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A month later, Choi Jae-sun returned to Shanghai. He began to resume his old routine, still going to the bar every night, still not wanting Qiluo Ling to see him.
Despite this, his heart was always tense and trembling for her. His heart was like the watch on her arm; although she never noticed its tightly wound spring, that spring patiently counted the time for her. She might only catch a hurried glance at it during the countless seconds ticking away.
Finally, one evening, after Qiluo Ling calmly played a few pieces on stage, she walked down from the stage and approached the corner where he was sitting. It was clear that she had seen him.
She looked at him calmly and sat down opposite him.
"You’re back?" Qiluo Ling asked lightly.
"Yes, I returned last week."
"Oh, you said last time you left that you come to this bar every day. I don’t quite understand why you come here daily."
"I said it’s to listen to Piano Piece. Do you think that’s a seemingly reasonable reason or a ridiculous one?"
Qiluo Ling laughed, and the atmosphere instantly lightened.
The two began to converse happily, gradually delving deeper into each other's lives.
As time passed, after each of Qiluo Ling's performances, Choi Jae-sun started to walk her home. Each time he accompanied her downstairs, but she never invited him up to her place. Choi Jae-sun knew very well that this meant she had not yet accepted him in her heart and was not ready to let him into her personal life.
The cold winter finally passed, spring arrived, and the air was filled with an ambiguous atmosphere. Choi Jae-sun grew increasingly anxious. He strongly hoped for an emotional response from Qiluo Ling; he longed for her to love him, yearned to hold her in his arms, desired to taste her lips, and wished to walk into her heart.
On a night in March, as usual, he walked her downstairs. Unable to bear the emotional torment, he confessed his feelings to her in the slanted shadows of the building, even mentioning how many times he had watched her board the bus in the past.
"When did you start liking me?" Qiluo Ling quietly gazed at him.
"I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. You might think this is a cliché, but I'm speaking from my true feelings."
Her slightly parted lips shimmered with an unusual light in the darkness, and his gaze lingered on her lips, unable to look away for even a moment.
He lowered his head and kissed her beautiful lips. She did not refuse or resist; it felt natural for everything to happen, and he even sensed a hint of submission from her, as if she was also anticipating this moment. In her fragrant and warm lips, he felt her tenderness and also sensed her faint sadness. He could understand her warmth but did not know where her sadness came from.
He followed her upstairs to the door of her room. He had only been here once before, the time he brought her to see the place, even though it was he who helped her find it.
She slowly and cautiously pushed open the door, as if carefully opening a door for him, a door to her heart, allowing him to enter into his own world.
The room was tidy and simple, seemingly not allowing anyone to glimpse more of the stories within her heart. In this cozy atmosphere, her smile seemed brighter, her demeanor gentler; the cold and mysterious aura around her gradually dissipated.
Once inside, they kissed quietly for a while. Her upper body pressed against him, the softness of her chest made his heart feel like strawberries deeply immersed in thick cream. He gently kissed her earlobe and then lifted his head, looking at her with eager eyes.
Her face flushed red, breathing rapidly, body trembling; she couldn't speak and could only nod slightly.
When they reached the bed, they made love. The entire process was like an unparalleled Piano Piece, akin to heavenly music—melodies soaring or softly humming—rendering words utterly trivial.
Downstairs played Beethoven's "Pathetique Sonata," its melody filled with sorrowful emotions, concealing life's hardships while revealing inner pain.
The sunlight filtered in through the curtains of Pull Together, and the room was shrouded in darkness, yet her eyes sparkled in the gloom. He gazed deeply into her boundless eyes and saw a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors; the most intense hues led directly to her soul. He could almost touch her soft spirit.
However, this dazzling display lasted only a few seconds before it gradually faded away like a receding tide. The floral Fragrance began to fill the room. She buried her head deep in his chest, her softly curled long hair spreading out like petals.
After their intimate contact, he suddenly realized that his body was no longer the same. In their merging, he was nourished by her soul and transformed into another version of himself. Everyone comes from nothingness and returns to nothingness. The love between a man and a woman exists to alleviate the inherent loneliness of existence, deepening their understanding of life through their union.
She held him tightly. In her embrace, he felt an unprecedented warmth and comfort; fatigue and drowsiness slowly washed over him, and his consciousness began to dissolve bit by bit.
"I'm tired," he murmured.
"Sleep, sleep," she said gently, looking at him tenderly as she softly kissed his forehead...
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