Blue Cocktail chapter 18

Half an hour later, Lu Huaiqian slowly descended from the upper floor. His expression reverted to the usual carefree and indifferent appearance, as if nothing had happened—

But just a while ago, in the upstairs bathroom, stacks of tissue paper were repeatedly pulled out, then crumpled up. The frosted glass door obscured any restrained movements and suppressed breaths. As a result, the person in the bedroom was left sleeping soundly, undisturbed as he wished.

With not many customers at the moment, Aru found a moment to initiate a conversation with Lu Huaiqian, “Boss.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I suddenly remembered, didn’t you say before that Cheng Shuo would definitely call the bar’s front desk?” Aru recalled, his tone somewhat disappointed, “It’s been several days, but I haven’t received any call.”

Regarding this, Lu Huaiqian couldn’t help but boast, “He did call, just that he used my personal number.”

“Ah?” Aru was shocked, “How did he know your personal number?”

Lu Huaiqian smiled mysteriously and smugly, “Pure coincidence.”

Considering that Lu Huaiqian had received a bouquet of flowers and even personally carried the person upstairs, Aru commented sourly, “Boss, you’re making remarkable progress.”

Lu Huaiqian raised his lips and didn’t deny it, letting Aru continue to misunderstand.

But in his mind, he cursed, progress my foot, we’ve only just become friends today.

As there were no customers in the bar at that moment, Lu Huaiqian went upstairs, taking some free time. He took out the cherished bouquet that Cheng Shuo had given him. He held it against a white wall and the light and snapped several photos. No matter how you looked at it, the bouquet looked beautiful, the color combinations were perfect, and the photos he took were also wonderful. So, wonderful that even setting it as his wallpaper wasn’t enough. Lu Huaiqian opened WeChat and posted an uncommon moment on his timeline, setting the audience to be visible only to Cheng Shuo.

Despite being reluctant, he dismantled the bouquet. He took out a white rose and used scissors to cut the stem diagonally. This increased the surface area of the stem for contact with water, making the fresh flowers last a bit longer.

He carefully trimmed all the stems. He then took out a clear glass vase that had been collecting dust in the storage room and went to the kitchen to fill it with water.

The kitchen window faced north and didn’t let in much light, so Lu Huaiqian switched on the ceiling light. Then, methodically, he inserted the flowers one by one into the vase. Occasionally, he adjusted the angle of the bottom of the vase to examine the overall harmony or rearranged the relative positions of the flowers.

He seemed to be arranging an art exhibition rather than flowers. After much fiddling, when the cumbersome process ended, Lu Huaiqian slowly held the glass vase filled with flowers and returned to the balcony, only to find that the sky had turned dark.

Outside, the clouds thickened even more, slowly descending, looming ominously, a boundless feeling of oppression. Heavy rain fell relentlessly, forming a white, colossal barrier that stood tall against the roaring winds.

“Looking at this weather, probably no one will want to go out,” Aru said cheerfully to Zhao Ge, “That’s actually not bad; it’ll be a bit quieter tonight.”

However, Zhao Ge replied, “Not necessarily, the heavy rain comes suddenly, and the departures might be just as abrupt.”

“But I can see the trend; there might even be a thunderstorm.”

As the words fell, a sudden loud noise echoed.

“Rumble—”

Aru was taken aback.

After the thunder passed, he turned to Zhao Ge. Despite feeling a bit frightened, his tone was somewhat smug, “You see, I was right. It’s really thundering, and I think the rain will continue.”

Thunder.

Lu Huaiqian suddenly remembered something. He turned and hurriedly walked away, a bit uncharacteristically panicked in his steps.

This reaction puzzled Zhao Ge, “Where are you going?”

Without looking back, Lu Huaiqian, with a serious expression, replied, “To the second floor. I need to handle something. Don’t come up.”

He walked with an uncommon sense of urgency, only slowing down when he reached the bedroom door. He stopped just in time, not rushing into the room—

In case Cheng Shuo was still sleeping. Disturbing a sleeping person wasn’t appropriate.

Lu Huaiqian adjusted his fast breaths, placed his hand on the door, gently pushed it open—

In the dim lighting, a small hill was formed in the bedding, and the person who had been sleeping was now sitting, arms around knees. As he heard the door open, he slowly raised his head.

“You’re back?” Cheng Shuo’s voice resounded.

