TPIL - 53

The driver ate a sandwich nearby for lunch, then squatted in the square to feed the pigeons for a while. Suddenly, it started raining, so he bought a bottle of soda and returned to the car to wait for their call.

Qi Xiaochuan and Luo Andi stood under the eaves as a light drizzle began to fall outside. She stretched out her hand, allowing raindrops to roll into her palm. With a gentle shake, the water droplets slid down along the lines of her hand. Unexpectedly, he reached out to grab her hand, pulling it back and using his thumb to wipe away the remaining moisture before releasing it and saying, “Stop playing.”

“I'll have the driver bring an umbrella over,” he said.

She didn’t stop him but simply remarked faintly, “I still really like the rain.”

His movements paused momentarily as he subtly set his phone aside. But she continued speaking: “When I was little, I read a book written by an English author. One of the stories was called 'The Necklace of Raindrops.' It was about a girl named Laura whose godfather was the North Wind. The North Wind gave her a necklace made of raindrops, which allowed her to stay dry in the rain while also giving her the power to control rainfall. I was young then and believed it completely—it seemed so magical, and I desperately wanted one. But of course, it wasn’t real. No matter how wealthy a family might be, you can’t buy a necklace that controls the weather.”

Bored, Qi Xiaochuan added, “Even so, you still like it?”

“At first, I hated it. I always thought rain and bad weather were like things in life you couldn’t escape no matter what. But later on, some good memories came with it too.” She smiled softly, gazing ahead without haste. “So I ended up liking it.”

She turned her head to look at him.

Caught off guard, it felt as if he’d been drenched head-to-toe in moonlight, leaving him speechless. Qi Xiaochuan didn’t shy away; instead, he stared back directly.

“That’s quite enviable,” he said abruptly, without context.

Luo Andi failed to understand his meaning and asked, “What?”

But he refused to elaborate further.

During the long hours of the return journey, Luo Andi eventually succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep. At some point, she vaguely felt the car stop and heard fragments of conversation between the driver and Qi Xiaochuan, something along the lines of “don’t wake her.” In the end, Qi Xiaochuan took over driving. They drove for a while longer until she woke up to find herself covered with a blanket prepared in the car, the view outside the window revealing the most ordinary residential area—one devoid of any special features.

By the time they got out of the car, Qi Xiaochuan realized she was awake. He only asked her to wait downstairs for him, but she insisted on accompanying him upstairs. There was no elevator, so they climbed countless flights of stairs together. The elderly couple who had been contacted were already waiting at the door, treating Qi Xiaochuan warmly, as if this weren’t their first meeting. In fact, he had visited them many times before. They were Zhou Hanyao Cheng’s parents.

To be precise, their interactions began after Zhou Hanyao Cheng was hospitalized.

Before that, Qi Xiaochuan and Zhou Hanyao Cheng had discussed their families from time to time. Compared to Qi Xiaochuan’s rare Dickensian orphan narrative, Zhou Hanyao Cheng’s story was much more ordinary. From a young age, he was a dreamy top student who effortlessly gained admission to a prestigious university known for its blue running track. His exchange programs abroad and subsequent postgraduate studies went smoothly. His parents were ordinary civil servants from a small county town. At first, they were thrilled about their son’s success, but gradually, they began to feel the downside of having such an accomplished child—whenever Zhou Hanyao Cheng wanted to do something, he was uncontrollable. He left state-owned enterprises, then private companies, and finally ventured into entrepreneurship. Each step brought turbulence, leaving his parents shaking their heads repeatedly. Surprisingly, however, they held a very favorable impression of Qi Xiaochuan.

The earliest few meetings occurred when Qi Xiaochuan hurriedly arrived just before visiting hours ended at the hospital. Dressed haphazardly, his brow furrowed, he walked into the ward without paying attention to anyone else. He rarely spoke, merely checking on how his friend undergoing chemotherapy was doing. If he encountered the family, he would give a curt nod and leave immediately. The real conversations took place in the morgue, where everyone else was wailing loudly while Qi Xiaochuan stood quietly, making one phone call after another. He arranged everything—the mortuary services, communications with the hospital—and was the last person to say goodbye to the body.

Their friend, who had endured so much suffering, looked emaciated and frail. Qi Xiaochuan shed no tears but softly said, “See you again.”

After the widow was sentenced to prison, Zhou Hanyao Cheng’s portrait was moved back to his parents’ home. Qi Xiaochuan occasionally sent condolence money, but six months later, his parents began returning it. They both had their own pensions and weren’t greedy for wealth. The only time they proactively contacted Qi Xiaochuan was to plead for leniency for their daughter-in-law. Qi Xiaochuan neither agreed nor took advantage of their misfortune.

He bought some consolation items, didn’t stay for dinner, and only spent a few minutes in Zhou Hanyao Cheng’s childhood bedroom. Luo Andi saw the photo of the man but didn’t ask further questions.

As they were going downstairs, she sighed, “In just over a decade, how have so many people passed away?”

“Some are born, some die—it's the most common natural law,” he replied as he started the car, offering a simple answer to her reflection.

When she returned to work, whether or not it was due to the effectiveness of previous measures, Su Yining finally seemed to have come to his senses and actively dispersed the group of members who had been disrupting the normal progress of the handicraft classes. However, flowers continued to arrive regularly. The most recent delivery was perfumed lilies. Luo Andi was in a good mood but didn’t keep them; as usual, she divided the stems, packaging them to give to nearby shops for decoration.

