Chapter 53 Long Time No See
Xiang Sun and Song Xu met in college. Back then, they were in the same circle of international students. Although they didn’t attend the same classes, they roughly knew each other’s names. Later, Song Xu nearly sued the entire college for Zhu Qiwei’s sake, which made him famous in one fell swoop.
Nowadays, the widespread stereotype of Asian international students abroad is that they are high-achieving and ultra-competitive, but that’s not entirely true. At that time, many of the students in Xiang Sun’s batch relied on some family money and spent their days screwing around at school. Coincidentally, Zhu Qiwei’s class had the most of such students, and they happened to have a strict, by-the-book German professor who harbored a deep-seated dislike for Asians. He felt that they were traveling across the ocean to attend classes but not studying seriously, which was a waste of life.
Zhu Qiwei had been something of a top student in high school, but when she first went abroad, she was a little distracted by the freedom of her new life. She went out with a few Korean girls from her dorm a few times, and her attendance took a hit. It just so happened that it was the end of the semester, and the professor wanted to make an example out of someone. He harshly criticized her in class and flunked her—the only one in the class that semester.
"Well, Germans—what can you do?" Xiang Sun said with a shrug.
Zhu Qiwei was a prideful person who had been used to being adored since childhood. Suddenly being humiliated in front of so many people and failing the course was too much for her to bear. She shut herself in her dorm room and refused to come out.
At the time, Zhu Qiwei and Song Xu were going through a breakup, but as former lovers, the news quickly reached him. He asked around and found out that while Zhu Qiwei’s attendance was poor, her coursework and final paper were both perfectly fine. Moreover, during that same year and the next, most of the students who had failed under that professor were Chinese. For example, the Korean girls Zhu Qiwei had gone out with hadn’t even submitted their coursework, yet they all passed.
"He went directly to the professor and demanded an apology for Zhu Qiwei. The professor refused, saying, 'If you dare provoke me, I’ll make sure you’re expelled.' But the threat backfired—it set off Song Xu’s rebellious side. He immediately started collecting evidence of the German professor’s racial discrimination on international student forums. As it turned out, the German professor had a history of shady behavior. Once Song Xu started investigating, many former students who had suffered under him came forward with clues and evidence. The online uproar grew so loud that even the dean of the faculty took note and personally asked Song Xu what he wanted. Song Xu didn’t beat around the bush. He made two demands: first, the professor must apologize to Zhu Qiwei and regrade her work fairly; second, the faculty must publicly reflect on the incident and guarantee that no such discriminatory behavior would occur again from any professor, or else he would reserve the right to sue the professor and even the entire faculty at any time. Wow, Song Xu made that semester a breeze for everyone! Almost every Chinese international student was raving about him. The faculty even awarded him an honorary medal, praising his courageous and fearless actions for accelerating the fight against discrimination within the faculty."
Even now, Xiang Sun speaks of this with immense admiration, slapping his thigh in regret, saying that if he had known Song Xu earlier, this incident might have been his ticket to fame as well.
Wen Bairan was both shocked and felt somewhat adrift upon hearing this.
She guessed that after this incident, Song Xu and Zhu Qiwei must have gotten back together. After all, who wouldn’t be moved by such a dramatic act of going to war for a loved one?
Who would have thought that someone as aloof as Song Xu could also be so passionate as to take on the world for one person?
She asked Xiang Sun, "Was Zhu Qiwei beautiful?"
Xiang Sun gave her a "what do you think?" look, paused, and said, "Don’t feel discouraged. Zhu Qiwei was the most beautiful international student in our circle at the time. Do you understand what 'the most' means?"
He didn’t use many flowery words to describe her—he couldn’t. In short, she was beautiful.
Wen Bairan’s mind instantly conjured an image of a stunning beauty: skin like ice, bones like jade, graceful and captivating.
Xiang Sun said it was about right, but added, "You’re not bad either. She’s a bird of paradise blooming by the sea, and you’re a water lily growing in the water. You’re just not the same type."
Wen Bairan was stunned, only then realizing that her disappointment had been so obvious that Xiang Sun felt the need to comfort her.
But upon reflection, it wasn’t hard to understand.
