Drunk On The Night Breeze - Chapter 35
Chapter 35
Ruan Lingfeng fled after all.
Tao Zhi had already anticipated this possibility. Back when they returned from the hospital, at the moment they were about to part at Ruan Lingfeng’s doorstep, Tao Zhi had looked into his eyes and said softly but seriously: “Don’t hide from me. Let me be able to reach you at any time.”
At that time, Ruan Lingfeng had nodded.
But Ruan Lingfeng fled anyway. This “flight” wasn’t a physical departure; he was still there, living his life according to his usual routine, and he didn’t even deliberately ignore Tao Zhi’s messages.
His escape was subtle. On the surface, he seemed to be facing things head-on, but every response he gave kept Tao Zhi at arm’s length. Rather than hiding, it was more like he had built an invisible barrier around himself.
He maintained contact with Tao Zhi, though it was usually Tao Zhi who initiated it. When Tao Zhi asked if he felt unwell over the last few days, he would simply say, “The suppressants work very well.”
Suppressants. Ruan Lingfeng did use them, but not many. Tao Zhi’s scent still lingered in his home. Initially, the scent was intense; if an outsider had smelled it, they would have thought Ruan Lingfeng had shattered a bottle of aged wine in his living room. As time passed and the scent faded, Ruan Lingfeng found a jacket—he wasn’t sure if Tao Zhi had left it on purpose. When he held the jacket, it felt as if the Alpha were right there beside him.
Relying on these lingering traces of the Alpha, Ruan Lingfeng didn’t actually use much suppressant. But he wouldn’t tell Tao Zhi the truth; he only said the suppressants worked well.
He truly thought so… next time, he would likely have to rely solely on drugs to get through those difficult periods.
Furthermore, when Tao Zhi asked if he was free to meet, Ruan Lingfeng wouldn’t say no directly. Instead, he would send Tao Zhi a copy of his schedule and express with seemingly heartfelt sincerity that he was just too busy.
Sometimes he really was busy… but some items on that schedule were added at the last minute.
Ruan Lingfeng hadn’t changed his door code, and Tao Zhi still knew it. Previously, Tao Zhi might have shown up unannounced, but now he had taken a step back, fearing that an uninvited visit would displease his Omega. Tao Zhi would ask in advance: “If you’re busy, should I just wait for you at your place?”
Ruan Lingfeng would simply reply: “I’ve seen paparazzi downstairs lately, probably waiting for you. Come back in a while.”
Ruan Lingfeng never said it explicitly, but as it happened more often, the rejection in his tone became unmistakable.
Tao Zhi wasn’t stupid. Moreover, he wasn’t exactly a patient person, nor did he enjoy making a fool of himself. After a while, just as Ruan Lingfeng wished, the contact from Tao Zhi gradually dwindled.
Just like the Alpha’s scent in the house, as the days went by, the presence faded until it was almost undetectable.
Ruan Lingfeng told himself this was normal. The previous surge of emotions was nothing more than pheromones playing tricks, combined with an illusion created by spending so much time together. Feelings sparked by pheromone attraction and the dependence born of proximity shouldn’t count. Now, everything was finally back on track; those prior events were just a beautiful detour off the main course. His heart had pounded when it happened, but as time passed, he would forget why it ever beat so fast in the first place.
That was what he told himself.
Yet, when he opened his usual playlist in the middle of the night, what surfaced in his mind wasn’t just the melody, but the image of Tao Zhi standing on stage on his birthday, singing to him alone. Ruan Lingfeng knew he had a good memory, but he hadn’t expected to remember every tiny expression on Tao Zhi’s face for every single lyric.
Should I change my favorite playlist too, then?
Time always flies when one is busy.
The next time Ruan Lingfeng heard news of Tao Zhi, it was online. He had just finished a meeting and walked into the breakroom when he heard people saying Tao Zhi was trending again. Ruan Lingfeng usually didn’t engage in entertainment activities during work hours aside from listening to music, but this time, he immediately opened Weibo.
Just as his colleagues said, Tao Zhi’s name was sitting at the number one spot on the “Hot Search” list. It wasn’t rare for Tao Zhi to trend—the man was addicted to buying Hot Searches; he’d buy a promotional spot for every song and a splash screen for every performance. But this time, the related keywords weren’t good news.
It said Tao Zhi was injured during a program recording.
Clicking into the search page, the identical press releases all stated that Tao Zhi had fallen and been injured during a shoot, but none specified the severity. They only vaguely mentioned he had been rushed to the hospital and his condition was unknown. The comments were a mix of worried fans and skeptics claiming it was another publicity stunt.
Ruan Lingfeng’s heart sank when he saw the news. He knew Tao Zhi wouldn’t use something like this for publicity; Tao Zhi hated the tactic of “selling misery” to gain sympathy from fans. If someone tried to make a big deal out of a minor injury, Tao Zhi would never agree to it.
No one could force Tao Zhi to do what he didn’t want to do. If he couldn’t even stop the media from publishing these releases…
Furthermore, the vague nature of these reports and entertainment news was a bad sign. Often, the less clear the situation was, the bigger the problem.
Ruan Lingfeng bit his lower lip.
A subordinate came over to call him: “Brother Xiao Feng, when are you free? I’ve finished the PPT revisions and wanted you to take another look… Brother Xiao Feng?”
Ruan Lingfeng was dazed. It wasn’t until the subordinate called his name a second time that he managed a stiff smile. “I’m sorry… I have something to take care of right now…”
In truth, he hadn’t really heard what the subordinate said, which was unlike him. He should have asked them to repeat what they needed, but at this moment, he didn’t want to talk about work at all.
