ADLH Chapter 5: Does This Count as Liking?
At six o'clock, Yuna, the intern secretary who never stays overtime, said sweet, bright goodbyes to her colleagues one by one. She had originally planned to work late today to show her diligence, but after getting scolded by President Ruan in the morning, her mood was low.
Yuna walked gracefully in her slender high heels, dressed impeccably, but still had to squeeze into the crowded subway during rush hour with everyone else.
At this hour, there would be no seats available. She was already used to leaning against the subway doors with her earphones in, zoning out while letting her mind wander. When it was time to get off, she would move with the flow of the crowd.
Yuna lived in the far outskirts, in an old neighborhood without even a security guard, and the property management had abandoned it ages ago. Yet in this bustling city, even a place like this cost outrageously high prices—sharing a place still required one to two thousand yuan a month.
It was filled with people like her—wearing luxury brands, looking classy, but squeezing into the subway and sharing apartments to chase their dreams far from home.
As she gracefully reached the neighborhood gate, Yuna's expression changed. Her perfect, sweet smile vanished, and she lifted her foot to rub her ankle.
“Damn high heels, killing me!”
She grumbled, shifting from dainty steps to big, careless strides. As she walked, she pulled a pretty red cigarette case from her bag, lighting a slim cigarette for herself.
She slung her expensive handbag over her shoulder, dug out a hair tie, and casually gathered her fragrant, wavy hair into a loose ponytail, stomping back towards the complex like a tomboy.
“Jeez~ I’m dead tired~”
She blew out a smoke ring, cigarette dangling from her lips. Her exquisitely made-up face scrunched in exhaustion.
Just as she stepped into the building entrance, she noticed a red paper posted on the wall.
Large handwritten words read:
"Please, we beg you for some kindness!"
Yuna paused, took the cigarette from her mouth, and glanced at it.
It continued:
"Dear neighbors, my child keeps crying at night. Please help by reciting this phrase. Thank you!"
Lower down, a little nursery rhyme from old village superstitions was written:
"Heaven bright, earth bright,
In my home a crying child at night.
Kind souls passing by,
Chant three times, and sleep till daylight..."
It was an old superstition. When Yuna was a child, her grandma had posted the same thing on a tree in the village when she cried at night—neighbors passing by would chant it three times.
Probably, it was this child’s grandma or elder who posted it too.
Yuna’s expression softened. She gently recited it three times:
"Heaven bright, earth bright,
In my home a crying child at night.
Kind souls passing by,
Chant three times, and sleep till daylight..."
After chanting, she smiled. Hopefully, the child would sleep peacefully tonight. She couldn’t recall hearing any kid crying in the building before, but maybe she just slept too deeply—ever since joining the big company, she collapsed into bed every night and didn’t even stir during thunderstorms.
Yuna clamped the cigarette back between her teeth and climbed the stairs.
She unlocked the door, kicked off her high heels, tossed her bag onto the sofa, and shouted:
"I'm home, damn it!"
Then she flopped onto the soft couch, hugging a pillow and rolling around—nothing like the graceful, sweet image she showed at work.
Her roommate popped out from her room at the noise.
"Finally back, sis! Hurry up, what should we eat? I’m starving!"
“I want rice noodles tonight!”
“Me too!”
"Great minds think alike, haha. Who’s ordering?"
“I’ll order!”
“Okay, I’ll transfer you the money later.”
“Deal!”
The two girls huddled on the couch, laughing and chatting, casually complaining about the dumb stuff that happened during the day. Yuna mentioned the red paper she saw downstairs.
The roommate grimaced.
"I told you, don’t get involved in that stuff. It's just superstitions. Besides, it’s none of our business. Don’t meddle. The outside world is dangerous—no one helps for free anymore. Half the beggars under the bridge are richer than us after they change clothes."
They weren’t bad people, but after getting burned enough times, they had learned: mind your own business was the rule for surviving in society.
Yuna just smiled without replying. Her roommate poked her waist and grumbled,
"You’re too soft-hearted for your own good. One day you’re going to get burned!"
"I haven’t suffered much yet, but I’m about to start eating dirt," Yuna laughed.
"So poor~"
"Same here, sigh!"
