Liquid splashed out of the cup, the loud crash startling everyone else in the shop and drawing their gazes over.
Song Muxiang could feel countless pairs of eyes landing on him. His brain couldn’t compute whether the others had heard what Xia Zhaoye had just said—right now, his system had completely stopped responding.
“I… you…” How were all these words in Chinese, yet totally incomprehensible when strung together?
Seeing the panicked state of the person before her—gaze blank, lips parted slightly—Xia Zhaoye realized her behavior moments ago had been a bit too eye-catching. She turned her head and put on a rather somber, dark expression, which finally prompted the onlookers to sheepishly pull their glances back.
“…I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” Xia Zhaoye’s voice softened, laced with clear guilt. She raised a hand intending to pat Song Muxiang’s shoulder to soothe him, but mid-air, her arm stiffened and she pulled it back.
Song Muxiang blinked. “It’s nothing.”
He pulled out two paper napkins and bent down to pick up the fallen cup from the floor. Xia Zhaoye hastily got up and leaned over to help him clean up, but Song Muxiang discreetly declined her help with stiff movements.
“Excuse me, I’ll have to trouble you guys to clean this up a bit.” Placing the napkins and the mostly-spilled cup back on the table, he stood up and gave the shop clerk an apologetic wave. Without pausing his steps, he turned around and walked straight out the door.
The whole process looked as if he hadn’t seen Xia Zhaoye standing beside him at all.
With one hand resting on the armchair’s armrest, Xia Zhaoye remained frozen in that slightly bent-over posture, listening only to the squeaking sound of the coffee shop door opening and shutting.
Too impatient.
Too terrifying!
Song Muxiang took wide, rapid strides, walking as fast as an office worker trying to catch the first bus of the morning.
The only difference was that he had no idea what his destination was.
Images surged through his mind like a rising tide. That sentence—”I can be the child’s father”—was like some kind of spell, echoing repeatedly and making his temples throb painfully.
He had been swamped out of his mind for over a week. During the day, he had to help with the department’s archives and run all over the place doing side jobs as a freelance photographer; at night, he pulled all-nighters to rush deadlines. On top of that, various troubling matters kept him from sleeping well, forcing him to squeeze out time just to visit the hospital.
Just after dealing with Lin Huan’s relentless nagging, Xia Zhaoye had now gone off her rocker in front of a whole crowd of people, as if her iced Americano had been spiked with rat poison…
Song Muxiang’s brows furrowed tighter and tighter despite himself. His feet moved forward mechanically, but every step felt increasingly hollow, like he was walking on cotton.
The scene in front of him rippled like a stone tossed into water, dark shadows overlapping layer upon layer, bringing along a throbbing pain in his nerves. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breathing grew increasingly rapid.
His legs gave out, and Song Muxiang slumped forward, falling onto his knees on the ground.
A drop of cold sweat slid down his cheek and landed on the concrete with a soft pat. Supporting himself with both hands, he felt a little better once his center of gravity was lowered, and he slowly regulated his breathing.
Fortunately, there was hardly anyone on this street today, saving him from another social death. He could use this position to rest for a bit.
As for Xia Zhaoye, whom he had left behind in the coffee shop…
A screech of brakes sliced harshly through his eardrums, sparking another surge of irritation in Song Muxiang’s heart.
“Where’s this speed demon from now…”
“Muxiang!”
…Why was it this voice again?
Song Muxiang didn’t want to look up, but glancing out of the corner of his eye, he spotted that familiar, ostentatious purple Porsche by the curb. The sound of panicked footsteps drew rapidly closer, and a pair of hands slid beneath his arms, effortlessly hoisting Song Muxiang up from the ground. “Are you okay?! Are you feeling unwell?! I’ll take you to the hospital!”
“I’m fine… just a bit dizzy.” Song Muxiang was supported upright, though he felt even less comfortable than when he was on the ground. “Let me catch my breath.”
“How can you be fine when you suddenly collapsed?! Is it the ba—”
“Ahem, ahem, ahem.” Bringing up what shouldn’t be brought up again.
Song Muxiang gave Xia Zhaoye a push to the side, creating some distance between them. Xia Zhaoye looked worriedly at his pale face, insisting, “Let’s go to the hospital to get checked. Your complexion looks terrible.”
Going to the hospital would be the death of him. “I just need to go back and rest. I haven’t been sleeping well these past few days.”
“Then I’ll drive you.”
“I called a ride, don’t trouble yourself.” Song Muxiang instinctively raised his voice, then turned his gaze away and added, “That day… what you heard was just a joke. You don’t need to take it seriously, I’m really fine.”
Having been rejected repeatedly, Xia Zhaoye looked like she didn’t even know where to put her hands. Song Muxiang took half a step back, offering her a smile in an attempt to ease the atmosphere, then turned around and walked toward the other side of the intersection.
Xia Zhaoye didn’t follow him, watching his figure recede. Only when she saw Song Muxiang pull open a taxi door and get in at the intersection did the tense muscles in her body relax, and she let out a long sigh.
I want to solve all your worries for you.
But do I have the right to do that?
Song Muxiang dragged his feet back home. The moment he shut the door, all strength drained from his body, and he simply collapsed on the foyer floor without even changing out of his shoes. His phone slipped from his pocket, vibrating twice, but he didn’t check it.
Another vibration. Song Muxiang closed his eyes.
Then, the ringtone for a voice call burst forth.
The sound amplified along the floor, blasting noisily into his ears. Song Muxiang reached out, scrambled around to swipe the phone over to himself, and answered, “What?”
