TLDMDTBS Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Arthur.

He didn’t say his real name.

Ji Ruan seemed to smile slightly, or perhaps just casually moved the corners of his mouth.

The afternoon sunlight mixed with the shadows of the trees fell on his face, making him look pale and tired, yet there was a certain unusual beauty that silently captured the attention of those around him.

“Okay, Mr. Bai,” he closed his notebook. “For the custom piece, do you have any specific requirements?”

“Requirements, well, not really,” Arthur slouched against the sofa. “But since it’s a gift for an elderly person’s 80th birthday, I hope the craftsmanship can be exquisite.”

Ji Ruan opened his notebook to make notes and nodded for him to continue.

“I care a lot about this piece. The elderly person is my best friend’s grandfather. This is the first gift I’ve given him in many years. You can understand me, right?” He raised an eyebrow.

Ji Ruan smiled, “Of course.”

Arthur crossed his legs and played with his fingers, as if reminiscing about something. “We’ve known each other for a long time. When we were kids, we lived close by. I often went to his house to play. He didn’t have many friends, and he was always very happy to see me.”

“In fact, he wasn’t a good child in the eyes of teachers and classmates; he was odd and proud, with a sparse sense of human connection. Many elders said he needed to be polished.” He chuckled. “But I really liked him that way. What’s so good about becoming a product that comes off an assembly line? A genius is meant to be different.”

Ji Ruan’s hand that held the pen gradually stopped. He realized that these words seemed not to align with the consideration for the custom piece.

However, Arthur was oblivious, continuing to speak to himself, “But later, I moved away, and we were apart for a while. He was really sad at that time and cried, begging me not to leave.”

He covered his mouth and chuckled softly, seeming a bit embarrassed. “What could I do? It was my father’s job change; I had to follow. So I told him it was okay, that we would definitely meet again.”

Arthur, dressed in white, looked almost innocent under the sunlight streaming in from the window. He turned to Ji Ruan, his gaze soft and direct.

“I kept my word. In high school, we ended up at the same school again. He had grown up, became handsome and charming, and made a couple of new friends, but his sense of connection seemed even thinner. He seemed to not open up to anyone.”

“—Of course, we still got along well. Sometimes his other friends would even get jealous.”

Hearing this, Ji Ruan’s expression became a bit complicated. It’s true that Gu Xiuyi lacked a sense of human connection, but did Li Sui’an and Song Tezhu know they were jealous?

Clearly, Arthur was unconcerned about Ji Ruan’s expression, still speaking in an oddly victorious tone: “But unfortunately, after graduating from high school, I went abroad to study. I ended up living overseas for many years, and we didn’t meet again.”

He swept a glance over Ji Ruan, a faint smile on his lips. “I wonder what kind of people are around him now, what friends he’s made. But I think, starting from today, we should still have the best relationship, don’t you think?”

Ji Ruan looked back at him with calm eyes.

From the moment he saw Bai Yue for the first time, his heart had a dull pain, as if countless tiny needles were repeatedly tormenting his fragile organ, as if some force of the world was being imposed upon him.

Even though Ji Ruan didn’t really feel that Bai Yue was difficult to deal with and never saw him as a rival, this kind of physiological repulsion still followed him like a shadow. The longer Bai Yue stayed by his side, the more it tortured him.

But Ji Ruan did not show any signs on his face. He did not answer Arthur’s question but rather smiled, “Mr. Bai must be an artist, right?”

His lips were pale, his voice somewhat insufficient—a sign of his waning physical condition—yet his sitting posture was rather casual, relaxed, with a slight smile that seemed to disregard everything.

Arthur’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “That’s right, can you tell?”

“Yes.” Ji Ruan closed his notebook and placed it on the table, gently rubbing his wrist. “Artists generally have more divergent thinking and can extend unexpected content from a small point.”

His tone was friendly: “From this perspective, Mr. Bai is a great artist.”

