Chapter 61: Happy Birthday
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
"You said you couldn't accept your uncertain self, so you didn't dare to respond to me for a long time. I understand. Then, I have to say, I can't accept my own overly enthusiastic self either, so I'm taking it all back now. You should be able to understand that, right?"
"No matter how hot the blood is, it will cool down if it sits for too long."
After saying these words, Song Qingluo left resolutely.
Along with that necklace.
Wen Ruoxian clutched her bag, her face pale, standing dazed for a moment before she remembered to chase after her. When she opened the door, Song Qingluo was already nowhere to be seen.
Inside the office, outside the office, all the small things that belonged to Song Qingluo and that she had bought were cleared out in less than ten minutes, leaving no trace—as if she had never been there.
Wen Ruoxian stood frozen at the door, feeling as if a part of her heart had been hollowed out.
The pain of the anesthesia wearing off seeped in bit by bit, surrounding her from all directions. She couldn't tell where it hurt or why it hurt.
The events of the past few days felt like a dream, one thing after another. She floated and sank in the dream, experiencing highs and lows. Finally, at this moment, she felt like she had woken up.
Awake and painfully facing reality—
This time, it wasn't just a little tantrum or a small quarrel that could be soothed. The situation was far more serious than she had imagined.
If she had explained things clearly when Qingluo confessed her feelings, if she hadn't hesitated and wavered for so many days, or even if she had proactively spoken up before Qingluo accidentally walked into those two rooms, perhaps things wouldn't have been as bad as they were now. There's a world of difference between passive explanation and proactive honesty.
Wen Ruoxian still wanted to explain. She picked up the office phone and dialed, but before the call connected, she heard the familiar “turned off" prompt.
She tried her luck with another of her phone numbers.
It was also off.
She had been thoroughly blocked.
….
Wen Ruoxian returned home in a daze and realized she was empty-handed and had forgotten the laptop she was supposed to bring back. She still had work to do that night, so she had to return to the office to get the laptop.
The house was empty, cold, and so quiet it gave her a headache.
When Song Qingluo moved in, she said the place looked like a showroom in a sales office, not a real home.
Later, it became more lively.
Qingluo could not cook, but she loved buying cute and unique tableware, like cloud-shaped bowls, pillow-shaped plates, and bathtub cups... The two originally empty cabinets were stuffed full.
There were also various small ornaments and decorative paintings.
Qingluo was a romantic, tasteful person who loved life.
But overnight, this romance disappeared, and the home reverted to being a "showroom"—exquisite, glamorous, yet cold and dreary.
Wen Ruoxian suddenly felt as if she had returned to last year.
In March of last year, Cheng Suran moved out, and she hadn't adjusted to the emptiness of that time. Every time she returned home, it felt soulless; the home was just steel and concrete.
Why did she think of Ranran again…
Memory is memory, inescapable, she had to admit. Qingluo called her a scumbag, and it seemed not unjust.
It wasn’t just because of the "white moonlight," she knew there were more complex entanglements that hadn’t been spoken of—she had allowed Qingluo to stay initially because it was good for the company’s development and Cheng Suran would be happy.
Perhaps she had been attracted to Qingluo during that time, but from the beginning, her intentions were not pure and did not match Qingluo’s sincerity.
Now she was facing retribution.
Wen Ruoxian thought self-deprecatingly that this day had long been due.
Everything had just returned to its original state.
People come and go, and with times changing, eventually one will adapt.
Wen Ruoxian muttered to herself, continually trying to comfort and numb herself to dilute the pain, staring at the computer, hoping her mind would settle quickly and focus on work.
Suddenly, a message popped up on her phone calendar—
[Three days until “Qingluo Little Cancer Crab Hatching Day”]
June 30th, Qingluo’s birthday.
Wen Ruoxian paused for a few seconds, then remembered that today was already the 26th, and Qingluo's birthday was approaching—she had even prepared a gift for her, planning to give it to her on the morning of the 30th.
But now…
She got up and walked to her bedroom, pulling out a square box from the bottom of the closet.
The box was wrapped in pure silver paper, sharp-edged and smooth, wrapped in three layers. She had used many sheets of wrapping paper to wrap it multiple times, with a silky silver-gray ribbon wound around it, shining even more under the light.
Just like Qingluo’s silver hair.
She had prepared this gift half a month ago, hiding it carefully in the deepest part of the closet, covered with clothes she rarely wore—to avoid it being accidentally found. Since Qingluo had been sleeping with her, everything in the bedroom was both hers and Qingluo’s.
