Is This The Right Way To Repay A Favor? Chapter 41

Worth It

This person, just two hours ago, was insisting on driving home himself.

Now he’s sleeping soundly.

He probably would have collapsed halfway before reaching home.

Truly lacking in self-awareness.

Shen Zhiyu bent down and picked him up.

Jiang Zhou mumbled something in his sleep but didn’t wake up, merely snuggling deeper into Shen Zhiyu’s embrace.

The touch of the cold cheek didn’t alleviate the heat in his body; instead, it intensified the clamor.

Shen Zhiyu weighed the person in his arms; he was still so light.

How was it that after a month of care, he had only gained this little weight?

Shen Zhiyu placed him on the bed.

The man unconsciously wrapped his arms around Shen Zhiyu’s neck, clinging to him and pulling Shen Zhiyu down onto the bed.

This person was much more endearing when asleep.

Shen Zhiyu kicked off his shoes, took the opportunity to wrap his arm around Jiang Zhou’s waist, and lay down beside him.

Jiang Zhou woke up again in the middle of the night, roused by the heat.

He once again felt the scorching chest and the confining grip around his waist.

He looked up and indeed saw Shen Zhiyu’s face close by.

He was asleep.

But Jiang Zhou remembered falling asleep on the sofa; he wasn’t sure how he ended up on Shen Zhiyu’s bed.

Shen Zhiyu’s body was burning hot, like a blazing furnace.

Jiang Zhou was the complete opposite; his body was cold all year round, whether awake or asleep, like ice that never melted.

Jiang Zhou indulged in the warmth radiating from the person beside him.

After a long while, he reluctantly moved away. He carefully removed the hand clamped around his waist.

Jiang Zhou had initially worried that he would be unable to move, like that time they watched the sunrise, but unexpectedly, this time was very smooth. He gently lifted the arm, and Shen Zhiyu released his grip, even turning his body slightly in the other direction.

Jiang Zhou quietly breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time, a strange sense of loss welled up in his heart.

Now there was absolutely no reason to stay here.

Jiang Zhou quietly slipped out of bed and left the room in the dark.

The moment he left, Shen Zhiyu opened his eyes.

He reached out and touched the spot beside him, where a trace of body heat still lingered.

The frenzy within his body had never subsided; instead, it showed signs of escalating.

This was the last time.

Next time, he would absolutely not let him walk away like this.

—-

Jiang Zhou returned to the room next door.

The bed was cold. His body, which had just been warmed, quickly cooled down.

Jiang Zhou curled up under the covers, clearly feeling his body temperature drop.

At this moment, he had a strong impulse to sneak back to that warm bed and that scorching embrace.

But he couldn’t.

In fact, before last night, Jiang Zhou had entertained fantasies.

Even when Yuan Chong suggested it, he truly wanted to try.

Whether it was a night of folly or complete surrender, he wanted to test if he could truly take that step without incurring self-harming punishment.

But just as he was about to take that step, Jiang Zhou clearly and cruelly felt the agitation of the punitive cost.

It turned out that it hadn’t disappeared; it was omnipresent.

Jiang Zhou retreated again.

He ultimately could not stand openly beside Shen Zhiyu, nor could he interact with him normally. He was twisted and abnormal; he shouldn’t, and couldn’t, defile a god.

This was the last time.

Next time, he would definitely turn and flee.

—-

The next day, after having breakfast at the Shen family home, Jiang Zhou drove Jiang Yue back to Yongnan Village.

Jiang Hua and Aunt Fang had gone up the mountain to pick tea leaves.

Jiang Zhou decided to stay home for a few extra days and help out at the tea plantation.

The “Peach Blossom Dream” crew had packed up, but the staff stayed behind for two more days to tidy up.

One day, Jiang Zhou returned from a tea plantation and happened to pass by the “Peach Blossom Dream” set. On a whim, he walked in.

There were still a few scattered staff members inside. Seeing Jiang Zhou, they respectfully greeted him.

Jiang Zhou walked to Youran Residence.

The layout and furnishings inside were exactly the same as before, but the guests’ personal belongings had been cleared out, and the tables and floor were spotless.

Jiang Zhou went to the room where Shen Zhiyu had stayed.

The bed sheets and duvet covers had been replaced, and the diffuser stone had also been changed, emitting a fresh green tea scent.

A brief month of life, intimate yet distant.

“A Dream of Peach Blossom Utopia”—the name was truly apt.

All the past events here, when recalled, felt like nothing more than a dream.

Now, the dream was over, and everyone should return to reality.

Jiang Zhou was about to leave.

A flash of brilliant light appeared by the window.

Jiang Zhou stepped forward and found a bracelet caught in the window gap.

It was a platinum bracelet. The chain was a winding series of crescent moons, interwoven with deep blue and silver light, centered by a star-shaped azure main stone.

Jiang Zhou stared at the bracelet, completely frozen.

This bracelet complemented the one he had bought at the auction. The one he owned had a winding starlight chain, and the azure main stone was shaped like a moon.

Had Shen Zhiyu left this behind?

Just then, a staff member walked in, speaking on the phone.

“A bracelet? We didn’t find one when we cleaned. The windowsill, you say? I’ll check again carefully…”

“Mr. Jiang.” The staff member noticed the bracelet in Jiang Zhou’s hand. “Mr. Jiang, was this bracelet found in this room?”

Jiang Zhou nodded.

The staff member spoke into the phone, “We found it. Mr. Jiang is here; he found it.”

“Mr. Jiang?” On the other end of the phone, Shen Zhiyu heard the name and walked over, taking Wang Lei’s phone. “Put him on speaker.”

The staff member turned on the speakerphone. “Mr. Jiang, Teacher Shen.”

“Jiang Zhou?” Shen Zhiyu’s voice came through the speaker.

The two hadn’t contacted each other in the past few days.

Hearing his voice, Jiang Zhou felt a moment of disorientation.

“Yes.”

“You found my bracelet?” Shen Zhiyu didn’t exchange pleasantries or ask why he was back at Peach Blossom Dream; he immediately asked about the bracelet.

“Yes.”

“That’s great. Could you hold onto it for me? Give it to me the next time we meet,” Shen Zhiyu said.

Jiang Zhou paused. “Alright.”

Shen Zhiyu thanked the staff member and hung up.

Jiang Zhou put the bracelet into his pocket and left Peach Blossom Dream.

—-

Jiang Zhou stayed in Yongnan Village for five more days.

He didn’t leave until the first batch of tea leaves had been harvested.

The night before he left, Jiang Zhou and Jiang Hua were drinking tea in the courtyard.

Since the beginning of spring, the weather had suddenly warmed up. The evening wind was no longer biting, blowing overly gently.

The father and son drank cup after cup of tea, neither speaking.

Jiang Hua actually wanted to talk to Jiang Zhou, but he hesitated several times.

It wasn’t until Jiang Zhou was preparing to go upstairs that he finally spoke.

“A’Zhou.”

Jiang Zhou looked at him.

Jiang Hua’s health was much better than before. Not only could he walk around, but he could also handle farm work as well as anyone else in the village. But he was getting old, and being exposed to the sun and wind all day made him look somewhat weathered, his face covered in deep wrinkles.

His eyes, however, were clear, carrying a simple, unadorned purity.

Jiang Zhou’s eyes resembled his—round, black, and bright, moist and glistening, like a dog’s eyes.

“Do you… like Teacher Shen?” Finally, Jiang Hua asked the question.

Jiang Zhou stared blankly at his father, his hands unconsciously clenching and unclenching.

A few years ago, Jiang Hua had urged him to marry. Even after Jiang Zhou graduated from university, he kept pressuring him to get married and introduced him to several girls.

Jiang Zhou didn’t know how to explain to Jiang Hua that he liked Shen Zhiyu, nor did he want to mislead those girls. After declining several times with excuses, Jiang Hua never brought it up again, and never pressured him afterward.

At the time, he found it a little strange. Later, he often heard his father mention how busy the tea plantation work was, and assumed that was why he didn’t have time to pressure him.

Now it seemed that his father had discovered Jiang Zhou’s feelings for Shen Zhiyu long ago.

Since things had come to this, Jiang Zhou had nothing left to hide. He nodded silently.

“Since you like him, go after him boldly.”

“Your father isn’t an old fogey; I won’t oppose you two.”

“But, A’Zhou…”

“Your father hopes you clarify whether your affection for him is true love, or love derived from a desire to repay a debt of gratitude?”

In the beginning, Jiang Zhou truly approached Shen Zhiyu with a heart full of gratitude. But the more he followed his schedule, the more he saw, the nature of that gratitude subtly changed without him realizing it.

It wasn’t until the absurdity of that night, after crossing the line with his desires, that Jiang Zhou truly realized his feelings for Shen Zhiyu were more than simple gratitude.

He genuinely liked Shen Zhiyu.

“I know.”

“If you can distinguish between them, your father is relieved.”

Jiang Hua reached out and patted Jiang Zhou’s shoulder, sighing softly.

“It’s my fault. I dragged you down.”

“If you hadn’t grown up in a family like mine, our A’Zhou would surely have been raised better than he is now.”

“I’m sorry, son.”

Jiang Zhou’s nose stung, and tears uncontrollably streamed down his face.

This was the first time the father and son had openly discussed this topic in over twenty years.

When he was very young, Jiang Zhou had truly harbored resentment.

He resented why his mother left after giving birth to him, why his father was constantly ill, and why his family was so poor.

But no one had done anything wrong.

His mother wanted to stay and watch her child grow up, and his father wanted to give his child a beautiful, prosperous life.

Unfortunately, not everything in reality goes as planned.

Jiang Zhou slowly came to understand this truth later on.

Since then, he had never complained about anything.

Now he had clearly grown up, even becoming an independent person who held the power of survival over others.

Yet, at this moment, hearing his father’s “I’m sorry,” his tears flowed uncontrollably.

It felt similar to the loneliness he experienced during his school days.

It was something the person involved had hidden in the deepest part of his soul, concealed so well that it never caused trouble or stirred any emotion—so well that even the person himself hadn’t noticed it.

But at a certain moment, that well-hidden thing was suddenly unearthed, crushed, and scattered to the wind.

It wasn’t just pain, but a sense of relief that transcended time, a self-reconciliation.

“A’Zhou.”

“Your father wants to tell you that you are far more outstanding and better than you think.”

“So, if you like him, go after him boldly.”

“Our A’Zhou always deserves the very best.”