Chapter 67: It Has To Be Her
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
After making up her mind, Wen Ruoxian got started on preparing for the work handover and handling the paperwork.
Work arrangements came first, with the formalities coming second. Even with Cheng Suran’s support, she wanted to leave as little burden as possible. She would take care of everything she could, and for the rest, Xu Man would help out.
Xu Man had been with her for three years, having a hand in every project, big or small, within their business scope. Even acting as the Vice President, she would be more than capable.
They first held a short meeting to assign the handover tasks, then had another meeting with the lower-level management to adjust the plans.
This went on until the tourist visa was processed.
On her last day at the company, Wen Ruoxian unusually went out for dinner with Cheng Suran. Not fond of drinking, she ordered a bottle of red wine, pouring half a glass for each of them and clinking their glasses.
She looked into Cheng Suran's eyes and said, "I haven’t told you this before, but this time I’m going to England to find someone, to find... Qingluo."
At the moment she said Qingluo’s name, it felt like a burden was lifted. She could openly mention it in front of Cheng Suran.
"I guessed as much," Cheng Suran raised an eyebrow, her gaze turning playful.
Wen Ruoxian was initially stunned. "How did you..." Then she realized, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "Well, there are some misunderstandings between us that I didn’t handle well. I’ve thought about it a lot and decided I need to go find her and clear things up."
She kept some things to herself. Feelings are private, and even with the closest friend, it's hard to share too much.
So she couldn’t understand people who shared every detail of their romance with their friends.
Ranran understood her well. With just a glance, a gesture, or a word, she knew what she was thinking or planning to do. It wasn’t surprising that she could guess these things. Over the past few months, it was likely that her emotions had already been transparent to Ranran.
Wen Ruoxian herself found it difficult to talk about Qingluo in front of Ranran. She had imagined it countless times, and today, when she finally took action, she realized it wasn’t as difficult as she had thought.
"Let me guess again, did someone confess to you, and you didn’t accept?" Cheng Suran said with a teasing smile.
Wen Ruoxian was completely stunned. Her face turned red with honesty, and her heart raced at being so accurately guessed. "I didn’t reject her. I… ai, did you install surveillance on me?"
"Hahaha——"
Cheng Suran laughed heartily.
“There's no need to set up surveillance; it's really obvious. Just think a little and you'll get it. I know you the best."
Wen Ruoxian's face reddened even more, and she didn’t know what to say for a moment.
"Alright, I won’t gossip about your private matters. Go ahead without any worries. I absolutely support you. If possible, I hope that one day, I can bring Coco, you can bring Qingluo, and the four of us can play mahjong together."
Cheng Suran winked and raised her glass.
She knew that Ruoxian was not naturally enthusiastic about the business world and preferred leisure and freedom. She had given up her career without hesitation to follow and support her, sacrificing so much. Cheng Suran felt both grateful and guilty toward her. Now that Ruoxian needed help, Cheng Suran would be her strongest support.
If Ruoxian had someone she loved, the past would no longer stand between them. Perhaps they could become true, burden-free friends.
Wen Ruoxian blushed, clinked glasses with her, and responded softly, "Hmm..."
The vision was beautiful.
But she didn't hold out much hope.
[Every second I look at you makes me sick!]
Qingluo didn’t like her. The chances of her getting nowhere in England this time were high. But she had to try her best, to seize any small opportunity—what if?
….
The flight was at the end of the month.
From Jiangcheng to the capital, then a direct flight to London.
On the night before departure, Wen Ruoxian packed her bags at home. She was no stranger to going abroad; it was just like a regular business trip, and a large suitcase was enough. Besides her personal items, she also packed the sketchbook she had just finished a few days ago.
It was something she intended to give to Qingluo, packed tightly.
She rummaged through the bookshelf and found an old sketchbook, filled with drawings of Cheng Suran.
Each time she looked at them before, she felt a pang of sadness, becoming immersed in the sorrowful emotions to the point where she wasn't sure whether she loved Ranran or just the state of herself during those times.
This involved psychology, even philosophy, and she couldn't figure it out.
