ITC chapter 5

 

Night had completely fallen over the small town. The street of food stalls was bustling under the night sky. Small shops with their makeshift canopies lit up the darkness, and crowds began to gather at the stalls. People ordered a few plates of homemade dishes, drank a little wine, and started chatting about anything and everything. The sound of ordering and delivering food blended seamlessly into the lively atmosphere.

The town’s nightlife had only just begun.

If not for seeking Wen Ruqing’s forgiveness, Bai Xizhou might never have set foot in such a place.

He did have a bit of a “young master” temperament and rarely ate at roadside stalls. He disliked the environment here, although his friends were fond of it, claiming it had a certain vibe. To Bai Xizhou, however, whether that so-called vibe truly enhanced appetite was still an unsolved mystery.

Moreover, he had mild mysophobia.

Sitting across from him, Wen Ruqing held the menu and asked if Bai Xizhou had any dietary restrictions. Bai Xizhou answered truthfully, and Wen Ruqing proceeded to place the order with the waiter.

Bai Xizhou had no particular dietary restrictions, except that he didn’t like eggplant. He mentioned it in passing, and Wen Ruqing didn’t say anything but silently crossed out the garlic eggplant on the menu.

The environment made Bai Xizhou feel a little uneasy. His mind kept wandering back to what Wen Ruqing wanted to talk about. It didn’t seem like there was anything worth discussing, yet Wen Ruqing had gone to such lengths to bring him here, so there must be a reason.

What could be so difficult to say directly that it required this much effort?

His thoughts drifted as he stared at the folding table and plastic chair in front of him, surfaces that had likely served countless people before. The greasy texture on his skin made him frown. Without a word, he pulled out several napkins and placed them on the table in front of him.

This action didn’t escape Wen Ruqing’s notice. Bai Xizhou met his gaze, anticipating a comment, but he quickly spoke first.

“No offense, I just have a bit of a cleanliness issue,” Bai Xizhou said, tilting his head to look at Wen Ruqing, his arm resting on the napkin-covered surface. “Sorry.”

Wen Ruqing opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he wanted to say was preempted by Bai Xizhou. Helpless yet slightly amused, he couldn’t help but smile.

“You say you don’t mind, but you still hold a grudge,” Wen Ruqing thought to himself.

“It’s my oversight. Lawyer Bai, please bear with it for a bit.”

Fortunately, Bai Xizhou’s mysophobia wasn’t too severe.

The dishes arrived quickly, filling up the entire table. The main dish was, of course, spicy crawfish, accompanied by some grilled side dishes.

“Do you drink?” Wen Ruqing asked.

“No.” Bai Xizhou’s reply was firm.

Wen Ruqing didn’t order any alcohol.

“If you want to drink, go ahead. If you get drunk, I’ll make sure you get home,” Bai Xizhou said, taking a bite of the grilled corn in front of him. The corn was slightly charred on the surface but tasted pretty good.

“I was just asking, not because I wanted to drink. I can’t handle alcohol,” Wen Ruqing replied, a bit awkwardly rubbing his nose as he poured a glass of water for Bai Xizhou.

Something felt a bit off.

Given Wen Ruqing’s past behavior, Bai Xizhou decided to stay alert.

Wen Ruqing, however, didn’t say anything else. He put on a pair of plastic gloves and began peeling the crawfish.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” Bai Xizhou remarked, his fingers unconsciously fiddling with the strap of his watch. While a quiet meal wasn’t necessarily bad, he preferred open communication.

He looked up at Wen Ruqing, but the latter kept his head down, busy peeling the crawfish. Perhaps because of his mysophobia, Bai Xizhou didn’t like eating shell-on foods. He mainly disliked the process of peeling them, and even with plastic gloves, it couldn’t fully keep the grease away.

Wen Ruqing, on the other hand, was entirely different. The plastic gloves didn’t slow him down at all. Under the warm glow of the lights, the bright red crawfish looked even more appetizing. Bai Xizhou watched as Wen Ruqing skillfully removed the head, twisted a bit, and pulled out a whole piece of shrimp meat. Yet, he didn’t eat it, only placed it into a bowl.

The night market rarely used cool-toned lights; the warm light from above cast shadows under Wen Ruqing’s eyelashes, which fluttered as he blinked. He seemed utterly unaffected by the noise around him, wholly absorbed in peeling the crawfish.

Bai Xizhou found himself entranced. It wasn’t until the bowl, now full of peeled shrimp, was pushed in front of him that he snapped out of it.

At that moment, he seemed to understand the “vibe” his friends often talked about, something unique to roadside night markets. It was the feeling of raw, unpolished warmth—the kind of authenticity and liveliness that high-end restaurants could never replicate.

