Chapter 7 — The Light Is Out

“Tall, wearing a dark coat, glasses, elegant but a bit dangerous.”

Doan Gia Hua doesn't wear glasses, so who is he? I went to the front desk and saw a familiar face. Giang Du. Doan Gia Hua's college roommate is also a friend I have known for many years. He saw me, took off his glasses, wiped them, and smiled.

"Long time no see, Giang Nghien Hoa."

“Why did you come here?” I was a bit surprised, "Going on a business trip?"

“Yes, I came to Shanghai to meet a customer, I thought I was here so it would be convenient to visit.” He looked at me, "Your face is not bad, much better than before."

Much better than before. This statement made my heart a little emotional.

"Are you free at noon? Let's eat together?" He shook the bag in his hand, "Bring the wine brewed with cinnamon flowers that you like to drink."

I was a bit stunned. Wine brewed with cinnamon flowers. I really like to drink. But this hobby, Doan Gia Hua has not known for five years.

“How do you know I like this?”

Giang Du looked at me, his expression a bit difficult to speak.

“In my third year of college, at the Mid-Autumn Festival gathering, I drank three glasses and said it was delicious.” He paused, “Something like that… isn't hard to remember.”

One sentence made me silent. Lunch was very enjoyable. Giang Du is a person who knows how to talk, is humorous but not excessive, thoughtful but not intentional. Near the end, he put down his chopsticks and hesitated a bit.

"There's something I don't know if I should tell you or not."

I looked at him: "About Doan Gia Hua?" He nodded.

“If you don't want to listen, I won't say it.”

I thought for a moment: “Say it.” Giang Du took a deep breath.

"Recently his condition has been very bad. He's lost a lot of weight, and there were problems with the company project. Last week he came to the class meeting, drank a lot of alcohol, and kept calling my name."

My hand holding the chopsticks did not stop, picking up a piece of sweet and sour fried ribs.

“So what?”

"Okay..." Giang Du looked at my calm appearance and smiled bitterly, "He asked me to convey the message to you."

“No need to transfer.”

“Giang Nghien Hoa…”

“Giang Du.” I raised my head to look at him, "I know you have good intentions. But no matter what he says, I don't want to hear it."

"The thing between me and him is over. It's not a temporary impulse, it's not anger, it's really over."

Giang Du was silent for a long time. Finally nodded.

“I understand.” He said, “Then I won't be a messenger anymore.”

“Thank you.”

“But Giang Nghien Hoa.” He looked at me and said seriously, "You're really nice now. Before, when I was with Doan Gia Hua, you were always... how should I put it, very reserved."

“Now my whole body is more relaxed.”

I laughed a little. That's right. No need to be cautious anymore. No need to guess his mood, no need to suppress your needs, no need to pretend not to notice things that make you sad. No need to wait for someone who will never stay. After saying goodbye to Giang Du, I returned to work. The phone has an additional message. Strange number.

"Nghien Hoa, Giang Du told me that he met you. You look very good, I'm very happy."

"I won't bother you anymore. But there are some things I must clarify."

"What happened to Duong Nguyet was my fault from beginning to end. I shouldn't have accepted the promise I made to the teacher, and I shouldn't have kept it a secret from you for five years."

“But my feelings for you are real. For the past five years, every day the person I love has been em.”

"What happened that night, I will never be able to forgive myself."

“If I could turn back time, I would definitely stay.”

I finished reading this paragraph. Finger hovering over the screen.

“If time could be turned back.”

The five most useless words in the world. Time will not come back. That night I almost died will not happen again. Those nights alone facing an empty room won't happen again. The moments of being cold, compared, and considered invisible at Doan family gatherings will not be repeated. I delete the message.