Hidden Under the Rain

Chapter 3: The Last Meeting (3)

Gu Shen chose an old café in the older part of the city.

That café had been there since our university days, hidden in an alley shaded by locust trees, its front so small you could almost miss it. Gu Shen took me there for the first time in my sophomore year. He said it was his favorite place in this city. The coffee wasn't good, but it was quiet. The owner, a taciturn middle-aged man, was always wiping glasses behind the counter, like a still painting.

We went there often after that. During exam weeks, after making up from a fight, when we had nowhere else to go. It almost became our spot. Every corner was stuffed with memories of him and me.

I didn't know why Gu Shen chose it. Maybe because he was leaving tomorrow and wanted to say goodbye to the city properly. Maybe for other reasons.

I arrived ten minutes early.

When I pushed open the familiar wooden door, the wind chimes made a crisp sound. The café's decor had hardly changed. The same old wooden tables and chairs, the same yellowed posters on the walls, the same warm yellow lighting that made the whole space feel like an amber dream.

The person behind the counter had changed. It wasn't the silent middle-aged man anymore, but a young girl with a ponytail. She glanced at me and said, "Sit anywhere."

I chose a seat by the window.

The locust trees outside were a full circle thicker than they were five years ago. Their branches stretched out, cutting the sky above the alley into countless tiny blue fragments. The June sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

I unconsciously glanced at the chair across from me.

Empty.

Five minutes later, the café door opened again.

The wind chimes rang twice. I heard footsteps approaching from the door. Not hurried. Leather shoes on the old wooden floor, making a steady, rhythmic sound.

I didn't look up. Not because I didn't want to, but because my neck seemed frozen, too stiff to move.

The footsteps stopped across from me.

Then the sound of a chair being pulled out.

Someone sat down.

A new scent entered the air. It wasn't perfume, but the faint smell of laundry detergent, mixed with a hint of tobacco. Gu Shen didn't used to smoke. It seemed some things had changed in five years.

Finally, I looked up.

Gu Shen sat across from me.

He wore a thin black jacket over a dark gray T-shirt. His hair was shorter than before. His jawline was still sharp, his brow bone still high. He had lost weight. Not the unhealthy kind, but his whole silhouette had become sharper, more lethal, like a blade that had been honed repeatedly.