Song Xu was as cold as ice, and she didn’t dare approach him easily. After hesitating for a long time, she had just gotten up the nerve to reach out when she heard that there was a fire hidden within the ice—a fire that didn’t burn for anyone else.
Her disappointment wasn’t because she realized she was just a passerby to him, but because, at some point, she had started to see their encounter as something special.
This was a bad habit.
She needed to change it.
Xiang Sun hadn’t originally planned to tell her so much, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. "Back then, there were many, many, many people chasing after Zhu Qiwei. Just the ones I knew numbered over twenty. Of course, there were plenty chasing Song Xu too. But you know, he’s like a cold-faced killing god. Unless you genuinely liked him, who could endure his year-round, indiscriminate freezing attacks? Zhu Qiwei had dated him before, so she knew how to handle him. After that incident, she settled down, dutifully accompanying Song Xu to the library and study rooms. Occasionally, they’d go on outings, and she’d prepare all the food in advance—all his favorites. Back then, we were all incredibly jealous. Zhu Qiwei—a goddess! The goddess had descended to earth to make soup for Song Xu at home!"
He clicked his tongue as he spoke.
Back then, they were the golden couple of the school, recognized by everyone from the professors who taught them to the newly enrolled underclassmen. Wherever they went, they seemed to carry an ethereal, drama-like aura.
Xiang Sun had even joked that there was no need to watch Korean dramas anymore—they could just watch the two of them in their daily real-life show.
Zhu Qiwei felt shy upon hearing this, followed by a sense of melancholy. Xiang Sun didn’t understand what they had to be melancholy about when they were so deeply in love. She meaningfully said, "Not all Korean dramas have happy endings."
Xiang Sun thought she was worrying over nothing. Isn’t it said that the more you have, the more you fear losing? Zhu Qiwei was a typical example of this overly sentimental mindset.
Later, he repeated this to Song Xu, teasing him about whether he had failed to give her enough sense of security, making her so anxious. If that was the case, he could take him to the medical school to get a rejuvenation pill, guaranteeing he’d be back in form overnight.
Song Xu shot him a cold glance, looking very displeased.
Xiang Sun thought he was upset about the joke, but in reality, Song Xu didn’t care about Zhu Qiwei’s melancholy or the nonsense Xiang Sun was spouting. He was just annoyed that Xiang Sun had sat on the research materials he had painstakingly collected.
...Xiang Sun shuddered, thinking to himself that only someone as lovesick as Zhu Qiwei could put up with this guy. But then again, that didn’t seem right—would someone truly lovesick say something like "not all Korean dramas have happy endings"?
Back then, they were all just in their early twenties, still confused about matters of the heart. Xiang Sun, adopting a live-for-the-moment attitude, neither pondered nor engaged with so-called love. It was only after seeing how sweet Song Xu and Zhu Qiwei were that he felt tempted to experience it himself, so he dated a red-haired senior. As for whether it was sweet or not—well, let’s just say he later had no time to stick his nose in others’ business.
After that, he heard they had broken up.
Just when everyone thought Song Xu and Zhu Qiwei would get married right after graduation, news came that Zhu Qiwei was engaged—to a minor heir in the jewelry industry.
Xiang Sun had met the guy. His family was wealthy, but he was nothing special—not as tall or as handsome as Song Xu. But everyone who met him said he loved Zhu Qiwei to the bone, to the point of being willing to bend over backwards for her.
Xiang Sun had no fondness for such undignified simps. Maybe it was because he was biased toward Song Xu, but he stubbornly believed that Song Xu and Zhu Qiwei were the perfect match, and anyone else would always fall short.
He asked around about the reason for their breakup, dying to know who had initiated it. He bet a hundred dollars it was Song Xu.
A junior took his money and told him it was Zhu Qiwei. She wanted to get married; Song Xu didn’t. So they broke up.
Wen Bairan instinctively asked, "Why didn’t he want to?"
Xiang Sun shrugged. "Just graduated, no solid footing. No matter how good his family was, it was still his family’s. Plus, they were both so young, still unsettled, and uncertain about what lay ahead. Who knew if marriage would just lead to a mess?"