There was no need to keep old things anymore.
After being pressed at the bottom of the box for a long time, seeing them now only felt awkward and amusing. After all, they were drawn secretly, and keeping them was not honorable, let alone giving them to Ranran—Jiang Yu would probably slice her to pieces.
After much consideration, Wen Ruoxian found an old iron box, tore the sketchbook pages one by one, and threw them inside, then used a lighter to set them on fire.
The yellowish flames leaped up, gradually consuming the paper. The delicate lines, heavy shadows, clear faces... The fire danced in Wen Ruoxian's eyes, turning into a pile of ashes.
….
London, England.
On the eve of Halloween, the city streets were bustling. Even before it was completely dark, the colorful and brilliant lights started to illuminate one by one. People dressed up as various ghouls and monsters, skating and cycling down the street. Regent Street was filled with music beats and cheerful laughter, with a strong festive atmosphere.
Song Qingluo and her friends were taking pictures by the street with their pumpkin lanterns. Six people, with five different hair colors, came from six different countries. Song Qingluo was surrounded in the middle like the center of attention, her smile only lightly reflected in her eyes.
After taking the photos, they joined the “Holloween Parade" and rode around the street twice. The winter night was cold, and Song Qingluo began to feel a bit tired. Arthur suggested going to a Halloween party to dance, and everyone agreed except for her. "I’m very tired, so I won’t go. You guys have fun."
“Are you feeling unwell?” The brown-haired woman next to her immediately became concerned.
“No, I’m just exhausted from playing all day and don’t have the energy to dance. Isn’t there another gathering tomorrow?” Song Qingluo replied, glancing at Arthur.
This guy was full of energy, having just finished a two-month high-intensity tour and spent the entire day partying. He was still up for dancing, likely until early morning.
She reminded him not to party too late.
Arthur winked his misty forest-green eyes and said, “I promise.”
“Alright, bye then.” Song Qingluo waved goodbye to her friends and walked towards the Empire Cinema across the street, where a driver would pick her up.
“Kaylee!”
The brown-haired woman followed after her.
They arrived at the cinema entrance, with Song Qingluo naturally stepping to the side. She looked up at the woman and asked, “Aren’t you going to join them?”
“You’re not there,” the woman said, her gaze intense as she shrugged, “I figured it wouldn’t be much fun.”
Song Qingluo avoided her gaze, looking down in silence.
Galina was Russian, having moved to England with her parents in elementary school, making her somewhat of a local. They had met at an alumni gathering two months ago, and Galina had shown an extraordinary enthusiasm towards her, confessing her feelings within just a month.
She was quite tall, half a head taller than Song Qingluo, with naturally curly brown hair cut short to her earlobes. Her deep-set eyes and brows gave her a somewhat androgynous charm.
In plain terms, she had a “Neutral” style.
Although Galina wasn't exactly Song Qingluo's type at first glance, she was feeling frustrated and empty at the moment, so she thought about trying to get to know different kinds of people to change her mood.
Maybe she would end up liking her after getting to know her better?
At least Galina was straightforward, saying exactly what she meant.
It was better than hanging on to something that wasn't working…
But the truth was, if you don't like someone, you don't. Over the past two months, Song Qingluo had been busy with the tour, and whenever she had free time, she would only meet Galina for meals and conversations as friends. Despite getting to know her better, there was no spark of excitement.
The mystery of being moved by someone remained.
Perhaps, it was just a matter of the right person.
"Do you remember the question you asked me last time?" Song Qingluo looked up and gazed seriously at Galina. "At that time, I said we could get to know each other first, but now I have an answer. I think… we are not suited for a romantic relationship because you are not my type, and I don't feel any excitement for you."
When dealing with someone straightforward, it's best to be straightforward in return.
Her native language habits were often indirect, but expressing it in English was burden-free.
Galina was silent for a moment, then instinctively ran her fingers through her hair and smiled a bit shyly. "Okay, I understand."
A black car stopped in front of them. Song Qingluo glanced at the license plate, recognizing it as her own driver’s. She nodded slightly to Galina and got into the car.
The bustle and excitement were left far behind.
