STT – Chapter 4
by Little PandaIt’s Not That I Can’t Forget You — It’s Just That I Can’t Forget the Pain.
When Lu Zizheng woke early the next morning, Jiang Huaixi was no longer beside her. On the white single pillow, only a small depression remained, along with a few strands of Jiang Huaixi’s long, soft black hair. Lu Zizheng reached out and picked up those strands, staring blankly at them for a while.
By the time Lu Zizheng had finished washing and changing and reached the side hall, she saw that Jiang Huaixi had already changed into a fresh outfit — refreshed, exquisitely made-up, standing by the dining table helping Mother Lu set out bowls and chopsticks.
Seeing Lu Zizheng up, Jiang Huaixi handed her the extra pair of chopsticks in her hand and said, “A rare chance to have breakfast with Auntie, and you don’t even know how to put on a good show. Honestly.”
Lu Zizheng took the chopsticks and sat down, defending herself. “If I did too well, you wouldn’t get your chance to show off how sensible and well-behaved you are.”
Mother Lu was an expert at adding the finishing blow. “Huaixi doesn’t need to perform — I already know she’s sensible and well-behaved.”
Lu Zizheng: “…”
After breakfast, Jiang Huaixi first drove Lu Zizheng back to her place to change into clean clothes, then drove her to the company.
It had to be said that Jiang Huaixi had always been punctual — just as she had always arrived earlier than Lu Zizheng back when they had classes together. When Lu Zizheng reached the company, there were still fifteen minutes before work began. In university, Jiang Huaixi’s punctuality had made Lu Zizheng gnash her teeth in frustration. Now, she only felt — oh, thank goodness she hadn’t been late.
Getting out of the car and entering the building, she ran into a colleague. Lu Zizheng had absolutely no recollection of her, but the female colleague greeted her warmly: “Translator Gu…”
They entered the elevator together, and the colleague asked enthusiastically, “The person who drove you to work just now — is that your boyfriend? Nice car.” Her tone was thick with envy.
Lu Zizheng couldn’t be bothered to explain. She gave a lukewarm “Mm” and said nothing more.
Sometimes she thought: if only everyone in this world had less curiosity, paid less attention to other people’s private affairs, had less imagination — would there be fewer troubles?
Most people in this world don’t seem to understand the weight their every word carries, or its destructive power. And so they ask whatever they want, say whatever they want, spout nonsense, speak as they please. Fortunately, she seemed to have learned to pretend she was invulnerable.
Lian Xuan knocked on Lu Zizheng’s office door in her slender high heels, wearing an elegant black skirt, long legs striding forward. She pushed the door open with practiced grace, smiling as she said, “Good morning. Getting used to the work?”
Lu Zizheng didn’t believe Lian Xuan had come purely for that. She nodded. “It’s fine. President Lian can rest assured.”
Sure enough, Lian Xuan said, “That’s good. The next while might be busy — you’ll have to work hard. Take another careful look at the materials Secretary Zhang gave you yesterday. Come to my office at ten and we’ll discuss some issues.”
Lu Zizheng responded with a “Alright” and began burying herself in organizing the relevant documents.
She lowered her head to read the files. She heard Lian Xuan’s high heels clicking away toward the door — then suddenly, silence. She looked up in confusion and saw Lian Xuan had turned back, watching her as she added, “After all these years, you still have the habit of spacing out in the mornings.”
In that instant, Lu Zizheng almost forgot how to smile in response.
At nine fifty-five, Lu Zizheng left her office, preparing to find Lian Xuan. On the way, she happened to run into Lian Xuan and her group seeing a guest out. Lu Zizheng stood to the side, waiting for Lian Xuan to return.
A tall, handsome young man at the front suddenly spoke to Lu Zizheng in greeting: “Miss Lu, hello.”
Lu Zizheng didn’t recognize him for a moment.
Lian Xuan asked with a smile, “President Jiang knows Zizheng?”
Jiang Huaichuan answered with a gentle smile, “Miss Lu is my older sister’s friend. We’ve met a few times.” Then, politely, he said to Lu Zizheng, “Miss Lu, whenever you’re free, come visit our home. My mother has always wanted to meet you.”
Lu Zizheng finally recognized the young man before her in his suit and tie — that sincere boy who had once come looking for her. Looking carefully, she could still find traces of Jiang Huaixi in his features.
She gave a small smile and nodded, accepting Jiang Huaichuan’s polite words.
Closing her eyes, leaning against the wall, Lu Zizheng’s mind echoed with Jiang Huaichuan’s young, slightly immature voice: “Miss Lu, if you don’t like my sister, please don’t hurt her, alright? I’m begging you.”
That had been not long after her first, inexplicably unpleasant encounter with Jiang Huaixi in the library.
How had she responded to him back then?
She had only looked at him strangely and said indifferently, “Sorry, I don’t know your sister.”
The boy had lowered his head and said, “My sister… is Jiang Huaixi.”
In that moment, Lu Zizheng had laughed in anger, sneering. “Young Master Jiang, you do love to joke.” Who was hurting whom? He seemed to have gotten the subject and predicate reversed.
The boy’s face had flushed crimson. He had only said earnestly again, “Even if you don’t like her, please don’t hurt her. I’m begging you…” That “I’m begging you” had been soft, but filled with sincerity.
