s house. Her dad said, “Luo Luo, I’ll come pick you up after work. It’s raining hard outside. I bought you a new raincoat — the little frog one we saw on the second floor of the department store.”

She held the phone happily and called out. She waited all afternoon, spinning around in her grandmother’s kitchen and even knocking over a basin.

But she never waited for her dad.

Her dad died.



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My Little Happiness 我的小确幸 Chapter is 17.1



Chapter 17.1 - Sakura (1)

Wen Shaoqing shrugged, worried that if he kept talking, she’d get annoyed again. He picked up a few books from the corner of the desk and went over to the sofa in the corner.

Cong Rong blushed and didn’t look at him. After a while, when Wen Shaoqing went quiet, she leaned over to peek.

He was quietly typing on his computer, occasionally glancing down at the thick books spread out before him. He’d pick up a pen and jot something down. Sitting far apart, Cong Rong could only make out some medical terms on his screen she didn’t understand. She recalled Zhong Zhen bragging about how his boss was great at clinical skills and strong in research, probably unaware his boss stayed up late every night working hard.

Noticing her gaze, Wen Shaoqing looked up. “Finished?”

Cong Rong withdrew her eyes, seeing her email was already sent, and closed her laptop. “Almost.”

Just as she said that, a strange rumbling sound came from him. Cong Rong’s face instantly flushed.

Wen Shaoqing raised his right fist to his lips, stifling a laugh, and asked, “Hungry? Didn’t eat dinner?”

She nodded softly. “Mm…”

He put down his pen and stood. “There’s no food at home. Instant noodles okay?”

Cong Rong stood too and nodded. “Okay.”

He glanced at her and smiled knowingly—she was definitely a hidden foodie. She usually gave him a hard time about everything else, but when it came to food, she was much easier to please.

About ten minutes later, Cong Rong looked at the steaming bowl before her and thought it was the fanciest instant noodles she’d ever eaten! A soft-boiled egg rested on top, with greens, ham, and dried shrimp filling the bowl to the brim, making her mouth water just looking at it.

Wen Shaoqing handed her the chopsticks and asked, “What do you want to drink?”

Without thinking, she answered, “Instant noodles need ice-cold cola!”

He glanced at her. “Women shouldn’t drink too much cold stuff. I have cola, but forget the ice-cold one.” Then he turned to the kitchen, returning quickly with a bottle of cola and a glass. He poured a full glass and placed it in front of her.

Cong Rong took a sip and mumbled, “I thought doctors didn’t eat instant noodles or drink cola.”

Wen Shaoqing smiled. “How many doctors do you know?”

She swallowed the last bite and thought seriously. “Besides Zhong Zhen, who’s still a trainee doctor, I only know you. Most doctors really dislike lawyers.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Because of medical disputes?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Wen Shaoqing suddenly said, “I don’t dislike you.”

Cong Rong was momentarily stunned, not knowing how to respond. Her wandering eyes finally landed on the glass she had just used. The glass was made of rippled glass, bumpy to the touch, short and squat in shape. Its walls were a faint icy pink, decorated with scattered cherry blossom petals. Through the glass, she could see the bubbles in the cola—it looked beautiful.

Seeing her stare blankly, Wen Shaoqing asked, “What’s up with the glass?”

She came back to herself. “Nothing much, just think it’s pretty.”

He poured another half glass of cola. “If you like it, it’s yours. New, never used.”

Cong Rong held it and suddenly asked, “You didn’t make this yourself, did you?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Do I look that capable to you?”

She murmured quietly, “A guy who carves chopsticks must be able to do anything.”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but Wen Shaoqing caught it clearly. His smile deepened and spread to his eyes, full of amusement. “I didn’t make the glass, but I painted those cherry blossoms on it.”

Cong Rong ran her fingers over the pale pink petals. “You like cherry blossoms?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She looked up at him. “Why do you like cherry blossoms?”

He thought for a moment and answered seriously, “Cherry blossoms are Japan’s national flower, right? Men always have a strange kind of affection for Japanese things.”

“…“ Cong Rong realized Wen Shaoqing’s hidden traits went beyond being scheming—he was also shameless.

She couldn’t help but glance at his face again, still unable to believe such a fair complexion could be so thick-skinned.

After that mental grumble, a wave of disappointment welled up inside her. He probably forgot that her in-game ID was Sakura—the Japanese word for cherry blossom.

Seeing Cong Rong lower her eyes and say nothing, Wen Shaoqing suppressed his smile. “I was just joking. That year when I went on a business trip to Japan, I saw a cup like that and really liked it, but they wouldn’t sell it. So after coming back, I bought a similar one and painted the blossoms myself.”