South Kensington is one of the affluent areas in London, known for its abundant dining, entertainment, and leisure options. When Song Qingluo was in high school, her mother had bought a detached villa here, complete with a full set of staff including drivers, servants, chefs, and bodyguards, to ensure she lived comfortably and could focus on her studies.
Upon arriving home, the Auntie had already prepared a bath. Song Qingluo took a relaxing soak and then sprayed on her new perfume—St. Mary's Abbey's "Pot Pourri." It had a fresh, slightly cool herbal scent. It was her favorite, the scent she associated with Wen Ruoxian.
"Miss Song, a guest visited you this afternoon," the Chinese auntie greeted her as she came out of the bathroom.
"Who?"
"A young woman with black hair and a gray coat. She said she was your friend. I told her you were not at home, so she left."
"Did she say her name?"
"No."
Black-haired friends are too numerous—high school classmates, undergraduate classmates, master's classmates, and past collaborators. It should be someone she only knew in passing. Otherwise, she would have contacted her beforehand. Since they weren't close, there was no need to worry about it.
"Oh, then don't worry about it."
Song Qingluo waved her hand and walked toward the kitchen.
The dinner had been kept warm, but she had little appetite and ate a little before heading to the piano room to practice the pieces for tomorrow's performance. However, for some reason, her mood remained unsettled.
Today was October 31st.
Tomorrow would be November 1st.
In just four hours, it would be tomorrow.
Tomorrow was Wen Ruoxian's birthday, the day they had reunited in Jiangcheng.
It had been a year.
Song Qingluo set aside the piano and returned to her room.
On the large, soft double bed lay a half-human-sized doll, a Q version of Wen Ruoxian. She rolled over and hugged it, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling.
After two months in England, without Wen Ruoxian's presence, breathing different air, and being busy with performances and socializing every day, she thought she would be able to forget her or at least fade the traces Wen Ruoxian had left in her heart.
But as soon as she closed her eyes, Wen Ruoxian's face filled her mind.
She still remembered Wen Ruoxian's birthday and the day they had reunited. She had been counting down to tomorrow for half a month, even though there was nothing she could do tomorrow.
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
She thought about Wen Ruoxian.
Would Wen Ruoxian be thinking of her too?
Chuchu said that Wen Ruoxian had come to the club to find her once. This news had made her happy for several days. However, thinking that Wen Ruoxian had left after not finding her made her somewhat disappointed, and then regretful.
With Wen Ruoxian's old-fashioned personality, it was not easy for her to take the initiative to find her repeatedly. After calming down, she understood this.
It was only her proud self-esteem causing trouble, her inability to lower her guard, and a desire for a kind of "revenge." She had thought that "revenge" would bring her relief, but all she felt was pain.
Like a blunt knife cutting flesh, it was a lingering, torturous pain.
Song Qingluo turned over, hugging the stuffed toy tightly, and took a deep breath of the herbal fragrance in the air.
It was too late for regrets now. In a fit of anger, she had run away. Even if Wen Ruoxian had the intention to find her, she wouldn’t know where to look. Wen Ruoxian might not even plan to find her again, and might just let go.
After all, if Wen Ruoxian could keep her waiting for so long, what were two months of not seeing her?
She was not that important in Wen Ruoxian’s heart.
"Old-fashioned..." Song Qingluo punched the stuffed toy and muttered to herself.
"You’re just a coward."
After saying this, her throat choked up.
By midnight, Song Qingluo was struggling to keep her eyes open. In a daze, she murmured to the air, “Happy Birthday.”
….
The open-air music event arrived as scheduled on Halloween.
The venue was near Hyde Park.
The sky cleared up for once, showing a clear blue. The sunlight gently filtered through the gaps in the falling leaves, casting a warm, light golden hue.
Organized by Song Qingluo’s alma mater, the event featured interactions between current students and local bands. There were no venue or ticket restrictions, making it more like a large-scale music-themed carnival.
At the fountain’s edge, the music was melodious, with people stopping by to listen.
They could enjoy a piece of ancient medieval folk music, learn a story from the Renaissance period, or watch a fantastic performance by the Royal Academy's student band.