The two looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Later that night, after watching horror movies together until 10:30 PM, Yuna rubbed her eyes and crawled back into her own bed.
Normally, she slept like a rock. But tonight, she was woken up by the sound of a child crying loudly.
She frowned, her eyelids heavy.
Was the upstairs kid making such a racket?
She tried covering her head with the blanket, but the crying seemed to get closer—sharper and more piercing, the child sobbing desperately.
Now wide awake, Yuna furiously threw off the blanket, rubbing her bleary eyes and sitting up.
"Are they abusing that kid upstairs? Crying this badly? Damn it!"
Cursing, she looked up toward the sound—and then froze.
Something was clinging to the ceiling, near her bedroom light fixture. In the darkness, it looked like a child.
Its mouth was wide open, face twisted between a laugh and a scream, emitting an ear-piercing cry...
Yuna’s sleepy eyes widened in terror, her pupils constricting.
"AHHHHHHHHH——!"
"OH MY GOD THERE'S A GHOST——!"
Meanwhile, elsewhere—
Qian Ji stood coldly in front of a mirror, arms spread wide, his golden eyes—bright as sunlight—lowered to gaze at the human bustling busily at his chest.
Ruan Xingzhou, like a favored concubine after receiving imperial favor, was diligently helping His Majesty change clothes, like a busy little bee.
Suddenly, Qian Ji asked coolly:
"Do you enjoy serving me?"
Ruan Xingzhou was buttoning his shirt. Hearing the question, he looked up straightforwardly:
"Yes."
His dark eyes sparkled like stars in the night sky.
"You like me?" Qian Ji stared coldly at him.
"Yes," Ruan Xingzhou nodded again.
"Why? Because I represent another world? Because I brought something different into your life? You think that’s what liking is?"
Qian Ji’s voice was icy, while Ruan Xingzhou looked puzzled.
"Is that... wrong?"
He didn’t understand.
The day he met Qian Ji, he felt his heart thump and his blood race for the first time.
He thought that was love—what the books called love at first sight.
Growing up deprived of normal emotions, no one had ever taught Ruan Xingzhou what love was. But seeing Qian Ji that day, he suddenly understood.
He liked Qian Ji’s terrifying, awe-inspiring dragon form; he liked his human side too, the profile of his face.
Something had taken root in his heart—sour, sweet, yearning to blossom.
But he didn’t know how to explain it to Qian Ji, didn’t know how to express it.
And Qian Ji couldn’t hear the voice of his heart.
Qian Ji thought: as expected, this abnormal human only mistook admiration and awe for love.
He decided to cut things off cleanly.
He said:
"I will not like you."
"Then... how could you like me?"
Ruan Xingzhou tilted his head, genuinely curious.
Golden eyes glanced at him coldly.
"There’s no way. It’s impossible."
He could not choose a short-lived human who didn’t even understand their own feelings as his partner.
It would be cruel to both of them.
The sparkling black eyes dimmed.
Qian Ji fell silent, then turned his face away, no longer looking at Ruan Xingzhou.
Ruan Xingzhou felt his chest tighten—heavy and uncomfortable.
He pressed his hand to his chest, confused about what he was feeling.
"...I have business in the human world. I won't come back tonight.
I hope that when I return, you’ll have figured things out."
With that, Qian Ji’s body dissolved into golden light and disappeared.
Ruan Xingzhou reached out and touched the fading light particles.
The huge, luxurious house was silent except for the ticking of the clock.
Ruan Xingzhou stared down at his slippers, frowning and pressing his chest again.
So uncomfortable...
So painful...
He called Secretary Wang.
The call connected, and he said in a dazed voice:
"I think I'm sick. My chest hurts..."
Secretary Wang froze, not quite understanding:
"Huh?"
Ruan Xingzhou:
"My chest hurts."
Secretary Wang:
"!!!"
Oh my god! Boss Ruan’s calling for help?!
Call an ambulance! Immediately!
Author’s Notes:
Qian Ji thinks the protagonist doesn’t know what love really is due to psychological issues.
President Ruan is experiencing first love, and his very first stirrings of emotion, so he doesn’t know how to express himself.
Comments
Post a Comment