The implication being, after talking for so long, not a single useful statement was made; his grip on the notebook had made his hand sore.

Arthur, of course, could discern Ji Ruan’s impatience hidden beneath his polite language, and his smile faded considerably.

He looked at Ji Ruan’s hands, pale and transparent like glass, stretching from the wrist to the fingertips, almost colorless. One could imagine that the owner of these hands was indeed quite ill.

If it weren’t for the wedding ring on his ring finger adding a touch of humanity, it would hardly resemble hands that a person could have.

Arthur moved his gaze from the wedding ring, lifting the corners of his mouth slightly. “Thank you, your words are really interesting.”

Cheng Zizhang walked over with a tray, setting a cup of tea in front of both of them, and smiled, “Here, sir, since you’ve been talking for so long, have some tea.”

Ji Ruan was the first to lift his teacup and take a small sip.

Arthur paused for a moment before ending this unilateral exchange of sharp words. He lifted the teacup to his nose and sniffed, exclaiming, “This tea is so fragrant!”

He looked at Cheng Zizhang with a smile: “Indeed, domestic tea has the best flavor. After staying abroad for so long, I almost forgot what good tea really tastes like.”

Cheng Zizhang smiled brightly: “I’m glad you like it.”

Arthur took a small sip, enjoying it with narrowed eyes, then asked, “If it’s convenient, could you tell me where you bought it? My friend also loves tea. I’d like to bring some back for him; he would definitely rave about it.”

Ji Ruan was quite ordinary, not having many particularities regarding tea. However, the more he heard, the more he felt that the Gu Xiuyi in Bai Yue’s words was not the same person he knew.

When did Gu Xiuyi start liking tea?

As far as he remembered, the set of fine porcelain tea utensils in the villa’s cupboard had hardly been used. Zhao Ayi rarely made tea for Gu Xiuyi, and everyone in their company, just like Gu Xiuyi, relied on coffee for survival.

If one had to mention it, it was perhaps the upcoming 80th birthday celebration for an old man who was fond of various kinds of tea.

Cheng Zizhang, not knowing Bai Yue and completely unaware of the current situation, treated him like an ordinary guest and humbly said:

“Well, it’s not as exaggerated as that. This is tea we picked ourselves. Since the teacher likes it, we go to the cooperative tea factory to pick it every spring. Compared to those precious varieties outside, it’s quite inferior—however, if you like it, how about I pack some for you?”

Arthur’s face showed delight: “That would be great, thank you for your kindness. However, since I’m taking it to give to a friend, it wouldn’t be right to take it for free from you. Let me pay as usual.”

“You’re too polite,” Cheng Zizhang collected the tray. “Just a moment, I’ll help you pack it.”

Arthur nodded: “Thank you.”

As Cheng Zizhang walked away, Ji Ruan spoke to Arthur, “Alright, Mr. Bai, please describe specifically what you would like for the custom piece.”

His fingers intertwined and rested on his thigh, his back relaxed against the sofa cushion, presenting a lazy yet imposing demeanor.

Perhaps he didn’t even realize that this expression was strikingly similar to Gu Xiuyi’s when he entertained guests.

Arthur met Ji Ruan’s gaze, his eyes fixed on him for a moment, and then he retracted his smile: “An elderly person’s 80th birthday is a significant occasion. I want a traditional character for ‘longevity’.”

He took a sip of tea, and the friendliness on his face disappeared without a trace: “It should be made with the finest silk as the base, embroidered with gold and silver threads—grand, exquisite, and luxurious, shining brightly under the light. Can this be completed before the 10th of next month?”

Ji Ruan glanced at the date; there was still nearly a month left: “No problem.”

“—Sir, your tea leaves are ready.” Cheng Zizhang approached politely.

Like a magic trick, Arthur’s face once again bore a gentle smile as he paid Cheng Zizhang. “Thank you, our conversation has been good, but I have matters to attend to, so I won’t disturb you any longer.”