Work finally got back on track.

After becoming the store manager, her performance steadily improved, and she overcame difficulties one by one.

As a token of gratitude, Luo Andi treated each employee to an iced coffee. She was in her office when there was a knock on the door, and a colleague who had started working at the same time peeked in: “Sister Andi, I wanted to ask if you’re free next Sunday? I’m off that day and want to go shopping for some clothes. Could you accompany me?”

Luo Andi thought for a moment: “I might need to come to the store.”

The colleague’s expression immediately fell, and with a sorrowful request, she said, “Sister Andi, actually, my mom is coming out of rehab soon. I want to dress up nicely to pick her up. But I don’t have any other friends I can consult, and I trust only you—”

“Xiao Ruo…” Luo Andi hesitated for a while but eventually agreed, “Alright then.”

She saw the look of satisfaction and contentment on her colleague’s face, and Luo Andi didn’t deny that she indeed enjoyed such moments. Suddenly reminded of something, Luo Andi suggested, “I have another friend, Miss Zhu, who has also visited the store. Let’s invite her too. Peijie is very nice; you two might get along well.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Xiao Ruo’s previous excitement disappeared. She spoke frankly, “I dislike her.”

This reaction caught Luo Andi off guard: “She signed up for my class, and you haven’t really interacted much, right?”

“I just don’t like her. Please don’t invite anyone else.”

Xiao Ruo retreated, and as she reached the door, she smiled and said earnestly, “Thank you, Sister Andi.”

“Remember to talk more with your mom—”

Before Luo Andi could finish her sentence, the sound of the closing door interrupted her, leaving her words stuck in the doorway.

When she returned home, the housekeeping staff had just finished cleaning and left. Luo Andi placed Alexander McQueen on the new cat climbing frame and then sat down on the sofa, silently lost in thought. Qi Xiaochuan handed her a bottle of mineral water, but she didn’t hear him, her mind seemingly immersed in her own world. The three-legged cat came to her side, gently nudging her hand. Luo Andi naturally obliged its request.

He watched intently as she stroked the cat.

Saint Irene saved Saint Sebastian from the cross; her pure, delicate hands covered his wounds, miraculously healing them.

Qi Xiaochuan sat beside Luo Andi, moved the cat away, and resumed his sitting position, the entire process flowing smoothly. She suddenly turned her head, and he still wore the same unpleasant expression as always, as if he held millions of unpaid debts in his hands.

“Sorry,” she noticed the change in atmosphere and smiled, “I suddenly missed my mom.”

“It’s alright.” He answered, abruptly turning his face and, without warning, pulled her onto his lap.

In an instant, Luo Andi found herself pushed to a slightly higher position, her center of gravity not yet settled, looking at him with sudden unease. Qi Xiaochuan tilted his head and kissed her. Luo Andi didn’t resist and allowed him to deepen the kiss.

Progressively advancing, like warm water simmering.

Qi Xiaochuan pressed her down, and Luo Andi tried to close her legs, but it was already too late. His methods weren’t just about coercion; men’s shamelessness in bed was truly instinctual. At times, he was gentle enough to be harmful, yet suddenly changed demeanor, revealing ferocity and roughness, leaving everyone who witnessed it exclaiming he must have taken the wrong medicine.

Even so, he still had regrettable flaws. After brushing against her ear and the tip of her nose, she asked him, “Xiaoxiao, do you really love me? Do you cherish me?” Even at this point, he remained completely unaffected by emotional entanglement, ruining the mood by asking, “What kind of love are you referring to?”

Qi Xiaochuan had never been verbally bested, and as the saying goes, what one gains in one area, one loses in another. He successfully reaped what he sowed. Luo Andi abruptly propped herself up, pushing his face, which bore no trace of kindness. Their limbs entangled, and they temporarily needed to tidy their clothes and hair.

Luo Andi resolutely refused: “I need to return the book I borrowed from the library. I must read now.”

Qi Xiaochuan complained disdainfully: “Your hand touched the cat.”

“So what?” Luo Andi giggled, fearless even if she wasn’t entirely aware of being favored, and even continued to scratch under his chin.

As expected, aside from a few disgruntled remarks, he showed no other response, silently allowing her to tease him. As she caressed his jawline, fleeting thoughts of admiration raced through her mind. She was indeed enjoying the presence of a man who was flawless except for his personality. Her fingers brushed over his forehead, and he lowered his eyes as if deep in thought. When she stopped moving, he unconsciously raised his head, allowing her to cover his eyelids with her palm.

He was like a sharply defined plaster figure. To tell the truth, she hadn’t hoped to see him show weakness. Lost in thought, she felt a slight coolness on her arm when Qi Xiaochuan suddenly licked it. Startled, Luo Andi quickly pulled her arm back, pretending to be angry but unable to suppress her laughter: “Are you a dog?”

Only because she hadn’t paid attention to him did he unconsciously engage in behavior to attract notice. Qi Xiaochuan refused to admit it.

Luo Andi comfortably lay back on the sofa, reading Nakayama Yui’s sewing instruction book. Qi Xiaochuan simply turned on the TV, holding her knees as she stretched across him, watching the football match broadcast at a leisurely pace.