Chapter 233: What Is Youth Without Passion? (4)
Translator: Lonelytree Editor: Millman97
The whole world was curiously quiet, and when Song Qingchun looked through the open curtains, she could see the full moon and glistering stars hanging in the sky.
Song Qingchun stared outside the window for half a minute before closing her eyes. As she tried to fall back to sleep, she heard again someone call, “Tingting! Tingting! Tingting!”
This time, the name was repeated three times, and each time the volume was louder and the tone more desperate than the one preceding it. Even Song Qingchun felt her heart wrench from the anguish in the voice.
As the third call faded, she suddenly heard the sharp sound of the ends of the coffee table dragging across the floor. Song Qingchun sat up in bed, completely awake.
So, the first two “Tingting” that she had heard were not a hallucination. She wasn’t dreaming; they were the cries of Su Zhinian, who was sleeping in the living room. His voice sounded incredibly depressed, like he was suffering in a great, painful struggle…
Song Qingchun suddenly pulled off the comforter, jumped off the bed, and dashed toward the bedroom door without even putting on the indoor slippers. As she pulled the door open, she stopped.
Only a single floor lamp was on in the living room, so there was only a dim light in an area of the room.
Su Zhinian was seated on the sofa, and his hands, which were gripping the comforter, were white from force; even the fabric was rumpled from being grabbed so forcefully. However, it didn’t seem like he had noticed her; he stared outside the window with an unfocused pair of eyes, his breathing coming fast.
His face was blanched, and she could see the beads of sweat that slowly glided down his face, charting a clear water trail.
Song Qingchun studied this Su Zhinian for a while before moving again. Unlike before, her footsteps were lighter and slower this time.
Her approach still alerted Su Zhinian. The man turned slowly around, and the gaze that fell on her was still filled with a certain degree of fear and helplessness, but that was quickly hidden by his usual chilliness. He coughed lightly and said apologetically, “Did I wake you up?”
That wasn’t true because she herself had been having trouble sleeping.
Song Qingchun shook her head and changed the subject. “Are you okay?”
Su Zhinian nodded with a “hmm” before turning his head away. He tried his best to appear relaxed and calm, but Song Qingchun noticed how tense his shoulders were.
She stood where she was for a moment before moving to the mini bar and prying the mini fridge open to retrieve a bottle of cold water. She then walked to Su Zhinian and passed it to him.
“Thank you,” Su Zhinian replied with his toneless voice, his head lowered, and not looking at her. He twisted the bottle open and took a generous gulp before placing the bottle on the coffee table and leaving the sofa to use the bathroom.
Su Zhinian locked the door from the inside and leaned on the sink. He stared at himself in the mirror and took several deep breaths before the pumping in his chest finally slowed down.
He had been dreaming again. He had dreamed of her walking away from him with her back toward him. He had tried his best to catch up to her, but no matter how hard he ran, the distance between them couldn’t be closed. Out of options, he’d yelled her name at the top of her lungs. His throat was dry from all the shouting, but still, she hadn’t turned back to look at him.
He had lost count of the times he had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming her name. Every time he did, it felt like he had caught a serious illness; it drained him greatly.