“You’re not eating?” Bai Xizhou looked at the growing bowl of shrimp meat in front of him, unsure how to react. “You haven’t eaten much all night. You said you wanted me to treat you to dinner, but now that we’ve ordered, you’re not eating. Why?”

“I’m on a diet.” Wen Ruqing made up an excuse and gave an awkward smile.

“Do I look like an idiot to you?” Bai Xizhou frowned, seeing Wen Ruqing was about to continue peeling. He quickly interrupted, “Stop. I said, if you have something to say, just say it. No need for all this.”

Wen Ruqing lowered his head, making his expression unreadable, but his hands stopped moving. He seemed to be struggling with how to start.

“Lawyer Bai, why did you choose to become a lawyer?” Wen Ruqing finally asked, lifting his head. Their eyes met, and Bai Xizhou could see a certain complexity in Wen Ruqing’s gaze.

“Because I studied law in university. If I weren’t a lawyer, I wouldn’t know what else to do.” It was a question Bai Xizhou had never really considered, and for a moment, he felt flustered. He averted his gaze, looking toward the street.

It was a somewhat perfunctory answer. He didn’t like discussing the reasons behind his decisions. Most of the time, he didn’t talk about them with anyone.

Many people had asked Bai Xizhou why he became a lawyer, and he always used this explanation as a brush-off. Studying law and then becoming a lawyer seemed like the natural progression—the most logical career path that didn’t require further discussion.

But the truth was, Bai Xizhou himself had thought about this question for a long time.

“Do you truly love being a lawyer, or do you love the social status it brings you?” Wen Ruqing pressed on.

His questions were sharp, yet his tone was calm, as if he were casually asking, “What should we have for breakfast tomorrow?”

Bai Xizhou picked up a few pieces of shrimp that Wen Ruqing had peeled and put them into his mouth. Then he set down his chopsticks, his expression complicated as he looked at Wen Ruqing.

Was this supposed to be a heart-to-heart? But why did it have to be with him?

“What does Lawyer Bai think passion is?” Wen Ruqing asked again.

Bai Xizhou had thought tonight would just be a simple conversation, but Wen Ruqing had brought up “passion.” That made him feel like he couldn’t just use the same dismissive answers he gave to others.

For Bai Xizhou, there were things he hadn’t even told the friends he’d grown up with.

Why study law? Why become a lawyer?

These questions were ones he had already thought through long before—back when he graduated from university, and especially the moment he stepped onto that plane heading for a foreign country.

Wen Ruqing looked at Bai Xizhou, his eyes filled with questions, illuminated by the warm glow of the light above.

For a fleeting moment, Bai Xizhou felt as though the world had gone completely silent. Silent enough that only the two of them seemed to exist.

A motorcycle passed through the narrow night market street and stopped beside where they sat. The man riding it got off, loudly calling to the shop owner to pack some crayfish for takeout.

His voice boomed in the otherwise lively street.

“I want to love my profession too,” Wen Ruqing murmured, almost under his breath. “But I feel so lost.”

But Bai Xizhou didn’t catch what he said. He could only see Wen Ruqing’s lips move, opening and closing silently.

Wen Ruqing never intended for him to hear.

At that moment, Wen Ruqing’s face still carried a faint smile, but his eyes were shrouded in a darkness that even the warm light couldn’t pierce. His hands kept rubbing a spot marked with scars.

Was it sadness, disappointment, or something else entirely?

It was hard to read.

Bai Xizhou didn’t say anything either, only holding his gaze.

The night wind lifted Wen Ruqing’s bangs. Uncomfortable, he raised a hand to press them back down, covering his eyes.

“What did you just say? I didn’t catch it,” Bai Xizhou came back to himself.

For a moment, it felt like those words had offered him a glimpse into a hidden and desolate world. For the first time, he was desperate to know what Wen Ruqing had said.

“Nothing important. Let’s change the subject.” Wen Ruqing smiled again, his expression easy and light. “You can’t just freeload off the shrimp I peeled for you.”

I didn’t ask you to peel them.

Bai Xizhou retorted silently.

“I don’t think the two things are mutually exclusive,” he said instead.

Since the peeled shrimp seemed to be his payment for the evening, Bai Xizhou felt no more hesitation as he began eating them, finally offering a proper response to Wen Ruqing’s questions.

“I love my profession and naturally accept everything it brings me. Money and status are just added rewards from my work—things I deserve. I don’t feel I’ve strayed from my original intentions because I’ve always done what I truly wanted to do.”

“But I don’t know if I truly love it,” Wen Ruqing admitted. “I want you to tell me—how did you know for sure this was the path you wanted to take? Why have you never grown tired of it after all these years? Did you choose this profession because of someone, like your parents?”

Bai Xizhou was the embodiment of what Wen Ruqing aspired to be—someone who clearly knew what he wanted. But he was different.

