Chapter Seventy-Two: Sharing the Pain

When I saw Gu Ruoyan, although I was genuinely happy, my teasing remark had clearly embarrassed her, leaving me deeply regretful for my own flippancy. I chastised myself inwardly: Tang Qian! The woman sitting across from you is your benefactor. If not for her care back then, you might have been out of a job half a year earlier, let alone transferred to the company’s planning department. What a wonderful woman she is! She’s already done more than enough for you. For all she’s done, you ought to respect her, to repay her kindness! Treat her as you would family. Now that she needs your help, how could you hesitate to agree, and even crack such inappropriate jokes? How utterly wrong of you!

I smoothed my expression, speaking with seriousness and sincerity: “I’m sorry, Manager. I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just… making a joke. I never meant to offend you, please don’t take it to heart.”

Gu Ruoyan quickly recovered from her embarrassment, nodding. “I understand you. I can’t vouch for others, but I trust you! Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come to you.”

Seeing that she bore me no grudge and still trusted me, I finally relaxed, savoring another drag of my cigarette. Suddenly, Gu Ruoyan seemed to remember something, stood up and said, “Oh, I bought a lot of fruit! Tang Qian, what do you like? There are bananas, tangerines, apples, and even a bunch of American grapes. I’ll go wash some for you.”

I hurried to protest, “Hey, that’s not necessary. I’m fine with anything—just having a cigarette is already nice enough.” But she paid no heed, bustling into the kitchen to wash the fruit.

Resigned, I glanced at my watch—half past ten at night. Who knew how late it would be by the time Gu Ruoyan fell asleep?

Soon, she returned with a bowl of freshly washed fruit, urging me to eat. Unable to refuse, I took a sweet tangerine, peeled it, and ate. She perched on the sofa, legs tucked up, watching me with delight. As soon as I finished, she handed me a banana, “Here, have another!” I had no choice but to take it. Before I’d even finished the banana, she was already peeling an apple with a fruit knife.

Watching her busy, earnest manner, I felt a sudden pang in my chest. She must have been lonely for so long that now, just having someone to talk to made her so excited—even serving someone brought her such joy. It was so pitiful.

Peeling the apple, Gu Ruoyan said, “Tang Qian, can you come earlier tomorrow evening? I’ll make several good dishes to thank you properly. My cooking is actually quite good, you know. How about it?”

I hesitated, not answering right away. She quickly realized, “Oh, right—you have a girlfriend. Not only do you have to leave her alone at night, you can’t even have dinner together. She would mind, wouldn’t she?”

I forced a smile, thinking, Mind? Which woman in the world would be so generous as to let her boyfriend spend every evening with another woman? That would be asking for trouble.

Her gaze dimmed, the excitement fading from her face. “Look at me, only thinking of myself, not considering your situation at all. It’s already too much for me to ask you to accompany me every night, and I was still hoping to monopolize more of your time. Am I being too greedy?”

I pondered: accompanying her at night wasn’t anything improper, but it was certainly best if Qiu Jieqin didn’t find out. Anyone but me and Gu Ruoyan would be suspicious. How could I explain? A man and a woman alone every night, nothing at all happening—who would believe it? The best course was simply not to mention it, especially not to my girlfriend. Luckily, I didn’t live with Qiu Jieqin yet, or it would be even more complicated.

But though Gu Ruoyan said she was being greedy, her disappointment was plain. I thought further—agreeing to keep her company would mean less time with Qiu Jieqin, but Gu Ruoyan was different; she was more pitiable, needed me more, and it was only temporary. Though I might not be with Qiu Jieqin as often for a while, we still had a lifetime ahead. My main task now was to help Gu Ruoyan walk out of the shadow of her divorce and regain her courage for life. When she could finally let go of her pain, that would be my cue to quietly exit her life.

Having thought it through, I smiled. “Tomorrow night? Sure, I’ll come early. I’ve always wanted to see Manager Gu’s cooking skills. We’ve worked together for over a year, but I’ve never seen you in action.”

Gu Ruoyan was overjoyed, almost not daring to believe it. “Really? You mean you’ll come?”

I nodded. “Yes. It’s just dinner, isn’t it? Why wouldn’t I come? Just don’t blame me if I eat too much.”

Overjoyed, she shoved the peeled apple into my hand. “How could I mind? The more you eat, the better! Here, eat the apple—I’ve just finished peeling it.” She even picked up a cigarette, offering it to me. “And smoke—let me light it for you.”

I laughed. “Manager, do you want me to eat the apple, or smoke, or do both at the same time?”

She realized her excitement had gotten the better of her, blushing as she retracted the cigarette. “Eat the apple first, then. Don’t laugh at me, Tang Qian. It’s been such a long time since I’ve really cooked at home. The thought of having a proper meal, like a real family, is making me a little too excited.”

I ate the apple silently, sighing inwardly. For most people, cooking a meal and eating together at home was the most ordinary thing in the world, but to her, it had become a rare happiness. Just my agreement had made her so flustered with joy. I couldn’t help but resent the man who abandoned her—so heartless, leaving Gu Ruoyan with not a single loved one, forced to live all alone. Even sharing a home-cooked meal had become a luxury.

That night, Gu Ruoyan was so happy, constantly urging me to eat, drink, and smoke. Eventually, I was so full that I had to refuse several times before she finally stopped. As the minutes ticked by, she showed no sign of sleepiness. It must have been past eleven. If she didn’t go to bed soon, I wouldn’t be home until after midnight.

