Chapter Forty-Six: Reunion with the Phantom Zither

With the final punctuation tapped, I let out a long sigh of relief—at last, every idea I could think of had been poured into this virtual document.

"Little brother... how long did you mull over all this? You've been typing for ages..." Zhao Ke Wen lay bored on the bed, flipping through a magazine. Seeing me finish, she finally sat up.

"Let's put it this way: ever since I promised to help you plan the first issue's theme, my brain hasn't had a moment's rest except when I sleep." Leaning back in the chair, I smiled. The feeling of harvesting my own creativity was exhilarating.

"Wow, little brother, your gentle smile is making your big sister's heart flutter!" Zhao Ke Wen giggled as she spoke.

My smile froze. Sis, must you be so intense? What does it even mean that my smile makes your heart flutter?

Watching my awkward expression, Zhao Ke Wen seemed immensely amused. She hopped off the bed with delight, bent over beside me to look at the "Theme Flow Plan" on my computer.

I was about to explain the strengths and weaknesses of my proposal, but as I turned my head, I caught sight of Zhao Ke Wen's deep cleavage, revealed by her bending posture.

Good heavens... Ke Wen really is something! I was momentarily stunned, instinctively thinking so, but quickly turned my head, pretending not to see. Feeling a bit guilty, I glanced up at Zhao Ke Wen's expression. She seemed unaware of my evasive gaze, still focused on the words on the screen.

Just as I secretly rejoiced at my successful concealment, I noticed a strange smile flicker across Zhao Ke Wen's lips.

"Little brother..."

"Hmm?"

"Is it pale?"

"Mm."

"Is it big?"

"Mm..." My reflexive answer made my skin prickle—oh no, danger!

"Mm your head! You little rascal, sneaking a peek at me while I'm distracted, huh? Two days without a lesson and you're getting bold, are you?" Zhao Ke Wen's roar sent me leaping from the chair, bolting toward the door!

"Sis, take a good look at the plan, okay? I still need to think through some details, so I'll head back first!" I flung open the security door and dashed out.

Clutching my wildly thumping chest, I took a deep breath—thank goodness I escaped... Though Zhao Ke Wen always spoke fiercely, I knew from experience that at heart she was rather conservative. Joking was fine, but anyone who tried to take advantage of her would be asking for trouble!

Back in my room, I lit a cigarette and checked the time. It was already late. I'd been so absorbed in thinking and writing that I'd lost track—nearly three hours had passed since I'd gone next door!

It had been ages since I felt this relaxed. Drawing deep breaths of smoke, my excitement still refused to settle. Just as Zhao Ke Wen said, this was a battle to prove my worth—there was no room for failure.

I dug my guitar out from under the bed, intending to return to the small stone bridge for another round of singing. Ever since inspiration for this theme struck me there, I'd been strangely drawn to that place—a site where I nearly lost my life but gained a thrilling surprise.

Glancing out the window, the weather was worlds apart from this morning. The sky was gloomy, a thick layer of clouds pressing down, as if rain was imminent.

Yichun's weather always vacillated; sunny in the morning, torrential rain by afternoon—just like people's hearts, impossible to predict or fathom.

Cradling my guitar, I stared at the brooding sky, lit another cigarette, and hesitated—should I go or not? Clearly, if I went, I'd probably get drenched, but I really wanted to sing there...

"Follow your heart," I decided, crushing out the cigarette and heading out with my guitar.

Along the way, men and women from all walks of life hurried by. In this oppressive air, the already tenuous bonds between people grew even more distant; everyone moved with purpose, anxiety in their steps. Young couples held hands as they hurried to nearby convenience stores or ice cream shops, while the older folks lingered at the roadside, scanning for taxis to rush home... In such a dry season, amidst such dull lives, was there no one who enjoyed being caught in the rain?

"Crazy!" I silently cursed myself. Seeking shelter from rain or heat was instinctive. My odd fondness for rain didn't mean others should share it—that was a selfish notion.

Alone, carrying my guitar, I strolled toward the stone bridge. Passersby looked at me with either puzzlement or envy—puzzled by my mindset, envious of my freedom.

