Chapter 81: Don’t Let Loving Me Be Your Only Flaw

Jian Zhaowen thought that perhaps there are people in this world who care deeply about winning and losing, and once a winner is determined, they can give themselves a reason to be convinced. Qiu Nuo, within this logic, simply couldn’t understand why her perfection in every aspect was no match for the imperfections of others. A girl as precious as jade—loving him had become her only flaw.

While waiting in line, Jian Zhaowen received a message from Yu Zhimei, saying she would be discharged in the afternoon. He was deep in conversation with Yu Zhimei, arguing whether he should pick her up, when a man in front caught his attention. Just after hanging up on a headhunter’s call—unsatisfied with the salary and mismatched job type—he had also managed to sarcastically criticize the other party for being unprofessional as an HR representative, unable to explain things clearly or live life well. Turning his head slightly, he saw the man revising his resume. Eight years of Android development experience post-undergrad, and under his signature was written, “High salary expectations—serious inquiries only.”

Coincidence is just that simple. Standing quietly behind him, Jian Zhaowen observed the man until he placed his order. Then Jian deliberately ordered the exact same mocha and muffin, inviting the man to sit nearby. After chatting for a while, it became clear: the man had been marginalized by his company recently and was eager to change jobs. Living close by, he didn’t want to commute far; though his skills were excellent, he lacked connections to help him switch jobs. Jian offered him a 500,000 yuan annual salary, with a start date on Monday and a 20% discount during the probation period—a married man with a mortgage, whose temper wasn’t great and confidence not high, wouldn’t have excessive demands just to support his family. Besides, living nearby meant more overtime, and even if he was a Shanghai man, as long as he lived close by and was willing to pay for overtime, everything else was negotiable.

Jian Zhaowen and Lei Zheng had formulated a company policy: work alternating large and small weekends, no holiday benefits at all, but double pay for overtime. As long as efficiency was high and performance improved, everyone would receive stock options the following year. The vesting schedule was like a ticking time bomb—pragmatism was their most important priority, leaving no room for leisurely pursuits. Walking up the stairs, Jian felt invigorated, sipping coffee while checking the content of “Daytime” and “Nighttime.” The number of girls posting photos in the plaza had noticeably increased, with average likes rising from around ten to a hundred. Looking at the backend statistics in the early morning—44% male users, 56% female users—though he knew various troubles would inevitably arise, for now, he could only exhale deeply with relief. He had provided a space for lonely urban dwellers to speak their hearts, and he had done it.

The scenes in the Daytime and Nighttime zones were entirely different. In the Daytime zone, there were still users paying for matches (the three-month removal Lei Zheng mentioned had already passed a week ago, yet the paid window remained open). Most came seeking romance, and behind photo-editing apps, handsome men and beautiful women were plentiful. But in the hidden corners of the Nighttime zone, users exposed their companies’ secrets and posted their misdeeds in the plaza: boys who started relationships recklessly and ended them abruptly, parents who cheated and felt guilty about their children, ugly girls who wanted love but felt unworthy, and minors confused about their gender, tormented by their attraction to the same sex… With the sudden surge in users, the universe Jian Zhaowen created held both shining stars and dark matter lurking in obscure corners. Opening the app, whether the Daytime or Nighttime interface, the first screen displayed a swirling nebula. Each star opened to a love broadcast, each one enough to move Jian deeply. A new colleague played a song by Anbe Shinmei called Song for 1310 , and Jian watched the rolling planets, like watching clouds unfurl in the night sky.

In the fourth year of his entrepreneurial journey, Jian Zhaowen finally realized his dream. Though along the way, he never felt he achieved true success, at least in this moment, he could temporarily consider himself a leading figure in social software. Fewer than ten similar apps reached a million users quickly, and none matched their algorithms or product structure. The momentum of Daytime and Nighttime was frightening—even to himself. Finishing the last sip of coffee, he turned off his phone screen, feeling unusually exhilarated. Rising to his feet, he suddenly felt dizzy from lack of sleep; tonight, he needed to go home and rest properly. His phone buzzed—Li Yin sent a message: “Daytime and Nighttime is very good.”

