Chapter 82 Who Is More Magnanimous

Chapter 82: Who Is More Magnanimous?

By the time Guan Junshan returned to the hotel, it was nearly midnight.

Yang Yue paced back and forth under the canopy at the hotel entrance, the rain growing louder in the night as mist filled the air.

A few minutes later, Guan Junshan's car emerged through the rain and fog, slowly pulling up to the front entrance. The doorman stepped forward to open the car door, and the driver also ran over to quickly hold an umbrella for him.

Yang Yue braved the rain down the steps, taking the umbrella from the driver, and glanced at him. "Why did it take so long?"

The driver defended himself with a hint of grievance. "President Guan wanted to buy cake, so we had to take a detour."

"Cake?" Yang Yue frowned, but before he could press further, Guan Junshan had already gotten out of the car. He looked unwell, his brow slightly furrowed, his clothes carrying a mix of the car's fragrance and the smell of alcohol.

Guan Junshan tried to walk on his own for a couple of steps but was unsteady, eventually having to be supported on either side by the doorman and the driver. Once inside the glass doors, he suddenly remembered something and turned to Yang Yue, who was still by the car. "There's something in the back seat."

Yang Yue opened the door and leaned in to search, his hand brushing against a paper bag.

He lifted it lightly, found it wasn't heavy, closed his umbrella, and headed inside, leaving the driver to park the car.

The elevator went all the way to the top floor. Yang Yue supported Guan Junshan with one hand while letting the doorman swipe the card. With a beep, the door opened, and the two of them worked together to help Guan Junshan into the room.

The room was spacious, the air slightly chilly. Yang Yue turned on the heater and drew the curtains in the living room.

He poured some hot water, walked over to the sofa, and called out, "President Guan," handing him a hangover remedy.

Guan Junshan leaned back against the headrest. When he opened his eyes and saw him, he pressed his temple in discomfort and asked, "Where's my stuff?"

Yang Yue set down the cup, walked to the entryway to retrieve the paper bag, and when he turned back, Guan Junshan had already swallowed the medicine and sat up a little straighter.

The bag had gotten wet from the rain, with several spots turning white and soft. Guan Junshan wiped off the water stains with his fingertips, removed the sealing tape, and pulled out a small slice of mousse cake.

It was very late, and he had made the driver visit three different places before finally buying it from a small, unknown shop on the street.

It wasn't particularly pretty or refined in appearance, nor in taste. Having sat out for too long, the edges had already collapsed.

Guan Junshan, however, seemed oblivious. After taking the medicine, he opened the plastic packaging and used the fork to scrape off a layer of cheesecake cream.

Beside him, Yang Yue wanted to say something but held back, ultimately not speaking.

The cream melted on his tongue, carrying the sweetness of cheap artificial flavoring. Guan Junshan's Adam's apple moved. He tasted it three times, each bite held in his mouth longer than the last, until finally it became too hard to swallow. He picked up the glass cup on the table and gulped down several big mouthfuls of warm water.

Water droplets rolled down his chin and throat into his collar, soaking his shirt and tie. Yang Yue scrambled to grab a few tissues from the coffee table, but he brushed them aside.

It was late. Guan Junshan told him to leave and get some rest. When he heard the door close behind him, he got up from the sofa and stumbled toward the bathroom.

The bathroom was much warmer than the living room. As Guan Junshan walked in, he saw the fog on the mirror and wiped it with his palm twice.

The mist dissipated, leaving behind a faint watermark. Droplets of water slid down the edges. Guan Junshan stood between the sink and the gray wall, the yellowish light from above illuminating his face. In the mirror, he saw himself—hair disheveled from the rain, eyes slightly red, lips dry and cracked, with a bit of cake crumb still stuck at the corner of his mouth.

It was the first time he had seen himself like this. From a young age, Guan Junshan had been taught to maintain dignity, not to overstep boundaries, and never to lose face. Everything in the world could be trivial to him, like a gust of wind through the mountains—it passed, and that was it. One should not look back, let alone linger.

