The Third Year After The Breakup, He Knelt and Begged to Get Back Together - Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Haven’t you always wanted a status…

Could it be… He Xian has been possessed?

The fortune-telling friend of his teacher had been quite accurate back then; he wondered if he could invite them over to take a look at He Xian.

The sound of speakers from a shop by the roadside grew closer with their footsteps.

Qi Mingfeng recognized the song playing as Zhou Zhiqian’s “Listening.”

He subconsciously glanced at He Xian. Sure enough, He Xian’s originally subtle expression instantly darkened several degrees.

Qi Mingfeng felt a bit more at ease.

It seemed he hadn’t been possessed.

He Xian snorted coldly: “You sing much better than that guy surnamed Zhou. What a tasteless, broken shop.”

Qi Mingfeng wanted to defend Zhou Zhiqian.

Although he and Zhou Zhiqian were both singers, they had different specialties. The other’s singing technique wasn’t as good as his, but his own composition wasn’t as good as the other’s.

But if he defended him, He Xian would definitely be cynical again, so he simply shut his mouth.

An innocent song had ruined He Xian’s mood—or perhaps He Xian had things he found hard to say and used “Listening” as a far-fetched excuse to find fault.

In short, He Xian ended this walk, the meaning of which Qi Mingfeng did not understand, and drove him home.

By the time they entered the elevator, He Xian’s “spring breeze of pride” had been rekindled.

Once inside the house, he sat down on the sofa with an air of composure and looked up at Qi Mingfeng.

Qi Mingfeng: “?”

So what exactly was this about?

In his confusion, Qi Mingfeng’s peripheral vision caught sight of a bag on the table.

It was brought by Ruan Zhiyan. One didn’t need a brain to know it was a gift for He Xian.

To ease the strange atmosphere, Qi Mingfeng handed the bag to He Xian: “This is…”

Before he could finish, He Xian had already taken it and opened it. Inside was an exquisitely packaged gift box.

Looking at the pattern on the box… it was a designer belt.

Giving a man a belt—the meaning couldn’t be more obvious.

Was Ruan Zhiyan trying to test He Xian’s attitude toward him, or was he trying to sow discord in their relationship just like before?

As Qi Mingfeng was thinking, he saw He Xian’s gaze become extremely dangerous—an ambiguous danger, as if he wanted to devour him whole.

He Xian opened the box, his slender fingers toyed with the belt, and then he pulled Qi Mingfeng’s hand and placed it on the buckle of the belt he was currently wearing: “Help me change it?”

Qi Mingfeng felt as if he had been burned by the metal buckle. He pulled his hand back forcefully and hurriedly explained: “This was sent by Ruan Zhiyan.”

The air, which had been so thick it was “pulling silk,” frozen instantly.

He Xian’s face went pitch black as he threw the belt away: “Is he an idiot? No, how did this thing get into the house?”

Qi Mingfeng: “I thought you two had an appointment to discuss things…”

He Xian: “Is your brain filled with water? What business could I possibly discuss with him? Even if there was something, I wouldn’t discuss it at home.”

Qi Mingfeng felt wronged.

In the past, with He Xian’s tacit permission, Ruan Zhiyan had come to this apartment countless times. How was he supposed to know he wasn’t allowed in now? He Xian hadn’t said anything.

But he still apologized obediently: “I’m sorry, I’ll call to confirm with you next time.”

He Xian reached out his hand toward him grumpily: “Where is my birthday present?”

Qi Mingfeng froze.

It was over.

Today was He Xian’s birthday?!

It wasn’t that he forgot the date of He Xian’s birthday, but the problem was that He Xian always celebrated his birthday according to the lunar calendar; every year, the corresponding solar date had to be recalculated.

Back when he loved He Xian, he would calculate it far in advance. Now that he didn’t love him, why would he remember such a thing? Moreover, his mind had been entirely focused on making money and Qi Huan’s illness lately; he couldn’t recall a single bit of it.

He Xian realized something from his silence: “You couldn’t have forgotten it’s my birthday today, could you?”

Qi Mingfeng knew that if he admitted it, he might literally “spatter blood for three feet” today.

Adrenaline surged in a life-or-death moment. He had a sudden flash of inspiration and said: “Of course not!”

He Xian stared intently at every flicker of his expression: “Then where is my gift?”

Qi Mingfeng: “I originally prepared a very special gift for you, but then I felt it wasn’t good enough to present…”

He Xian: “What gift?”

Qi Mingfeng: “A demo I wrote personally.”

He Xian knew Qi Mingfeng’s level of composition and frowned: “You? A demo?”

Qi Mingfeng bit the bullet and continued to make things up: “…Yes, I’ve recently felt the joy of creating and want to develop comprehensively. So I specially wrote a demo for you, hoping… hoping you can participate in my new life.”

Qi Mingfeng was not good at lying, especially saying “sweet nothings” to He Xian. His face and ears burned bright red.

He Xian mistook this for shyness. Seeing Qi Mingfeng looking like he was about to catch fire, the displeasure in his heart was swept away, replaced by a boundless joy caused by that phrase about participating in a new life.

He put both hands in his pockets: “So, where is the demo?”

