Chapter One Hundred and Twelve — Leaving Without Saying Goodbye

He raised his hand to wipe the tear stains from the corner of her eyes, and with his thin lips, he drew it in completely.

These were her tears.

And in a way, they were his tears as well.

Xu Shixi kneaded Yishu's shoulders with both hands. At such close proximity, gazing directly into another's eyes, every secret and privacy hidden deep within the heart were laid bare. It was a temptation fraught with danger.

Yishu met his gaze, searching for some indescribable, elusive substance in his eyes.

Time seemed suspended, or perhaps slowed to a crawl.

“You knew I’d be back today, so you prepared all the food?” Xu Shixi’s attention was finally drawn to the aroma of the dishes.

It wasn’t so. Merely coincidence.

Yishu’s smile was stiff and unnatural, “Go wash your hands and eat.” She changed the subject.

Xu Shixi took off the jacket dusted with pale gray powder, brushed it off from top to bottom, and hung it on the rack in the entryway. “Yishu, help me take this jacket to the dry cleaners tomorrow.”

“Alright—” Yishu glanced toward him, “I’ll take it for you tomorrow.”

Xu Shixi had exacting standards for dry cleaning. He had painstakingly tried nearly every dry cleaner in Yun City, and finally found one in a shop beneath an apartment complex near Textile City.

It seemed everyone was compelled at times to do something foolish, without knowing the meaning or reason. An instinctive response, a primal impulse.

Xu Shixi was looking for slippers in the shoe cabinet when he noticed two messy black cotton slippers on the floor.

Had someone been here?

Perhaps Yihui?

Tracing the timeline—leaving Yun City for Rong City, then returning once more—it had been over a month.

He was almost forgetting the taste of longing, his whole being engulfed by a tart, bitter fluid.

Yishu watched Shixi enter the bathroom, suddenly remembering Tang Chao’s presence.

If unnecessary misunderstandings arose, how should she resolve them?

She hurried back to her room, unplugged her phone from the charger.

“Is the food ready? I’m coming right over!” Before she could speak, Tang Chao fired off a rapid string of words through the phone.

“……” Yishu couldn’t get a word in, anxiously waiting for him to finish.

He hung up, domineeringly.

“Let’s eat.” Xu Shixi came out of the bathroom, having washed up briefly. The fresh scent of a man returned to him, though a trace of weariness lingered.

Her gaze spun in panic, feigning calm as she slid her phone back into her pocket.

She knew some boundaries must be kept, some people must not be touched, knew that once something happened, it could never be reversed. Yet those “knowing”s were like a viral epidemic, mutating everywhere, unstoppable.

For a moment, she felt guilty.

A betrayal that would never arrive.

Yishu had to admit, Tang Chao’s relentless persistence had taken root somewhere in her mind. Whether it was important or not, he was present.

She’d met Tang Chao during a debate on campus violence. Their acquaintance deepened when he foolishly stood up for Tang Dai.

What kind of person was he, really?

Could two entirely different characters coexist in one person?

Tang Chao’s game ended amid a chorus of criticism. He grabbed a bottle of water from the table, drained it in one gulp, and felt a chill in his chest, coughing twice.

—If he fell ill again, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.

Tang Chao closed his laptop, walked to the door, and heard the entryway open. “Looks like someone couldn’t wait and came upstairs to find me.” He couldn’t help but smile.

“Sis!” He turned the corner, but his self-assured smile sank. “Why are you back?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Tang Dai unzipped her boots, changed into slippers, and looked up, “I rent this place, of course I can be here.” She stood, “Why aren’t you attending classes in Shanghai? Why do you always come back to Yun City? I remember you weren’t so attached to home before.” She took the elastic from her hair, smoothing out the messy strands, “If you’re homesick, you should go back to our place in Shanghai. Dad must miss you.”

“He doesn’t miss me!” Tang Chao denied flatly, his eyes instantly cold. “He said he only has a daughter, not a son.”

“What about Mom? She always cares about you, right?” Tang Dai didn’t want to rehash decades of family drama. After a month of fatigue and torment, even new stories lost their appeal.

“I’ll go see her.” Hearing about Tang Jingguo, Tang Chao’s eyelids drooped.

His mother’s status at home was lower than Uncle He, their housekeeper. She seemed to know her words carried little weight. In Tang Chao’s memory, she was always cautious, and later grew silent.

She never smiled when happy, shed only a few tears when sad. She’d mastered the art of controlling her tears—never losing control, never breaking down.

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” she said, looking at him. “Do you want to go back together?”

“We’ll see.” It wasn’t time yet.

“So you plan to stay here?” she asked.

“Is there a problem?” A flicker of confusion crossed his face. “You live here alone, I live here too. What’s the difference?”

“I won’t come back again.” She spoke each word clearly. “Once I return to Shanghai, I won’t come back.” Yun City—perhaps she should never have come. This journey brought her more heartbreak than eight years ago. Her youth, her Xu Shixi, her eight wandering years—all could finally be closed with a crooked, uncertain period. “I paid three years’ rent in advance. If you want to stay, keep living here.”

“You’re not coming back?” Tang Chao couldn’t believe it. “You’re giving up on Xu Shixi? You came to Yun City for him, how can you give up so easily?”

I gave up eight years ago, but I kept living in that haze. “You should give up on Su Yishu too. Don’t be so obsessed.”

She didn’t understand what it was about Su Yishu that attracted him. Perhaps it was their shared resolve to defend their own interests that made the colors before her eyes lose their purity.

She’d wanted to stop his foolish actions. But in the end, she did not. Not because she’d changed her mind, but because she knew that once he set his mind, nothing could stop him until he saw it through.

Why waste effort chasing the wind?

Xu Shixi might be nothing more than a gust of wind, sweeping through and gone.

“I’m not like you.” He insisted.

“You will be.” Tang Dai saw through the world with serene detachment.

Tang Chao couldn’t grasp the meaning behind her words.

He stood there, at a loss.

In the end, he didn’t go downstairs to Xu Shixi’s for dinner.

…

Tang Dai left decisively. As soon as dawn broke, she dragged her suitcase to the curb and hailed a taxi straight to the high-speed rail station.

Between Yun City and Shanghai, the high-speed rail was far more convenient than flying.

Xu Shixi didn’t see her off.

In fact, she had told him the day before there was no need for trouble.

To her, entanglements only led to knots that could never be cut, never unraveled.

“You should go see her off,” Yishu’s words echoed in his ear.

A formal farewell, unconcerned with others’ opinions. It was so pure, so clean, so innocent. At the very least, it would rewrite the abrupt parting from eight years ago with a perfect ending.

Xu Shixi descended the stairs.

When Tang Chao was woken by a frantic knocking at the door, Xu Shixi had already been waiting outside for nearly half an hour.

“Shixi, it’s barely dawn!” Tang Chao’s eyes barely opened, squinting.

“Is your sister here?” Xu Shixi patted his shoulder, peering inside.

“She’s asleep.” He yawned, “I’ll go call her.”

When he saw the empty room, almost at the same moment, he shouted, “She’s gone, back to Shanghai.”

Wasn’t it supposed to be the ten o’clock train? Why did she change the time?

Yesterday, Xu Shixi insisted on seeing Tang Dai off. After repeated refusals, she impatiently invented a time.

“Why did you do this to my sister?” Tang Chao’s temper flared unexpectedly, without reason.

Xu Shixi sniffed, his lips trembling. He’d answered that question more than once; there was no need to repeat.

By the time Xu Shixi reached the station, Tang Dai had already left Yun City an hour earlier.

She remained resolute. Just as eight years ago, she would never indulge in melodramatic farewells.