Barbecues, beer, and snacks were also available.
Song Qingluo attended in full splendor today, wearing a fluffy silver-gray evening gown with a cashmere shawl. Her black hair was curled slightly, styled like a princess, and she was adorned in matching jewelry from head to toe, looking as exquisite as a doll.
Starting at 2 p.m., the area around the central stage was crowded, and the scattered stalls began to fill up with people.
She performed local folk songs with her alumni group. Every hour, they took the stage for about fifteen minutes and spent the rest of the time roaming the stalls, performing randomly.
After the third set, Song Qingluo visited a barbecue stall to have some food and drink beer. She joined a folk couple’s band to learn to play the lute.
The lute, an ancient instrument popular during the Renaissance, was something she had briefly learned out of interest. She had a basic understanding and could pick it up again easily with a bit of guidance.
She needed to keep playing.
Or else her thoughts would wander.
It will be fine after today.
Song Qingluo sat on a swing, cradling the lute, gently strumming the strings, and singing a folk tune: “Promise me, when you see a white rose you’ll think of me*…”
*Blackmore's Night - Ghost Of A Rose
Her playing was awkward, as she was not skilled with the instrument, but it made her voice sound even more melodious, and soon, a crowd gathered around her.
Ruoxian had once said she was like a white rose.
A white rose blooming in a greenhouse, sheltered from the wind and rain, needing gentle care.
She was not like that.
She was black.
As she sang, tears welled up in Song Qingluo’s eyes. She gazed aimlessly at the sky, the fountain, and the flower beds, trying to distract herself. Unintentionally, a woman’s figure caught her eye—
She was sitting on the edge of the flower bed, her long hair hiding her face, wearing a fluffy beret and a smoke-gray coat that reached her calves. She looked cold and solitary.
She seemed out of place in the surrounding festive atmosphere.
There was a sense of familiarity.
Song Qingluo stared blankly in that direction, her mind conjuring Ruoxian’s face. Then, she found it somewhat amusing, realizing she had conjured a phantom image, seeing Ruoxian in everyone.
This was London.
Not Jiangcheng.
How could Ruoxian possibly be here? She was so busy, so bound by responsibilities and rules, she would never abandon her work and travel such a distance—if she did, she wouldn’t know where to find her.
Coincidences only existed in the virtual world.
Song Qingluo blinked and saw the woman stand up and walk away in the opposite direction. The flowing crowd obscured her view, and in an instant, the woman disappeared.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she wanted to get up.
The singing abruptly stopped.
The surrounding crowd, thinking the performance had ended, applauded. Song Qingluo was pulled back to reality and glanced at the flowerbed, finding no trace of the woman.
A hallucination.
“Little Fox.” Arthur approached while applauding, a refined smile on his face. “Shall we collaborate on ‘Greensleeves’?”
He waved the flute in his hand.
“Oh, sure...”
Song Qingluo nodded and moved aside slightly. Arthur sat down beside her, maintaining a respectful distance, and gestured to begin.
The lute and flute played together, performing an English folk song. He played, and she listened.
The crowd around them grew larger. Song Qingluo was somewhat distracted and hit several wrong notes. Since she wasn’t skilled with the lute and the folk song was more suited to the flute, it was hard to detect the mistakes.
She frequently glanced towards the flowerbed, feeling inexplicably anxious and uneasy, as if something was about to happen.
The piece wasn’t long. As the final note played, Song Qingluo knew her performance wasn’t perfect. She looked at Arthur with a hint of guilt and said softly, “Sorry, I might be a bit tired...”
“You were really great, Little Fox,” Arthur said, giving her a thumbs-up with a warm smile in his green eyes. “It was just a game. Thank you for playing along, but you should rest now.”
“Mm…”
There were twenty minutes left before the fourth performance began.
Song Qingluo returned the lute to the couple and had a beer at a nearby stall. She wandered around aimlessly, her legs seemingly drawn toward the flowerbed.
In late autumn, the ground was covered with fallen leaves.
The setting sun cast its golden light on the marble platform.