Lu Huaiqian’s lips moved to respond, but Cheng Shuo continued, his tone utterly plain, almost as if he were going to dissipate into the wind at any moment.

“Weren’t you the one who wanted me to fend for myself?”

What?

Lu Huaiqian furrowed his brows in confusion, reaching for the switch behind the wardrobe, but the light didn’t come on. It seemed the circuit had tripped again. In the current situation, it wasn’t appropriate to leave, so he didn’t flip the circuit breaker. Instead, he ventured into the darkness, trying to find Cheng Shuo’s voice.

Then he noticed Cheng Shuo’s gaze fixed firmly in his direction. Whether it was due to the dim lighting, Cheng Shuo’s irises seemed covered with a hazy gray fog, dull and lifeless.

“Is it because you suddenly realized that if I died, you couldn’t afford the funeral expenses?”

No, Lu Huaiqian suddenly had an epiphany. Cheng Shuo wasn’t talking to him; it wasn’t from the very first sentence.

Cheng Shuo was looking through him.

But at who?

With this thought in mind, there was another sudden clap of thunder.

“Rumble—”

Cheng Shuo’s figure shook, and he huddled deeper into the bedding, his eyes cast downward. Lu Huaiqian quickly took a few steps forward and sat down on the bed.

As he got closer, he could clearly see the emotions in Cheng Shuo’s eyes, woven together like a spider’s web, dense and firmly attached to his eyeballs. They were fear, despair, and perhaps… hatred?

Lu Huaiqian attempted to speak with Cheng Shuo, slowing down his tone. “I’ve never wanted to abandon you.”

But in the next moment, he was met with a sharp retort from Cheng Shuo, “You’re lying. You did think about it. You just changed your mind at the last moment!”

As the words fell, Cheng Shuo, like a balloon stretched to its limits, deflated just when it was about to burst. He slumped, becoming a thin, wrinkled husk with a sunken surface.

Cheng Shuo’s voice was faint, trembling, like a string teetering on the edge of breaking, hanging by a thread. “I know, I know my existence is a… mistake to all of you, but can you… let me live to adulthood first?”

All of you?

The pleading tone was too submissive, not something Cheng Shuo would say. At least, it wasn’t something he would hear from the vibrant, carefree Cheng Shuo he knew.

Cheng Shuo had mentioned that rainy days triggered childhood memories, but what kind of memories could be so heavy as to bring up the topic of life and death?

Lu Huaiqian furrowed his brows, not knowing what to say. He slowly reached out, trying to approach Cheng Shuo. He embraced Cheng Shuo, pulling him into a hug, and spoke softly, “Don’t be afraid. You’re already an adult.”

“You’ve been admitted to the Feijiang Academy of Fine Arts, which is a remarkable university. You’ve made new friends, and your life is good now. You’re free, and no one can decide your life or death.”

Cheng Shuo stared at Lu Huaiqian.

Lu Huaiqian used his hand to rub Cheng Shuo’s head, a gesture of intimacy. “Look at my face. I’m not the one who abandoned you. I’m the new friend you’ve met. Don’t you remember?”

Cheng Shuo’s eyelashes quivered and then he lowered his head.

In a soft voice, he said, “It’s too dark, I can’t see.”

Lu Huaiqian sighed. He didn’t say anything more but maintained the embrace, and Cheng Shuo, who was unmoving in his arms. Together, they silently waited for the thunder to subside.

Later, they lost track of time as Cheng Shuo gradually calmed down. His breathing became light and elongated, seemingly returning to his dreams.

Lu Huaiqian gently placed Cheng Shuo back on the pillow. When he tucked the covers, he found a utility knife that had fallen onto the bedding.

He picked it up and placed it on the bedside table. He suddenly remembered the alley from today. If he hadn’t shown up in time to knock down Song Wenyuan, this utility knife would have been Cheng Shuo’s weapon against four assailants.

Lu Huaiqian’s thoughts spiraled back, connecting the scattered details. Starting from the first time they met, Cheng Shuo had always exhibited clear boundaries in his language and body. He repeatedly drew lines, and his definition of friendship seemed more like deep-seated caution. It was as if Cheng Shuo had a natural barrier of mistrust against everyone.

Then there was that night at the apartment, when thunder rumbled, and Cheng Shuo had said, “Don’t go.”

Lu Huaiqian belatedly realized that the words Cheng Shuo had spoken weren’t meant for him.