TIMO - Chapter 70
Chapter 70
This seemed like a philosophical question.
It made Jiang Wenqing frown. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but nothing came out. In the end, she pushed the topic to the person she considered closest to the word “philosophy.”
“Ye Er, what do you think?” She turned to Ye Er, hoping that someone who had always excelled academically could answer this question.
Ye Er frowned, his gaze lifting from his notebook. He pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose. “It depends on what your regret is. If your regret is not recording the five of us watching the sunrise, then that can naturally be remedied next time.”
“But if your regret is not having seen this sunrise… that probably can’t be remedied.”
Ye Er gave a very standard, rational analysis. Jiang Wenqing nodded, yet felt it wasn’t the answer she was looking for. So, she chose another very intelligent person present.
“Sister Shi Nan, what do you think?”
“I think…” Shi Nan began, first glancing at Kong Weiyan. The center of the discussion simply lifted her chin, signaling for her to speak her mind. Shi Nan smiled and took the beer Fu Zhao handed her. “I don’t know what your regret is.”
“But I do know that Weiyan must have had a very big regret in the past.”
That one sentence was a wake-up call. Jiang Wenqing snapped her fingers, finally understanding what felt off. Kong Weiyan had been the most enthusiastic among them, so why was her thinking on this issue so different from theirs?
So there was a story behind it. She came to this conclusion and looked at Kong Weiyan with an animated expression. “Want to talk about it? The sun isn’t up yet. Maybe some regrets get better if you just say them out loud.”
Kong Weiyan lowered her eyelids dismissively, pulled the blanket around herself tighter, and took a sip of beer. “If this kind of thing could be remedied just by talking about it, that would be too lucky.”
So there really was something?
Seeing that Kong Weiyan didn’t seem too resistant, Jiang Wenqing couldn’t help but ask Fu Zhao, “Fu Zhao! You must know, right? You’ve known her for so long. Is it something serious?”
The question was now directed at her. Fu Zhao fell silent for a moment, glancing at Kong Weiyan, unsure of her attitude. But thinking about it, she really didn’t know what Kong Weiyan’s regret was, so she just shook her head slightly. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Jiang Wenqing’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How could it be something even you don’t know about?”
Logically speaking, having known Kong Weiyan for so long, if Kong Weiyan had some irreversible regret, she should have heard something about it. Just like with her previous thoughts about Shi Nan-even if she didn’t say anything, Kong Weiyan could tell.
So why was she completely unaware of Kong Weiyan’s so-called “regret”?
Fu Zhao fell into deep thought. Memories of Kong Weiyan flooded her mind, a bit chaotic, but she truly couldn’t find any related memory. Just as she was about to carefully recall her memories from when she first returned to Nanke Island, her palm was gently squeezed.
“Some things are perhaps better kept in the heart than spoken aloud.”
Shi Nan’s gentle voice reached her ears, mixed with a bit of wind. It was very soft, as if spoken right next to her ear.
Fu Zhao came back to her senses and saw Shi Nan wink at her. The ripples in her tea-brown eyes stirred gently, and she curved her lips to continue, “But the fact that you love me must be spoken aloud.”
“Say it a few more times. It’s best if you say it every day.”
Fu Zhao was stunned for a few seconds, then her eyes curved into a smile. She took the initiative to interlace her fingers with Shi Nan’s. “Mm, I know.”
“So, about Weiyan’s matter, it’s probably not convenient to tell you.” Shi Nan leaned close to her ear, her bright eyes blinking. She spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear, her breath slightly warm. Then she raised her hand and ruffled Fu Zhao’s hair, as if afraid she would dwell on the matter.
The warmth from the top of her head was very comfortable, and the touch was soft. Fu Zhao felt soothed by the gesture and stopped thinking about Kong Weiyan’s affairs, simply humming in agreement. “Okay.”
“Actually, it’s not something that can’t be said.”
Kong Weiyan spoke up herself. Under Jiang Wenqing’s curious gaze, as Ye Er gently looked up at her, and as Fu Zhao and Shi Nan turned to face her, she cleared her throat and began with rich emotion, “It’s just that a long time ago, there was someone I liked…”
Someone she liked?
Confusion colored Fu Zhao’s eyes. How had she never heard that Kong Weiyan had liked someone?
