On the small terrace of the second floor, Jiang Heng’s cigarette was only half smoked.
When the rusty iron gate was pushed open, it made a noticeable creaking sound. Jiang Heng turned his head and met Ji Yao’s gaze.
Jiang Heng gave him a quick once-over, noticing a hint of redness in Ji Yao’s eyes. Without saying anything, he moved a couple of steps aside to make some space for him.
Ji Yao closed the door behind him and stood next to Jiang Heng.
The old district had poor sound insulation and limited visibility. Everywhere one looked, there were old houses of various heights, tangled electric wires, and warm yellow light seeping through wooden window frames.
The lights from each household merged into a patchwork, mingling with the lingering aroma of meals not yet fully dispersed in the air. At first glance, it seemed as though everyone in the world had found their place.
Ji Yao’s gaze extended beyond the night, past the multitude of lights, and settled into the darkness.
Jiang Heng didn’t ask why he had come up here. With a cigarette between his fingertips, he flicked the ash lightly into the abandoned sink.
“Jiang Heng,” Ji Yao fell silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke, “Back then, were you disappointed in me?”
Having shared intimacy and sincere interactions, the unspoken understanding between them allowed Jiang Heng to grasp Ji Yao’s meaning without needing further explanation.
Jiang Heng didn’t know why Ji Yao had suddenly brought up this topic, but he understood that if he and Ji Yao wanted to continue on this path, they would eventually have to confront these issues.
So, he took a moment to recall and spoke the truth.
“I’ve kind of forgotten,” Jiang Heng said, “But maybe I was.”
He couldn’t quite remember how he felt when he found out about this. The complex and fleeting emotions had become blurred over time. When he tried to remember, he could only grasp bits.
It seemed like a workday back then. Jiang Heng was busy sorting through the final batch of documents, frowning at an old paper, when his phone on the table buzzed and a new WeChat message popped up.
By that time, the frequency of contact between Jiang Heng and Ji Yao had already decreased. Unexpectedly, in that in-between time, he received a new message. He thought it might be Ji Yao texting him secretly from under his parents’ watchful eyes.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he reached out to pick up his phone from the table. However, after unlocking it, he realized that the message wasn’t from Ji Yao, but from a friend.
“Is this your boyfriend?” The wording was cautious: “Well, there’s something I have to tell you—”
After that message, the chat was silent for a moment, then a one-minute video suddenly appeared.
In the video, Ji Yao stood beside a young woman, gesturing towards the arrangement in the banquet hall and saying something. Several middle-aged people were following them. Jiang Heng had seen Ji Yao’s parents at the school gate before, so it was easy to guess the identities of the remaining individuals from their behavior and interactions.
“They’ve come twice already and booked the peony garden in the wedding banquet area.” The friend seemed hesitant about whether to share this news with Jiang Heng. The “typing…” indicator lingered for three to five minutes before another message arrived: “Of course, it might be a misunderstanding. I suggest you ask him to clarify.”
In that instant, the gears in his mind seemed to halt. Before he could even summon feelings of “anger” or “betrayal,” a remarkably calm thought flashed through his mind.
beyond expectation, unreasonable Jiang Heng thought.
Ever since their reunion, Ji Yao might have wanted to ask him this question. Now that the thorn had been extracted, it hurt him while also providing a strangely relieving sense of pain.
“So, did you try to hook up with someone else because of that?” Ji Yao asked.
“Yeah,” Jiang Heng answered promptly, putting out the remaining third of his cigarette on the railing and flicking the butt into the trash bin by the door.
From the day he learned about Ji Yao’s engagement, Jiang Heng knew their relationship had reached its end.
But he couldn’t let go of Ji Yao.
Although Jiang Heng couldn’t accept having a partner who was married to someone else, he couldn’t easily say the words “break up.” He told himself that it was over between them, yet for the first time, his emotions clashed with his rationality. They stood in a standoff, neither side winning, almost tearing Jiang Heng apart.
And so, he made a wrong choice.
“I wanted to end our relationship,” Jiang Heng said.
His bottom line was cheating and betrayal. So, He initially thought of using this desperate move, to sever their ties and eliminate his own fantasies.
“Little did I know you’d come back that day,” Jiang Heng chuckled lightly and said, “Maybe it was fate.”
“If I hadn’t come back, would you have slept with him?” Ji Yao asked.
“I don’t know,” Jiang Heng admitted truthfully.
He didn’t want to, but in that particular atmosphere and under special circumstances, he might have pushed himself to do so.
Jiang Heng was the most rational among their group, but even that rationality could become a blade, one that might ultimately cut into himself.
“So, in all these years, you really haven’t been with anyone else?”
When Ji Yao asked this question, he already had an answer in his heart—Jiang Heng’s answer was almost certain.
“No,” as expected, Jiang Heng said, “I wouldn’t start a new relationship before fully letting go of the previous one. It wouldn’t be fair to the next person.”
Jiang Heng was an honest person, clear in his loves and hates. He didn’t hide anything unless he didn’t want to answer. In those cases, he would remain truthful.
This honesty made Ji Yao both relieved and saddened.
Ji Yao took a deep breath and turned to look at Jiang Heng.
Jiang Heng was wearing glasses. The silver half-frame glasses perched on his nose made him seem somewhat distant.
Jiang Heng’s nearsightedness wasn’t severe, and it didn’t affect his daily life much. He only wore glasses when working for extended periods or when meeting new clients, using them to enhance his presence.
Sometimes Ji Yao felt that this was Jiang Heng’s way of self-protectin.
And today, Ji Yao wondered, what was he trying to shield?
He looked through the thin lenses at Jiang Heng’s eyes, suddenly feeling the impulse to kiss him.
However, Ji Yao wasn’t drunk. He was fully aware that there was more than just these few words standing between him and Jiang Heng. There were many other things too.
Still, even with that understanding, he didn’t want to do nothing.
“Jiang Heng,” Ji Yao suddenly asked, “Can I hug you?”
“Why all of a sudden?” Jiang Heng asked in return.
“You did ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend. We should practice in advance,” Ji Yao licked his lips, heart racing, “In the role of a pretend boyfriend.”