Though I’d promised to keep her company at night, I couldn’t actually sleep there. Returning home so late every night was hardly appropriate.

I decided to remind her, but subtly, so as not to hurt her feelings. Weighing my options, I deliberately yawned widely during our conversation, hinting that it was getting late and she should go to bed.

Sure enough, Gu Ruoyan glanced at the clock on the wall and exclaimed, “Oh? It’s so late already? No wonder you’re sleepy. Sorry, sorry—I should get to bed. I… I’ll fall asleep right away.” Flustered, she hurried off to the bathroom.

I lit another cigarette, waiting resignedly.

A few minutes later, she emerged, having washed up, and called me into the bedroom to keep her company. Once inside, I pulled a chair over to the bedside, just as I’d done the night before, while she crawled under the covers, looking at me. Her gaze suddenly reminded me of many years ago, when my little sister was still a child—every night before bed, she would look at me the same way, waiting for her brother to tell her stories of princes and princesses.

But Gu Ruoyan’s gaze didn’t mean she wanted a story. Why did it feel so familiar?

It wasn’t until much later, when I asked my sister, that I finally understood. But at that moment, I was puzzled.

Gu Ruoyan lay on her side, staring at me. Suddenly, she smiled. “Having a man at home makes all the difference. I no longer have to worry about a burglar hiding under the bed, or mice climbing onto it.”

Her smile was pure and content. With that gentle smile, she closed her eyes.

But after a while, she opened them again, apologetic. “But what if I can’t fall asleep?”

I had just taken a drag from my cigarette, but her question made me laugh so hard I coughed it all out. When my sister was little, sometimes even after I’d told her a story, she’d beg for a second or third, insisting she still couldn’t sleep. Usually, I’d make up especially short stories to get her to settle down. If all else failed, I’d say, “That’s enough, it’s late—close your eyes and go to sleep!” And almost every time, she’d say, “But what if I can’t fall asleep?”

My sister was terribly ticklish, so I’d use my secret weapon: “If you don’t sleep, I’ll tickle you!” She would squeeze her eyes shut, terrified I might actually do it. Then I’d gently soothe her, patting her back, and eventually she’d drift off.

Now, with Gu Ruoyan asking me the same thing, how was I supposed to answer? Warn her that if she didn’t sleep, I’d tickle her?

I cleared my throat. “I… don’t know. You’ll just have to take your time and try.”

Gu Ruoyan sighed softly. “When my husband and I were still on good terms, whenever I couldn’t sleep, he would hold me in his arms and gently stroke my back. It felt so nice—I’d fall asleep without even realizing it.”

I was startled—surely she wasn’t expecting me to do the same?

She gave a bitter smile. “But that was two years ago. He hasn’t held me to sleep in two whole years. These days have been so hard…”

As she spoke, a single tear slid slowly down her cheek. I knew she was thinking of painful memories, but didn’t know how to comfort her, so I kept silent.

She continued, “You must think I’m foolish, right? I suppose I am. I knew long ago he was seeing someone else, but I pretended not to notice, not wanting to tear away the veil. As long as he didn’t leave me, sometimes I thought I could just endure it. But when a man’s heart changes, not even ten oxen can pull him back!”

She sighed deeply, her expression bleak. Haltingly, she recounted the story of her ex-husband’s affair.

It turned out her ex-husband had been a general manager at a trading company—nothing special before, but then he met a clever and resourceful hostess. With his good looks, he won the hostess’s affection, and through her introductions, he met many influential business figures. Thanks to her support, he struck several major deals and quickly became successful. Naturally, he and the hostess became lovers. No one knew what spell she cast, but from then on, he abandoned his wife, eventually even moving out to live openly with the hostess. Gu Ruoyan’s once-happy life was destroyed, and now, divorced, she had essentially been left alone for two years—a terrible ordeal for a woman her age.

I finally understood why Gu Ruoyan was always so stern and sharp, even harsh, at work. Unhappiness in life must have been a big reason.

That night, Gu Ruoyan talked late into the night. Out of sympathy, I didn’t remind her of the time. I was tired myself, but forced myself to stay alert with cigarettes.

In the end, she asked me to give her my hand; only when she held it did she finally fall asleep. I knew that in the morning, she’d feel much better. Sometimes, when hurt is bottled up inside, it only grows heavier; but once spoken, the burden lifts, and the pain eases.

Gu Ruoyan was that kind of person—she’d rather drink herself into oblivion than share her pain with others. She had no close friends, and that made her suffering worse.

By chance, I had become the only person in the world she could confide in, and in doing so, I had solved two problems for her: she now had someone to share her pain with, and by sharing it, the pain lessened.

People say that sharing happiness doubles it, while sharing pain halves it. Whether that’s true or not, it certainly lifts the weight from one’s heart and makes suffering lighter.

When I was sure Gu Ruoyan was asleep, I crept home quietly. By the time I took a taxi back to my place, the car had barely stopped when the rear door was flung open. A girl’s voice said as she got in, “Driver, to the Guotai Hotel, please, and make it quick!”

The voice was so familiar. I turned, just as the driver switched on the interior light, and found myself face-to-face with the girl who had just climbed in. She let out a shriek, reacting instantly as she jumped out and ran off at top speed.

I shouted after her, “Xu Xin! Why are you running?”