Wen Bairan drifted into thought, her lowered eyelashes fluttering. The Eggs Benedict on her plate had been poked into a mush without her noticing.
"Uncertain about the future" sounded like a very practical reason.
But somehow, it didn’t seem like it should apply to Song Xu.
A person like him, aside from his superiority, possessed the most control over his life, didn’t he?
Sure enough.
Xiang Sun, seeing she believed it, added with a grin, "This is all just my guess."
...Yeah, some guess.
A guess so far off the mark.
Wen Bairan shot him a look, "Didn’t you ask him?"
"I did, but he wouldn’t say," Xiang Sun replied. His coffee was almost finished, so he ordered another cup, wondering if he should get one for Song Xu too. Hmm, better not. Song Xu had said he’d never drink coffee again. If he brought him one, Song Xu might just throw it in his face. Ugh.
What wouldn’t he do?
It was precisely because he was capable of anything that some people who had rooted for him and Zhu Qiwei thought he would crash Zhu Qiwei’s wedding.
But oddly enough, he only drank to numb the pain.
Well, it wasn’t exactly drowning his sorrows.
That day happened to be their department’s graduation ceremony. Afterward, a group of them went out for drinks. He remained composed throughout, without a hint of being upset. Xiang Sun, as an outsider who tagged along, had the privilege of attending and witnessed Song Xu leaving the bar, turning into a corner store, buying a bag of beers, and going back to continue drinking.
It was Xiang Sun’s first time in Song Xu’s dorm, and it was freakishly clean.
Song Xu told him to sit anywhere, but as luck would have it, he ended up sitting on a photo frame Zhu Qiwei had left behind.
The photo inside the frame had vanished without a trace, leaving only a retro-patterned frame with an empty backing.
It wasn’t large, but it was oddly jarring.
At the bottom, flowery script was engraved with Vivian and Song’s English names.
Vivian&Song
Xiang Sun, holding the photo album he’d fished out from between the couch cushions, felt so awkward he wanted to jump off a building. He guessed he was the first to know the two had lived together, and given Song Xu’s strictly compartmentalized personality, he wasn’t sure if he’d end up silenced permanently.
Song Xu came out of the kitchen carrying cups, his cold eyes just skimmed over the frame in his hand, and he said coldly, "Throw it away."
His indifference was extreme, like the stubborn refusal to admit hurt after being wounded.
Xiang Sun was suddenly overcome with an impulse to console him properly that night.
"We drank from dark until daylight. In between, I went down twice to buy more alcohol, and he went once. He came back with a pack of cigarettes and a business card with a red lip print. Damn it! When I go out, it’s just errands, but when he goes downstairs, it’s a romantic encounter. Don’t you think that’s annoying?" At this point, Xiang Sun really wanted a cigarette. He glanced around, but the no-smoking sign on the wall crushed his budding desire.
Wen Bairan could understand his frustration and helplessness. Life was sometimes just this unfair—what you worked so hard to achieve might only be a fraction of what others let slip through their fingers. Everyone only lives once, so why does it feel like some are just playing make-believe while others struggle through hell?
Xiang Sun went on to say they talked about a lot that night—from stars to the moon, from academics to work, from this life to the next. He never imagined he’d discuss such things with another guy, and even more surprisingly, it didn’t feel pretentious but rather suddenly clear and thrilling.
Song Xu said that from ancient times to the present, birth, aging, sickness, and death have been eternal subjects for humanity. Even now, while birth, aging, and death remain beyond control, sickness is something people can try to combat. Xiang Sun disagreed, asking how birth couldn’t be controlled? Condoms, the pill, abortions—aren’t these ways to control reproduction? Song Xu shook his head, saying that’s for the mother, not the child in the womb.
He said a lot more, some of which Xiang Sun only half-understood or couldn’t remember, but that night he decided to enter the medical field with Song Xu.
"What I remember most are two sentences: 'You can’t just do what you’re capable of, especially when you’ve already achieved what you’re capable of,' and 'Whatever you do, do it to the best of your ability. If you can’t, find a way to make it happen.'" Xiang Sun still remembered how Song Xu looked when he said those words. The moon over the Los Angeles suburbs was like a wild plain, its light rolling with overwhelming waves, stirring and awe-inspiring. Song Xu stood high, carelessly yet firmly looking down on it all.
