Chapter 62: Tired
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
Fireworks rose into the night sky, blossoming with brilliant colors, clusters forming the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY," then falling like meteors on Earth.
"Bless our baby Qingluo, may all her wishes come true, and may she have peace and happiness!" Amid the deafening beat of the music, friends raised their glasses, cheering and jumping with joy.
Song Qingluo was surrounded, her face radiating with a happy smile.
The fireworks lit up her eyes, leaving no place for loneliness and desolation to hide. The amber liquid in the champagne glass reflected her smile, making it seem even more pale and powerless.
Luxuries and splendor were all illusions.
Song Qingluo turned her face, gazing at the pitch-black sea.
Not far away were the twinkling lights along the shore. This yacht had not sailed too far, only floating near the coast. The land was visible within sight, bringing a sense of peace to the heart.
Like a kite always needing a string to hold on to.
Her friends wished her dreams would come true, but if they really could, she should be standing here holding Wen Ruoxian's arm, introducing her to everyone as her lover.
She did not get what she wished for.
Blessings were just blessings, a beautiful vision.
Today, although she was accompanied by family and friends, the thought of that person not being by her side still left a regret in her heart, like the moon hanging in the night sky, more than half missing.
They probably would not meet again.
Thinking further, she felt even more sorrowful and desolate knowing she would carry this regret for the rest of her life.
Six years, seven years, her youth, her passion, all had come to an end.
—Bang!
A massive firework exploded overhead.
The sky was as bright as day.
Song Qingluo looked up, her eyes misted with tears. Before the meteors fell, she choked back a sob and whispered, "Wen Ruoxian, I do not want to love you anymore."
The fireworks fell, and the light extinguished.
….
When she arrived at "Changdao Junting," the large estate was lit with dim lights, looking like a palace from afar.
Song Qingluo could hardly remember when she last came back. She felt guilty and planned to find more time to accompany Ms. Song at home—even though she had a caring young boyfriend by her side.
"Mom, I'm back." She took the elevator to the fifth floor and saw Ms. Song reclining on the sofa cushion, soaking her feet and applying a face mask. Her 1.85-meter tall boyfriend with four-pack abs was massaging her shoulders.
Comfortable and leisurely.
In terms of age, Song Qingluo could be this man's older sister. When they met, she only called him by his full name and nodded, which counted as a greeting.
"Did you have fun, sweetie? Come, your gift is here." Ms. Song tried to smile, but the mask restricted her, resulting in a comical expression.
A finely wrapped silver gift box was placed on the table.
No decorative patterns, no design embellishments, simple and plain. This style was unlike any of her close friends, but it reminded her of another person...
Impossible.
Song Qingluo brushed away the thought of that person and held the gift box, smiling. "Mom, why are you being so mysterious? Is this a special surprise for me?"
"It wasn't from me," Song Yulan shook her head. "The day before yesterday afternoon, President Wen gave it to me, saying it was a birthday gift specially prepared for you. She couldn't give it to you in person, so she asked me to deliver it to you."
Song Qingluo's smile froze.
The shadow she had brushed away returned, deepening in her heart, and for a moment, she felt a bit surprised.
Then she remembered what had happened these days, and a surge of sulky emotions rose. With a stern face, she said, "No, take it back."
"Really don't want it?" Song Yulan's eyes were filled with meaning. She lifted her hand, and her young boyfriend immediately stopped massaging. She got up and hugged Song Qingluo. "Oh, she put a lot of thought into it, and she was very sincere when she gave it to me. If you take it back, it would make her very sad."
"If she were truly sincere, why didn't she give it to me in person? Avoiding it and being indirect just means she has something to hide..." Song Qingluo pouted, her tone full of grievance.
She had looked forward to this night for a long time.
She wanted her to come, yet didn't want her to come; she wanted to see her, yet wished not to see her.
It was so frustrating.
Song Yulan didn't press further. Knowing her daughter, she figured it was mostly a case of saying one thing and meaning another. She continued to persuade, "It’s not too late to decide after you see the gift. Don't leave yourself with regrets."
That last sentence hit Song Qingluo’s sore spot precisely.
She glanced at the gift box, her eyes reddening slightly, and silently went back to her room.
She closed the door and eagerly untied the ribbon, tore open the wrapping paper with her hands, scattering it on the carpet like a fairy scattering flowers. Inside was a light-colored marble-patterned paper box.
A small silver lock and a note were attached to the seal, with the code “0630” written on the note.
It was very ceremonial.
Layer upon layer of wrapping showed thoughtfulness.
Song Qingluo felt a bit of comfort and couldn't help but smile. She carefully turned the dials to open the lock, lifted the lid of the box, and inside was a motorcycle helmet.
It was a custom helmet released by AGV.
The deep black color was mysterious and understated, with her name’s pinyin engraved on the side and a simple sketch of her on the back.
There were only three hundred custom slots available worldwide, allowing any design or character of choice. It was released in the middle of the month and priced at over four thousand euros. Buying it required a lucky grab, but unfortunately, she did not get one.
However, since her obsession was not deep, she didn’t take it to heart, only posting a regretful message on WeChat, which she later forgot about.
Song Qingluo took out the helmet. The full carbon fiber material showed a matte finish under the light, with a delicate feel and substantial weight. She had over ten helmets of the same brand at home, but none could compare to this one that she loved.
It carried significant meaning.
