This city had scenery similar to Nanjing and even a similar name—Nancheng.
He was quite a homebody. Though he had lived in Nanjing for many years, he had never truly explored the city. So whether the streets of Nancheng resembled those of Nanjing, he couldn't say. But he had a peculiar fondness for this place, despite its unfamiliarity.
It was late spring, and the air seemed to carry a faint floral fragrance. The sunlight was soft and lingering, as if making up for a winter's worth of absence, spreading its warmth everywhere.
Qi Liangqin sat on the bus, wearing headphones and listening to music—"Spring Breeze Ten Miles" by the band Deer Xiansen.
I'm thinking of you from inside the Second Ring Road
You're in the distant mountains, where the spring breeze stretches ten miles
Today's wind blows toward you, bringing rain
I say, all the wine in the world can't compare to you
Listening to this song, Qi Liangqin felt his mood lift. The bus passed over the river bridge, where the water shimmered with golden ripples, reflecting the essence of spring. Every undulating wave seemed to carry a trace of sunlight's brilliance.
Yan Songwei told him that the gathering would be at a Korean restaurant near Tan Qingqing's place.
In reality, Tan Qingqing didn't even like Korean food-she preferred Sichuan cuisine, the spicier, the better. She loved bold flavors. But ever since she got together with Yan Songwei, she had suddenly become delicate and refined, as if she had completely forgotten the days when she used to share street food with him.
The meal was painfully dull. Qi Liangqin was nothing more than a third wheel. Tan Qingqing and Yan Songwei were all over each other, and he strongly suspected that Tan Qingqing had invited him just to flaunt her love life. The two of them kissed passionately right in front of him, their tongues making slick, wet noises, forcing Qi Liangqin to lower his head in embarrassment.
Yan Songwei wiped the corner of his mouth and said, "Tasty."
Tan Qingqing blushed and laughed, then turned to Qi Liangqin and said, "Eat, go on, don't mind us."
Qi Liangqin replied, "I'm full."
"So where should we go next? How about a bar?"
Tan Qingqing immediately shook her head. "No way. Do you know what your mom hates most about me? From now on, I'm keeping my distance from places like that."
"We're just having fun. My mom won't know."
But they had both underestimated Qi Liangqin. They didn't realize that behind his seemingly pure and simple facade hid a true master of manipulation.
Because Qi Liangqin was no longer the same person he was when he first signed the contract with Yan Songwei—back then, he was only thinking about making some quick money. Now, he had his eyes set on something far more valuable. He wanted to stay in the Yan family for as long as possible. Because in his eyes, there was now Yan Bozong.
It was almost certain that if Qi Liangqin divorced Yan Songwei, his chances of ever crossing paths with Yan Bozong again would be close to zero. And there was nothing in this world more important than Yan Bozong, not even the money he once craved so desperately.
So, in the novel, Qi Liangqin began scheming—on one hand, entertaining Yan Songwei and Tan Qingqing, while on the other, secretly reporting them to Madam Yan.
In reality, Qi Liangqin himself despised this kind of behavior, even if he deeply loved the character of Qi Liangqin. The infighting among people in the same country disgusted him—it was petty and short-sighted. A person who couldn't stand to see others succeed and lacked tolerance for others could never achieve greatness. Qi Liangqin was shortsighted—he failed to see that his contractual marriage with Yan Songwei was actually a hindrance to his relationship with Yan Bozong, yet he clung to it as a means to get closer to him.
It was frustrating to watch. If he had control over the story, the first thing he would do was successfully pair up Tan Qingqing and Yan Songwei, freeing himself from the situation and plotting a better course for himself.
But for now, he had to follow the storyline. So, he had to betray them.
In reality, bars and nightclubs were places that the Qi Liangqin in the novel frequented, but he himself had never been to one. He had always been a well-behaved student, a top achiever from childhood to adulthood. As a kid, he never stepped into internet cafés; as an adult, he stayed away from bars, always believing that nothing good ever came from those places. Of course, that was just his personal bias, but still, he had no desire to go.
But Yan Songwei dragged him along. "No way, you have to come, at least stay for a while."