Yet tonight, amidst the gentle, silvery drizzle, he felt a sudden urge to grab hold of that wind. He knew full well that the wind had already blown toward someone else and would never stop for him again.

Guan Junshan took off his clothes, removed his tie and watch, and slowly sat down in the bathtub, which was filled with water. The sound of water flowing reached his ears. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling covered in condensation.

Wrapped in the warm water, his thoughts began to grow weak and muddled. As soon as Guan Junshan closed his eyes, he thought of Lin Haoda's innocent face and the way he gently lifted his chin when they kissed. Their time together was too short. During the month of insomnia that followed, Guan Junshan would lie in bed every night at 11:30, thinking of nothing but recalling each of Lin Haoda's movements and expressions. By 5:30, when the sky outside lightened, his memories would come to an end.

It was like an old movie rewound and replayed endlessly. Even though Guan Junshan had watched it countless times and knew every frame and every line by heart, it represented the past. He could no longer be part of Lin Haoda's future.

Nights when he drank were a little easier. Occasionally, Guan Junshan would pull out those photos—things Lin Haoda had discarded, thrown into the trash. Even when drunk, the thought filled him with resentment, followed by regret.

About a year after they parted ways, on his birthday again, Guan Junshan had no desire to celebrate. The dinner party that night was arranged by Guan Yongyue, with a few major shareholders.

Guan Junshan drank quite a bit but wasn't noticeably drunk. When the driver helped him into the car, he cooperated, and when asked where he wanted to go, he said home, still maintaining a semblance of composure.

As the car drove on, it stopped at a red light. Guan Junshan lowered the window and gazed at the night scene for a while before suddenly speaking, saying he wanted to get out.

The driver found a nearby parking spot. Guan Junshan pushed open the door and stepped out. By the roadside was a convenience store open all night. He went in, bought a pack of cigarettes and a new SIM card.

The wind was strong outside. Guan Junshan stood in the shelter beneath the store's sign, head bowed, as he swapped the SIM card. While waiting for the signal, he opened the cigarette pack and asked the driver for a lighter.

The driver had no idea who he wanted to call, or why he had gone out of his way to buy a completely new, clean SIM card. The wind whipped the flame around. Guan Junshan cupped his hand to shield it, lit the cigarette, and dialed the number.

At first, the other party didn't answer. Guan Junshan hung up and dialed again. This time, someone on the other end said, "Hello." Guan Junshan's fingers, holding the cigarette, trembled almost imperceptibly in the dim shadows. A burnt piece of ash dropped onto his shoe.

With the chaotic wind noise, the other person probably couldn't hear anything clearly. From start to finish, Guan Junshan never spoke. Even his breathing became slow and heavy. He held the phone in his right hand, his gaze calm and fixed on the empty night sky. The lit cigarette went unsmoked, burning quietly on its own.

The call, which felt more like a nuisance, didn't last long. The other party quickly hung up. Guan Junshan dialed again, only to find he might have been blocked. Every attempt after that went unanswered.

But Guan Junshan said nothing. He pulled out the SIM card and casually tossed it into a nearby trash can, as if the person who had been so insistent on dialing over and over was not him.

Next to the convenience store was a cake shop that was still open. After throwing away the SIM card, Guan Junshan glanced at it, then walked over.

It was near closing time, so there weren't many options. He bought the last strawberry cake in the display case and took it back to the car.

The cake was cloyingly sweet, and because it had sat out too long, the strawberries were no longer fresh. The syrup glazing them melted completely soon after he opened the box, leaving it looking rather unappealing.

Guan Junshan had been drinking and couldn't eat much of the cream cake. The leftovers sat in the fridge for over a week before the cleaning lady eventually threw them in the trash.

When Guan Junshan got home from work and saw the empty spot in the fridge, a strange thought struck him: he wondered which was more pitiful—the discarded cake, or himself, fooling himself by keeping it there.

Sometimes he felt that Lin Haoda was like a sweet cream cake, placed far beyond his reach. It was him who had initially claimed not to like sweets, and later it was also him who recklessly wanted to bring Lin Haoda out of the display case.

