Chapter Eighty-Seven — Heartfelt Confessions

Driving back along the road they had come, a faint mist gradually gathered ahead. Xu Shixi switched from low beams to high beams, but visibility remained limited, only as far as the eye could see. Yishu sat in the back seat; she had thought about moving to the passenger seat, only to remember after the car set off. Not wanting the trouble for a mere thirty-minute journey, she let it be.

“Have you resolved the issues with your brother?” Xu Shixi asked.

“I think, perhaps only halfway,” Yishu replied, her gaze fixed forward. On both sides, darkness stretched endlessly, making her drowsy. The rain and mist ahead, illuminated by the headlights, revealed only vague outlines of objects.

“Halfway resolved?” Xu Shixi pressed the left turn signal and turned the steering wheel, entering another road. “Then what’s the other half? Why not resolve it all at once?”

“I don’t know.” Yishu’s arched brows straightened, her eyes dimming slowly. “Maybe it can’t be resolved, or maybe there isn’t another half—perhaps I’m overthinking.”

Xu Shixi didn’t quite follow Yishu’s muttered words. He glanced at her quickly, then turned his eyes back to the road, the entire exchange lasting less than two seconds.

“Then tell me, what do you imagine the other half to be?” His curiosity was piqued.

“I can’t say. It’s just a feeling, nothing more.” Yishu rubbed her neck, bringing her hair forward.

Yihui had finally reached the age where he could hide his thoughts. In the past, every worry, big or small, was written all over his face. Anyone with a basic sense of judgment and analysis could guess his feelings: being punished by teachers, bullied by classmates, injured, his first time dealing with puberty—Yishu was always the first to know. Her ability to observe and analyze wasn’t particularly remarkable. Rather, when faced with someone who either couldn’t or wouldn’t hide their emotions, no special talent was needed. It’s like a student ranked first and another ranked last doing a simple “1+1” math problem—could you really determine who’s better based on that alone?

“I think you’re overthinking,” Xu Shixi said dismissively. “Probably Yihui didn’t discuss it and gave up his chance to attend university on his own, choosing instead to work at the teahouse. You just couldn’t accept it at first. But now you’ve come to terms with it, things will get better.”

Is it really as he says? Yishu’s thoughts wavered. Like dew drops resting on lotus leaves, swayed by the breeze and ripples of the lake, her mind oscillated back and forth. A person’s thoughts are often influenced by external factors, hard to hold steadfast. When the outside pressure becomes overwhelming, the dew dries, falls into the lake, and disappears without a trace.

“But I’m curious—how did you manage to resolve a knot that troubled you for days in just half an hour?” Xu Shixi’s curiosity was unusually persistent today, his questions one after another, unrelenting.

“I’m curious too,” Yishu said, licking her dry lips. “Yihui didn’t say much to me. I suppose I figured it out myself.” Truly, when faced with inner turmoil, no one but oneself can play the role of comforter. Yishu had once read an online conversation between a psychological expert and a depression patient. The experts seemed remarkable, uncovering the patient’s long-standing troubles with just a few questions. Then they would probe deeper into the causes, unraveling layer by layer, and offer knowledge as consolation. For severe cases, medication might be added. But how many people are truly cured?

So, when Yishu encountered depressive thoughts, she wouldn’t cry loudly or shop compulsively. She would simply sit quietly in a chair or lie on the bed, letting time wash away the gray marks.

“He’s an adult now. I shouldn’t treat him as a child anymore. If he’s found the life he wants, as long as he doesn’t stray, I have no right to stop him.” I must let go, she thought. He needs his sky and freedom, and I need my life and pursuits.

“It’s good you’ve come to terms with it,” Xu Shixi said, happy for her. “These days, you seemed absent-minded, no appetite at meals, and I could only worry.”

Should people live a little more selfishly?

“What did you say?”

“I said, is it right to be selfish?” Yishu repeated the words she had whispered.

“Are you talking about Yihui?” Xu Shixi drove into the underground parking lot of Fragrant Garden. “I don’t think it’s selfish. It’s letting go. Like you said, he’s grown up. If you keep paving the way for him, he’ll lose the ability to stand on his own, and you’ll end up exhausted.”

Yishu felt a certain resistance to Xu Shixi’s words. Though they spoke to her heart, she didn’t want to harbor such cold thoughts. On the surface, pursuing one’s own ideals and not interfering forcefully is a form of mutual respect. In truth, it’s a cruel drawing of boundaries.

“How does one let go?” Yishu got out of the back seat and closed the car door.

Xu Shixi pressed the electronic lock, and all four car lights flashed together. “Me? Are you talking about that matter?”

“Never mind,” Yishu said, not wanting to ask. Stirring up unnecessary trouble and drama was foolish.

Yishu forced a smile and walked toward the elevator. The lights in the underground garage were dim and yellow, heightening the eerie sense of dread on a cold night. Yishu walked ahead, shivering several times—not sure if from cold or fear.

Xu Shixi watched Yishu’s hesitation, combining it with the recent events, and formed a nearly complete answer in his mind. It could only be Tang Dai, no one else.

“When fate ends, letting go is inevitable, whether you want to or not.” Yishu, do you still not trust me? “But it’s different with family. Blood ties can’t be severed.”

“You’re right, family ties can’t be severed.” