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墨書 Inktalez
"Hello." I smiled politely and extended my hand to shake his. In that brief moment of contact, I felt the warmth of his palm, a warmth that inexplicably pressed down on me. I quickly withdrew my hand and tucked it back under the table, pretending to adjust the strap of my bag.
After he sat down, he casually asked, "Have you been waiting long?"
"Not really." I lowered my eyes, not wanting him to see my true emotions. I tried hard to appear natural, but I couldn't hide the heavy feeling that weighed on my heart.
Chen Jiahe began to speak. He talked about his work, mentioning that his team had recently secured an important project. He also shared his future plans, expressing his desire to find a partner who could understand him, someone to work hard and live life with together. His tone was steady, like a machine, devoid of any fluctuations; every word was precise and perfectly measured.
I focused on the curve of his lips, which formed a practiced polite smile, lacking any warmth. As I listened to him speak, it felt as though I was being pulled into an endless whirlpool. The arguments, the suffocating days, and his rigid notions of "responsibility" churned in my mind.
He asked, "What have you been busy with lately?"
"Just... work," I replied dismissively, not even bothering to meet his gaze.
"What about your hobbies?" he pressed on.
I looked up at him; his eyes still held that familiar analytical glint as if he were searching for a logically sound answer. I smiled slightly, but my tone couldn't help but carry a hint of coldness: "Mr. Chen, what do you think is the most important thing for two people to be together?"
He paused for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by my direct question. His brow furrowed slightly but quickly returned to its natural state. "Responsibility. If two people choose to be together, they should share responsibilities."
Hearing those words felt like a sharp jab to my heart. I let out a small scoff, just loud enough for him to hear: "I'm sorry, but we might not be suitable for each other."
He was clearly taken aback, the smile at the corner of his mouth stiffening. "Why? We just met; how can you come to such a conclusion so quickly?"
"My intuition tells me we are not on the same path." I stood up, placed the money on the table, and didn’t look at him again.
"Xiao Yan, you..." His voice was filled with confusion and a hint of reluctance, but I didn’t turn back or respond. I just wanted to escape from there.
The moment I pushed open the café door, a gust of cold wind hit me, bringing me back to my senses. The dim yellow streetlights cast a hazy glow as I walked aimlessly along the sidewalk. The emotions inside me felt like a spilled jar of mixed flavors—bitter and astringent, yet nowhere to pour them out.
Rejecting Chen Jiahe had been a plan of mine for a long time, but saying it out loud brought an unexpected wave of complex and heavy feelings. He wasn’t a bad person; in fact, he was more responsible and dependable than many others. But our rift had deepened to a point where it could not be mended. Rather than tormenting each other, it was better to end things early.
As I passed by a small shop, I stopped in my tracks. The store was unremarkable, with dim lighting and a display of various antique ornaments barely visible through the glass window. A man dressed in linen clothes and wearing black-rimmed glasses stood at the door. When he noticed me, he revealed a faint smile that felt both familiar and strange.
My feet moved closer to the entrance involuntarily. As I stepped inside, I could feel my heartbeat quickening with each step, as if I were walking toward an unknown fate.
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