Chapter Sixty-Two—

The return speed matched that of the journey there, yet Xu Shixi felt as if an invisible force was fiercely tugging at the back of the high-speed train. The distant scenery crept by so slowly it made her heart race; the nearby flow, when she lowered her gaze, flashed by in a dizzying blur.

Tang Dai sat in the waiting hall, looking around in confusion. The crowd thronged like sparrows trapped in a narrow cage, dark and dense, their voices nearly lifting the entire dome above. Beside her stood Qiao Siming, legs crossed, hands folded beneath his chin, gazing dreamily at the pairs of brightly colored shoes passing by.

They would remain in this chaotic, cold, illusory space until tomorrow morning.

Tickets for the high-speed rail from Xiamen to Yun City had sold out days ago. Xu Shixi was lucky enough to snap up a returned ticket. Tang Dai was less fortunate; even the earliest train required waiting until 7:50 the next morning. Qiao Siming urged her to return to the hotel for the night—after all, she had paid a deposit, and it wouldn’t be refunded if she didn’t stay. But Tang Dai refused to go back; it seemed that staying in the waiting hall brought her closer to Yun City.

Elsewhere, colleagues from other departments gathered around a table laden with delicacies, animatedly piecing together snippets they’d heard, weaving them into stories with all the literary skills learned in their student days—quoting classics, drawing analogies—until a tale detached from reality was born.

“You still haven’t told me—how did you get back?”

“I came back last night.” The six days without her felt like six long years. So, the dreamlike feeling last night was real. Yes, only the emotions he brought her were so tender and true; otherwise, her body wouldn’t have surrendered to sleep so readily.

“I don’t feel comfortable with you alone at home,” Xu Shixi deliberately changed the subject.

“Not comfortable with me alone at home?” Did she mishear? “So are you back to be my bodyguard or my housekeeper?”

“For you, I wear many hats.” Xu Shixi counted silently: boyfriend, roommate, personal bodyguard, housekeeper, and one day, husband. “But I only draw one salary.”

“In that case, you can resign.” Yishu raised her eyebrows. “Here, you can leave whenever you wish—no need to give a month’s notice.”

“If I left, where would you find someone as clever and capable as me, who doesn’t care about compensation?” Xu Shixi replied sweetly, unwilling to back down.

“Did you come back just to debate with me?” Yishu admitted defeat; she knew Xu Shixi’s eloquence far surpassed her own. Usually, he reserved it for work, making the most of it; in life, he always conveyed the most precise meaning with the simplest words.

“Yishu—” Xu Shixi gazed at her with affection. “Only in your absence did I realize how cold and empty the days became. It was as if every colorful scene was dusted with gray lime. I only hope that every journey from now on, we walk together, hand in hand.”

Yishu was caught off guard by the sudden romantic words, at a loss for what to do. She was still unaccustomed to such sentimental lines; love felt more sincere held in the heart than spoken aloud.

Xu Shixi thawed the frozen earth, nurturing a long-dormant seed, its two vibrant green leaves yearning for wider horizons—just like his restless, eager heart.

In truth, Xu Shixi and Su Yishu had come together on a whim. It wasn’t love at first sight, at most a first impression. After several encounters and deeper understanding, that affection grew strong.

A man in his early thirties, the wild and blazing passions of youth no longer held any appeal. He couldn’t emulate the father-daughter dynamic some men sought; it was neither natural nor bearable for him. He preferred the dialogue of equals—knowing what each other needed; in the silent night, offering a soft coat; on a scorching mountain, handing over a bottle of water; watching her bustle about the kitchen, more fascinating than any movie.

There are many people fit for one’s life, but only one encountered at the right moment.

Yishu appeared in his life at just the right time. Likewise, had he not arrived in hers at the perfect moment as well?

“Are you upset?”

Hearing Yishu’s clueless question, Xu Shixi’s face lengthened; he rarely suppressed his shame to bare his heart, only for her to dismiss it, truly disappointing his sincerity.