Jian Zhaowen stood up abruptly, feeling as if wind rushed past his ears, his whole body full of energy, ready to run a marathon back to the city center. He called over three newly hired colleagues, flushed with excitement: “Let’s go, meeting time.”

Yu Zhimei had two scars below her chest, resembling centipedes, freshly healed and still red, like new tattoos. She went to the office to hand over her work and was then pulled out by colleagues for barbecue. Stepping outside into the cold wind, the taste in her mouth made her feel nauseous. Not even thirty yet, it seemed every bite of meat was harder to digest. Her male colleague hailed a car but again forgot to include Yu Zhimei—most colleagues, especially those with families, rarely showed human warmth. Yu bought a bottle of sparkling water from a convenience store, then dug out two popsicles from the freezer, sucking on them as she walked home. Upstairs, she saw Qiu Nuo squatting by the door—after Jian changed the lock, she couldn’t get in. Squatting in the damp hallway looked pitiful, and seeing Qiu’s resentful expression, Yu extended the other popsicle: “Want some?”

“No, I’m afraid of gaining weight.”

“Oh.” Yu took out her keys to unlock the door, glancing back at Qiu sitting on the steps: “Do you want to come in and cool off with the AC?”

“No, why should I be friends with you?”

“I have a cat.”

Qiu stood up and walked into the apartment. Entering the living room, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of cat litter, but endured it for the air conditioning. Yu cleaned the litter box and returned to find Qiu sitting in front of the AC, vigorously sucking on the popsicle, while LuLu crouched beside her as if guarding its territory. Yu picked up the cat, sat on the couch scrolling through her phone, not treating Qiu like a guest. Eventually, Qiu spoke first: “It’s not that I’ve changed my opinion of you—it’s just that you saved my life, so I can’t hate you.”

“Come on, are you still thinking about that? I don’t want to anymore.”

“I also have a dog, staying at home all day with the AC on, chewing bones, rabbit ears, drinking imported milk.”

Yu Zhimei naturally understood—Jian Zhaowen had once revealed the details of this relationship to her. Of course, she wouldn’t say anything, just listened as Qiu reminisced: “When I lived here before, Yuni and Bobo were still at a friend’s place in Beijing. Jian said on the phone he wanted to see the dogs, so I hired a car to bring them to Shanghai. He was so moved—but didn’t want to see me. We personally picked both dogs from the pet store and brought them home. Jian walked them and fed them daily, but after we broke up, he completely ignored the remaining one. Men’s words can’t be trusted.”

Yu extracted simple information: the little princess loved with all or nothing—when loving, she gave her all; when hating, she unleashed everything. Spoiled and indulged, having pet dogs was entertainment, while the complex nurturing fell entirely on Jian Zhaowen. To confirm, she asked: “So, where’s the remaining dog now?”

“At my parents’ house. Too annoying—I don’t have time for him.”

...What was she saying again?

Qiu stretched her legs, examining her fingers: “Do you know any good nail salons around here? In the nearby mall, preferably with an average cost of over 300 yuan.”

“I don’t do nails.”

Qiu looked at Yu Zhimei in surprise, who extended her hand. Qiu frowned: “How can you not have any feminine hobbies?”

Of course, Yu understood the disdain and confusion in Qiu’s eyes. She was a girl meticulously polished from head to toe, while the other woman appeared careless, conveniently becoming Jian Zhaowen’s beloved neighbor. Such a good boy—his love story should have been told with cinematic precision, every detail from camera angles to clothing and makeup carefully considered, even fingertips delicately packaged, exuding the fragrance of youthful romance. Five years ago, maybe she would have felt inferior, but now she only found it amusing—like a third-rate film today, with perfect casting and costumes filtered through lenses, yet failing to craft a compelling story, hollow.

