We Can’t Go Back 57

Chapter 57

This mentor and student duo truly were a match made in sarcasm.

Jian Wu pursed his lips, remembering the day Song Shuci changed his profile picture and simultaneously hid his Moments posts.

“Are you free now? Let’s have a chat,” Lu Lizhu said.

What could Lu Lizhu, someone completely unrelated to him, possibly want to talk about? Jian Wu could only think of Song Shuci. He instinctively felt this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation, but after thinking about it, he still agreed.

They sat down at a cafe near A Medical University. Lu Lizhu offered to order him coffee, but afraid of insomnia, he only asked for water.

“I think you probably know why I asked to see you, so I’ll be straightforward,” Lu Lizhu glanced at his watch, then looked at Jian Wu, “I don’t know if Song Shuci told you, but I strongly disapproved of your relationship.”

The man wasn’t tall, but his gaze was sharp. Talented individuals of this age were usually in their prime, not yet adopting the roundabout language of school leaders, and spoke directly.

Jian Wu looked at him: “I’m somewhat aware.”

“Before you came to City A, Song Shuci arrived at 7 am and left at 1 am every day, his research progressed quickly. After you came, he started leaving earlier and arriving later, not to mention the many weekends I couldn’t even find him.”

Lu Lizhu frowned: “I think you probably also know about his research being scooped. Of course, there was an element of bad luck, but personally, I think if Song Shuci hadn’t been distracted this past year, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You might think I’m being harsh, then you’re welcome to come to our lab and see if I’m not the first to arrive and the last to leave, if there isn’t always someone in the lab, no matter what time. Don’t think I’m exploiting Song Shuci. I also have clinical students in my group. They do rounds at 8 am every day, perform surgeries during the day, and still manage to do experiments in my lab until two or three in the morning. Aren’t they also working hard? Don’t they also want to have relationships? Everyone is working for their future.”

“This is City A, full of talented individuals, you can hit a graduate student with a brick just by throwing it randomly into a crowd. I know you young people value love, but you have to understand, Jian, you can’t have your cake and eat it too. Those of us without connections or background have to work hard to get ahead, and to succeed, we inevitably have to sacrifice some things.”

“I’m forty-three this year. After my ex-wife divorced me, I never remarried. My failed marriage taught me the most profound lesson: you can’t have it both ways.”

“Of course, there are many professor couples in our department, that’s because they’re in sync, they can help each other. I don’t object to that kind of situation, but clearly, you’re not that kind of person. Shuci is a very capable student, talented and hardworking.”

“Jian,” he leaned forward, an aggressive posture, “You can’t help him, at least you shouldn’t hold him back, am I right?”

Jian Wu looked at the thin man before him, silent, only silent.

Lu Lizhu’s words were forceful, leaving him no room for argument. By the time he finished, Jian Wu didn’t know what to say anymore.

The most frustrating arguments were those where you realized the other person wasn’t entirely wrong.

He couldn’t even be angry at Lu Lizhu, because Lu Lizhu wasn’t even attacking him, just stating a fact.

He couldn’t refute this fact.

Song Shuci did spend a lot of time on him this past year, and he truly didn’t like, and couldn’t, keep up with Song Shuci’s workaholism.

And more than Lu Lizhu’s thoughts, what he wanted to know at this moment was whether Song Shuci had ever, even for a moment, had the same thoughts as Lu Lizhu.

He probably did.

He remembered when he was busy with club activities in university and gave up on transferring majors, Song Shuci had said to him, “Can you focus more on what’s important?” He remembered when he said he didn’t want to go to graduate school, Song Shuci had said with a hint of helplessness: “Then what do you want to do?”

In middle school, the last-ranked student could happily date the top student, but the adult world was so cruel, even a slight lag would create an insurmountable gap between two people.

Are you ashamed, Jian Wu?

A seven-year relationship that became a burden for the other person.

When he came out of the cafe, the sun was shining brightly, but he felt cold.

He called Song Shuci again. He didn’t press the direct dial button, but entered the number digit by digit, repeatedly, as if this would make the call connect more easily.

He called for an hour, but it was still to no avail.

The landlord was urging him for rent again, and at the same time, Cheng Xian transferred him another 10,000 yuan.

He couldn’t reach Song Shuci yesterday, so he had asked Cheng Xian for money again, intending to pay the rent first, but now, he suddenly felt very tired.

Jian Wu stood there for a long time, watching the medical elites of A Medical University rushing past, until his legs felt stiff, then he turned and left.

He first went to a nearby service center and got a new SIM card, then opened his phone and randomly bought a plane ticket departing from City A. He didn’t even look at the destination, just bought it because the price was low.

After returning home, Jian Wu arranged for Wansui to be shipped and started packing. He first packed a few clothes, then went to his desk, where his study materials and many gifts from Song Shuci were placed. He picked up the paper ring and put it in his suitcase, but just as he was about to close it, his eyelashes trembled. He took it out from the pile of clothes and put it back on the desk.