Afraid of it being discovered by mistake.
Now that the day was approaching and they were on the verge of a breakup, looking at the gift made her feel only awkward and ironic.
Should she still send it?
Qingluo probably wouldn’t want to see her and likely wouldn’t accept the gift.
No matter what, she had to at least try…
….
For several days, Song Qingluo was depressed, staying at home and not wanting to see anyone.
Her friends had arranged a birthday celebration for her well in advance. Initially excited and full of anticipation, her mood had plummeted to the lowest point due to recent events, and she couldn’t muster any enthusiasm.
Not wanting to spoil everyone’s mood, she still put on a beautiful dress, did her makeup meticulously, styled her hair the way she liked, and went out with a smile on her face.
On the occasion of Song Qingluo’s birthday, her mother had booked a private banquet hall at a high-end restaurant and invited some business acquaintances and industry elites. Although Song Qingluo disliked such events, she would put on a show and manage for two hours.
She had expected Wen Ruoxian to come. Ms. Song had sent out the invitation a month in advance. At that time, she had seen Wen Ruoxian accept it and said, "I really hate these kinds of events. Ruoxian, I know you don’t like them either. I’ll leave early and take you with me, okay?"
She also remembered that Wen Ruoxian, who was usually quite cautious, had rarely agreed so firmly and decisively: “Okay, we’ll go together.”
It was as if they were eloping.
However, Wen Ruoxian was nowhere to be seen in the hall. Song Qingluo was truly surprised. Even though there had been unpleasant events in the past few days, she thought that with Wen Ruoxian's rigid and proper nature, she would surely keep the appointment and not slight Ms. Song.
But she didn’t come.
Whether it was an accident or disappointment, Song Qingluo felt a bit out of sorts. She thought back to the things she had said to Wen Ruoxian a few days ago and felt a twinge of regret.
If she didn’t come, then she didn’t come.
Song Qingluo didn’t really want to see her anyway.
If she had come, it would have been awkward for both of them and only made things worse.
As she tried to reassure herself, she kept thinking about the gift. Wen Ruoxian had said she prepared a gift for her but would only give it on her birthday as a surprise.
With Wen Ruoxian not coming, the gift was probably not coming either.
She had been looking forward to that gift for a long time.
“Qingluo…” While she was lost in thought, Ms. Song approached with a smile and pulled her aside.
“Why didn’t President Wen come with you?”
Song Qingluo avoided eye contact. “I don’t know. I don’t stay with her anymore.”
“Oh? When did that happen?”
“A couple of days ago.”
“You were staying there just fine. Why suddenly stop?” Her mother’s sharp eyes scrutinized her, then she leaned in and lowered her voice. “Did you fight?”
Song Qingluo looked slightly awkward. “I just didn’t want to stay there anymore…” She paused, then added, “Didn’t she tell you she wasn’t coming? You invited her; at least you could have given me a heads-up if she wasn’t coming.”
The tone grew increasingly accusatory.
Song Yulan raised an eyebrow. “She told me she had an urgent matter today and couldn’t come.”
“Then why did you ask me?” Song Qingluo suddenly realized. “Oh, you did it on purpose, tricking me?”
“Haha…”
“Mom! Are you really my mom? Wen Ruoxian tricked you into fooling me!”
“Oh, dear, how could I deceive you,” Song Yulan said, soothingly hugging her.
“I just felt that something was off between you two, so I tried to indirectly find out. Look at you, ever since you started living with President Wen, you come home less often and don't share your feelings with me. Ai... Mom is really very sad.”
Song Qingluo's ruffled fur immediately smoothed down, turning her into a well-behaved kitten: “Alright, I’ll come home tonight, but I need to wait until the yacht event is over. I’ll try to be back before eleven.”
She ignored the alleged “offness.”
Song Yulan didn’t push further and nodded: “Good. Make sure to come back. There’s a gift waiting for you at home.”
“What gift?”
“You’ll find out when you come back tonight.”
“?”
Just as she was about to ask, Song Yulan was pulled away.
Perhaps another gift was prepared as a surprise? Song Qingluo didn’t think much of it, turned, and put on her “mask,” diving into the crowd to chat and laugh freely.
Not long after lunch, she and Shi Chuning slipped away.
The midsummer sun blazed down, and the air was thick with heat and humidity. A luxury yacht, decorated with a Q-version* portrait of Song Qingluo, was docked at the pier—
*chibi/mini
Tonight, the yacht would host Song Qingluo’s twenty-sixth birthday party.