Footsteps echoed from next door. Qiu jumped up and rushed out, leaving the half-eaten popsicle melting on the floor, staining it as if she hadn’t truly eaten it. The cat jumped from Yu’s lap to the floor, approaching the popsicle, but Yu quickly picked it up to clean. The cat could only circle the water stains, tail swaying.

Just as Jian Zhaowen ascended the stairs, he heard the voice from apartment 302. Smiling, he prepared to open his arms, but Qiu leapt out of the room, startling him into taking a step back. This retreat made Qiu displeased: “What do you mean, Jian Zhaowen? Disappointed that the person coming out of the neighboring apartment isn’t your girlfriend?”

Jian sighed: “Can you stop this?”

“Why is it always me making trouble? I waited for you after work, and even though you changed the lock, which was embarrassing, I didn’t get angry.”

Jian glanced at his watch—it was quarter to midnight. Sighing, he descended the stairs. Qiu urgently called out: “Where are you going?”

“To take you back to the hotel. Keep your voice down—the first floor is full of elderly residents.”

“No, I want to stay in your apartment. It’s too late, and I’m too tired to leave.”

How could someone not working be tired? Jian sighed: “Can you stop being difficult? After I drop you off, I still need to work overtime at home.”

“Let me stay one more night, the last night? I swear, after this night, I’ll never bother you again...”

“Really, please, stop this.” Jian suddenly turned serious: “Follow me downstairs, let’s go.”

Qiu quietly descended the stairs. This was the authoritative tone Jian Zhaowen used to employ when pushed to his limits. The stubbornness lingering in the air crumbled, replaced by damp, mediocre air. The ground was moistened by the humid summer night. She humbly followed behind Jian, watching his slightly hunched, silent figure, feeling it as a silent rejection. How could Jian Zhaowen, who once joked and gently caressed her, suddenly stop loving her?

She froze in place: “Jian Zhaowen, stop for a moment.”

The person ahead paused, looking at her with slight fatigue. Qiu couldn’t mistake the look in Jian’s eyes that said he no longer loved her, even recognizing the subtext: “Here we go again.” Between them, there had been countless such tug-of-wars, pulling each other off balance in a game reminiscent of masters sparring, leaving her nostalgic even now. She had once tried to pull Jian closer, hold him tighter, embed him into her being inseparably. For years, she couldn’t understand why Jian had let go.

Trembling, she asked: “Jian Zhaowen, why don’t you love me anymore?”

Jian never cold-shouldered her. He took a few steps back, stepping on his shadow as he chose his words: “You’ve asked me this question too many times. My feelings for you have worn away with each repeated inquiry. Qiu Nuo, stop clinging to me. You deserve a boy who truly cares for you. Don’t think of me every time you’re hurt—I’m human too. Consuming me like this isn’t fair to me either.”

“What about Yu Zhimei? You’re so busy with work, so why doesn’t she count as ‘consuming’ you?”

His pace quickened again, and Qiu struggled to keep up. To win back her ex-boyfriend, Qiu often wandered around Xintiandi since coming to Shanghai, familiarizing herself with every street and alley, walking through narrow lanes like blood flowing through veins. Xintiandi was bustling day and night, but the path leading to the parking lot was unusually quiet now, as if everyone avoided witnessing her rejection. She couldn’t discern her own expression facing Jian: “I’ll only ask you one last question.”

“Go ahead.”

“What makes her better than me? Why do you like her so much, rejecting me completely for her?”

Jian thought: perhaps there are people in this world who care deeply about winning and losing, needing a reason to convince themselves once a victor is decided. Qiu Nuo, within this logic, simply couldn’t understand why her perfection in every aspect was no match for the imperfections of others. A girl as precious as jade—loving him had become her only flaw. Thinking this, he hardened his heart: “This is the last time I indulge your nonsense. If we meet again, I’ll treat you as a stranger. Get in the car.”

