Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Qin Zhi’ai raised her hand up to wipe the tears away and returned her smile.
She remembered that she had sung this song the first time she had played Liang Doukou’s body double. When Gu Yusheng had asked her for the name of the song, she had told him the name and also that it was her favorite and that she had always wanted to go to that singer’s concert. Unfortunately, she never had a chance to go.
He had not responded much that night when she had told him.
Everyone has unreachable dreams when they’re young, and for all kinds of reasons their dreams become their regrets, while leaving them with good memories.
When Qin Zhi’ai was young, she had saved six months of pocket change to try and go to that singer’s concert to see her in person. And now at this moment, the singer was right in front of her, singing her favorite song, for her and only her.
Would this count as a unique concert?
After drying her tears, her face was immediately wet again from the tears continuously flowing.
She would be telling a lie if she said she wasn’t excited; however, she was not a teenager anymore, which meant she had no impulse to run after a celebrity. She felt more touched by what Gu Yusheng had arranged for her to make up for his regrets from when they were younger.
…
When the performance was over, Qin Zhi’ai hugged the singer, whom she had loved since she was a teenager.
As they broke apart from each other, Qin Zhi’ai heard a fire crackling behind her. After subconsciously turning around to check, she saw millions of fireworks shooting up into the dark and bursting through the black sky.
She had not seen Gu Yusheng since she had returned from Beijing, but now he finally walked elegantly out of the colored smoke of the fireworks.
The singer next to Qin Zhi’ai said “goodbye” in a low pitch and walked away with the microphone in her hand.
Qin Zhi’ai glanced at the singer as she walked away, before turning back to Gu Yusheng.
As he walked very slowly toward her, Qin Zhi’ai became more nervous the closer he got to her.
When she could finally see the features of his face, she subconsciously gripped her clothes.
When he stopped three feet away from her, she began to hold her breath.
He quietly watched her as he carefully framed his words. Ten seconds later, he said, “Ten years ago, I heard the name ‘Qin Zhi’ai.’ I was not impressed by it.
“Nine years ago, I decided to give you up for my patriotic dream. I also gave you my fake number and saw you crying in the rain. You looked helpless.
“After I joined the military, I discovered I’d overestimated my ability to deal with the pain, and I underestimated your influence on me. Six years later, my memory loss chose to forget about you after my car accident.
“One year and 10 months ago, I saw you at my grandfather’s house. All I could think about was how really big your eyes were.
“Last year, I met you again at West University. Your eyes made me move from Shanghai to Beijing.
“Last year, I had sex with you after drinking too much. I did not know little troublemaker was you. I chose to play a fool after I realized you were little troublemaker. That was not the best choice.”
Others who’ve professed such truths to their loves were usually melodramatic or too perfect, but Gu Yusheng was irrevocably sincere.
He only spoke about the things he regretted, and Qin Zhi’ai did not get mad at all.