"He was like a king, an emperor, God—you get it? It felt like whatever he said would definitely come true."
Xiang Sun sighed, "That’s the highest level a man can reach. Ah, he’s the only one I respect in this lifetime."
Wen Bairan could picture the scene he described, but they seemed to have gone off-topic. Wasn’t that day supposed to be about Vivian’s wedding? They talked all night but never mentioned Vivian. Was that a form of avoidance?
Up until now, her perception of him kept being updated.
Just when she thought aloofness and bitterness were his defining traits, she unexpectedly discovered his loneliness.
She thought he was inherently unfeeling—no matter how well he handled human-computer interaction, it couldn’t make up for his inability to love. But hearing about him and his first love today made her realize he could go to such lengths for someone else.
The contrast was too much to take in all at once.
Wen Bairan felt dizzy, as if listening further might plunge her into another layer of ever-changing illusion. She wasn’t sure she could find her way back and hesitated about stopping Xiang Sun, but it was already too late.
Xiang Sun said the only time Vivian was mentioned that night, Song Xu was as calm as a monk, with an enlightened detachment that made it seem like he’d seen through worldly attachments and extricated himself from it.
He finished his last can of beer, facing the gradually rising dawn outside the window like a wise man about to attain enlightenment.
"Vivian said I didn’t love her. I thought about it, and if we go by her standards, it seems I really never did love her."
Xiang Sun couldn’t tell if his tone was one of relief or confusion—or maybe neither. In any case, as Song Xu said, he’d never considered the question. Love or not, such subjective feelings differ wildly from person to person.
If the person being loved says they can’t feel it, is there any stronger proof?
Since Vivian said he didn’t love her, then he didn’t.
/
The car was warm like spring.
Wen Bairan’s eyes watched the autumn leaves outside the window, but the person beside her seemed to be in a perpetual winter.
Maybe the distinctness of the four seasons could apply here too?
She liked the golden rain tree.
She liked its lushness in spring and summer, its turning red in autumn, the lonely joy of its trembling leaves whether day or night.
This time, the car’s light was on. Song Xu rested his arm on the window ledge, staring distractedly at the street on the other side.
The harborside area was nice.
Quiet at night, with the distant murmur of the river in the background.
He still hadn’t told Wen Bairan he’d bought a house here.
No opportunity, and no need.
Her own little place made her more relaxed, and he liked seeing her at ease.
A change of environment might not offer the same experience.
He never believed fate had everything planned out, but sometimes it was necessary to follow the current.
The two sat in the car for two hours without saying a word.
The tranquil atmosphere was like a special understanding between them; even without speaking, they could sense each other’s presence—a kind of gentle, subtle sweetness.
But if you examined this sweetness closely, you could still detect a hint of pungent pepperiness.
Very faint.
Almost imperceptible.
But if sweetness was the standard, this subtle taste seemed somewhat out of place.
Wen Bairan watched the moon rise to mid-air and suddenly spoke.
"Honestly, you’re not using me as a substitute for Vivian, are you?"
As soon as she asked, she found it amusing and pursed her lips and smiled first.
This wasn’t a drama; that kind of tragic romance probably didn’t exist between her and Song Xu.
No love, no pain.
Even if there were, they were both adults.
The best thing about Song Xu was that he never minced words. If he wanted something, he said so; compromise wasn’t an option for him.
But then again, you never could tell.
After all, before hearing about him and Vivian, she never thought he was the type to go to such lengths for a woman.
Xiang Sun said he was protective—he could bully his own people, but outsiders couldn’t.
Whatever he thought, if Wen Bairan were Vivian, she’d probably love him desperately for a time too.
Putting herself in her place, she suddenly understood a lot—like why schedule the wedding on the day of his graduation ceremony?
Because she knew he prioritized his career, so it was understandable he wouldn’t disrupt the wedding.
Although this thought was quite childish, it was at least easier to accept than the explanation that he truly didn't love her.
Wen Bairan had just reached this point in her reflections when the man in the driver's seat turned his head, still puzzled by her earlier question.
"Substitute?"