Under the moonlight, Jian parked the car but didn’t rush home. Instead, he listened to Moon River in the air-conditioned car. Suddenly, he recalled Breakfast at Tiffany’s —Holly and Paul both striving to climb the social ladder, growing fond of each other amidst their struggles, gradually forgetting their pursuit of material desires. Even the movie featured a lost-and-found cat. When Qiu insisted on asking how Yu Zhimei was better than her, Jian realized it wasn’t necessary to compare girls using pros and cons. And as Qiu asked this question, Jian faintly noticed he hadn’t mentioned the disappearance of feelings for a long time.

That meant—he seemed to have liked Yu Zhimei all along. Without any tricks or excessive demands typical of romantic relationships, he had slowly accumulated feelings for Yu Zhimei, starting as neighbors, without letting them evaporate despite the changing weather.

At that moment, the phone rang. Yu Zhimei, seemingly lying in bed, said: “I drank ten bottles of sake with colleagues, and now my head hurts so much I can’t sleep. Where are you?”

“In the parking lot, just dropped Qiu Nuo off at the hotel. Are you getting bolder now, drinking with your wounds still fresh?”

“I’m tough. Qiu Nuo just said I don’t have any feminine hobbies.” Yu Zhimei deliberately burped: “Isn’t drinking a feminine hobby?”

“How did she end up at your place? I mean, why would she go to your apartment after you two fought?”

“Because in the corridor, she complained about the smell. But I think—she wanted to apologize to me, just couldn’t bring herself to lower her head. Jian Zhaowen—I’ve had a bad feeling for a while now, maybe that’s why I can’t sleep.”

“What is it?”

“The boss seems to have some major plans he hasn’t told us about.”

“Because of this?” Jian felt a twinge of jealousy: “She really never puts me first. I thought you’d be tossing and turning, worried I’d be taken away.”

Emotions seemed to flow more freely in the midnight. Jian heard the sound of a cat, and Yu Zhimei turned over in bed: “After breaking up with my ex-boyfriend early on, I reminded myself not to prioritize love anymore, otherwise I’d fall too hard. Now I’ve realized something new—not to take anything too seriously. Care a little less, and losing won’t hurt as much. Of course, I don’t mean to give you up to anyone else—it’s just that caring too much leaves no room for myself.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that unreliable of a man.”

“Then, do you want to come back and sleep with me? Full of alcohol breath, it’s quite soothing.”

“Obviously, you can’t sleep without me.”

“Fine. Can’t I admit that? You have fifteen minutes to get back, or I won’t wait.”

Neither of them mentioned the name “Qiu Nuo,” yet they seemed to understand everything. The night breeze was cool, and Jian Zhaowen ran along the empty path, reaching the neighborhood gate in five minutes. Yu Zhimei seemed to hear his footsteps and opened the door, colliding with his sweat-soaked embrace. Beneath her unhealed wound, two band-aids clung to her ribs, and she laughed as Jian rushed into the bathroom, forgetting to grab a towel, poking his head out for help. The two cats sat outside the door, their sounds gradually fading as they leaned against the doorframe and fell asleep, soon rolling onto their backs.

Chapter 81: Don’t Let Loving Me Be Your Only Flaw

Jian Zhaowen thought that perhaps there was a type of person in this world who cared about winning and surpassing others, and distinguishing victory from defeat could give themselves a reason to be convinced. Qiu Nuo, within this logic, simply couldn’t understand why her all-around perfection couldn’t compete with the imperfections of others. A girl as flawless as jade, loving him had become her only flaw.

While waiting in line, Jian Zhaowen received a message from Yu Zhimei saying she would be discharged from the hospital in the afternoon. He was earnestly arguing with Yu Zhimei about picking her up when a man in front of him caught his attention. The man had just hung up a call with a headhunter, dissatisfied with the salary and the job description, and had even sarcastically mocked the other party’s unprofessionalism as an HR representative, implying they couldn’t explain things clearly and probably didn’t live their own lives well. Jian Zhaowen turned his head to take a look. The man was revising his resume, a bachelor’s graduate with eight years of experience in Android development, and had added a sentence to his signature: “High salary requirement, serious inquiries only.”