Ji Ruan didn’t persuade him to stay, symbolically seeing him to the door.

Arthur took a few steps but turned back, beaming brightly: “Thank you, Ji Ruan. I enjoyed chatting with you today.”

Ji Ruan’s gaze remained calm: “I don’t think I told you my name.”

“Is that so?” He continued to smile. “Sorry, I forgot. See you tomorrow, I’m looking forward to your piece.”

After sending Bai Yue off, Ji Ruan returned to his workspace with heavy steps.

It was only just five in the afternoon, yet he felt as if he had been working continuously for three days and nights, a form of unprecedented fatigue creeping from deep within.

He probably really needed a break.

He opened his bag, slowly began to pack his things, and suddenly felt a strong palpitation, the world instantly going black before his eyes.

Crash—

The bag in his hand fell to the ground with a thud.

His water cup, keys, and tissues scattered everywhere.

Ji Ruan’s face turned instantly pale as he squatted down, clutching his chest. His heart raced rapidly, accompanied by sharp pains, causing cold sweat to pour down.

It was exactly the same.

The same as the heart palpitations he experienced after waking from every nightmare.

Ji Ruan understood that this was probably not a genuine problem with his heart, but something this world forced him to endure.

He seemed to be unable to avoid certain events no matter what.

“Xiao Ruan? What happened to you?”

The noise he had just made seemed to alarm Cheng Zizhang, who quickly rushed over. Seeing Ji Ruan squatting on the ground, pale as a ghost, she hurried to help him.

“Where do you feel unwell?” Cheng Zizhang stammered, “Should I call an ambulance?”

Ji Ruan managed to gather himself a bit, forcing a smile despite his pale face. “It’s fine, I… just have a bit of low blood sugar.”

Cheng Zizhang looked doubtful, thinking something seemed off, but seeing Ji Ruan’s condition—dizzy, pale, and sweating—was indeed symptomatic of low blood sugar.

She didn’t think too much and hurriedly stood up: “Then I’ll find something for you to eat.”

“No need,” Ji Ruan grabbed her sleeve and pulled out a cherry candy from his scattered bag. “I’ll eat this; it works faster.”

Seeing that he had a way to cope, Cheng Zizhang didn’t insist on forcing food on him and thought for a moment: “If you don’t mind, you should go back first. Your health is the most important. Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Today, the teacher had gone out for something, leaving only Ji Ruan and Cheng Zizhang in the studio.

Ji Ruan shook his head: “It’s fine, senior sister, you stay behind. Someone needs to watch over here, I can just take a taxi.”

Cheng Zizhang hesitated: “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

The sweet and sour cherry candy greatly calmed Ji Ruan’s agitated heart. He smiled, “Really, it’s fine.”

Cheng Zizhang pondered for a moment before finally giving in: “…Alright, then I’ll see you out. I must see you get on the car before I feel at ease.”

Ji Ruan helplessly replied, “Okay.”

The wave of palpitations came quickly and left just as fast. By the time they reached school, it had almost completely dissipated.

However, Ji Ruan still felt a deep annoyance and fatigue.

He had no appetite, but to avoid a real case of low blood sugar, he hesitated and ultimately went into the cafeteria to pack a bowl of clear wontons.

It was still May, yet the sunlight in the evening was exceptionally strong, making Ji Ruan squint.

He carried the small wontons while walking, the scorching sun piercing directly at his eyes, causing spots of white light to dance before him, forcing him to lift a hand to shield himself.

Walking felt a bit strange; his footsteps felt heavy, but his body felt light and somewhat swayed. The fingers holding the wontons were tight but hardly felt any weight.

The cafeteria wasn’t far from the dormitory, but by the time Ji Ruan returned to his room, he was drenched in sweat. He didn’t usually sweat much, but today felt like he was about to release sweat for the entire year.

He assessed his condition but didn’t immediately eat the wonton; he first boiled some hot water, adding salt before drinking half a cup, then opened the container to start his dinner.

