Although it was noon, the restaurant’s lighting was set to a soft, warm glow. The table was covered with a snow-white napkin, and crystal wine glasses were placed on top. When the waiter led Xu Qi to his seat, a thin, middle-aged man was already sitting across from him.
“Mr. Wei.” Xu Qi handed him the folder he was holding.
The middle-aged man took it, passed it to the secretary beside him, and gestured for Xu Qi to sit down.
“Thank you for your generous help, Mr. Wei.”
“It’s just business. You should thank yourself for pushing the acquisition price so low.” The middle-aged man glanced at him, “You have a talent for information warfare.”
“Don’t you want to know where that information came from, Mr. Wei?”
The middle-aged man laughed: “I’m not a lawyer, not a judge. What’s all this talk about procedural justice?
The secretary finished reading the documents, returned them to the folder, and handed them to him. He placed his palm on top: “I’ve seen your second quarter financial report. The project’s progress this year looks good. By the end of the year, the company should start turning a profit, right?”
“Yes,” Xu Qi said, “Thank you for trusting us. I will never forget the kindness of your first investment.”
When the company was first established, he had been running around at various investment conferences, even intercepting entrepreneurs who had just finished giving lectures at universities, but he was rejected everywhere. They were just a group of university students with no connections, no background, and they were new to the business and did not have the eloquence to convince investors.
Just when the team was feeling disheartened, an entrepreneur who had visited the startup park called them, willing to offer them some funds.
In the three rounds of funding, there were investors who contributed higher amounts, and Mr. Wei himself had later invested even more significant funds, but the first investment held a different meaning. It signified recognition, it meant their ideas had the potential to be realized.
Xu Qi was deeply grateful for that recognition.
However, the middle-aged man across the table slightly furrowed his brows and asked in surprise: “You didn’t know?”
Xu Qi was even more puzzled than he was.
“I thought your mother had already told you,” the middle-aged man said, “The first investment was entrusted to me by her to give to you.”
Xu Qi felt a buzzing in his temple: “What?”
“She’s my clothing sales consultant, so we were quite familiar with each other,” the middle-aged man said. “She came to ask me, to use her money and invest in you. I was willing to continue investing because you all proved the company’s value afterward. But the initial investor was your mother.”
Xu Qi didn’t know how he walked out of that restaurant.
He unlocked his phone, found his mother’s number, and hovered his finger over the call button for a long time, but in the end, he didn’t press it. He returned to his office and sat at his desk for the entire afternoon, making a decision.
When he got home, the lights in the living room were already on. However, the TV wasn’t on, and Xu Zhiya was just sitting at the dining table, scrolling through short videos on her phone.
This scene felt like a cycle.
Xu Qi walked to the chair opposite her, pulled it out, and sat down. “How did you know the new password?”
Xu Zhiya turned off the screen. “That boy told me.”
Xu Qi took a deep breath. “You’ve seen Jiang Yu?”
“En,” Xu Zhiya said, “He’s in the study, said he wouldn’t disturb us chatting.”
Xu Qi looked at his mother, paused for a moment, and finally said: “He’s the person I like.”
Xu Zhiya fell into silence. After a long time, she spoke. “That’s really too bad.”
“Why?”
“He looks like a child who was raised being loved.”
Xu Qi turned his head and looked at the closed door of the study. “Actually, it’s not entirely like that,” he said. “He just… has a special ability. Love and being loved are both easy for him.”
Xu Zhiya didn’t answer. Xu Qi wasn’t sure if she was thinking about why it was so difficult for them.
He broke the silence: “Why didn’t you tell me about the investment?”
Xu Zhiya looked at him with eyes that made his heart ache: “Because what you needed back then was the trust of an investor, not a mother’s confession.”
Xu Qi lowered his head and stared at the table. “You have nothing to confess.”
“If I hadn’t been so obsessed with opening a store, you wouldn’t have turned out like this,” Xu Zhiya said. “All I could think about was starting over, without considering your feelings. You said you didn’t need my money, and I didn’t want to buy your forgiveness with money.”
“The source of these issues is not you,” Xu Qi said. “It’s the people I’m seeking revenge on now. There’s no question of forgiveness.”
They both fell into memories, from the moment they arrived in Beijing, from that murder case, even before that, life seemed to have already fallen apart.
Xu Zhiya asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about being beaten?”
In this long silence, Xu Qi seemed to see everything from the past. Their family was not good at communication, including his late father. No one knew what he had been thinking in his heart at the moment he picked up the knife.
Xu Qi took out a document and a card, pushing them across the table to his mother.
Xu Zhiya glanced at the card, then shook her head: “I don’t need you to give me the money back.”
“This isn’t paying back; it’s a dividend,” Xu Qi said. “You’re the first investor in the company, and having shares is only natural.”
Xu Zhiya’s gaze shifted from the card to the document. “And what’s this?”
“Open it and take a look.”
Xu Zhiya slowly pulled out the document, her hand pausing when she saw the bolded title. It was a shop lease agreement.
“Let’s open the store again,” Xu Qi said. “In my memory, Mom was happiest when she was doing business.”
Xu Zhiya stared at the agreement for a long time, then looked up, seemingly hesitant to speak.