Cong Rong felt a little sensitive and not at all magnanimous. Your ID is Sakura, and he just happens to like cherry blossoms—don’t overthink it. Seeing Wen Shaoqing’s honest face with no other meaning, she took a big sip of cola and soon smiled, shaking the glass in her hand. “So… I really can take it?”

Wen Shaoqing smiled and nodded. Suddenly he asked, “Why were you mad a few days ago? And just now in the study?”

Cong Rong was rational and believed some things were better cleared up. Since he asked, she answered honestly. “Because I thought you already had a girlfriend but were still ambiguous with me, like a player. I don’t like that.”

Wen Shaoqing looked at her in surprise. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”



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Unrequited Love 暗恋橘生淮南 Chapter 35.1



Chapter 35.1 - Can You Understand My Rainy Days? (1)

The moment she received the message, she didn’t reply to Sheng Huainan. Instead, she swiftly and calmly packed her sneakers into her backpack, grabbed a plastic bag, opened her umbrella, and dashed out of the dormitory recklessly. She rolled up her pant legs, wore slippers, and waded through the floodwaters to a small café near the dorm. From a distance, she saw many people sheltering from the rain at the main entrance, so she quietly slipped in through a side door. She ran to the restroom to dry off her legs and feet, then put the umbrella and slippers into the plastic bag and stuffed it into her backpack. Finally, she put on her sneakers and let down her pant legs.

Good, no one could tell she had run through the rain.

All those detective novels she had read suddenly turned into decisiveness, prompting her to take action so quickly.

She had to seize this chance.

Then she checked her phone — Sheng Huainan sent another message: “Where are you?”

She replied, “One-way street café, doomed. I already put a plastic bag over my head, ready to dash out.”

Sent.

Lo Zhi knew that although she didn’t seem as calm and collected as others thought, she had never done anything this reckless before.

Her heart was anxious, with a constant feeling that this was the last chance. “Reply quickly, reply quickly,” she kept pacing around humbly.

She was very afraid he would just respond, “Then run slowly, you little drenched rat.”

Unintentionally, she glanced sideways at the mirror on the wall and saw her pale face, unable to hide the anxiety and affectation. She froze on the spot and slowly hardened, then gave a bitter smile to the reflection.

She was really just like this.

When his message arrived, Lo Zhi had already regained a normal expression.

“Wait for me, I’m coming right now.”

Lo Zhi’s cold smile gradually turned a little bleak. Because she had been so fearful and hopeful before, the joy that should have been there was diluted. Maybe this was her greatest sorrow.

She sat on a chair waiting. Everyone else watched the rain, but she stared at her palm.

At the moment she looked up, she saw Sheng Huainan standing beside her, staring blankly at her.

Lo Zhi stood and smiled. He was holding a big umbrella, the tip dripping water. Without expression, Sheng Huainan nodded at her, slowly opened his backpack, and took out a raincoat — a pink one with Hello Kitty printed on it.

She froze for a moment, looked up, and vaguely saw a slight smile on Sheng Huainan’s face, one she couldn’t understand.

Lo Zhi had always hated that cat. She didn’t like cats without spirit, dumb and soulless.

Of course, there was an even more important reason — she had seen this raincoat before.

“The rain is too heavy, an umbrella isn’t enough. Wear the raincoat for double protection. Does the shopkeeper have plastic bags? Give me two. You can wear them on your feet to keep water out of your shoes. I won’t use any — I’m already soaked.”

She didn’t ask where he had come from or say thank you. She just listened to his instructions and followed him as he pulled her along. Wearing the hood of the raincoat, the sound of the rain outside felt different, as if she were isolated in her own world. Her feelings were complicated and hard to describe. From the moment she received his message until now, it wasn’t unhappiness — but the raincoat made her skin burn.

They waded through water together. Lo Zhi hid inside the raincoat and found it hard to turn her head; the hood kept blocking her view.

“Sorry, your shoes must be soaked through.”

Sheng Huainan glanced down at his feet but said nothing.

“Is your cold better?”

His expression softened a bit, nodded — or at least Lo Zhi saw a faint nod through the translucent pink.

“Why don’t you say anything?” Lo Zhi frowned, suppressing the unhappy feelings swirling inside.

“There’s nothing to say.” He smiled for a moment — that light, carefree smile again.

At the dormitory entrance, Sheng Huainan said, “Go in quickly.”

Lo Zhi was at a loss for words and only said, “Thank you, really.”



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