Qi Mingfeng was secretly glad he hadn’t deleted the discarded demo he wrote that afternoon. To show sincerity, he sat down at the piano and played it by hand.

He also secretly thanked the fact that the order was for a boss who wanted to use it at a company quarterly celebration, so the overall tone was very festive and joyous.

Although He Xian didn’t study music, he had a basic level of musical appreciation. Qi Mingfeng’s demo… was full of emotion.

But thinking that Qi Mingfeng had written this specifically for him, and with such a cheerful melody, the boundless joy in his heart continued to expand, and the corners of his mouth curled up unconsciously.

Really.

Qi Mingfeng loved him so much.

Qi Mingfeng stole glances at He Xian while playing. Seeing He Xian smile, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

As the last note fell, Qi Mingfeng spoke: “He Xian, Happy Birthday.”

He Xian walked step by step to the piano, lifted Qi Mingfeng’s chin, and leaned down for a kiss.

Qi Mingfeng closed his eyes, as submissive as ever.

After a long while, He Xian wiped the moisture from the corner of Qi Mingfeng’s lip: “I like it very much.”

Qi Mingfeng smiled: “I’m glad you like it.”

He Xian: “Is there an electronic version?”

Qi Mingfeng: “Yes, I’ll send it to your email.”

Qi Mingfeng moved the mouse to light up the screen and sent the electronic version—the one he had almost deleted—to He Xian.

“I sent it—”

Turning his head, He Xian held a small box up in front of his face.

Qi Mingfeng was puzzled: “For me? Didn’t you already give me a watch this afternoon?”

Whose birthday was it anyway…

He took the box and opened it. Inside, two matching rings lay quietly.

Qi Mingfeng’s mind went blank.

He Xian spoke words that were bound to shock: “Haven’t you always wanted a status? We’ll hold an engagement ceremony in a couple of days, so you don’t have to go around outside talking nonsense about being some ‘little lover’ or whatever.”

The box had no logo inside or out. The ring bands were curved musical notes, with a massive diamond held where the ends met. It looked purely handmade.

A suspicion occurred to Qi Mingfeng: He Xian had been locked in the study these past few days—could it be he was designing rings…

Absurd.

Qi Mingfeng felt an unspeakable sense of absurdity.

Back when they were genuinely together, he once had a whim to go to He Xian’s company to find him.

At that time, He Xian had already taken over the He Group and moved to a new office building. The security guards didn’t know him and wouldn’t let him in.

He called He Xian, but couldn’t get through.

Coincidentally, two of He Xian’s friends were also going in to see him. After recognizing him, the two exchanged a look.

Qi Mingfeng remembered that look to this day.

Bantering, contemptuous, mocking.

One of them said to him: “This is where He Xian works. Be a bit sensible.”

He knew the friends in He Xian’s circle looked down on him, but being pointedly told so to his face still made him feel humiliated.

And the attitude of He Xian’s friends toward him depended on He Xian’s attitude toward him.

It was He Xian who indulged that kind of slight.

They had been together for four years and had never gone public. At first, He Xian said it was for the sake of his career.

But he was a singer of substance and didn’t want to live off of idol-style traffic anyway.

Later, he wanted to go public again, but He Xian refused with the same excuse—even though by then He Xian had already cut off his work and there was no “career” to speak of.

If He Xian had proposed engagement after any of their arguments—even at the very end when they broke up—if He Xian could have coaxed him properly, said the recordings were just angry talk, and then taken out a carefully prepared ring, he would have turned back and jumped into the fire once more.

But he had suffered too much over these past two years; his heart had long since died regarding this relationship. Now that He Xian said they were to be engaged, what did these two years count for? Did they count as him being “ungrateful” and getting what he deserved?

He remained silent for too long, and He Xian couldn’t help but urge him: “What kind of reaction is this? Moved to the point of being speechless?”

Qi Mingfeng returned to his senses and forced a smile: “It’s a bit sudden, I wasn’t mentally prepared.”

He Xian said as if it were only natural: “What’s sudden about it? You’ve followed me for so many years. If you were capable of giving birth, the kids would be crawling all over the place by now.”

Qi Mingfeng finally understood He Xian’s abnormality today. It turned out he was going to propose. He had first taken him to eat the malatang they ate back then, and during the walk, he wanted to reminisce about the past with him. Unfortunately, the face-loving President He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, and the reminiscing ended in failure.

Perhaps the shock was too great; Qi Mingfeng found it difficult to control his expression as well as he usually did.

He Xian discovered a clue in this and frowned: “You don’t like this style?”

Qi Mingfeng: “Did you design it yourself?”

He Xian: “I even polished it with my own hands. If you dare say you don’t like it…”

Qi Mingfeng’s Adam’s apple bobbed; he wanted to swallow all his emotions: “I like it, it’s very beautiful.”

“That’s more like it,” He Xian took out the ring and slid it onto Qi Mingfeng’s middle finger with a refusal-defying air. He nodded with satisfaction: “A perfect fit.”

Having said that, he took out the other ring and handed it to Qi Mingfeng.

Qi Mingfeng only felt that the tiny ring in his hand weighed a thousand tons. Controlling his body like a puppet, he put the ring on He Xian. He Xian took the opportunity to grab his hand and interlock their fingers; the two metal bands flashed a piercing light under the lamps.