It turned out that the matter she had not cared about had always been on Wen Ruoxian's mind.
She was in Wen Ruoxian's heart.
Experiencing the feeling of being cared for, even if just a little, was enough to make her happy, offsetting all the negative emotions of the night and easing the frustration of these past days. She was easily satisfied and easily comforted.
If Wen Ruoxian had given it to her personally, perhaps she would...
No.
To go back just for a gift was too petty. Wouldn't that mean she’d be easily manipulated in the future?
A bootlicker is hated by everyone!
At times like this, she should think about how she was “sent away” to Cheng Suran after confessing her lies to Wen Ruoxian, and how foolish and laughable it was to feel wronged on Wen Ruoxian’s behalf.
A small gift to buy her off?
Song Qingluo quickly composed herself, placed the helmet back in the box, closed it, and wrapped the packaging paper haphazardly, tying it with the ribbon.
Throwing it away would be a waste, and selling it wouldn’t be appropriate, so storing it away to gather dust was the best choice.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Outside, Ms. Song was still sitting on the living room sofa. The face mask had been removed, and her feet had finished soaking. Her young boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. She held a book, not moving or turning the pages, as if she was just waiting for Song Qingluo to come out.
“Aunt Hong, have someone come up and clean the carpet in my room,” Song Qingluo said to the housekeeper over the intercom.
After hanging up the phone, she walked over to Ms. Song. “Mom, why aren’t you going to bed? Waiting to gossip about me again?”
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
No one understands a mother better than her daughter.
Ms. Song cleared her throat, put down the book, and looked Song Qingluo up and down: “Did you accept the gift?”
“Mm.”
“Do you like it?”
“Mm.”
“That’s good.”
“Hey, Mom, if you have something to say, just say it. If you keep looking at me like this, I’ll grow fur even if I don’t have any,” Song Qingluo pleaded.
“Haha…”
Ms. Song laughed heartily, affectionately stroking her head: “Aren’t you interested in Wen Ruoxian and trying to pursue her? I’ve been too busy lately to help you out much. I was planning to arrange a gathering today in the name of your birthday, inviting Wen Ruoxian to meet Aunt Kong, Uncle Deng, and the others. But then, two days ago, she called me, apologized for not being able to come, and handed over the gift. I felt something was wrong…”
Song Qingluo hesitated, not knowing how to respond.
She didn’t want to complain about Wen Ruoxian in front of her mother, but if she were to confess everything, it would inevitably bring emotions into play, which might affect the cooperation between their families on business matters.
Thinking about business matters made her feel even more frustrated. She had been given a lot of resources, both openly and subtly, and thought it was to help Wen Ruoxian. However, it seemed that it also benefited Cheng Suran. Was there a possibility that Wen Ruoxian and Cheng Suran were discussing her behind her back, mocking her as a fool? Perhaps even coordinating their actions...
Song Qingluo pushed the thought away, feeling more agitated.
“Did you feel wronged?” Ms. Song hugged her, looking worried.
“I…”
Being comforted, especially by her mother, Song Qingluo couldn’t hold it in any longer.
She gave a general account of the situation.
After listening, Ms. Song was silent for a long time before suddenly laughing: “Ai, matters of the heart, bystanders really can’t do much to help.”
“Mom, even though I’m telling you this, it’s still a personal matter between her and me. I’ll handle it myself. You should continue to interact with her as usual, without letting this affect you,” Song Qingluo said, hanging her head.
“Afraid I might embarrass her?”
“If you care, it means it’s not a deep grudge. It’s also hard for you to handle it this way, right?”
“…”
Ms. Song adjusted her sitting position and handed her a cushion to lean on. “She definitely has feelings for you, but it’s not to the point where she’s willing to give up everything for you. Emotions need time to develop; you can’t rush them. Also, it’s human nature to seek benefits and avoid harm. It’s unreasonable to expect someone to sacrifice something for you. It’s exhausting and unsustainable.”
“Not giving a clear stand can indeed hurt, whether intentional or not. So, her apology and efforts to make amends are necessary.”
A few simple words, gentle and understanding.
Song Qingluo’s anxious heart gradually calmed down.
“I actually think that her being open with you about her true feelings shows responsibility and reliability. At least she must have carefully considered your relationship; she wasn’t just casually brushing you off. It might be due to a lack of emotional experience that her good intentions turned into a mistake. As for the rest... that’s a matter of character. Given how reserved President Wen is, would it be likely for her to take the initiative?”
Ms. Song’s face was full of loving smiles as she spoke about Wen Ruoxian, almost as if she were talking about her own daughter, and she playfully teased.
“It’s impossible, I know,” Song Qingluo said, shaking her head gently.
Just as her mother said, Wen Ruoxian might have some feelings for her, but they were far from the feelings for a white moonlight. Whether she was there or not made little difference to Wen Ruoxian. How could she be willing to step out of her comfort zone for her?
The truth was so painful.
….
The next day, Song Qingluo went to the hair salon and dyed her hair jet black. Tony said that once dyed black, it would be very difficult to dye other colors in the future and advised her to think carefully.
Looking at herself in the mirror, with skin as white as fresh snow and eyes like flowing water, her head crowned with deep, ebony hair, her aura took on a hint of mystery.
[Do you like me with silver hair?]
[Yes.]
She was already tired of it.
She's tired of it.
The black night was her protective color, her purity, her sincerity, all hidden away from then on, unknown to anyone.