For a long time after his birthday, Guan Junshan often drank without restraint and would bring cakes home, mixing them in with bottles of strong liquor.

The one thing he never tried again was calling Lin Haoda. There were moments when he couldn't help himself, wanting to hear his voice again—even if it meant just breathing in silence. Whenever that urge arose, Guan Junshan would open the cake box and take a bite of the cream.

It sounded like self-torture. Extreme sweetness intertwined with the bitterness of strong liquor, numbing his tongue. Unable to find any more joy in alcohol, he would get up, sweep all the bottles into the trash, and then stumble toward the bedroom.

The curtains in the room were open. The sky was overcast, and it might have been raining outside.

Guan Junshan collapsed onto the soft bed, the lingering taste of an impure sweetness still in his mouth. Perhaps the taste triggered memories. Every night he had cream, he slept soundly, dreaming of Lin Haoda—more effective than sleeping pills.

Lin Haoda generously gave him smiles, hugs, and kisses, like an endless, drifting beautiful dream.

When he woke up the next morning, Guan Junshan was once again the composed President Guan, not one to show much emotion.

His head still ached from the hangover. He called Yang Yue and asked him to cancel the morning schedule.

After breakfast, the driver came to pick them up. It had rained the night before, but the morning sun had come out, and the temperature had risen a bit.

Guan Junshan told the driver to head toward the tech park. The area was large, planned separately by the city government, and housed many young companies big and small. In the first half of the year, Guan Junshan had gone through layers of approval to relocate his studio into the park.

They arrived around ten in the morning. For most companies, that was already late to start work. But at Guan Junshan's studio, employees had flexible hours. As long as they met their required attendance, there were few other restrictions.

The office was quiet. Apart from two receptionists at the front desk, there weren't many people at their desks.

Guan Junshan walked toward his work area. Passing by the meeting room, he saw someone sitting inside with a disposable paper cup in front of them and a stack of documents at hand.

The meeting room had a fully transparent glass wall. Hearing footsteps, the person in the chair looked up and glanced toward the corridor from six or seven meters away.

Their eyes met. The other person nodded at him, smiled politely, then looked away and continued watching the business manager across from him.

Guan Junshan paused in his steps, furrowed his brows slightly, and turned to ask Yang Yue, "The one sitting in there."

His voice was very low. After a two-second pause, he continued, "Who is that?"

Without changing his expression, Yang Yue followed his gaze, took a quick glance, then looked away. "Must be a business partner here to discuss a project authorization. Do I need to check with the business department to confirm?"

Guan Junshan nodded and told him, "As soon as possible," then walked into his office and closed the door.

Half an hour later, Guan Junshan received the materials from his assistant. He opened the first page, briefly glanced at the photo, and his eyes landed on the column labeled "Name": Pei Mingyi.

Guan Junshan racked his memory and recalled that there were indeed two brothers named Pei who had made their fortune in real estate years ago.

The business discussion next door was still going on. Guan Junshan used the intercom to call Yang Yue in and told him, "Tell Mr. Pei that there is a cocktail party next week and invite him to attend."

Yang Yue nodded and turned to leave, but Guan Junshan called him back, "Oh, and it's a very casual occasion."

Guan Junshan finally closed the file, his voice a bit heavy, "He can bring a plus-one."

Yang Yue left, and not long after, sounds of cheerful laughter and conversation came from the room next door.

Alone in his office, Guan Junshan rubbed his throbbing temples, and the image of Lin Haoda's gentle, smiling face beneath the umbrella suddenly appeared in his mind again.

Up until today, Guan Junshan had thought he could be a magnanimous ex.

But now, he felt it was Lin Haoda who was heartless.

He had forgotten him so completely in such a short time, and even started a new life, a new relationship.

And the past he had left behind was like the box thrown into the airport departure lounge trash can—abandoned without a second thought or hesitation.

As if to prove through his actions to Guan Junshan that everything about him was easy to let go—including those vague promises, hopeless affections, and misplaced love.

Guan Junshan could only think: Lin Haoda is truly more open-minded than him.