Coincidence was that simple. Jian Zhaowen stood behind him, quietly observing. When the man placed his order, Jian Zhaowen proactively ordered the exact same mocha and muffin, and invited him to sit nearby. After chatting for a while, things progressed. The man had recently been marginalized by his company and was urgently looking for a new job. His home was nearby, so he didn’t want to commute too far. He was highly capable but struggled to find a new position due to a lack of connections. Jian Zhaowen offered him an annual salary of 500,000 yuan, with a start date on Monday and an 80% salary during the probation period. The man was married with a mortgage, so although his temper might be bad, his confidence wasn’t that strong. To support his family, his demands wouldn’t be too high. Moreover, living nearby meant he could easily work overtime. Even if he was a Shanghainese man, as long as he lived close and was paid for overtime, everything else was negotiable.

Jian Zhaowen and Lei Zheng had established a company policy: alternating work weeks (big week/small week), no holiday benefits, but double overtime pay. As long as efficiency was high and performance was good, stock options would be added in the second year. The performance-based agreement was like a ticking time bomb. Pragmatism was their top priority at the moment; they had no time for leisurely pastoral life. Walking upstairs, Jian Zhaowen was full of vigor. He sipped his coffee while looking at the content on “Day and Night.” The number of girls posting photos in the plaza had significantly increased, and the average number of likes had risen from around ten in the early days to one hundred. Looking at the backend statistics in the early morning, the user base was 44% male and 56% female. Although he knew various troubles would inevitably arise, at that moment, he just wanted to let out a heartfelt sigh of relief—he had succeeded in providing a place for the lonely people in the city to speak their minds.

The Day Zone and the Night Zone were two completely different scenes. The Day Zone still had paying users for matching (Lei Zheng’s promised three-month removal had passed by a week, but the payment window was still open). Most of them were still there to find love, and there were no shortage of handsome men and beautiful women enhanced by photo editing apps. On the other hand, the hidden users in the Night Zone, besides liking to expose companies, also liked to post their own misdeeds in the plaza: boys who had started relationships and then abandoned them, parents who felt guilty towards their children because they had found someone they liked outside, ugly girls who desired love but were insecure, and even minors confused about their gender and suffering because they liked the same sex... With the sudden increase in users, the universe Jian Zhaowen had created had glittering stars as well as dark matter hidden in gloomy corners. Opening the app, whether it was the Day or Night interface, the first screen displayed flowing nebulae. Opening each star revealed a love broadcast, each one moving Jian Zhaowen deeply. A colleague who came to work played Masaaki Kishibe’s “Song for 1310,” and Jian Zhaowen watched the scrolling planets, like watching the clouds gather and disperse in the night sky.

In the fourth year of his startup, Jian Zhaowen finally realized his dream. Although he had never felt he had achieved true success along the way, at least at this moment, he could temporarily believe that he had become a leading figure in social networking software. Fewer than ten similar apps had rapidly reached one million users, and “Day and Night” had no comparable competitors in terms of algorithm and product structure. Its momentum was frightening, even to him. Finishing the last sip of coffee, he turned off his phone screen, feeling unusually invigorated. Standing up, his vision went black for a moment due to lack of sleep. He needed to go home and get a good night’s rest. Then his phone vibrated. Li Yin had sent a message: “Day and Night is very good.”

Jian Zhaowen suddenly stood up, feeling as if wind was rushing past his ears, his whole body filled with energy, capable of running a marathon back to the city center. He called the three new colleagues over, full of spirit: “Let’s go, meeting time.”