No sooner had I sat on the bridge steps than the first drops began to fall—scattered raindrops pattering on my head and face, cool yet pleasant. With a gentle, refreshing breeze, I surveyed my surroundings. The couples who used to rendezvous here were absent, pressed away by the sudden change in weather. It felt natural, yet I was a little disappointed... Looking at the deserted, silent walkway beneath the bridge, I couldn't help but reminisce about kissing and running with Zhang Jiaxin in the pouring rain. We could lose ourselves completely in that tender utopia; no matter how wild the storm outside, we felt that almost mad love. Time has passed, but those memories etched in my heart still carry a trace of sweetness.

Sitting on the damp steps, I strummed the strings and sang Zhang Xinzhe's "Overboard".

Slowly closing my eyes, my mind replayed those wild, reckless love stories with Jiaxin. Over and over, I sang "Overboard", as if intoxicated, unable to stop... Such love would never come again, would it? I asked myself but found no answer. Am I unwilling to touch love again, or have I grown numb to it? I couldn't tell.

Did I promise you too much, or was what I gave never enough?
You always had a thousand reasons, and I always followed your feelings...
Let you lose yourself, let you be free, thinking one day you'd be moved.

I sang, again and again, as if possessed, my voice growing louder. In the same city, yet hearts drifting farther apart... We'll never be together again, will we? Only when every dream is shattered do I see your tears and regret, my dearest... Jiaxin, have you ever regretted?

As I sang, my voice broke into sobs, hot tears mingling with the drizzling rain down my cheeks. With closed eyes, I wept; I was so fragile—a rainy day, alone, lonely days, heart-wrenching experiences, endless hardships and failures, layer upon layer, enveloping my whole existence, untouchable yet so near.

Wiping my eyes, I despised my own weakness, crying like a woman!

I opened my eyes, stunned, unable to react.

Beside me sat a girl, though I hadn't noticed her arrive. She wore a baggy tracksuit, a large hood pulled over her head, hiding her face, with long hair draped over her shoulders. Behind her rested a large, all-black wooden guitar, as if it had long since become part of her. She and the instrument radiated a quiet, natural calm.

Sensing my gaze, the girl slowly turned her head and stared into my eyes. Her cheeks were slightly plump, endearingly cute, and she smiled. "Back to reality?"

"Youqin!" I stared dumbly at the girl who seemed to have appeared beside me like a sudden vision, and found myself at a loss.

"Long time no see." Youqin smiled, her voice tinged with indifference. She reached into her oversized pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, an unfamiliar foreign brand. Opening it, she took out two, handing one to me. "Care for a smoke?"

"Thank you..." I accepted the cigarette, only to find that my lighter wouldn't work in this weather.

Youqin lit her own cigarette, took a drag, then handed me her lighter.

I glanced at it—a vintage oil lighter with a wheel, engraved at the bottom with a line of English: "BabyForever". Baby, forever. I couldn't grasp its meaning. After lighting my cigarette, I returned the lighter to her.

"When did you get here?" I asked, taking a drag.

"When the rain hasn't stopped, and the strings haven't snapped." Youqin's answer was strange, and I couldn't understand.

So, exposed to the rain, Youqin and I smoked together. I watched her; she watched the far end of the bridge, and neither of us spoke again.

"Shall we sing?" After a while, I suggested. My clothes were soaked, but I felt no chill—perhaps the smoke had warmed my heart.

Youqin nodded, cradling her guitar. She glanced at me.

"Your turn to start," she said. I felt as though my emotions had been entirely drained just now; I couldn't sing anything worthwhile, but I eagerly anticipated her performance. Her last rendition of "Eloping" had left such a deep impression that even now, recalling it, the lingering notes seemed to echo.

Youqin nodded again, plucked the strings twice, paused, as if considering what to sing.

I waited quietly for her song, eager to see what kind of shock this mysterious, free-spirited girl would bring me again.

"Are you ready to hear my story?" Suddenly, she smiled at me, her sweetness like a seed sinking into my heart, making me feel both happy and sad at once.

"I've been waiting a long time," I replied sincerely, remembering her promise—that if we met again, she would tell me her story.