The wontons looked a bit clumped together. Ji Ruan ate a few and couldn’t quite taste anything, his head still dizzy.

Halfway through his meal, he suddenly felt nauseous, rushed to the bathroom, and threw up. Only then did his sluggish brain begin to register—he seemed to be suffering from heatstroke.

He had gotten heatstroke after being exposed to the May sun for just over ten minutes…

Ji Ruan was once again gaining new insight into his body’s condition.

He leaned against the washbasin, sitting on the toilet for a while, then went out to pour himself half a cup of diluted saltwater to drink. Once his condition improved a bit, he hastily showered and changed into dry clothes, turning on the air conditioning and cuddling under the covers.

Buzz—

Han Xiaolin sent a message.

[How are you feeling? I’m back from class. Do you want me to bring you some dinner?]

Ji Ruan paused for a moment, then remembered he had taken a leave of absence that morning due to feeling unwell, so Han Xiaolin probably thought he had been resting in the dorm all day.

He thought for a moment and replied: [No need. Just bring back some Huo Xiang Zheng Qi for me. I think I have a bit of heatstroke, but I couldn’t find any in the dorm.]

[Han Xiaolin: ??? You got heatstroke in your dorm in May, Princess?]

Ji Ruan: “…”

Ji Ruan knew he would say that.

[I went to the studio in the afternoon; it was too sunny on the way back.]

Han Xiaolin took a while to reply: [Alright, are you sure you’re okay? Should I come back right now and take you to the infirmary?]

Ji Ruan carefully assessed his current physical state. Lying on the bed, he felt considerably more comfortable, not as dizzy anymore, just a faint headache and nausea that weren’t serious.

He weakly typed: [Forget it, I don’t want to move; it’s too hot outside. The Huo Xiang Zheng Qi should be able to handle it.]

[Han Xiaolin: …Alright, you lie down for a few minutes. I’ll be back soon!]

[Ji Ruan: Already lying down/ Cat Bowing.jpg]

After putting down his phone, Ji Ruan’s mind was in disarray. He wanted to take a short nap but couldn’t get past the whirl of thoughts and the slight headache that lingered.

In helplessness, Ji Ruan had no choice but to close his eyes and rest.

Just a few seconds later, his phone vibrated again.

Ji Ruan frowned fiercely. What is with all the interruptions today?!

Irritated, he opened his eyes and froze upon seeing the screen.

—Gu Xiuyi was calling for a video chat.

During Gu Xiuyi’s business trip these days, they had been video calling every day. In the past, Ji Ruan would pick up without any burden upon seeing such a call.

Today, however, he hesitated for a long time.

Just as the ringing was about to end, Ji Ruan slowly pressed the answer button.

Gu Xiuyi’s smiling face appeared on the screen, but when he saw the surroundings of Ji Ruan, his expression changed: “Why are you in bed so early?”

It was about the time Ji Ruan usually had dinner.

Ji Ruan’s emotions were mixed. With a brain flooded with countless thoughts, he momentarily didn’t know what to say.

However, his reliance on Gu Xiuyi had almost become a habit. Before his brain could fully respond, his mouth moved first:

“Gu Xiuyi…”

His voice was soft and small.

Even if the signal on Gu Xiuyi’s side wasn’t too good, he could still pick up the strong sense of grievance and weakness in that word.

Right after, the image shook, and Gu Xiuyi seemed to have moved to a place with better signal and more quietness. His voice suddenly became clearer.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you feeling unwell?”

Ji Ruan had been in a state of chaos and panic all day. Although he had been dizzy and uncomfortable earlier, it had kept him from thinking too much.

Now that his mind was clearer, when he suddenly heard Gu Xiuyi’s voice, all the accumulated grievances from throughout the day surged out like they had found an outlet.

Ji Ruan felt a tightness in his nose and a lump in his throat. He bit his lip, looking at Gu Xiuyi on the video:

“I’m so tired today…”