Two centipede-like scars, newly healed and still frighteningly red like two new tattoos, ran beneath Yu Zhimei’s breasts. Yu Zhimei went to the company to hand over her work and was then dragged by colleagues to a barbecue. Stepping outside, the cold wind hit her face, and the taste in her mouth made her feel a bit nauseous. Even though she wasn’t even thirty yet, the cost of digesting every bite of meat seemed to have increased. A male colleague hailed a taxi, again forgetting to include Yu Zhimei—most of the time, colleagues lacked human touch, especially after starting families. Yu Zhimei bought a bottle of sparkling water at a convenience store, and feeling it wasn’t enough, she dug out two popsicles from the freezer, sucking on them as she walked home. Reaching her floor, she saw Qiu Nuo squatting at her door again—after Jian Zhaowen changed the lock, she couldn’t get in. Her appearance squatting in the damp hallway was truly pitiful. Seeing Qiu Nuo’s resentful expression, Yu Zhimei raised her hand and offered her the other popsicle: “Want to eat this?”

“No, I’m afraid of getting fat.”

“Oh.” Yu Zhimei took out her key to open the door, glanced back at Qiu Nuo sitting on the steps, and asked, “Want to come in for some air conditioning?”

“No, why should I be friends with you?”

“I have a cat.”

Qiu Nuo stood up and walked into the room. Entering the living room and smelling the cat litter, she frowned but endured it for the sake of the air conditioning. Yu Zhimei cleaned the cat litter. Seeing Qiu Nuo sitting in front of the air conditioner, vigorously sucking on the popsicle, while Lulu squatted beside her as if guarding its territory, Yu Zhimei went over, picked up the cat, sat on the sofa, and started playing on her phone, not really treating Qiu Nuo as a guest. Finally, Qiu Nuo took the initiative to speak: “It’s not that my opinion of you has really changed; it’s just that you saved my life, and I can’t bring myself to hate you.”

“Please, are you still thinking about that? I don’t even want to think about it anymore.”

“I also have a dog at home, enjoying the air conditioning every day, chewing on bone sticks and rabbit ears, and drinking imported milk.”

Yu Zhimei certainly knew that Jian Zhaowen had been upfront about his past relationship. She naturally wouldn’t bring these things up, only listening as Qiu Nuo recalled on her own: “When I used to live here, Yuni and Bobo were still at my friend’s place in Beijing. Jian Zhaowen said on the phone that he wanted to see the dogs, so I hired a car to bring Yuni and Bobo to Shanghai. He was incredibly moved but didn’t want to see me. We had personally picked out both dogs from the pet store and brought them home. Jian Zhaowen took care of walking and feeding them himself. But after the breakup, he completely ignored the one that remained. You can’t trust a man’s words.”

Yu Zhimei extracted some simple information: the little princess went all-in when in love and unleashed a barrage of arrows when she hated; her personality was also spoiled, having pet dogs was for entertainment, and Jian Zhaowen was responsible for all the complicated care. To confirm, she asked, “So, where is the remaining dog now?”

“At my parents’ house. It’s too much trouble; I don’t have time to deal with it.”

...How should she put it?

Qiu Nuo stretched out her legs and looked at her fingers: “Do you have any recommended nail salons? Around here in the mall would be fine, with an average price of over three hundred.”

“I don’t get manicures.”

Qiu Nuo looked at Yu Zhimei in surprise. Yu Zhimei held out the back of her hand. Qiu Nuo frowned: “How can you not have any girly hobbies?”

She certainly understood the contempt and incomprehension in Qiu Nuo’s eyes. She herself was an exquisitely beautiful girl from head to toe, while the other woman was unkempt, living next door to Jian Zhaowen and conveniently becoming his beloved. Such a good-looking boy’s love story should have emphasized everything from cinematography to costume and makeup, even the fingertips should have been carefully adorned, and it should have exuded a youthful, fragrant aura of a talented man and a beautiful woman. Five years ago, she might have felt inferior, but now she only found it laughable, almost like a third-rate movie today, where the cast to the costumes and filters were all perfect, but they didn’t bother to figure out how to tell a story, leaving it empty.