Song Qingluo looked around, but apart from herself, she couldn’t find anyone else with dark hair. This made her more certain that she had imagined it, and she felt a twinge of disappointment.
She sat down, but suddenly her dress caught on something hard. Frowning, she stood up again.
It was a necklace.
The pendant sparkled in the golden-red sunset, and the familiar design—Song Qingluo playing the violin—caused her to reach out slowly. Her mind went blank for a few seconds.
Her necklace?
No, it was supposed to be at home.
Song Qingluo examined the pendant closely. Turning it over, she saw a laser-etched letter “W” on the back. The clasp was slightly loose and opened effortlessly—inside was a small photo.
It was her, playing the violin in the morning light.
This is…
Could it be her?
Wen Ruoxian?
She must be here. She had to be.
Her mind buzzed as she snapped the pendant shut and abruptly looked up, turning and glancing around: “Ruoxian…”
One face after another.
Dozens of people, dozens of unfamiliar faces, kept passing in front of her eyes.
“Ruoxian…Wen Ruoxian…” Song Qingluo gripped the pendant tightly, calling out Wen Ruoxian's name loudly, drawing the attention of people nearby.
“Wen Ruoxian! Are you here? Where are you…Wen Ruoxian! Come out quickly…”
She held her skirt up and ran. The mist gradually filled her eyes, and the cold air rushed into her lungs, making her shiver. On the vast lawn, she flitted about like a directionless white butterfly.
Tears welled up, sliding down her face, the warmth quickly turning cold.
She couldn’t find her.
Nowhere.
After running a full circle around the entire venue, exhausted, Song Qingluo crouched down, hugging her arms, her palms clenched tighter, trembling silently.
It couldn’t be her.
Someone must be playing a prank. She wouldn’t come. She had clearly given up, hadn’t she?
The music from the central stage could be heard from afar.
Song Qingluo jolted up, hurriedly wiping away her tears, and rushed back while lifting her skirt. When she passed the flower bed, she suddenly stopped—
The woman had long black straight hair, wore a plush beret, and was dressed in a well-tailored gray coat, with no jewelry, looking cool and simple.
She glanced down as if searching for something, and just as she was about to bump into her, she looked up.
“Qingluo…”
Song Qingluo stared blankly, her lips opening and closing. She couldn’t tell if it was reality or an illusion until she heard her own name, and then she truly saw the face.
Wen Ruoxian.
She really came.
It wasn’t an illusion or a prank; she was standing right in front of her.
Surging emotions roared like a storm within her body. Song Qingluo’s hand, gripping the necklace, trembled uncontrollably. Her jaws ached from clenching, and the bitter, sour feeling almost made her eyes melt.
She wanted to hold her and cry out, to seek comfort and reassurance, and also to scold her fiercely, accuse and blame her. She wanted to shout that she missed her, that she wanted only her.
A thousand feelings surged up but were hard to express.
“Why are you here?” She maintained her breath, struggling to make her voice sound normal.
Wen Ruoxian, both joyful and anxious, said, “Looking for you.”
“Oh.”
Song Qingluo wanted to say something else, but the music from the stage started again. Like a clockwork machine, she moved forward, following the instructions to jog ahead.
Wen Ruoxian hurried after her.
“Why are you following me?” Song Qingluo frowned, catching a glimpse of her classmates already on stage. She felt anxious.
At that moment, Wen Ruoxian saw her slightly impatient look and heard familiar words echoing in her ears:
[Every second I look at you makes me sick!]
A sharp pain twisted in her chest.
Was this trip really worth it? Qingluo found her so disgusting that she wanted to avoid her completely. Wen Ruoxian had forgotten that she shouldn’t intrude and cause trouble.
But she couldn’t return without accomplishing anything.
There were things she needed to say and do that were still unfinished.
“I’m afraid…”
There were so many people around.
Some words were too embarrassing to say.
But if she missed this chance, there might not be another.
Wen Ruoxian steadied her heart, her eyes showing intense emotions, and resolutely said, “I’m afraid I’ll lose you again.”
Author's Note:
Big fat chapter is here.
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