"Like the Moon in the Sky" - Chapter 22

Even now, Zhu Jinyue felt as if she had never fully emerged from the shadow of her grandmother’s passing. It was just that the sharp, heart-wrenching pain of those early days had gradually dulled into a long, persistent ache.

Losing a loved one was like having a soft part of her heart carved out. Time could not fill that void, but it could blur the memories.

Apart from the photos and videos her grandmother had left behind—which she had rewatched countless times—there were moments when she could no longer clearly recall what her grandmother looked like at other times.

She desperately tried to remember, but some details were slowly, mercilessly blurred or even erased.

“Mhm,” Shen Qinghuai responded softly, his tone gentle and indulgent. “I was wrong.”

Before he arrived, Zhu Jinyue had already been on the verge of tears. Now, with him bringing up the past again, she found it even harder to hold back.

Her eyes were already brimming with tears, ready to fall at any moment.

Just then, a few medical staff hurried past.

Zhu Jinyue still didn’t want anyone to see her cry and instinctively lowered her head.

But someone was quicker than her.

Years ago, it was the young boy who crouched in front of her, shielding her from the biting cold wind during Xingnan’s sudden weather change. Now, it was the same person, who, before the medical staff could pass by, raised his hand to cover her eyes, blocking the gazes directed at her.

By the time Zhu Jinyue realized what was happening, she had already grabbed the man’s wrist, resting her forehead lightly against his palm.

Shen Qinghuai’s hand seemed to stiffen for a moment before quickly relaxing.

Zhu Jinyue felt his other hand gently press against her back, guiding her toward his embrace with a soft, gentle force—so light that it felt as though she could easily break free if she wanted to.

But Zhu Jinyue didn’t move. Instead, she leaned into his shoulder, following that subtle guidance—

After all, it wasn’t the first time she had cried in front of him. He had already seen her at her most vulnerable, in even worse states.

Tears quickly soaked the shoulder of the man’s coat.

Ten years had passed, yet it seemed she hadn’t made much progress.

She could accept that her classmates no longer crowded into a small classroom where they saw each other every day. She could accept that friends drifted apart and became strangers. She could accept her sister starting a new family with someone else and moving away, as long as she was happy.

But she still couldn’t come to terms with the loss of a loved one.

Even the slightest possibility was too much to bear.

Her voice was muffled against his shoulder, “Grandpa still hasn’t woken up.”

Shen Qinghuai’s hand gently rested on her back, as if to comfort her. “Didn’t they say the surgery was successful? He might just need a little more rest.”

“He had the attack while buying snacks for me. They always treat me like a child.”

Zhu Yuanshan had fallen ill while buying something for her. Even though everyone told her that it meant he received medical attention exceptionally quickly, if he never woke up, she knew she might never be able to forgive herself.

Even though the doctors had assured her the surgery was successful, she couldn’t help but worry.

This incident would forever become another knot in her heart.

“So, he must know you’re waiting for him.”

The man’s voice seemed gentler than ever before.

“If it’s at all possible, he will wake up. I’ll wait with you.”

Zhu Jinyue buried her face deeply in his shoulder, crying silently once more.

Shen Qinghuai didn’t say another word, just stayed quietly by her side, just as he had years ago.

After a while, having cried out all the worries she couldn’t share with her sister, Zhu Jinyue’s emotions slowly settled.

It was only then that Shen Qinghuai spoke again, his voice soft, “Would you like something to eat? Should I have someone bring some food over?”

Zhu Jinyue still had no appetite. “I don’t want to eat.”

Shen Qinghuai, “Even if you don’t want to, try to eat a little, alright? Otherwise, what if your grandfather wakes up and you faint from hunger right in front of him? That wouldn’t be very good, would it?”

Zhu Jinyue, “…”

She pictured the scene he described. Whether it would scare Zhu Yuanshan or not, she had already scared herself.

“Then have someone deliver something.”

“Okay.”

She didn’t hear him make a phone call; perhaps he placed an order on some platform.

It was only then that Zhu Jinyue realized their current posture was somewhat too intimate. But she truly didn’t have the energy to move. She hadn’t eaten all night, and crying had drained much of her strength.

Besides, she had accidentally kissed him the day before yesterday. Compared to that, borrowing his shoulder to lean on wasn’t really awkward at all.

Moreover, unlike that overstepping kiss, this embrace felt devoid of any ambiguity—it was more like a pure, simple comfort.

Zhu Jinyue rested quietly on his shoulder for a few more moments until Shen Qinghuai softly informed her that the food had arrived.

She lifted her head, sat up properly in her seat, and felt a belated warmth spread to the tips of her ears.

Shen Qinghuai didn’t look at her either, lowering his head to methodically unpack the delivery bag and open the food container.

It seemed to be porridge, steam rising warmly from it.

“What kind of porridge is it?” Zhu Jinyue asked him.

Shen Qinghuai, “Shredded chicken porridge.”

Zhu Jinyue, “I don’t eat porridge with ginger.”

Shen Qinghuai handed her the container while unwrapping a spoon for her. “I remember. There’s no ginger.”

Zhu Jinyue took it and slowly said, “Oh.”

She didn’t know where he had ordered the porridge from—the container had no logo—but it tasted much better than expected, unlike something hastily bought from an ordinary restaurant.

But no matter how good it was, Zhu Jinyue still had little appetite. She only forced herself to eat half a bowl because she was afraid she might actually collapse from hunger in front of her grandfather and frighten him.

Shen Qinghuai tilted his head slightly. “Not eating anymore?”

Zhu Jinyue shook her head.

The man didn’t press further, simply reaching out to hand her something else.

Zhu Jinyue blinked. “What’s this?”

Shen Qinghuai, “A steam eye mask. Put it on—it should help reduce the swelling a bit.”

