【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

I unknowingly walked back to the villa that Dan Qi Anpei had given me. I thought I would face another argument with that uninvited guest as soon as I opened the door. Instead, I was met with a pair of equally drunken eyes.

I froze for a moment, standing at the doorway, as if time had frozen in that moment. The dim light reflected on the doorframe, and the man's eyes met mine, a look of drunken confusion and brokenness. He remained seated, leaning against the sofa, his hands hanging limply at his sides, his eyes slightly red. It was as if, in this silent space, all emotion had been reduced to silence.

On the table was the dinner he had cooked. I couldn't help but frown. It was Shan Qi's favorite dish, and each dish was carefully prepared. Obviously, he was still waiting for someone who hadn't returned yet. However, it was obvious that Shan Qi hadn't returned home again.

I stepped inside unconsciously, and the door closed softly, almost silently. The air was filled with the scent of alcohol and a hint of warmth that seemed to have long since dissipated. The man's eyes didn't waver when he saw me enter. He simply raised his head slightly, a wry smile playing at the corner of his mouth, as if he was already accustomed to this situation.

"You're back." He said, with a hint of helplessness in his tone, as if he had already been prepared to accept everything.

I didn't respond to him. My eyes subconsciously swept over the food on the table. Seeing the piles of wine bottles, my heart ached. Yes, I knew he had been waiting for Shan Qi's return, but every night seemed like an empty wait for an unanswered promise.

I put down my backpack and sat on the sofa across from him, silent for a moment. Finally, I couldn't help but say, "You know, he won't come back." Before I finished speaking, I was a little tired of this monotonous waiting, even though I knew it was beyond his control.

He lowered his head, his eyes slightly evasive. "I know." He spoke calmly, as if he had let go of all expectations. "But I'm still used to doing this every night, used to waiting for him to come back, used to dreaming of that familiar warmth."

I looked at him, my heart awash with complex emotions. This man, deeply in love with Shan Qi. Every meal he prepared, every bottle of wine he poured, was a testament to his unwavering anticipation for Shan Qi. Yet, no matter how many times, he was still left alone in the silence of this night.

"Why are you still waiting?" I asked, my voice a little hoarse, with a hint of fatigue and impatience.

He raised his head, his lips curled up again in that arc that wasn't quite a smile: "Because if I don't wait, he will leave forever. Only by waiting can there be a glimmer of hope."

"I sometimes wonder if it would be easier if I could just let go," he said, his eyes gradually blurring. "But every time I think about the possibility that he'll come back, I can't let go."

The alcohol in the air seemed to make him increasingly intoxicated, and his words were tinged with a thin layer of sadness. I sat there silently, feeling an indescribable complex emotion in my heart, as if all his emotions were suppressed, as if if he stopped, he would be forgotten by the world.

I didn't say anything else, because I knew that perhaps until Shan Qi returned, he would never be able to let go of this obsession. Just like those dinners, those dishes that were never finished and no one would ever be able to taste them.

Just as I was about to leave, he suddenly said, "Ruyuan, can you go and call Shan Qi back? I... I just want him to know that I've always been here."

I didn't agree, nor did I refuse. I knew Shan Qi's heart no longer belonged to him, perhaps already drifting far away. But this obsession couldn't be easily erased. It was like an endless dinner, waiting for a return date that would never come.

"Are you sure?" I was very confused about his current state. He always looked afraid to meet Shan Qi again.

He pulled the corners of his mouth weakly, and tried to stand up but fell back down: "You... don't call him..." He rested his head on the sofa in dejection: "You... hug me, okay..."

At that moment, the air in the room seemed to freeze. I froze in my tracks.

The man in front of me has always been tough and even sharp, but he always shows such a vulnerable side when he is drunk.

He leaned back on the sofa, his eyes hazy and slightly exhausted, as if all the loneliness and oppression of this villa were concentrated on him. I could sense his deep sense of powerlessness, like a string about to snap, ready to collapse at any moment. That loneliness, that hopelessness.

I stood there in silence for a few seconds, my hands unconsciously clenching into fists. In reality, I knew he didn't really need me to do anything, and his request wasn't what he truly wanted. He just wanted a little comfort, a little warmth that would make him feel cared for.

I guess that's about it.

And I, at this moment, had to admit that I wasn't a cold-blooded bystander. I'd seen him both strong and vulnerable so many times before, and now he reached out to me. Perhaps this was the only thing I could do.

Slowly, I walked over, sat on the sofa, and gently pulled him into my arms. The silence in the air suddenly grew thicker, only the sound of his faint breathing intertwined with the pounding of my nervous heartbeat. I could sense his exhaustion, as if he was suffocating under the weight of life, and I seemed to be his only source of support.

He didn't say anything, just quietly nestled in my arms, as if time had stopped. The man before me was no longer the lonely lover, nor was he the sharp tenant. At this moment, he was just a wounded soul, longing for a little comfort.

"Don't you want to wait for him to come back?" I asked in a low voice, my voice slightly hoarse. My hand gently patted his back, as if comforting an uneasy child.

He didn't answer, perhaps even he didn't have an answer. He simply leaned his head on my shoulder, still holding me tightly, as if it were an instinctive need. His voice was low, with a hint of repression: "I can't wait any longer, I've waited too long..."

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and suppressed the complex emotions that were rising in my heart.

I didn't ask any more questions, simply holding him silently, feeling his faint breath and his fragility. Time seemed to slow down at that moment, every second dragging on like a season. I knew I couldn't give him an answer, nor could I change anything. But perhaps, at this moment, the only thing I could do was to accompany him through this moment of confusion and loneliness.

I don't know what to do next, nor do I know what he will choose. But at least, at this moment, we are not alone.