Footsteps came from next door. Qiu Nuo suddenly stood up and rushed out. The half-eaten popsicle she had been holding fell to the floor, melting and dirtying the floor on its own, as if Qiu Nuo hadn’t even eaten it properly. The cat jumped off Yu Zhimei’s lap, went to the popsicle, but Yu Zhimei snatched it away to clean up, leaving the cat to wander around the water stains, wagging its tail.

Just as he went upstairs, Jian Zhaowen heard the sound from 302. Smiling, he was about to open his arms when Qiu Nuo jumped out of the room excitedly, startling Jian Zhaowen into taking a step back. This retreat made Qiu Nuo a bit displeased: “What do you mean, Jian Zhaowen? Seeing that it’s me coming out of next door and not your girlfriend, are you disappointed?”

Jian Zhaowen sighed: “Can you stop making trouble?”

“Why is it always me making trouble? I came all the way to wait for you to get off work, and I didn’t even get angry about the embarrassing fact that you changed the lock.”

Jian Zhaowen looked at his watch, twelve forty-five. He sighed and went downstairs. Qiu Nuo anxiously called out, “Where are you going?”

“Taking you back to the hotel. Keep your voice down, the people on the first floor are all elderly.”

“No, I want to stay at your place. It’s so late, I don’t want to leave. I’m too tired.”

How could someone who doesn’t work be tired? Jian Zhaowen sighed: “Can you please stop making trouble? After I drop you off, I still need to work overtime at home.”

“Just let me stay one more night, the last night? I swear, after tonight, I won’t bother you again...”

“Really, please, stop making trouble.” Jian Zhaowen suddenly became serious: “Come downstairs with me, hurry up and go.”

Qiu Nuo suddenly went downstairs quietly. This was Jian Zhaowen’s once common, unyielding tone, used when he was at his breaking point. All the stubborn resistance in the air collapsed, and the damp, unsatisfactory atmosphere reasserted itself. The ground also became moist with the humid air of the summer night. She followed Jian Zhaowen humbly, watching his silent, slightly hunched figure, feeling only a silent rejection. How could Jian Zhaowen, who used to smile and joke with her, and gently stroke her with his warm hands, say he no longer loved her?

She stopped in her tracks: “Jian Zhaowen, stop for a moment.”

The person in front stopped and looked back at her with a hint of fatigue. Qiu Nuo couldn’t possibly fail to recognize the lack of love in Jian Zhaowen’s eyes. She even knew the unspoken words in his eyes were, “Not again.” They had had countless such tug-of-wars, like a game of tug-of-war pulling each other away from the center line. This game of高手过招 (masterful moves) was something she still missed deeply. She had once wanted to pull Jian Zhaowen forcefully to her side, embrace him closer, tighter, embedding him into her body, inseparable. For years, she had never understood why Jian Zhaowen would let go.

She asked tremblingly, “Jian Zhaowen, why don’t you love me?”

Jian Zhaowen never gave her the silent treatment. He walked back a few steps, stepping on his own shadow as he formulated his words: “You’ve asked me this question too many times. My feelings for you have been worn away by these repeated questions. Qiu Nuo, stop clinging to me. You deserve a good man who will treat you well. Don’t just think of me every time you get hurt. I’m a person too, and exhausting me isn’t fair to me.”

“What about Yu Zhimei? You’re so busy with work, why doesn’t she count as ‘exhausting’ you?”

His pace quickened again, and Qiu Nuo couldn’t keep up with Jian Zhaowen’s speed. To win back her former boyfriend, Qiu Nuo often wandered around Xintiandi in Shanghai, familiarizing herself with every street and alley, walking through the narrow lanes like blood flowing through every vein. Xintiandi was bustling with people day and night, but this road leading to the parking lot was unusually deserted, as if everyone couldn’t bear to witness her rejection. She couldn’t discern what kind of expression she was wearing as she faced Jian Zhaowen: “I only have one last question for you.”

“Go ahead.”