Zhu Jinyue hadn’t expected him to have prepared this. Suddenly, it felt as if a wisp of steam from the earlier bowl of chicken porridge had flowed into her heart. But she didn’t have the mind to analyze the feeling right then.

She really didn’t want her grandfather to wake up and worry about her while still ill, so she reached out and took it.

As she put on the eye mask, the light dimmed abruptly.

Zhu Jinyue suddenly felt an inexplicable pang of panic.

“Shen Qinghuai.”

“I’m here.”

Zhu Jinyue breathed a quiet sigh of relief in her heart and asked him, “What time did you postpone your meeting to? When are you leaving?”

The man’s voice sounded low beside her ear: “I’ll probably leave in the afternoon.”

Zhu Jinyue felt relieved.

Grandfather should be awake by the afternoon. Even if he wasn’t, her sister should be back from her meeting by then.

Zhu Jinyue leaned back in her chair with her eyes closed, making small talk to chat with him. “The gacha rates in your company’s game are seriously skewed.”

Shen Qinghuai, “What do you want to pull? Do you want me to try for you?”

Zhu Jinyue couldn’t actually see, but she instinctively turned her head slightly toward him. “If you pull, are you guaranteed to get it quickly?”

“Well, not necessarily,” Shen Qinghuai said.

Zhu Jinyue wrinkled her nose. “But you’re the boss.”

Shen Qinghuai, “Even the boss can’t control the preset game mechanics.”

The corners of Zhu Jinyue’s lips finally lifted into a very faint smile.

They chatted casually for a few more minutes until the man beside her reminded her that the steam eye mask shouldn’t be worn for too long and that the maximum time had been reached.

Zhu Jinyue made an “Oh” sound and removed the mask.

The man’s handsome face came back into clear view in an instant.

Zhu Jinyue opened her mouth, suddenly wanting to say something to him, but a nurse approached her just then.

“Miss Zhu, your grandfather is awake.”

Zhu Jinyue’s eyes lit up, and she immediately stood up, “Can I see him now?”

Nurse, “You can’t enter the ICU. You’ll have to wait for us to move him back to the VIP room upstairs first.”

Zhu Jinyue pressed her, “Can I go with you to escort him?”

“That should be fine.”

Zhu Jinyue instinctively followed her for a few steps before remembering the person who had been keeping her company for so long. She stopped and turned around.

The tall, handsome man was still sitting quietly in his previous spot.

Zhu Jinyue blinked slowly, suddenly recalling what she had wanted to say to him moments ago.

For a fleeting moment, she had felt an inexplicable urge to cast aside the so-called sense of boundaries between adults. She wanted to be like her younger, more naive self and cross that line to ask him how he had been all these years, and whether… whether there had been someone by his side back then.

But Shen Qinghuai suddenly smiled at her.

He gently lifted his chin towards the operating room area, his voice soft, “Go ahead. Your grandfather is waiting for you.”

In the end, her desire to see her grandfather won out. Zhu Jinyue nodded at him, “I’ll go ahead then.”

Shen Qinghuai remained seated, watching her follow the nurse like a little tail. She paused at the ICU door, then walked alongside the hospital bed being wheeled out, disappearing together towards the other end of the corridor.

Only when her figure had completely vanished from sight did Shen Qinghuai stand up. He collected the half-eaten bowl of porridge, the used eye mask, and its packaging into a paper bag, stood, and threw it into a nearby trash can.

The faint scent of her perfume still lingered around him. Shen Qinghuai looked down at his right shoulder, where the fabric was still noticeably damp.

His gaze rested there for a moment before he took out his silenced phone from his pocket.

There were several missed calls, all from a company vice president named Lu Cheng.

Shen Qinghuai called him back.

The call connected quickly. Lu Cheng asked him over the phone, “Finished up there?”

Shen Qinghuai made an affirming sound (“Mmn”) and asked while striding out, “How did the negotiations go?”

Lu Cheng, “Not bad.”

“Good work,” Shen Qinghuai said.

Lu Cheng said, “Don’t mention it, it’s my job. But Yuan Xiu really put in the effort this time.”

“Is he with you now?” Shen Qinghuai asked, “If he is, let me speak with him.”

“He is.”

The line went quiet for a moment, presumably as they handed over the phone.

But before Shen Qinghuai could speak, Yuan Xiu, who now had the phone, spoke up first, though his voice sounded unusually faint and weak.

“Shen Qinghuai, what did you tell me back then? You said if I joined Weizhi, I could just bury myself in the technology I love and wouldn’t have to deal with anything else, that I wouldn’t have to interact with anyone I wasn’t familiar with.”

“Sorry,” Shen Qinghuai paused, his tone turning more serious, “I owe you one.”

The line went quiet again.

When someone spoke next, it was Lu Cheng’s voice again.

Lu Cheng said with a laugh, “What did you say to him? He seems almost embarrassed.”

Shen Qinghuai also chuckled lightly, “It was nothing.”

Lu Cheng had been their classmate too and understood their personalities, so he didn’t press further. He just asked, “Their side indicated they want to talk with you personally before making a decision. When can you get here now that you’re done?”

Shen Qinghuai, “I’m on my way now.”

“Alright. Your hotel room hasn’t been checked out yet anyway.” Lu Cheng seemed to remember something and added hurriedly, “Oh, and it’s not that urgent. We’ve got things under control. Don’t drive yourself to the airport. You drove through the night to get back; driving again now would be fatigued driving.”

Shen Qinghuai responded with a laugh, “Okay.”

He walked quickly. By the time he finished speaking, he was already at the hospital entrance.

Taking another step forward, he walked into the dazzling sunlight outside.

The spell of overcast weather in Pingcheng had passed.

The sky had finally cleared.