“You don’t have to text me constantly to remind me to take my medicine, you don’t have to come here every day to check if I’ve had an episode, you don’t have to anxiously ask around if I haven’t answered your call,” Xu Qi said. “Now, someone accompanies me to the hospital, reminds me to take my medicine, and makes sure I rest well. I will also eat well, rest well, and live healthily.”
They might not be the type of mother and son who communicated intimately every day, but they could each develop their own lives and live peacefully apart.
“You don’t need to worry, I’ll be fine.”
Xu Zhiya looked at her son deeply for a moment, then stood up and walked to the other side of the table. Xu Qi opened his arms to embrace her.
After seeing his mother off, he walked into the study and saw Jiang Yu sitting at the desk, reading a book.
When he saw Xu Qi approach, Jiang Yu gave an apologetic smile and put the bookmark back into the pages. “I was a bit bored, and I happened to find this. I wanted to see if I could recognize any words,” Jiang Yu said, leaning his head toward the door. “Did Auntie leave?”
“En.”
“I told her the password,” Jiang Yu’s voice sounded a bit guilty. “She said she wanted to talk to you…”
“It’s fine,” he raised his hand to gently stroke Jiang Yu’s hair. “You can do whatever you want.”
Jiang Yu, feeling granted universal permission, mysteriously said, “I want to show you something.”
“What?”
Jiang Yu picked up a pen from the pen holder, grabbed a piece of paper printed on one side, flipped it over, and began writing on the back. His grip was awkward, and writing was difficult for him. He pressed hard, leaving deep marks on the paper.
Xu Qi watched as Jiang Yu painstakingly finished writing, then lifted the paper, proudly showing it to him.
There were two characters deeply imprinted on the paper: Xu Qi.
“I can write your name now.”
Xu Qi ran his fingers over the crooked characters, feeling the love and effort gathered in the slight indentations. He folded the paper carefully, putting it away solemnly, then turned to face Jiang Yu.
“I can only write your name.”
It was rare for him to speak with such a serious tone, his eyes intently fixed on the person in front of him.
After a while, Xu Qi finally understood what he meant.
This wasn’t a declaration of ability, nor was it seeking praise; it was a confession.
The sunlight streamed through the window, filling the room with golden light.
Xu Qi reached out and tightly embraced him, as if grasping the sunlight.
“I’m sorry.”
Jiang Yu didn’t understand the reason for this, but still raised his hand and placed it on his back.
When he asked Jiang Yu about the domestic worker’s job methods, it really was just as his old classmate had thought.
It was a perfect opportunity to make a move, and the difficulty of acquiring information was nearly zero.
Moreover, the plan’s endpoint was Jiang Yu.
As long as he made up any excuse, Jiang Yu would do it for him. No, he wouldn’t even need an excuse; Jiang Yu would agree to it.
Jiang Yu would enter his world. They would become accomplices.
This was almost the strongest bond in the world.
The moment this thought emerged, he was startled.
What was he doing?
He really had no bottom line, but if even Jiang Yu became part of the plan, then he wouldn’t even be human anymore.
Back when he was in his hometown, many of his relatives practiced Buddhism and would burn incense and kneel down to worship every morning.
He did not believe in any religion, nor did he believe that there are any gods or Buddhas in the world for salvation, karma, or reincarnation.
But if there was anything in his life that came close to a Buddha, it was Jiang Yu. He understood everything, forgave everything, and redeemed everything.
His mother was right, it was such a pity. Everything he had, Jiang Yu didn’t care about; everything he lacked, Jiang Yu had already obtained.
He couldn’t give Jiang Yu anything, yet Jiang Yu still came to his side.
What he longed for, what he yearned for, was thus filled.
So easily, so generously.
Xu Qi buried his face in the slender shoulder of the person in his arms, his peripheral vision catching sight of the poetry collection on the desk. “Do you remember this book?”
Jiang Yu widened his eyes. “Have I seen it before?”
“En,” Xu Qi said, “More than ten years ago, in the infirmary.”
At that time, he had sprained his foot and had an ice pack on his leg. Jiang Yu sat on another bed, quietly cursing him.
For a long time, he could only lie on the bed, completely still. Jiang Yu, perhaps afraid he would be bored, asked him, “Do you want to read a book?”
He remembered that he liked to read.
He said there was a poetry collection on the table that he hadn’t finished, so Jiang Yu ran to the classroom and brought it back for him.
“You are so awesome.” Jiang Yu said as he handed it to him.
At that age, few children liked reading poetry collections. Jiang Yu didn’t understand poetry, but he knew that being able to read and understand it was impressive.
The person on the hospital bed took the book and noticed that the other person in the room had not left. “I’ll read, what will you do?”
Jiang Yu thought for a moment and said, “Read it to me.” Although he didn’t understand poetry, he wanted to hear his voice.
So the person on the bed opened the page marked by the bookmark and began reading softly.
Meeting someone in life
Is something that’s actually astonishing
Because he
Brings himself with his past, present, and future
Because someone’s whole life comes along
Since it’s fragile
Therefore, the heart may have once been shattered
The heart is coming too
A heart that can only be gently soothed by the breeze
So that it is not hurt
If my heart could mimic that wind
It can become a hospitable place
The author has something to say:
The ending is from the Korean poet Jeong Hyeon-jong’s “Visitor.”
T/N: So if there’s any wrong translation in the poem, please let me know. I googled but most of the translations I found only until ‘The heart is coming too’.