He had no idea where she had gotten that word from—it clearly couldn't be further from the truth. "The only similarity between you and her is your name."
Wen Bairan nodded and said she thought the same.
The image of the woman described by Xiang Sun was still fresh in her mind. She told herself she wasn't that beautiful, and besides, Zhu Qiwei's liveliness and cheerfulness were qualities she could never imitate.
Wait, why should she even try to imitate her?
......Wen Bairan felt she was overthinking again.
Song Xu said he had started forgetting what Zhu Qiwei looked like years ago.
Wen Bairan didn’t believe him. "There’s no need to sweet-talk me. I’m not that fragile."
"Why would I sweet-talk you?"
"You don’t seem like the type who needs coaxing to be soothed."
"Wen Bairan." He called her name.
Before saying it, he paused very briefly, probably to avoid her associating it with Zhu Qiwei. Song Xu’s gaze was somewhat complex, a mix of pleasure and something unclear, as he gazed intently at her. "Do you care about what she left behind with me?"
Wen Bairan felt he was asking a question he already knew the answer to.
They had not only slept together, but he had also confessed his feelings. Although she had rejected him, she later tacitly allowed him to come and go from her home.
Even Xiang Sun referred to her as his girlfriend; it's probable he must have mentioned it in front of him.
Given that, wasn’t it perfectly normal for her to care?
She retorted, "Don’t you care about what Zhou Lin left with me?"
His eyes subtly tightened, and it took a moment for them to soften again.
"I understand."
Song Xu said in a low voice.
"But I don’t love her now."
Wen Bairan was slightly stunned. The bright light in the car made the fleeting flicker in her eyes transparently clear.
His gaze gradually turned frosty, resting on her long, curled eyelashes, which trembled almost imperceptibly.
"How can you prove it?" Wen Bairan’s heart was racing. It wasn’t that she particularly expected or urgently wanted to know the answer—it was more of an instinctive reaction. During company meetings, she often found her heart speeding up under Song Xu’s silent gaze, afraid he would suddenly throw a difficult question her way.
She took a soft breath. "Put it another way—how will you prove that you’ve fallen in love with me? I mean, you don’t even understand what love is. You clearly loved Zhu Qiwei deeply."
Song Xu’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He said coldly, "How to prove it?"
Zhu Qiwei had already concluded that he didn’t love her—so how had she arrived at the idea that he loved her deeply?
These questions were actually pointless. It was just that, after hearing those things from Xiang Sun, she felt somewhat unbalanced. That was fine; he was even glad she felt this way.
At the very least, it proved she wasn’t completely indifferent to him.
For the first time, Song Xu cared so much about whether someone had feelings for him.
His gaze warmed.
In Wen Bairan’s speechless state, he leaned over and touched her cheek, flushed from the warm air, gently planting a kiss. "Alright, let’s set aside these complicated questions for now. Today is your birthday."
Wen Bairan was taken aback.
She had forgotten all about it.
She seemed to have received a birthday message on WeChat from Ms. Xie in the morning, but it was quickly buried by other messages. She probably hadn’t had time to read it.
"Happy birthday, my Vivi." He took out the prepared gift and placed it in her palm.
Outside the car, the night wind grew colder. The lit-up DBX resembled a shooting star in the darkness.
Through the front window, Wen Bairan’s slightly surprised face looked exquisitely beautiful.
Song Xu kissed her forehead and lips, saying something that made her happy. She smiled and returned the gesture with a kiss on his cheek.
He got out of the car to open the door for her, and the two embraced in front of the car. It seemed they had no intention of going upstairs together.
A figure lurking in the shadows of the hallway retreated deeper into darkness.
Wen Bairan stood on the steps, watching his car disappear from view. As she turned around, an embrace carrying a slightly choking chill suddenly pulled her into the darkness.
Her heart pounded like a drum, and she widened her eyes forcefully. In the darkness, the pair of intense black eyes before her made her freeze in shock.
The person who had been waiting all night spoke in a voice already hoarse beyond recognition.
Zhou Lin forced a faint smile, a trace of devout restraint flickering in his eyes as he dared not overstep any boundaries. "Long time no see."
"Happy birthday."