It felt as though he had wandered into a maze, surrounded by fog. The drive that once pushed him forward had dwindled, leaving him unsure whether to retrace his steps or forge ahead.

He desperately wanted to find something in Bai Xizhou—something that could help him break out of this deadlock.

But his words seemed to stir something unpleasant in Bai Xizhou’s memory. His face darkened, and his expression turned cold.

“Wen Ruqing, don’t try to find anything in me,” Bai Xizhou said firmly. “And don’t think my experiences can serve as a template for your path. What we’re facing is entirely different.” He finished the last shrimp in his bowl, set down his chopsticks, and grabbed a napkin to wipe his hands, signaling he was done. Raising a hand, he called for the bill. “Your own feelings always come first. No one can teach you how to make your decisions.”

The server came over with the bill and calculated the total. Bai Xizhou reached for his phone to scan the QR code, but Wen Ruqing was quicker.

“Tonight’s meal is on me,” Wen Ruqing said, handing the money to the server.

Bai Xizhou didn’t argue. He simply put his phone away, stood up, and straightened his clothes.

As they left, the night market was as lively as ever. Their table had already been cleared of trash by the server, and new patrons had taken their seats.

No one would pay attention to what they had just been discussing, nor would anyone know how tonight’s conversation might affect Wen Ruqing. To an outsider, it was just an ordinary meal.

Tonight, Wen Ruqing didn’t feel like riding his bike, and Bai Xizhou also wanted to walk off the food. They strolled along the roadside. The town at night, unlike the brightly lit cities, had a quieter, cozier charm.

Most of the town’s lights were warm-toned, casting a gentle glow on everything. Wen Ruqing walked along the edge of the road, his shadow stretching to match Bai Xizhou’s height, shifting between long, short, and invisible.

The two remained silent for most of the walk.

“Lawyer Bai, do you find me ridiculous? We’ve barely known each other, yet I’m trying to get something from you that I lack.”

“Yes,” Bai Xizhou replied, his tone cold, reminiscent of the day they first met.

But Wen Ruqing wasn’t offended. He quickened his pace, stepping in front of Bai Xizhou. In a spot beyond the reach of the streetlights, their faces were hidden in shadow, but Bai Xizhou could hear Wen Ruqing sigh.

“Don’t be fooled by how I seem to talk to everyone, carefree and unbothered. There are things no one here can understand. Keeping it all inside is suffocating. I approached you because you have something I need, and I happened to need an outlet. One day, you’ll leave this place, forget everything about it, including me. You’re the perfect choice, Lawyer Bai. Isn’t that what you think too?”

Perhaps this version of Wen Ruqing, hidden in the darkness, was his truest self—his voice cold, emotionless, delivering the facts with sharp clarity.

Wen Ruqing had guessed correctly. Bai Xizhou had indeed thought that way. But having it stated so plainly stripped the moment of meaning. Clever people weren’t always likable.

“I never thought that,” Bai Xizhou replied, unwilling to argue. He stepped around Wen Ruqing, intending to leave, but Wen Ruqing grabbed his arm.

“From the day you arrived, I could tell you had something on your mind. You allowed me to get close because you also needed someone to listen. You believe, as I do, that once you leave this place, no one will ever know your secrets. We have the same purpose. We’re the same kind of person,” Wen Ruqing said, insistent on defining their relationship.

In his mind, he was being honest about his motives. Bai Xizhou, in turn, owed him a response. Wen Ruqing didn’t see anything wrong with his actions.

“Wen Ruqing, we are not the same kind of person. And don’t look to me for passion.”

Bai Xizhou’s patience had worn thin. He pried Wen Ruqing’s hand off, glanced at him briefly, and left without another word.

The conversation that lasted the entire night didn’t bring the two of them closer; instead, it took a sharp turn for the worse. Bai Xizhou returned to the inn, didn’t linger, and went straight upstairs. Wen Ruqing followed behind and only entered after him.

“Wait a minute, Uncle Chen sent you some fruit. I’ll bring it over for you,” Wen Ruqing called out to Bai Xizhou.

“No need. It’s for you.”

“What, did you two argue?” Wen Qing, who was carrying a bag, came out and saw the scene, a bit puzzled. Weren’t they supposed to have dinner together tonight?

Wen Ruqing shook his head, clearly not wanting to discuss it.

He wasn’t sure where to start.

Wen Qing couldn’t be bothered to interfere in the matters of these young people. “You remember what tomorrow is, right? Make sure to go home. Don’t stay in the inn all the time.”

Wen Ruqing nodded, and Wen Qing said a few more things before leaving. The lobby of the inn fell completely silent.

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Author note:

Frozen Starlight
It seemed like Wen Ruqing had accidentally stepped on Bai Xizhou’s sensitive spot. (´･ω･`)