A Tattoo That Can't Be Removed - Chapter 15

Later, I moved to another city for work, switching between several companies, finally settling down near the end of the year.

People have an incredible ability to heal. Amidst the daily grind, I eventually stopped sinking into sadness so frequently. In the end, it was like reliving the past after Mom passed away.

Old friends said I had changed a lot.

Indeed, I used to wear vibrant sweatshirts, but now I’ve taken a liking to long black dresses, growing my hair long and pinning it up, exposing my neck.

I became more adept at dealing with clients, gradually turning into a trusted asset for my boss. There were nights I drank until I couldn’t anymore, looking up to see the reflection of the girl who once told Wei Yan, “As long as I don’t drink, no one can force me.”

It was only later that I realized my promotion wasn’t due to my exceptional skills. My ability to skip drinking events wasn’t because I was particularly sharp.

It was simply because Wei Yan had put in a good word for me beforehand, so no one dared to bully me.

I learned to smoke, though I can’t recall exactly when it started. Perhaps it was because all the men around me smoked, or maybe someone handed me a cigarette one day, and I didn’t refuse.

I just found that when a cigarette burned at my fingertips, I could momentarily forget something. When the smoke enveloped me, I could briefly lose sight of everything.

I used to disdain the mundane, dreaming of nurturing the flowers on the balcony. Now, it seems the same, except that day after day, I smoked, or perhaps one day I came home drunk and overwatered it, and it died.

That day, I looked at it and cried for a long time.

Later, I moved to a new house, got a new car, and gradually organized the place. When the renovation was complete, I sat in the middle of the empty living room and suddenly realized I didn’t even have the chance to call and say, “Dad, Mom, come see my new house.”

The balcony in the new home is spacious. I often lean on it, wondering if there are two stars in the sky that are them. Dad would say, “Look at our daughter, she’s doing well,” and Mom would say, “What’s the point of such a big house? Hurry and send her a dream to quit smoking!”

So sometimes, I don’t even dare to look at the stars, fearing that the more I look, the more my nose will sting.

…

Today, there was a major client. It wasn’t until I arrived at the restaurant that I realized the client was Wei Yan.

How long has it been since I last saw him?

I can’t say what feelings I have for him now. I’ve never seen him from this perspective before. In the past, he would come home reeking of alcohol and collapse into my arms.

Now, he lowered his gaze, as if he could automatically distance himself from everyone, creating an invisible barrier. No matter who approached him, they would utter a few flattering words.

Perhaps I had been staring for too long, for he glanced in my direction. In that instant, something seemed to ripple in his dark eyes, and I quickly averted my gaze.

Yet, he continued to watch me.

My boss, ever the shrewd one, seized the moment and nudged me forward, instructing me to offer a toast to Mr. Wei. Reluctantly, I filled the glass with Baijiu, raised it to him, and crafted a flawless smile.

“Mr. Wei, please feel free.”

He kept his eyes on me, then abruptly turned away, refusing to look at me again.

With my part done, I was more than happy to retreat to the corner, pondering whether I should buy another plant to nurture.

I couldn’t tell if it was just my imagination, but Wei Yan seemed to be drinking quite a lot today, accepting glass after glass from others.

Oh well, maybe he just enjoys drinking.

Later in the evening, my craving for a cigarette kicked in. I slipped out of the private room into a small courtyard, placed a cigarette between my lips, and flicked the lighter.

The tiny sparks ignited the slender lady’s cigarette, and the blend of mint and tobacco rushed into my nostrils. Just as I took a drag, someone snatched the cigarette away.

“What are you doing?”

I reached to grab it back, but he was quicker, extinguishing it against the wall. I looked up at him, and the familiar contours of his face were etched in my memory forever.

“Makeup?”

His thumb brushed against the corner of my mouth, and I dodged.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Mr. Wei.”

He pulled a faint smile, cornering me against the wall, his dark eyes hiding a lurking beast.

“Smoking? When did you learn that?”

“What does it matter to you?”

I looked up at him, realizing he was more flustered than I expected, his ears slightly red, perhaps from the alcohol.

“I knew I’d see you today.”

He leaned in, speaking softly.

“I regret it. I didn’t protect you.”

“Those people, who do they think they are, daring to make you toast…”

“Who taught you to smoke? Tell me, and I’ll…”

I pushed him away, and he stood there, staring at me in bewilderment.

“Mr. Wei, are you done? If so, I’m leaving.”

“Don’t go.”

He said, as if it were a meaningless plea. At this point, neither of us could imagine a way to return to four years ago.

The path ahead was lit by starlight, and our story had long faded in that torrential rain.

One day, I found something wrapped in paper in my bag.

It seemed he had slipped it in without me noticing, and I had never discovered it.

Inside was a diamond ring, with a date scribbled on the paper.

It was my birthday.

He had hidden the ring in a cake, intending to propose to me.

But I had walked into the rain, and he hadn’t caught up.

He never did catch up.

End…