“Holy crap, where did you go again?” Luo Yuan asked. “I went to the club center right after I saw your message, but it was pitch black and totally empty! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I’m back home,” Song Muxiang spoke dully. “If I had relied on you, the day would be long gone.”
There was the sound of wind on Luo Yuan’s end, as if he were walking outside. “How can you say that? I got dragged away by the counselor for a lecture this afternoon; I couldn’t check my messages even if I wanted to!”
As if remembering something, he shifted the topic: “Oh right, I happen to have some explosive news to tell you. Want to hear it?”
“Oh, how explosive?”
“Xia Zhaoye—hey, do you still remember her? That really dark-skinned kid who grew up playing with us and later went abroad.”
Song Muxiang closed his eyes. “And then?”
Luo Yuan: “She’s back! Surprising, right? I just found out too—my mom told me. It’s been over five years since we last saw her; we definitely have to get together one of these days, right?”
Song Muxiang’s tone was entirely unbothered: “Got it.”
“Why that reaction?” Luo Yuan was puzzled. “Didn’t you two use to get along super well? I remember you even went out of your way to see her off when she went abroad. You’re not excited at all after not seeing her for so long?”
What was there to be excited about? Far more exciting drama had already unfolded repeatedly.
“My mom told me too,” Song Muxiang lied casually, rolling over on the foyer floor to switch positions.
The wind noise on Luo Yuan’s end faded, his voice picking up an echo as if he had stepped indoors. “Auntie told you? That’s rare. I thought she didn’t care about anything; to think she’d bring it up on her own.”
“Yeah,” Song Muxiang echoed, already wanting to hang up. After all, lying down right now made him too lazy to move; he felt that as soon as Luo Yuan shut his mouth, he could fall asleep the next second.
“Anyway, did you hear what I said? When should we ask Old Xia out? It’s been five years—hey, do you think she stayed in the US so long she forgot how to speak Chinese?”
“Whatever you want…” Song Muxiang’s voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, drifting shut involuntarily as Luo Yuan’s voice on the other end became muffled and hard to hear.
Forget about all that nonsense, let me catch a quick nap first.
Beep-beep-beep-beep, click.
“By the way, I checked out a bar two days ago. The vibe is amazing! Oh right, can you even drink right now?”
Song Muxiang’s eyelashes fluttered. Luo Yuan’s voice suddenly felt closer, accompanied by the sound of the digital door lock being entered.
“You, you, you, you, you—what happened to you?!”
A sudden force lunged onto him, grabbing his shoulders tightly and shaking him non-stop as the person attempted to haul him up from the floor. Song Muxiang knit his brows, reluctantly opening his eyes to a narrow slit, his vision blurry.
“Are you going into labor?! What do we do?! Don’t be scared, I’m calling 120 right now, yes, 120…”
“What on earth are you doing?”
Luo Yuan’s finger froze over the keypad. Looking at Song Muxiang, who was rubbing his eyes with an intensely annoyed expression, he finally breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re fine?”
Song Muxiang shifted his body to sit up, smoothing out his clothes that had crumpled from lying down. “What could possibly be wrong with me? I was tired and taking a nap, only to be scared half to death by you.”
“Taking a nap?! Do you know you’re in a high-risk group right now?! The moment I opened the door, I thought I walked into a crime scene! You scared me to death!” Song Muxiang stood up and walked toward the living room, with Luo Yuan chattering non-stop behind him: “Even if you want to sleep, you can’t sleep here! What if you crush the baby?”
At the word “baby,” Song Muxiang paused mid-action while pouring water.
“It’s not that fragile. Even if there really were a baby, it’s only a month along; it’s not even as big as a fist.” He took a sip from his glass, watching Luo Yuan stand in front of the fridge picking out a drink. “Speaking of which, why did you suddenly run over to my place? There’s no food for you to scrounge today.”
“What kind of talk is that? Can’t a best friend care about you?” Luo Yuan chugged two huge gulps of Coke. “Seeing the messages you sent me, I thought Lin Huan came looking for you again. I was afraid he stalked you all the way into the apartment, so I came to play the knight in shining armor!”
Lin Huan got solo-killed by an electric scooter. As for the knight in shining armor, he had better handle that other person who wasn’t acting normal first.
“What are we eating? I’ll order delivery,” Luo Yuan pulled out his phone. “My treat. I’ll get you something nutritious to build up your strength, and later we can video call Old Xia together.”
“Wait, why video call her?”
“To welcome her back, of course!” Luo Yuan tossed the empty soda can into the trash, appearing somewhat surprised by Song Muxiang’s reaction. “Don’t you want to see what she looks like now? See if she turned into a total foreigner?”
Song Muxiang’s eyes darted around evasively. “Uh, let’s skip today…” He really couldn’t face that “foreigner” right now.
After all, just over an hour ago, this buddy of his had publicly declared in broad daylight that she wanted to be the father to the kid in his stomach, nearly making him want to dig a hole and crawl right into the earth from sheer embarrassment.
Luo Yuan raised an eyebrow slightly, staring at Song Muxiang. “Something’s off.”
Song Muxiang: “What’s off this time?”
“Didn’t you two use to be super close? Why are you acting so weird now, making excuses just to avoid a video call?” As Luo Yuan spoke, his eyes rolled back and forth, his brain working at lightning speed. Suddenly, his voice paused as if he had just unraveled a massive secret:
“Could it be… COULD IT BE THAT THE CHILD IN YOUR STOMACH IS HERS?!”