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墨書 Inktalez
He wanted to check his phone but realized it wasn't with him.
Beside him, Feng Yao smiled brightly, her fingers gently stirring the surface of the water. "A Chuan, this hot spring feels so nice," she said, her voice sweet and laced with a hint of flirtation.
Ji Chuan forced a smile in response, but inside, he felt an inexplicable emptiness. It was as if something important had quietly slipped away from him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't grasp it.
"A Chuan, what are you thinking about?" Feng Yao's voice interrupted his thoughts. She leaned closer to Ji Chuan, her warm breath brushing against his neck.
Ji Chuan froze for a moment, snapping back to reality without looking at the exquisitely made-up Feng Yao. Yet, there was no flutter in his heart. The spring water remained warm, but he felt a chill enveloping him.
Suddenly, the image of Su Qin flashed through his mind—the lonely figure of Su Qin going for a prenatal checkup. At that moment, he desperately wanted to call her and hear her gentle voice.
He didn't bother to wipe the water droplets off his body and nearly slipped as he hurried toward the changing room. Ignoring Feng Yao's concerned question, Ji Chuan rushed to grab his phone. The once enthusiastic Su Qin, who loved sharing the little details of her life, hadn't reached out to him.
"Sorry, the number you dialed is currently busy. Please try again later..."
"Sorry, the number you dialed is currently busy. Please try again later..."
Again and again, why wasn't she answering?
Pick up the phone!
Ji Chuan returned home as quickly as he could. When he opened the door, everything seemed unchanged in the house—except for a sense that something was missing. The pink strawberry bear slippers at the entrance were gone.
The succulent on the windowsill was gone. He immediately walked over to the wardrobe, where only his clothes remained. Everything related to Su Qin had vanished from the house.
On the coffee table, he noticed a divorce agreement and a stack of photographs. Ji Chuan flipped through the photos, each one depicting moments with Feng Yao—at the bar, in Paris, on Feng Yao's bed.
It was over; Qin Qin knew everything. Ji Chuan's mind buzzed, and a sudden wave of fear washed over him. He collapsed beside the coffee table and caught sight of the trash can.
Inside were remnants of their past: the pink crystal bracelet he had given Su Qin on their first date, the couple's rings they bought together for Valentine's Day, and the wedding ring—the symbol of their love—now discarded in the trash.
Su Qin wanted nothing to do with him anymore. It was impossible; Su Qin loved him too much. She couldn't possibly want to leave him. He had to find her and beg for her forgiveness. They still had a child—yes, they had a child.
The third month after I was discharged from the hospital was when I contacted Ji Chuan again. I knew he had been searching for me. I didn’t want to see him; if I deliberately hid, he wouldn’t be able to find me. I reached out to him to discuss the divorce.
Ji Chuan looked much more haggard; his stubble was unkempt, and his shirt was wrinkled. When he saw me, he nearly lost his balance and almost fell.
I looked at him calmly, and he noticed my flat stomach.
"Qin Qin, where is the baby?" His eyes were bloodshot, and his voice trembled as he asked.
"I've assembled the crib, and I bought a longevity lock for the baby, along with a silver bracelet. I've chosen the best postpartum care center and found the most experienced maternity nurse for you."
"That's enough, Ji Chuan," I interrupted him.
He didn't respond, just stared at me with red-rimmed eyes.
"Qin Qin..." Ji Chuan reached out to hug me.
I took a step back, and his outstretched hand froze in mid-air before finally dropping helplessly.
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