In the end, he only took the twenty-four birthday letters Song Shuci had written him.

That night, he lay in this bed for the last time. As expected, he couldn’t sleep. He got up around four o’clock, then, in a rare moment of extravagance, took a taxi to the airport for his 7 am flight.

He didn’t know that Song Shuci, on the other end, after working on his computer for three days straight, had finally finished the paper that had been scooped.

The day after their argument, he was bombarded with calls from Lu Lizhu. After the hospital proposal, he had squeezed out a lot of time to be with Jian Wu, hanging up on Lu Lizhu’s calls several times and not staying in the lab at night, infuriating Lu Lizhu, who ordered him to finish the paper immediately or he would give the first authorship to someone else.

Song Shuci didn’t want to go to the lab, so he worked on it in the dormitory. Lu Lizhu, not seeing him, kept calling him. Song Shuci, annoyed, argued with him and put his phone on silent, tossing it aside.

Before silencing his phone, he had glanced at the chat with Jian Wu, but Jian Wu hadn’t sent him any messages.

This wasn’t unexpected. When it came to cold wars, he was never Jian Wu’s match. He was almost always the first to apologize and make amends.

But it’s okay, he thought.

After finishing this paper, he should be able to compose himself and go back to apologize to Jian Wu.

After three days of hard work, he finally sent the document to Lu Lizhu’s email.

When he reached for his phone, which had been tossed onto his upper bunk, it was dead. As soon as he plugged in the charger, he was startled by the number of missed calls, and soon, he saw the two messages from Jian Wu.

One was from two days ago—”Are you ignoring me?”

The other from last night—”I told the landlord I’m moving out, he said we can stay until tomorrow at the latest, remember to come and get your things.”

His heart suddenly raced. He grabbed his phone and charger and rushed out. He didn’t even care that many of his classmates were still asleep. He called Jian Wu before he even left the dormitory building.

Jian Wu answered quickly, making him slightly relieved, but before he could fully relax, he heard the airport announcement in the background.

“Where are you?” his voice was hoarse, almost unable to speak.

Jian Wu paused for a long time before saying: “The airport.”

Song Shuci’s mind exploded: “Where are you going?”

“We broke up, Song Shuci,” Jian Wu’s voice sounded calm, “You don’t need to know where I’m going.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore your calls, I was working on the paper, I—”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Jian Wu interrupted him.

His voice was calm, even a little cold. If he weren’t standing right in front of him, he wouldn’t have noticed the tears streaming down his face.

“Which airport are you at? I’ll come find you right away,” Song Shuci said.

“I’m boarding in ten minutes, you won’t make it.”

“Then don’t get on the plane, wait for me!”

“Plane tickets are expensive,” Jian Wu said, “I can’t wait.”

“Do you have to leave? Didn’t we agree to go abroad together, even dreaming about… going to Stockholm to receive the award together?”

Going to Stockholm to receive the award… yes, on the night they looked at wedding rings, walking hand in hand by the river, discussing their future, he had indeed joked about that. He wouldn’t take it seriously, but Song Shuci might have actually fantasized about it.

Jian Wu closed his eyes, Lu Lizhu’s words and the painful thought flashing through his mind again.

As expected, Song Shuci’s ideal partner should be someone who could stand with him at the peak of scientific research.

“That’s your dream… not mine,” he said, his voice almost indifferent, twisting the knife in Song Shuci’s heart.

“If you want to achieve that dream, you can find someone else.”

“Then what about you, where are you going?”

“Me? Of course, I’m going to find someone rich, someone who can support me, someone who will let me be lazy,” Jian Wu wiped away his tears with a smile, “At least… someone who won’t make me scramble to borrow money for rent in the middle of the night, right?”

“Jian Wu…” Song Shuci’s voice trembled, “Don’t be impulsive.”

“I’m not being impulsive.”

“Then don’t get on the plane, Jian Wu,” Song Shuci’s voice was choked with desperation, like a cornered animal, resorting to threats, “If you dare to get on that plane, I swear I’ll never come looking for you again in this lifetime.”

Jian Wu’s eyelashes trembled violently.

“Ge,” he took a deep breath, “I wish you a bright future.”

He hung up, removed the SIM card, and threw it in the trash, not giving himself any chance to hear Song Shuci’s voice, leaving no room for regret or second thoughts.

He watched the bustling, dazzling city shrink smaller and smaller from the airplane window and suddenly remembered the first time he came to City A when he was eighteen.

That day, excited and amazed, he had dragged Song Shuci around on the subway all day, exclaiming: “So this is what a subway looks like, so interesting! City A is so great, it even has a subway, unlike City B, which only has buses.”

Then, six years later, squeezed like a dried prune on the City A subway during rush hour, he missed the buses of City B.

City A was finally getting further and further away, and he was about to fly to a completely unfamiliar place. He finally lost control and silently wept on the plane.

Such an ending was truly pathetic.