Chapter 34: The Rain’s Deception

“Beep—”

Outside the window, the rain grew louder. Winter’s biting wind, mixed with large raindrops, relentlessly hammered against the panes, sounding almost like hail.

Such a rain should not have fallen in this season, yet it had arrived.

Guan Qing clutched his phone, the room unlit. No one answered his call. As darkness descended, he sat on the floor of his cramped rental, the meager heating leaving him feeling cold.

For a moment, he found himself adrift, unsure of what to do.

Then, his phone suddenly rang. Guan Qing fumbled to open WeChat, where a short message from Xie Xu awaited: [I’m in the small town. The signal is bad. Let’s talk later if it’s important, okay, darling.]

Xie Xu’s voice was low, and a cacophony of human voices clamored in the background. Amidst the overwhelming downpour, Guan Qing had to strain his ears to catch the words.

The WeChat prompt indicated ‘The other party is speaking,’ so Guan Qing waited patiently. However, the connection was intermittent, and after a long silence, Xie Xu finally sent a voice message:

‘Let them understand on their own.’

‘Don’t tell them, don’t remind them, don’t… don’t let them see the truth.’

‘They still want to dream a little longer, even if it’s just to deceive themselves. To believe it’s Guan Qing’s bad signal, Guan Qing’s broken phone, Guan Qing being busy, and not—’

‘They don’t want them anymore.’

Guan Qing instantly grasped the deeper meaning of Xie Xu’s words. A pang of bitterness tightened his throat, and tears welled in his eyes.

In this world, a torrential rain fell, and two people listened to it across a phone line.

Guan Qing meticulously replayed both voice messages twice. Xie Xu seemed to be in an exceedingly noisy environment, with various people shouting boisterously in an unrefined S-city dialect behind him. Guan Qing sniffed, then typed: “I’m coming to find you.”

Xie Xu did not reply.

****

Guan Qing cooked himself a bowl of noodles, and as he ate, he scrolled through Xie Xu’s recent Weibo posts. Xie Xu’s posting frequency had decreased lately, with only occasional reposts of new movie advertisements or psychological content.

Guan Qing waited for a long time, but Xie Xu’s phone remained unreachable. A sense of urgency began to prickle him.

He casually turned on the television, which happened to be tuned to a local S-city news channel. The anchorwoman, dressed in professional attire, smiled politely as she announced: “We interrupt this program with breaking news. In recent days, our city has been hit by exceptionally heavy rainfall. Landslides and mudslides have occurred in multiple areas, including Peach Blossom Mountain. We urge all citizens—”

Landslides, mudslides.

Guan Qing distractedly lifted a chopstick full of noodles, then checked WeChat again. Still no reply. His chopsticks paused mid-air as he replayed the news report in his mind, and his entire body suddenly froze.

‘I’m in the small town.’

He opened WeChat with trembling hands and listened to Xie Xu’s voice messages once more. This time, he put on headphones and turned the volume to maximum, straining to decipher the noisy dialect behind Xie Xu. There were children crying, the exhalation of someone smoking, and a woman speaking in a local accent, complaining: “Why is this road so slippery? This rain is too heavy! When will this broken Peach Blossom Town get a proper main road?”

The man beside her tried to reassure her: “Soon, we’ll be in the mountains after this stretch.”

Her dialect wasn’t pure S-city dialect, but Guan Qing understood it perfectly. He had visited Peach Blossom Town once while researching extreme case studies for his thesis. Peach Blossom Town was sparsely populated, remote, and nestled in the mountains. Its dialect was unique, and the roads were impassable; Guan Qing had entered the town by ox cart.

A chill shot up from his feet, leaving Guan Qing utterly bewildered. More than anger, he felt a surge of panic and fear. He desperately wanted to convince himself that he had misheard, misunderstood, or that this Peach Blossom Town wasn’t the one Xie Xu had mentioned. But he couldn’t.

Mudslides, landslides.

Xie Xu’s prolonged silence—was it truly due to a bad signal, or was it…

****

Peach Blossom Town was remote; cars could only reach the foot of the mountain. The journey up required either climbing on foot or taking an ox cart or motorcycle.

Guan Qing’s heart hung suspended, more anxious and distraught than ever before. He located his car keys, grabbed some random snacks, a first-aid kit, and clothes, then threw open the door.

A flash of white light and the click of camera shutters. A microphone was thrust into his face. The reporter asked, “Mr. Guan, hello, can you explain the plagiarism incident, and also—”

Guan Qing had almost forgotten about it.

“I apologize, I have no comment.”

With red-rimmed eyes, he pushed past them, trying to leave, but he couldn’t. Many people blocked his path, accusing him of plagiarizing others’ work, their words implying he had clung to Xie Xu and exploited his love.

“There was no plagiarism… I love him, and it has nothing to do with his identity.” He was sweating profusely from anxiety and panic, on the verge of tears.

