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墨書 Inktalez
Perhaps it was because Tong Le had never truly experienced what love was, or perhaps it was because during her time with Ke Wenjie, she had never been genuinely cherished by him. When faced with Zong Zeyu's assertive advances, she felt not only nervous about being seen by others but also a strange sense of longing and enjoyment.
A thought crossed her mind: if only she had met Zong Zeyu earlier. Their encounter seemed delayed, yet it also felt timely. Still, she couldn't understand what Zong Zeyu saw in her. Her unfortunate circumstances and identity, her abilities or talents—none of them were particularly impressive. She almost forgot that she had once been viewed as a beautiful and wealthy woman, pursued by many men. But at some point, all the beauty had faded away like a frog slowly boiled in water, leaving her numb and battered.
Tong Le stopped struggling; she no longer pulled her hand away forcefully. In Zong Zeyu's broad palm, she felt warmth and safety. Yet, she quickly snapped back to reality. She could no longer place all her hopes for life in a man’s hands. She had learned this lesson painfully on a bloody path, where she had suffered greatly. She acknowledged that Zong Zeyu and Ke Wenjie were entirely different people, but even so, she would not make the same mistakes again. A woman who loses herself always ends up suffering terribly.
Tong Le set down her chopsticks and placed her hand gently on the back of Zong Zeyu's hand, giving it a light push. Ironically, her non-resistance prompted him to withdraw his hand.
Looking earnestly at Zong Zeyu, Tong Le asked, "What do you like about me? I can't figure it out."
Zong Zeyu replied with equal seriousness, "Then do you dislike me?"
Tong Le shook her head.
Zong Zeyu said, "Not disliking me means you like me."
Tong Le was taken aback by such a brazen logic; yet upon reflection, it didn’t seem entirely wrong.
She responded, "Have you eaten too many delicacies and grown tired of them? Is that why you want something different?"
Pointing at herself, she continued, "I’m a married woman whose marriage has failed. I’ve been brainwashed and deceived into losing everything. Even when I reached rock bottom, I lacked the courage to let go of everything and struggled in the mud. You have a clean romantic history; you’ve seen the world, come from a wealthy family, are highly educated and capable, and your looks are beyond compare—handsome and rich. So many exceptional women must be eyeing you like a prize. Yet here you are, ignoring all those delicacies and choosing me—the simple dish to satisfy your cravings."
As soon as she finished speaking, the waiter brought over a plate of dumplings and cheerfully announced that they were complimentary from the restaurant.
Tong Le awkwardly looked at the dumplings in the porcelain dish; this little noodle shop certainly knew how to set the scene.
Zong Zeyu always managed to catch the key points in Tong Le's ramblings. He watched her with interest and said, "So in your eyes, I’m good—flawlessly good."
Tong Le nodded. "You are very good—unquestionably so."
Zong Zeyu then asked, "So can I be chosen by you?"
In that moment, Tong Le’s mind offered no other answer: yes, of course she could choose him. She wasn’t foolish; she was a normal woman capable of feeling attraction. She no longer loved Ke Wenjie; her heart was empty now. Naturally, she would choose Zong Zeyu—who wouldn’t?
But what right did she have?
Tong Le remained silent.
Zong Zeyu felt as though he had offered her a lifeline when he said, "I will wait for you to get divorced."
For some reason, despite the absence of any sorrowful or touching words in their exchange, that single statement made Tong Le's eyes well up with tears. Time is precious, and how many people are willing to pause for a wounded soul, even if just for a moment, to listen to her joys and sorrows, her falls and redemptions?
In the silence between them, the small noodle shop bustled with activity, the rich aroma of food filling the air. It was not an ideal setting for a confession, yet it conveyed the most ordinary affection from extraordinary individuals.
Tong Le cried, and Zong Zeyu felt a bit flustered. She casually wiped away her tears and picked up her chopsticks, eating the noodles heartily. The restraint and grievances, the confusion and misunderstandings mixed with tears and broth, were swallowed down bite by bite.
Yes, she had lived like this for so long. Every day was filled with tears; no matter how difficult it was, she had to swallow it all. She had to survive. The little girl who once relied on her parents had to grow up and stand on her own.
Zong Zeyu didn’t understand why Tong Le was crying, but he chose to remain silently by her side. He knew she had endured pain; he too had experienced such moments. During those times, what he needed most wasn’t verbal comfort but silent companionship.
Their lives each carried their own burdens.
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