Once inside, Yan Songwei took a few selfies with him and posted them on his social media.
His posts could be seen by Madam Yan, Yan Yuan, and the rest of the family. The whole point of posting was to let them see that he wasn't out partying alone—he was with his "partner."
But then Qi Liangqin suddenly thought of something and asked, "By the way, should I add your family on WeChat?"
"Yeah, you probably should. I didn't even think about that," Yan Songwei replied, flipping through his contacts and giving him the WeChat IDs of his family and a few friends. "Now it feels like we're really a family."
As soon as he said that, he left Qi Liangqin behind and went off to have fun with Tan Qingqing.
Qi Liangqin sat at the bar, ordered a pineapple beer, and sipped it while sending out friend requests.
Madam Yan didn't respond. Yan Yuan accepted quickly, as did a few of Yan Songwei's friends, who even exchanged a few words with him. Then, Yan Bozong also accepted his request—but said nothing. He was probably busy. Or maybe he was just ignoring him.
The bar grew louder and louder, and Qi Liangqin decided to leave. He told Yan Songwei and Tan Qingqing. Since they had already taken the necessary photos, Yan Songwei didn't insist on keeping him there and just said, "Stay out a bit longer, wander around. There's nothing waiting for you at home anyway."
Qi Liangqin nodded and quickly slipped out of the bar. At the nearest intersection, he hopped on a bus.
The world suddenly quieted down. He put on his headphones and took a window seat, still listening to Spring Breeze Ten Miles. When he liked a song, he would listen to it on repeat until he was sick of it.
The late spring sunlight spilled over him. As he gazed out the window, a thought suddenly crossed his mind. He pulled out his phone, opened WeChat, and entered Yan Bozong's profile.
It felt as if he were peeking into Yan Bozong's life.
Yan Bozong didn't post much. His most recent update was from half a year ago, and most of his posts were corporate advertisements—nothing personal. There were hardly any photos of himself, and the few that existed were from media reports, showing him at ribbon-cutting ceremonies or business meetings.
Yet even in those pictures, Yan Bozong stood out from the crowd. When he stood, he was tall and upright; when he sat, his posture remained straight and full of energy.
Yan Bozong was truly an exceptional man. It was hard not to like him, not to be moved by him. In this world, he carried the aura of a leading man—his charm was irresistible.
Then, Qi Liangqin came across a wedding photo.
In the picture, Yan Bozong looked much younger, his features still carrying a hint of youthful softness. Beside him, dressed in a white wedding gown, was his wife—Shen He.
She was, objectively, an ordinary-looking woman. She wasn't tall, her skin wasn't fair, and she was rather thin. Yet she clung to Yan Bozong's arm, smiling sweetly.
A strange discomfort crept into Qi Liangqin's chest—jealousy.
He felt ashamed of himself for having such feelings. What right did he have to feel uncomfortable? Yan Bozong and Shen He were husband and wife, a proper couple. Yet, no matter how he reasoned with himself, jealousy still lingered.
Shen He was lucky. She had married a good man, a man desired by so many others—she must have known that. And yet, she held onto him so effortlessly, neither too tight nor too loose. She must have felt proud, triumphant.
Being a woman was good, Qi Liangqin thought, both wistful and ashamed.
As someone with ordinary looks himself, finding a man was nearly impossible. He was already at an age where he should have been with someone, yet he remained a virgin, alone. But Shen He—she had a man like Yan Bozong.
Marriage. A sacred ceremony in a sacred church, where vows of love were exchanged. Even though vows were just words, fleeting and fragile, he still envied the moment.
No one had ever said those words to him. No one had ever held his hand and vowed, "I will love and cherish you for a lifetime, in wealth or poverty, in health or sickness, until death do us part."
He let out a breath and looked up at the window. The damp spring light reflected in his eyes, his slender neck tilting back as if unwilling to let loneliness and sorrow overwhelm him.
It would happen—one day, it would happen.
As long as he kept his heart sincere and passionate, even if he grew old and frail, he would eventually find someone who loved him just as much as he loved them.
He had always believed that. And he still did.