“What exactly is better about her than me? Why do you like her so much, pushing me away so decisively for her sake?”

Jian Zhaowen thought that perhaps there was a type of person in this world who cared about winning and surpassing others, and distinguishing victory from defeat could give themselves a reason to be convinced. Qiu Nuo, within this logic, simply couldn’t understand why her all-around perfection couldn’t compete with the imperfections of others. A girl as flawless as jade, loving him had become her only flaw. Thinking of this, he hardened his heart: “This is the last time I’m indulging your nonsense. If we meet again in the future, I’ll treat you like a stranger. Get in the car.”

Under the moonlight, Jian Zhaowen parked the car but didn’t rush home, hiding in the air conditioning to listen to “Moon River.” He suddenly thought of “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” Holly and Paul both wanted to climb the social ladder, and in their daily interactions, they cherished each other, gradually forgetting their pursuit of material desires. Even in the movie, there was a lost and found cat. Qiu Nuo insisted on asking what was better about Yu Zhimei than her. It wasn’t that Jian Zhaowen couldn’t say, but he felt it was unnecessary to compare girls by listing their pros and cons. And just as Qiu Nuo asked this question, Jian Zhaowen vaguely realized that he hadn’t mentioned the “disappearance of feelings” for a long time.

That is to say, he seemed to have liked Yu Zhimei all along until now. Without any of the usual romantic ploys or demands of girls, he had gradually accumulated his feelings for Yu Zhimei from being neighbors to the present, and not even the changing weather had diminished them in the slightest.

Thinking of this, his phone suddenly rang. Yu Zhimei seemed to be lying in bed: “I drank ten bottles of sake with my colleagues, and my head hurts so much I can’t sleep. Where are you?”

“In the parking lot, just dropped Qiu Nuo back at the hotel. You’re getting bolder now, drinking alcohol before your scars have even healed?”

“I’m tough. Qiu Nuo just said I don’t have any feminine hobbies.” Yu Zhimei deliberately let out a hiccup: “Isn’t drinking a feminine hobby?”

“Why was she at your place? I mean, why did she go to your house when you two even fought before?”

“Because she said it smelled bad in the hallway. But I think... she wanted to apologize to me, but it wasn’t easy for her to lower her head. Jian Zhaowen... I’ve had a bad feeling all along, maybe that’s why I can’t sleep now.”

“What is it?”

“It seems like the boss has some major plans he hasn’t told us about.”

“Because of that?” Jian Zhaowen was a little jealous: “You really never put me first. I thought you couldn’t sleep because you were afraid of me being snatched away.”

Late night seemed particularly prone to releasing emotions. Jian Zhaowen heard a meow, and Yu Zhimei turned over: “After breaking up with my ex-boyfriend very early on, I reminded myself not to put relationships first again, otherwise it’s easy to fall too hard. But now I’ve realized a new truth: nothing needs to be taken too seriously. If you care and take things a little seriously, you’ll be sad when you lose them. Of course, I don’t mean to give you away to someone else, it’s just—caring too much means I lose myself.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that unreliable of a man either.”

“Then, do you want to come back and sleep with me? I’m full of the smell of alcohol, it’s very sleep-inducing.”

“Clearly, you can’t sleep without me.”

“Alright, alright. I admit it, okay? You have fifteen minutes to come back, any later and I won’t wait for you.”

Neither of them mentioned the name “Qiu Nuo,” yet they both seemed to understand everything. The night breeze was slightly cool. Jian Zhaowen ran along the deserted path, entering the apartment complex gate in five minutes. As if she had heard his voice, Yu Zhimei opened the door and collided with his sweaty embrace. Yu Zhimei, whose wounds hadn’t fully healed, had two bandages under her ribs. She smiled as she watched Jian Zhaowen slip into the bathroom and then forget to bring a towel, poking his head out for help. The two cats sat outside the door, their sounds gradually becoming muffled. They leaned against the door and fell asleep on their own, soon turning onto their backs.