Chapter Fifty-One – The Silence of Flutes and Shawms

She walked upstairs and drew open the curtains. The sky, a little past six, had not yet fully brightened. A faint chill seeped subtly into the room. Yishu closed the window. It had been a long night. An endless stretch of time—what it contained, she could not say.

She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. On the lowest shelf of the door, she found half a bag of sliced bread—just six slices left, exactly. Was it truly just enough? Distracted and absent-minded, she moved about the stove, like a machine set to carry out its program, devoid of feeling and thought. Perhaps the vessel within her that once held her thoughts was now so full, not even the width of a hair could be squeezed in.

The range hood roared as it drew out the faintest haze of smoke, as if such a great suction was needed for so little vapor—almost as though it could drain all the air from around her. Yishu placed the plates on the dining table and pressed her temples, easing the ache in her eyes. She went to the bathroom to wash away the fatigue of the night.

Returning to the bedroom, she meant to call Xu Shixi and tell him breakfast was ready. But she couldn’t find her phone anywhere—until, at last, she discovered it wedged between the bed and nightstand, thick with dust and lint. Luckily, it was shielded by a silicone case, or the screen would have been shattered to pieces. She remembered speaking with Yihui in the living room before leaving yesterday—how had her phone ended up under the bed? Yishu was puzzled. Perhaps she remembered wrong.

She pressed the power button, but the screen remained black. She pressed again—still nothing. Holding the button down with her thumb for five or six seconds, there was still no response. The battery must be dead. She rummaged through her beige shoulder bag for the charger, plugged it in, and set the phone to charge.

Xu Shixi had been staying at Tang Dai’s apartment for an hour now. How much longer would he remain?

Her phone screen stayed dark. Yishu stood by the table, hesitating—should she wait until the phone had enough charge to call him, or go upstairs and fetch him now? As she wavered, Xu Shixi pushed open the door and came in. The stiffness in Yishu’s face eased at last.

“Come have breakfast,” she said, pulling out a chair for him. “You have to go to work soon—you’ll be late.”

“I’ll take something up to her and come back to eat,” Xu Shixi replied, picking up a plate of sandwiches and a glass of milk.

“She’s awake?” Yishu asked softly.

He looked especially weary. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and at the corner, a faint crow’s-foot appeared.

“She just woke up.”

Yishu watched him go, his retreating figure carrying all the memories of a lifetime in the span of just a few hours.

Tang Dai emerged from the bath, wrapped in a pink coral fleece robe, towel in hand, her head tipped to one side as she gently dried her hair. Droplets of water fell one after another from the tips of her hair. Xu Shixi set the breakfast down on the table, called out to her, and was about to leave.

“Wait.” Tang Dai stopped him, tossing her towel over the back of a chair.

Xu Shixi halted, back to her. “It’s getting late—get yourself together, you’ve got work.”

“Wait,” she called again. “Last night, was it you…”

“No!” Xu Shixi cut her off before she could finish, hesitating about whether to mention Yishu. If he told her, she might lose control; but if he didn’t, there was no third party here to speak of. After weighing it all, he decided to tell the truth to avoid unnecessary awkwardness. “It was Yishu who looked after you all night.”

“Why her?” Tang Dai flew into a rage. “Who needed her pity? Was she here to gloat over me?”

“Yishu is not that kind of person!” Xu Shixi defended her. He thought of how Yishu had humbled herself and endured the night for his sake, how much she had sacrificed for his own reluctance to refuse. She did not deserve such accusation or injustice. “I asked her to come. You’d drunk yourself sick and thrown up everywhere—do you think you could have changed by yourself?”

Tang Dai was shaken, as if Xu Shixi’s words had pushed her to the edge of a cliff, staring into a bottomless abyss. Her feet hovered on the line between life and death, small pebbles crumbling away into the depths below.

“Why are you so cold to me?” she asked, almost in despair. For eight years, this man had been the object of her longing, the one she could never forget. Now he seemed like a stranger, as if she’d never truly known him. A bitter smile twisted her lips. After all, eight years had passed; everything had changed. Only she had foolishly, naively believed that everything remained frozen in that scene from eight years ago, when the rain had cleared and a rainbow spanned the sky.

With a sigh, Xu Shixi turned away, leaving all her resentment and tears behind him. So long as he did not look back, none of it concerned him. In truth, eight years ago, a clear decision had already been made. Though the outcome was forced upon him, over the years, the wound had healed.

He had thought the past would be buried forever beneath the dust of history. Yet after repeated disturbances, it had clawed its way to the surface: first a limb, then the whole.

Fate, when one believes the storm has passed and a new life may begin, will cruelly unleash a downpour all over again. Xu Shixi had planned to spend his days alone, but heaven arranged his meeting with Su Yishu. She was a bright beam of sunlight then, illuminating his gray path, coloring a drab world with vivid hues.

But peace is fleeting; even calm seas can erupt with towering waves.

“We’re just colleagues, nothing more,” he said, turning his head slightly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “There shouldn’t be any excessive familiarity between us, don’t you think?”

What a question! Tang Dai was struck dumb—she could think of nothing to say. He was right: they were coworkers now, nothing more, their past insignificant. In truth, he was unwilling to revisit it at all.

Xu Shixi stepped over the threshold, but a pair of hands, soft as sprouting reeds, clung tightly to his waist. “Don’t go. Please.” She pleaded, “Don’t go.”

He pried her fingers away, one by one, secretly relieved that Yishu wasn’t present—otherwise, even the Yellow River couldn’t wash him clean.

“Don’t be like this! The you I know shouldn’t be this way.”

“What kind of person do you think I should be?” Tang Dai seemed to collapse, half her strength gone. “The Tang Dai you knew died eight years ago. What remains is a ghost—rootless, without self.”

She had once wished to be reborn, to forget the past, to start anew. But her grievances were too deep, her wishes unfulfilled; she was not permitted to move on. Now she was only a walking corpse, bearing a heavy shell. So very tired.

“Truly tired.” Tang Dai leaned on Xu Shixi’s shoulder.

She regretted it; if only she’d had the courage to defy Tang Jingguo’s will back then, perhaps everything would be different now.

No, it would definitely be different! At least things wouldn’t be this bad.

“The person I knew was strong, confident, proud.”

“Without you, who am I supposed to be strong for, confident for, proud for?” Tang Dai moaned, her tears soaking his shirt.

Xu Shixi said no more. This was a debate with no end, on a subject devoid of meaning. He brushed aside her hands and left, resolute.

“I left breakfast on the table,” his figure dissolved into the twilight, only the outline of his tall frame visible. “Don’t forget to eat.”

She watched as he vanished from her world. For a moment, she wished that corridor would stretch on forever, so she could keep watching him go, endlessly.

She leaned against the doorframe, dazed for a long while.

Then, the sound of breaking dishes echoed through the morning air. In this high-end apartment building, it was no more than the chirp of a bird or the drone of an insect—no one would pay it any mind.

Xu Shixi summoned his courage and pressed down on the door handle.

Yishu had just finished breakfast, placing her plate and cup in the sink, scrubbing them lightly with a scouring pad. They weren’t dirty enough for detergent.

She returned to her room, grabbed a jacket, slung her bag over her shoulder. From her pocket, she drew out a hair tie strung with a metal leaf, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

She avoided Xu Shixi’s gaze.

At the entrance, she slipped on a pair of blue sneakers with white trim.

“I’m heading to work. Breakfast… I reheated it for you. Please remember to eat.”

“Yi—” Xu Shixi started to speak, lifting his chin as if to say something, but in the end, nothing came out.