“And then? And then?” Jiang Wenqing pressed impatiently, rubbing her hands together in anticipation of Kong Weiyan’s story.
But Kong Weiyan just patted her shoulder and said calmly, “It’s already a regret. How could there be an ‘and then’?”
“The way you put it…” Jiang Wenqing sighed lightly and waved her hand. “I have no comeback for that.”
Kong Weiyan just smiled and changed the subject, pointing to the faint glow emerging from the valley. “Looks like the sun is about to come out. It’s getting bright over there.”
“Really?” Jiang Wenqing instantly jumped up, adjusted the angle of her recording equipment, and aimed it at the valley ahead. “Then I have to record it quickly.”
The topic of regret came to an end.
Kong Weiyan quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Her fingertips, hidden under the blanket, were clenched so tightly they hurt, but her face maintained a neutral expression. Her tone was light. “Fortunately, thanks to my brilliant foresight, we didn’t miss the sunrise this time.”
But last time, she had missed it.
She had just lied. There was an “and then.”
It was just that this “and then” was so deeply intertwined with regret that every single second of her “after” was shackled in profound remorse, unable to break free, unable to escape.
Or perhaps, she was unwilling to break free, unwilling to escape.
She was willingly trapped in an eternal, endless solitude and longing.
The story was actually very simple. It could start with “once upon a time” and end with “and then.”
Once upon a time, there was someone she loved very, very much.
And then that person died, but she was still alive.
The sun rose amidst Jiang Wenqing’s sobs, because her recording device had truly run out of battery.
And so, Jiang Wenqing was left with the biggest regret of this trip.
As the sky brightened, a round sun peeked out from between the valleys. Layers of pure, flawless clouds stacked beside it, filling the entire field of vision. The brilliant orange morning glow slowly spread out, casting an orange-red radiance on the mountain peaks.
Being there in person was breathtaking.
Fu Zhao suddenly felt that the place Kong Weiyan had chosen was indeed perfect for watching the sunrise.
It seemed this sunrise truly couldn’t be missed.
If only Jiang Wenqing wasn’t crying her eyes out beside them.
She sighed softly, her gaze falling on Jiang Wenqing’s eyes, which were as red as a rabbit’s. After a moment of thought, she said, “Like we just said, if you wanted to record it, we can find another time to come back.”
“If you just wanted to see the sunrise…” Shi Nan continued Fu Zhao’s sentence, comforting Jiang Wenqing in a soft voice, “then you’ve seen it now. So there’s really no regret, right?”
Jiang Wenqing sniffled, took the tissue Ye Er silently handed her, and wiped her tears. “So when is next time? Tomorrow?”
“Not tomorrow.” Although Fu Zhao felt bad, she still had to refuse Jiang Wenqing. “Tomorrow is a workday.”
Jiang Wenqing was dealt a severe blow and burst into tears with a “Waaah.” “But then Sister Shi Nan will be going back to RT Planet again. Sob, sob, how long will we have to wait?”
Jiang Wenqing cried her heart out, and even Kong Weiyan started to feel a little sorry for her. She thought for a moment and looked at Fu Zhao with a serious expression. “When are you two getting married?”
“…” Fu Zhao pressed her lips together, not understanding why Kong Weiyan would suddenly ask this. She glanced at Shi Nan, unsure of what to say.
Shi Nan looked over as well, her eyes shimmering golden in the light of the dawn. She bit her lower lip, squeezed Fu Zhao’s fingers, and said in an extremely soft voice, “I’m fine with anytime.”
“Alright, in that case…”
Before Fu Zhao could reply, Kong Weiyan spoke first, sounding as if she were joking, yet also completely serious. “Then I promise, before Fu Zhao and Shi Nan get married, I will definitely organize another trip to see a sunrise even more beautiful than this one.”
Kong Weiyan had made a promise. Although Fu Zhao didn’t understand why Kong Weiyan would use “her and Shi Nan’s marriage” as a guarantee, looking at the sobbing Jiang Wenqing, she thought it over and temporarily agreed. “Okay, stop crying.”
“Don’t worry~~” Shi Nan was speaking to Jiang Wenqing, but her gaze was fixed on Fu Zhao’s eyes, a faint smile playing on her lips. “We won’t make you wait too long.”
“Stop crying,” Ye Er also comforted her softly. “Otherwise, when you go back down, your regret will be that you didn’t see this sunrise.”