After giving an apologetic smile, he walked out, leaving the subordinate stunned and murmuring, “It’s fine.”
Behind him, the people were still talking.
“Your boss’s face suddenly went pale after looking at his phone. What happened?”
“Maybe something happened at home.”
“And usually, even if Brother Xiao Feng has other things to do, he always specifies what time he can handle our questions. That was definitely a first. He might be in a real rush.”
“But wasn’t he looking at the Hot Search? I saw it—it was the top one we were talking about. He looked at it for a while, and his face kept getting worse.”
“The thing about Tao Zhi getting injured? What does that have to do with Brother Xiao Feng?”
“You’d be surprised. I’ve seen Tao Zhi waiting downstairs several times for Brother Xiao Feng to get off work.”
“Holy shit, no way.”
Ruan Lingfeng walked out and found a quiet corner to himself. First, he sent a message to Tao Zhi. Their last communication had been over ten days ago. Since then, the warm inquiries and the pointless sharing of daily life had ceased.
Ruan Lingfeng asked, “What happened?” After sending it, he worried that if something had truly happened, Tao Zhi might not be able to see his phone or reply. So, as soon as the message was sent, he called Chen Ping.
Since their last collaboration, aside from some final details, the two of them rarely spoke. Ruan Lingfeng worried that Chen Ping’s phone would be hard to get through; after all, they weren’t close, and since Tao Zhi was trending, many people were likely calling for info. But Ruan Lingfeng had been anxious from the moment he saw the news and didn’t want to leave a message and wait for an indefinite reply.
To his surprise, Chen Ping answered quickly: “Hello, Teacher Ruan.”
Ruan Lingfeng nervously tugged at his shirt sleeve with one hand. Usually, phone calls required small talk, but this time Ruan Lingfeng went straight to the point: “I saw the Hot Search… I want to know Tao Zhi’s current condition.”
Chen Ping fell silent for a moment.
It was only a two or three-second pause, but to Ruan Lingfeng, it felt like an eternity. He couldn’t help but urge: “Is it convenient to say?”
“…It’s hard to say.”
Hearing this, Ruan Lingfeng’s heart tightened. Hard to say? Does that mean something very serious happened?
Chen Ping added: “Why don’t you come see him?”
Ruan Lingfeng didn’t even notice his tone becoming hurried: “Alright, please send me a location.” He didn’t ask if it was convenient for him to visit; he just knew he had to see Tao Zhi. From seeing the news to talking to the manager, no one had given him a straight answer. His heart had been hanging in suspense the entire time, and he felt like he was going a bit crazy.
What actually happened? Why can’t they just say it?
The more they obscured the truth, the more he felt something was wrong. Why not just be direct? Was it because it was too terrible to say?
“Fall injury”—where did he fall? His spine? Ruan Lingfeng immediately fought with himself, telling himself not to think of such unlucky possibilities.
It’s nothing, it’s nothing.
He hastily requested leave and handed over his work, then navigated to the address Chen Ping sent. Perhaps because he was so preoccupied, it wasn’t until he had been driving for a while that he realized the address Chen Ping gave was Tao Zhi’s home.
He knew where Tao Zhi lived, but he had never been there.
If he was injured, why was he at home? No matter how much he hated hospitals, he wouldn’t stay home at a time like this, would he?
Anxiety and confusion made it impossible for him to think clearly. Driving much faster than usual, he soon reached Tao Zhi’s neighborhood. As soon as he got out of the car, he received a message from Tao Zhi.
Tao Zhi: I’ve alerted the security. You can come straight in. The front door code is the date my first album was released.
Tao Zhi: Do you know the date?
Ruan Lingfeng didn’t reply. He parked the car, found Tao Zhi’s standalone villa, walked through a garden that looked overgrown and neglected, and entered the code.
The house was large but felt excessively empty. Tao Zhi sent another message saying his room was on the second floor.
When Ruan Lingfeng finally pushed open Tao Zhi’s bedroom door, he expected to see other visitors, but there were none. The room was empty save for Tao Zhi. Tao Zhi was lying in bed, covered by a blanket, his condition unclear.
Tao Zhi propped himself up on the bed.
It seemed they hadn’t met in a long time. Their eyes met in the air. Ruan Lingfeng stood still at the door; at this moment, he suddenly hesitated, feeling a bit nervous.
He took a deep breath and asked: “What happened to you… where did you fall? Why aren’t you in the hospital? Where are your manager and assistant?”
Tao Zhi spoke, his voice sounding a bit raspy, but he didn’t actually look that weak: “Why aren’t you coming over?”
Ruan Lingfeng still didn’t move. Tao Zhi answered his questions one by one: “I don’t like hospitals. A doctor came by and treated me. I don’t like people in my house, so I chased them away… Don’t ask anymore. It hurts so much, can you please come here for a second?”
In truth, Tao Zhi’s answers were still vague. If Ruan Lingfeng had thought about it carefully, he would have found them full of holes.
But this Alpha was acting spoiled towards him. Between the previous heart-wrenching worry and this direct emotional strike, Ruan Lingfeng sensed something was off, but he had no room to think about anything else.
He walked over and knelt beside Tao Zhi, his brow having remained furrowed since he arrived. “Where are you hurt? Is it serious?”
Tao Zhi said: “It’s very serious… hug me for a second. I feel like I’m dying from the pain.”
Seeing Ruan Lingfeng still hesitating, Tao Zhi—who was supposedly too injured to move—suddenly flipped over, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled the half-kneeling Ruan Lingfeng up. Before Ruan Lingfeng could process what was happening, Tao Zhi pulled him into a hug and sat him on his lap: “You really… I didn’t lose the bet. You were this worried about me, so why won’t you just hug me?”