“Then, Mr. Guan, where is the evidence? Some say Mr. Xie and Jiang Lu are already secretly married, and your relationship is merely a contract. Please—”

“Get lost!”

Guan Qing could take no more. His emotions were already on the brink of collapse, and he was being bombarded by this nonsense.

Innumerable camera shutters clicked.

“If anything happens to him,” Guan Qing pointed at the crowd, his eyes red and his expression chillingly severe, “I will remember every single one of you.”

His gaze swept across their faces, as if truly committing each person to memory. That icy stare sent shivers down their spines.

This was starkly different from Guan Qing’s usual gentle and humble demeanor.

The reporters were stunned, involuntarily parting to clear a path. As Guan Qing neared the end of the corridor, someone finally reacted, attempting to stop him:

“Are you referring to Xie Xu? What happened to Xie Xu?”

This was news infinitely bigger than Guan Qing’s alleged plagiarism.

Guan Qing did not answer, but more and more people came to block him, threatening to return the situation to its original chaos. Guan Qing was, after all, just one person. Just as he felt utterly helpless, a voice cut through the air. The newcomer was gentle and polite, speaking slowly and deliberately, yet his presence commanded an undeniable authority even in the noisy environment:

“I have noted down the names of each of your publishing houses and media outlets. Some media’s Weibo reposts have already exceeded the specified limit, making them liable for defamation. I trust you are all aware.”

A hush fell over the crowd.

“How about this?” Ye Zi smiled. “You won’t get any news asking questions on the spot. I’ll treat everyone to coffee; let’s all disperse and go home early.”

“Who are you to—” A young reporter protested.

The older reporter beside him immediately stopped him, offered an apologetic smile to Ye Zi, and then whispered an explanation to the younger journalist. Phones rang one after another in the crowd, and after reading their messages, everyone’s expressions changed. They greeted Ye Zi, packed up their equipment, and left.

Guan Qing clutched his keys, waiting for the doorway to clear so he could squeeze out, but Ye Zi pulled him back.

He looked at Ye Zi, his eyes filled with a blank confusion. Ye Zi spoke a few words to him, and only then did Guan Qing’s gaze finally focus, truly seeing Ye Zi. The anger he had accumulated finally dissipated upon seeing a familiar face. He told Ye Zi: “Thank you, Ye Zi, but I have an urgent matter right now.”

“To save Xie Xu?” Ye Zi quirked his lips.

“I know there’s nothing I can do, but,” Guan Qing said without hesitation, “I just want to be with him.”

Whether to be with him in life, or to be with him in death.

Xie Xu was such a lonely person.

The thought of Xie Xu being alone in such a place, struggling amidst mountain rubble, unable to escape, even conjured an image in his mind: Xie Xu, pale and bloodied, yet weakly smiling at him. Guan Qing felt he couldn’t wait another moment; he wanted to see Xie Xu now.

He wasn’t mentally prepared, but then again, this kind of preparation… he would never be ready for it.

“To say something out of turn,” Ye Zi said, handing him a hot coffee he had been holding, blocking his path. “Do you really believe Xie Xu when he says he’s there?”

Guan Qing paused, looking at him. “Ye Zi, thank you for helping me just now. But—”

Ye Zi could see that Guan Qing was displeased. At this moment, Guan Qing was like a powder keg, ready to ignite. When it came to Xie Xu, he couldn’t tolerate even a speck of dust in his eyes.

“I know you’re anxious,” Ye Zi said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Aren’t you curious why, despite early weather forecasts predicting heavy rain, he would go to such a place himself? With Xie Xu’s status, what could possibly be so important that he had to risk danger by going into the mountains personally?”

“Furthermore, think about it, he was planning to—”

“First, I believe Xie Xu isn’t that kind of person.” He smiled, his face pale, the previous anger in his eyes softening into a tender, lingering affection when he spoke of Xie Xu. “I’ve thought a lot today. I am willing… willing to accept every part of him.”

Whether it was the sunny and cheerful Xie Xu, the flirtatious Xie Xu, the handsome Xie Xu…

Or the childish and immature Xie Xu, the gloomy and radical Xie Xu, the insecure Xie Xu.

“Everyone’s personality is complex, right?” Guan Qing smiled. “Since he is willing to accept me as I am, I am also willing to accept him. He lacks a sense of security, he… is childish, dishonest, unwilling to be candid with me, abuses his gender advantage—I am willing to help him change little by little. And if he can’t change, it doesn’t matter.”

“It’s this very him that I’ve fallen in love with.”

“Perhaps our personalities clash, perhaps our time together will consume each other’s passion… But since he is willing to embrace me as I am, I am also willing to embrace him, no matter what kind of him there is.”

Guan Qing didn’t smile, but the curve of his lips was incredibly gentle, an expression so tender, so inclusive, so deeply affectionate, it made one want to drown in it. He was entirely immersed in his own unreserved love, almost glowing on this overcast day. He said:

“How will we know if we don’t try?”

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