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墨書 Inktalez
After breaking up with Lu Ming, my life felt as if it had been hollowed out. Every day, I mechanically typed away at the keyboard, completing those monotonous and repetitive advertising proposals. In the evenings, I curled up on the sofa of my rented apartment, staring at the flickering neon lights of the tall buildings outside, with only the buzzing sound of the air conditioner in my ears.
In the drawer, that silver necklace lay quietly. The sapphire sparkled faintly under the dim light, like a cold eye staring intently at me. It was so exquisite that I couldn't bear to throw it away, yet it felt like an invisible chain, locking me in that failed relationship. Lu Ming's controlling nature suffocated me, while my strength to resist seemed so insignificant.
"How ridiculous," I murmured softly, my voice so hoarse that I could barely hear myself. I reached for the pendant around my neck; its cold touch made my heart tighten instantly—its existence felt like an invisible shackle.
"Why does my love always end up like this?" I whispered to myself as tears slid down my cheeks. My fingers clenched tightly around the pendant, turning pale from the pressure, and that sense of despair washed over me again. "If only I could start over..."
As soon as the words left my lips, the pendant suddenly erupted with a blinding light! Everything around me began to spin wildly, and a piercing wind roared in my ears. I tried to steady myself but felt as if I were standing on air. When the dizziness finally eased, I opened my eyes wide and found myself in a café.
Across from me sat a familiar figure, stirring his coffee.
It was Chen Jiahe.
My breath caught in my throat as the scene before me left me momentarily dazed. Wasn't this just like our first blind date? The café still had that oppressive orange-yellow lighting; his brow was slightly furrowed, his expression focused, as if the entire world revolved around the cup of coffee in his hands.
"Xiao Yan?" His voice interrupted my thoughts, concern flickering in his gaze. "What's wrong? You don't look well."
"I'm fine." I instinctively forced a smile, though my voice came out dry. "I might just be a bit tired lately."
He didn't press further but simply pushed a glass of lemon water toward me. "Drink some water."
His movements were so natural that they made my nose tingle. All the past criticisms and discontent suddenly seemed trivial in this moment.
"Thank you," I said softly, lifting my cup to mask my emotions. As I watched him earnestly and awkwardly trying to find a topic to discuss, an unusual feeling surged within me: this man might be far better than I had ever imagined.
We talked about many things, from work to life, and then to hobbies. He remained concise but always managed to hit the nail on the head. When we touched on books, he casually mentioned Haruki Murakami: "His books are perfect for you; they always carry a sense of longing amidst loneliness."
His words caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless as I stared at him blankly. Perhaps he understood me better than I thought?
As we left the café, he offered to walk me home. Under the dim streetlights, he told a few not-so-funny programmer jokes, yet for some reason, I found myself laughing. When we reached the bottom of my building, he hesitantly spoke up: "Xiao Yan, I'm really happy to see you today... Can we meet more often?"
His tone was cautious, tinged with a hint of hope. I paused for a moment, warmth flooding my heart: "Sure."
Back in my room, I lay on my bed unable to sleep for a long time. His careful tone while speaking, the way he furrowed his brow while stirring his coffee—these images replayed in my mind over and over. I had previously thought of him as dull and lacking in romance, but now I realized that what I had dismissed as unromantic was actually a different kind of steadfast reliability.
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