Lu Zizheng had felt surprised, but still couldn’t suppress her anger. The inexplicable humiliation Jiang Huaixi had left her with was something she would never forget in this lifetime. Looking at the handsome boy before her, she only felt — are rich people all like this? Always saying whatever they want, acting so inexplicably?
She hadn’t paid him any attention and had walked straight away.
Truly an unpleasant meeting. Who would have thought that, in the blink of an eye, so many years would pass.
But, Lu Zizheng smiled to herself — little brother, you really worry too much. Jiang Huaixi seems like she has a body of adamantine indestructibility1, a heart solid as diamond. How could she be so easily hurt?
When Lian Xuan returned, she saw Lu Zizheng standing with arms crossed, eyes closed, a faint smile on her face, leaning against the wall opposite — the picture of tranquility.
She had to admit, time had been especially kind to Lu Zizheng. Years later, Lu Zizheng was still exactly as she existed in her long-held memories — beneath a lovely, moving exterior, there was a clean, innocent quality carved into her bones, visible at a glance.
Lian Xuan gazed at her deeply for a few moments, then closed her eyes and rubbed her temples before stepping forward to gently pat Lu Zizheng’s shoulder. She watched as Lu Zizheng’s eyes flew open in alarm, instinctively retreating a step — the back of her head slamming hard into the wall with a loud thud…
Lu Zizheng didn’t even have time to touch the back of her head before she was already scrambling sideways, putting distance between herself and Lian Xuan. Only then did she say awkwardly, “Sorry, President Lian. I was a bit distracted.”
Lian Xuan, however, took her hand, drew closer, tilted her head to examine the back of Lu Zizheng’s skull, and asked softly near her ear, “Is your head okay? Did it hurt? I’ll have the secretary bring some medicine.” Her voice was pleasant, threaded with concern.
The distance between them was less than a fist’s width. She could clearly smell the faint perfume on Lian Xuan — a scent that, years ago, Lu Zizheng had dreamed of being close enough to catch. Back then, proximity like this would have made her heart race with excitement. Now, she felt her heart racing just the same — but she knew clearly that it wasn’t from joy.
She turned her head, took a step back, and smiled awkwardly, changing the subject. “I’m fine. President Lian, I’ve looked over the materials. If you…”
Lian Xuan looked at her. The awkwardness lasted only a fleeting moment before she smiled again. “Mm, let’s go inside.” She turned and opened the office door.
The discussion proceeded smoothly. Lu Zizheng had double-majored in International Trade and Japanese as an undergraduate, and her professional knowledge was solid — nothing stumped her.
During the discussion, Lian Xuan’s serious demeanor felt strangely unfamiliar to Lu Zizheng. Without her smile, the lines of her face held a cold sharpness that caught Lu Zizheng off guard.
Lu Zizheng couldn’t help but wonder — beneath her gentle, beautiful exterior, was there also a heart unexpectedly cold and impenetrable?
All these years, she still hadn’t learned to see through people’s hearts. She didn’t know if that counted as foolishness.
At noon, she declined her colleagues’ invitation and went to the cafeteria alone. After getting her food, she deliberately chose a corner seat by the window. She gazed outside, occasionally taking a bite or two.
The seat across from her had been empty most of the time for years. But watching the scattered people in the cafeteria — sitting side by side or facing each other in twos and threes — Lu Zizheng didn’t feel envious.
She had long grown used to eating alone.
Besides, the people who eat with you aren’t necessarily friends. The reason they’re with you might not be affection — perhaps it’s just that they’re each lonely in their own way.
Suddenly, she saw a couple walking hand-in-hand into the building across the street. The man was tall and handsome; the woman was elegant and beautiful. They were chatting and laughing, clearly heading toward the newly opened Western restaurant on the second floor — a picture of enviable romance.
Lu Zizheng recognized the woman at a glance. It was Lian Xuan, who had earnestly invited her to lunch after their noon discussion. Lian Xuan had said that if she didn’t want to go out to eat together, she’d have to make do with instant noodles in her office. Her expression had been so serious, so aggrieved, that Lu Zizheng had almost believed her — so much so that refusing had felt slightly cruel.
Looking back now, Lu Zizheng only felt her appetite vanish.
So she ate a few hasty bites, cleared her tray, and returned to her office for her lunch break in a daze.
But Lian Xuan never let her off that easily. Lying on her desk, eyes closed, her image still floated clearly in Lu Zizheng’s mind, her voice still wound around her ears, again and again.
She wore a pristine school uniform, holding a tray, standing across from her dining table, smiling as she asked: “Zizheng, can I sit across from you?” Back then, Lu Zizheng had held her chopsticks, heart pounding almost out of her chest — caught between surprise and joy, she had nearly forgotten how to respond.
In the beginning, everyone smiled as if they were harmless, pure and clean as angels, warm and friendly as if genuinely kind.
It was all ancient history. Why couldn’t she just let it go with a casual “I’ve forgotten it all”?
Lu Zizheng didn’t understand herself either.
Why did she always have to remember every hurt so clearly, always feel compelled to take it out and rehearse the pain again and again — like slowly grinding a dull knife into her own flesh? Not fatal, but unbearably suffocating.
The author has something to say:
All these years, it’s not that Lu Zizheng can’t forget Lian Xuan. It’s just that the hurt and shadows Lian Xuan left her with have always weighed on her mind.
Lian Xuan always makes Lu Zizheng doubt life — whatever happened to trust between people?!
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