Chapter Seventy-Seven: A Dual Visit

The National Day holiday passed swiftly. Seven days, like seven drops of water scattered into the Pacific, barely stirring a ripple, as if they had never happened, as if they never existed.

After his wounds healed, Qiao Siming chose to stay on and care for Tang Dai. Upon learning that he had been injured saving Tang Dai, Xunyuan agreed to his request.

Every development in life is accompanied by a catalyst; for Qiao Siming, Tang Dai was his spark. For her, he went mad, he raged, he lost himself.

Perhaps it was worth it, perhaps it was not. Yet in a lifetime, there must be something to look forward to—those moments of frenzy, passion, and wildness are the brightest, most fervent sparks in a stage of existence.

Qiao Siming lived exactly in this way.

And not only him: Su Yishu, Xu Shixi, Yan Lu, Lu Xugao... they too burned their lives for love.

Tang Dai’s injuries had nearly healed; she could walk about freely. Yet this piece of good news was hers alone. Doctors could not precisely assess a patient's recovery.

She sat in a wheelchair, Tang Chao pushing her through the hospital’s rear garden, watching the autumn unfold, its beauty declining amidst withered yellow.

Even falling is a force of life.

Tang Dai almost broke free from the wheelchair’s restraint, longing to stand, to soar and embrace the wonder mingling in the air.

But she restrained herself.

Qiao Siming followed at a distance, not daring to come close. He feared provoking Tang Chao. To glimpse her from afar was enough to satisfy his heart’s desire.

Tang Dai folded her right hand back, grasping Tang Chao’s, “Tang Chao, National Day passed several days ago. Is it really alright for you not to attend school?”

Tang Chao paused, then continued pushing her slowly ahead. University was tasteless and dull to him. Originally, he planned to drift through its shadow in a haze, but now, he had changed his mind—to step on its tail, leap ahead in the final moments, and thus fulfill his purpose.

He did not stay solely for Tang Dai; after she escaped death, he’d wanted to leave. His sister was a stranger among kin, a familiar stranger. It was not hatred or resentment, only a lack of closeness and the warmth accumulated over long years.

Tang Dai’s attitude towards Tang Chao was hard to grasp; sometimes she cared for him, sometimes she spoke up for him when Tang Jingguo punished him. Whether her words had effect was not her concern.

Tang Chao had always been grateful for Tang Dai’s protection as a child; his young heart grew in a single direction like a seedling breaking through the earth. But as he matured, he branched out in many directions. Those branches and leaves, representing neural pathways, carried vigorous new thoughts, making simple feelings no longer pure.

“A few days late won’t kill me,” Tang Chao replied, unmoved by Tang Dai’s simplistic question.

“You should change your attitude,” Tang Dai said, deliberately feigning weakness.

“My temper’s always been like this. Same as the old man.” Tang Chao ran his fingers through his thick black hair, pressing it back. “Not like you didn’t know!”

“With that attitude even towards me, no wonder Dad scolds you all the time.” Tang Dai shook her head, sighing.

“My dear sister, I’m already polite to you. If it were that old man, after two sentences—no, less than two—he’d flip the roof.” Tang Chao scratched his head. “He and I are incompatible. Avoiding him is my filial duty; that way, he can live to a ripe old age. Otherwise, he might just get angry and drop dead.”

“What nonsense is that?” Tang Dai was so angry she nearly leapt up, “He’s our father, whether you love him or not, at least don’t curse him!”

Tang Chao sneered, thinking to himself, I never cursed him; I’d rather he lived a thousand years, so he could suffer my attitude every day. When he scolds me, he’s pleased. When he’s angry, I’m pleased.

“Alright, you two, stop bickering.” Qiao Siming approached to mediate, holding two cups of hot drinks.

During their pause, he’d gone to the hospital entrance’s milk tea shop and bought them drinks. National Day had ruthlessly stolen the last remnants of summer warmth. The temperature had slipped into the refrigerator, turning cold ahead of the winter.

“Always around!” Tang Chao eyed him sideways. “Keep it for yourself; I don’t drink girly stuff.”

“Don’t say that—he saved me, after all,” Tang Dai reached out to take the drink.