“Let’s say I am upset.”

“Are you angry?” Yishu asked hesitantly.

“I am not!” Xu Shixi replied stubbornly.

How could that be? Clearly, he was angry. Yishu surrendered; sometimes, a woman lowering her stance in a relationship is highly beneficial.

“Thank you, Shixi,” Yishu said softly.

“What are you thanking me for?” Xu Shixi’s eyes widened.

“Thank you for coming back especially for me.”

Yishu rolled her dark, diamond-like eyes upward, peering at Xu Shixi through the gap between her bangs and lashes—steady, wise, but not stiff. Occasionally a bit of temper, sometimes a hint of charm. It seemed there were many unknown riddles waiting for her to solve.

Time was late; moments spent in laughter always flew by.

Yishu leaned against Shixi’s shoulder as they walked toward the underground parking lot. Autumn had passed a month and a half ago, yet the temperature still lingered around twenty-eight or twenty-nine degrees.

The textile city’s only flaw was its poor ventilation design. Each shop had only a door and three walls; air exchanged simply through the four main gates at each compass point via the interior corridor.

Yishu sat in a chair, dazed. Across from her, Guo Yamei seemed in high spirits, wearing a cheerful smile all day. Business today, like yesterday, wasn’t great. Clearly, her happiness wasn’t from sales. Yishu guessed it had much to do with her leave of absence the day before.

Yesterday, Guo Yamei’s son’s kindergarten held an autumn outing; parents were required to accompany their children, otherwise participation was forfeited. A few teachers managing dozens of students couldn’t be everywhere at once. If an accident occurred, the compensation could push the kindergarten to the brink of closure.

The event was at the Eastern Fairy Tale Park, built only five years ago but already the largest, best-equipped amusement venue in Yun City. Last spring, a TV station filmed a variety show there, boosting its fame. The intercity subway’s completion further expanded the park’s reach.

Guo Yamei’s son cried and insisted on going. She had no choice but to plead for a day off from Liu Hanzhang at Kaisheng, nearly kneeling for it. She knew she wasn’t a qualified mother—her son was five, and she spent very little time with him. This time, she was determined to grant his wish.

The more Yishu pondered, the more she couldn’t help but glance at Guo Yamei.

Guo Yamei’s sensitivity rivaled Su Yishu’s. She sensed the gaze at once, promptly tucking away her smile, mastering the art of concealment.

Yishu ignored her, dozing off before her computer screen.

When she awoke, she was in a hospital. She could hardly believe it, afraid she was dreaming of illness. Hospital—a frightening word, forever entwined with disease and death. Yet, she was truly sitting on a metal bench outside the operating room.

The cold metal felt strangely warm; she had been sitting there a long while.

Returning home, Yishu found Xu Shixi neither waiting on the sofa nor in the study. He had no social engagements these days, nor did he enjoy noisy gatherings. Had he vanished into thin air? That belonged to tales of gods and ghosts—how could such absurdity unfold in real life?

Just as Yishu was about to dial Shixi’s number, he called her first. His opening line: he was at the hospital.

Usually calm, Yishu lost her composure. She managed only, “I’ll be right there,” hung up, dashed out of Fu Garden, flagged a taxi, and urged the driver straight to Yun City Hospital. The driver kept his speed under sixty; having received two tickets this month, he refused to go faster.

Hospitals were certainly not places that cheered one’s mood.

Yishu hurried to the information desk, asking if a patient named Xu Shixi had been admitted. The nurse entered his name into the computer—no such person found. She asked them to check again, perhaps the system was faulty. They insisted there was no record, and told her to call and confirm which hospital he was sent to.

Yishu suddenly realized that, upon hearing he was at the hospital, she had rushed over without even asking which one. Besides Yun City Hospital, there were two other major hospitals in town. Before making any move, she called him. Hearing his booming voice, he didn’t sound sick or injured.

He didn’t say much, only that he was outside the operating room at Yun City Hospital.

Her anxiety dropped by ninety percent, but her confusion doubled.