As soon as Ye Er said that, Jiang Wenqing’s eyes widened. She wiped away her tears and clenched her small fists. “Then I’ll stop talking. You guys, look quickly.”
“Don’t let me be the reason you all have regrets.”
“Quick, quick, quick!” Jiang Wenqing urged in a low voice, turning each person who was gathered around her back to the correct position.
Pushed by Jiang Wenqing, the four of them faced the sun, which had now fully emerged. Seeing that Jiang Wenqing’s mood had improved considerably, they didn’t say anything more.
White clouds stacked up, the morning mist carried a chill, and the sun had completely risen from the valley. The morning sunlight pierced through the clouds, shining down on everyone’s face, reflecting in their clear, clean pupils, casting a pale golden glow on each of them.
“You have to let me and Ye Er sing the wedding song.”
On the quiet and serene mountain, this sentence suddenly popped up-it was Jiang Wenqing, whose tears hadn’t completely subsided.
Then came Kong Weiyan’s agreement.
“Then I’ll definitely be the wedding planner.”
The two-day, one-night trip ended faster than expected.
After skiing, Shi Nan returned to her previous residence on Nanke Island. This was the first time she had been back here since her return.
Her fingertips pressed a few numbers on the door’s keypad. The code was still the same; she had never changed it.
The door opened, but Shi Nan was momentarily dazzled by the sight before her.
There was nothing strange, really. Everything was as usual.
But it was precisely because everything was as usual that she stood frozen in place.
All the decorations, the furniture placement, even the coat rack, were in the same spot, at the same angle. She had packed in a hurry before, and some decorations had been knocked, leaving them at unflattering angles.
Later, she had even reminded Fu Zhao to have the housekeeping robot tidy up her home.
Had it not been tidied?
As she thought this, she subconsciously straightened a decoration, only to discover, to her surprise, that it was spotless. Even when she rubbed her fingertips over it, she couldn’t find any dust.
In that case, it had been tidied.
And it must have been cleaned every day to be kept this pristine.
An idea formed in Shi Nan’s mind. She lifted the decoration to look underneath and, sure enough, it was clean and tidy, without a speck of dust.
The person who cleaned had picked up the decoration, wiped it thoroughly and meticulously, and then placed it back in its original spot, at the exact angle and position she had left it in.
So, it was obvious who the cleaner was.
Shi Nan put the decoration back, straightening it a little this time. A curve unconsciously bloomed on her lips.
She wasn’t worried about ruining the appearance that “someone else” had so carefully maintained, because since she was the one putting the decoration back, it was still “maintaining the original state.”
Clink-
A crisp, clear sound came from the window. A small stone had been thrown in, hitting the glass. The source seemed to be just outside the courtyard.
Shi Nan put down her luggage and walked out, only to see a person standing quietly at the courtyard gate.
She was wearing a loose, clean black coat over a V-neck sweater, with the neat collar of a white shirt peeking out. A slender, pale wrist emerged, waving in the air as the hem of her coat was gently lifted by the wind.
Under the setting sun, the afterglow reflected on that beautiful face, shimmering with halos of light, making the person standing quietly in the snow look somewhat hazy and enchanting.
Sunsets on snowy days were particularly beautiful.
After becoming the Island Master, Fu Zhao had never worn just a white shirt again. She always wore various suit jackets over it. After all, a person in power needed to appear mature and steady.
It was the same now.
So, the first glance dazzled Shi Nan. She didn’t react for a moment. When she did, she secretly compared the figure before her with the Fu Zhao from several years ago.
Was there anything different?
There seemed to be traces of maturity in her features, but that seemed to be all.
Shi Nan couldn’t seem to find any other changes in Fu Zhao. She still had the same clear, bright eyes. Her style of dress had become more mature, and her hair had grown a bit longer, but as a whole, she seemed the same.
Gentle yet audacious, just like when she first saw her.
The light in those amber eyes rippled with a clear warmth as she approached, as if they held all the most beautiful stars in the universe.
Seeing that she was looking over, that slender, clean hand went back into her coat pocket. The person below broke into a smile, her voice clear and pleasant as it carried over, filled with the same youthful energy as always, radiating a vibrant glow.
“I just wanted to ask you…”
“If you have time to go on a date with me.”
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