“Guess I’m meddling, then,” Tang Chao stared at her teasingly, “You’re not about to fall for him, are you? Planning to pledge yourself in gratitude?”

Tang Dai was startled by Tang Chao’s sudden words, her eyes wide, her expression pale, her gaze almost spilling from their sockets.

A faint blush crept onto Qiao Siming’s face. Yet in the next moment, as Tang Dai firmly denied Tang Chao’s suspicion, the blush faded, swallowed by the encroaching dusk.

Night arrived early.

Tang Dai’s feelings for Qiao Siming were elusive and hard to define—a vague, subtle presence. When she learned he was Xu Shixi’s classmate, friend, and roommate, she had him act as messenger between them. She would have him remind Xu Shixi to eat, to dress warmly in cold weather, to take meals on time… a litany of instructions passed through the cable in between, the current burning within, scorching his heart.

Qiao Siming endured the pain with a kind of joy.

Until one day, a short circuit occurred—the cable intercepted a current not meant for him, and all three suffered for it.

When Qiao Siming pushed Tang Dai to the ward’s door, he saw Xu Shixi and Su Yishu at the reception desk, inquiring after her whereabouts.

Tang Chao eagerly greeted them, “Yishu, you’re here. It’s been a while.”

Su Yishu hid behind Xu Shixi, forcing a faint smile.

“At last you’ve come to see me!” Tang Dai’s tone was cold. Since waking, she’d seen mostly Qiao Siming and Tang Chao; Xu Shixi hadn’t even bothered to call. Yet she could not bring herself to hate him—his indifference couldn’t douse her inner flame.

“The company leadership sent me to visit,” Xu Shixi replied calmly. Years of navigating the business world had honed every response.

“Oh?” Tang Dai forced a smile uglier than tears. “Is that so? And the one behind you—is she also a senior executive of Xunyuan, a shareholder?”

“She—” Xu Shixi couldn’t answer.

“I want to hear her reply,” Tang Dai pressed Su Yishu, the embers in her ashes ready to burst into flame.

“I came with my boyfriend. I hope there’s no misunderstanding,” Yishu replied with calm dignity.

“You came to laugh at me, didn’t you?” Tang Dai’s eyes flickered with restless fire.

“Is it really so funny?” Yishu widened her eyes, feigning confusion. “Is it worth the trip for a joke?”

Tang Dai was cornered by Yishu’s seamless retort. Playing the wounded heroine, she could not unleash her full arsenal. In public, she had to maintain at least a semblance of grace. Even venom needed to be wrapped in elegant words—so, while still wounding, her image remained intact.

In fact, during Tang Dai’s first days of unconsciousness, Xu Shixi had visited her in the hospital, though only briefly, coming and going in a rush. He had also had some candid words with the unexpectedly distant Qiao Siming.

After hearing Xu Shixi’s heartfelt, sincere confession, Qiao Siming’s stubborn resentment was temporarily sealed away somewhere unseen. Their friendship, for a time, would continue; it was too soon for a rupture.

“Shixi, have your girlfriend say a little less,” Qiao Siming almost pleaded. “Tang Dai is still a patient.”

“No need,” Su Yishu cut him off, “I’ll wait outside; I can’t stand the smell of disinfectant here.”

“I’ll go too,” Tang Chao abandoned Tang Dai, following Yishu into the elevator around the corner.

Tang Dai watched Tang Chao leave, feeling disappointment, anger, and yet happiness. Strictly speaking, disappointment and anger together could not equal half her happiness.

That day, after learning of Tang Chao’s feelings for Yishu, her brief surprise quickly settled into calm. Her brother’s taste in women was always unpredictable—sometimes mature and bold, sometimes innocent and pure. This time, it was an older professional woman.

Setting aside rivalry, objectively speaking, Yishu’s looks were above average. Compared to the crowd of heavily made-up women, she was truly fresh and refined.

No wonder Xu Shixi loved her so deeply.

A pool of clear water could never mingle with a stagnant pond; a gentle breeze would not merge with a raging storm.

Tang Dai had once asked Tang Chao why he liked Yishu—was it out of revenge, sacrifice, or simply to fill a psychological void?

Tang Chao stood straight, like a new individual. Facing the sunset, his back to her, he said, “Liking her may be my mission. I must fulfill it.”