“How do you like it, baby? The spray painting is nice, right? I designed it, and Qi-jie did the work. I did the thinking,” Shi Chuning said as she and Song Qingluo climbed the gangway.
Song Qingluo absentmindedly nodded, “Mm, it’s pretty.”
At the pier's boarding area, an arch of flowers had been set up, with a large musical note pattern in the center of the curtain. On either side hung two Q-version figures in black and white dresses—one in black was Song Qingluo, and one in white was Wen Ruoxian.
The idea was hers.
The flower arch looked like a wedding hall, with the dresses as wedding gowns—she wore black, while Wen Ruoxian wore white. Walking through this arch together was like a wedding ceremony.
She had indeed prepared two long dresses.
In her imagination, on her birthday, she and Ruoxian would wear black and white long dresses and walk through the arch side by side.
This way, she could pretend she received the gift she most wanted.
She had her own selfish motives.
Because of this selfishness, she eagerly anticipated today.
But all was lost.
Wen Ruoxian wouldn’t come, and she didn’t want her to come.
Realizing this, she felt an indescribable sadness, as if she had personally thrown away something precious. Now she wanted to get it back but was even more annoyed with herself for having this thought—
Get what back? If it’s unwanted, it’s just unwanted.
Isn’t she sick enough of her own “cheap” behavior?
Song Qingluo scolded herself and didn’t notice Shi Chuning’s expression beside her. When Shi Chuning waved a hand in front of her face, she came back to her senses and saw Shi Chuning shaking her head:
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve lost your soul, still thinking about her? You’re so distracted that even I’m getting ignored, hmph.”
“Bah bah, who’s thinking about her?” Song Qingluo was a bit annoyed and turned to continue walking up, quickening her pace.
Shi Chuning followed, linking arms with her: “Come on, you think you can hide your feelings from me? It’s like this right after a breakup—conflicted, tormented. But over time, you’ll slowly forget. It won’t take more than three months at most. After that, I’ll introduce you to some pretty sisters.”
As they boarded the deck, the salty sea breeze blew against Song Qingluo’s head full of silver strands.
She didn’t respond but turned around and pointed at the arched door, saying sulkily, “Take it down. It’s giving off bad energy.”
….
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
Night fell, and a crescent moon hung low in the sky, casting a dim light. Tonight, there were no clouds to obscure the view, and the stars shone brilliantly.
The luxury yacht was brightly lit, with music and drumbeats creating a noisy, continuous revelry. The sounds carried through the air, reaching several meters away.
A small yacht floated quietly on the water, its lights dim, almost lost in the night. Wen Ruoxian leaned against the railing, unmoving, gazing intently ahead.
The flickering colored lights, the rhythmic music.
Shadows of people swayed.
The party was taking place on that yacht.
She knew today was Qingluo's twenty-sixth birthday. Originally, she was supposed to be one of the guests on the yacht, celebrating with candles, and fine wine, and wishing Qingluo a happy birthday.
Wen Ruoxian lowered her gaze slightly, and the invitation in her hand suddenly seemed less significant.
With it, she could board the yacht smoothly and join the celebration. She could go, but considering that Qingluo did not want to see her, it was likely that her presence would only dampen the mood and cast a shadow over the birthday.
She was perceptive.
A gust of warm wind blew, causing the yacht to sway slightly.
Wen Ruoxian carefully protected the "invitation," turned, and sat down, placing it in the most hidden compartment of her bag.
In the center of the table was a birthday cake.
It was a custom chocolate cake from "Huajian." Half a month ago, Qingluo had told her she wanted this cake for her birthday. Wen Ruoxian had noted it in her memo, made an early reservation, and picked it up today, but the real birthday star would not get to eat it.
She solemnly unwrapped the box and placed the cake on the table with a sense of ceremony.
She then lit a "26" candle.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…" Wen Ruoxian sang softly as she looked at the cake. As she sang, her throat felt a bit choked.
The candlelight reflected in her eyes, highlighting a touch of loneliness.
After singing, Wen Ruoxian lifted her head, facing the large yacht in the distance, and gently said, "Qingluo, happy birthday."
She blew out the candle.
The light in her eyes also went out.
Author's Note:
Due to unstable update times, starting from this chapter, there will be no set schedule. Please bear with it. The frequency will be approximately every three days, and you can read it all once it’s complete.
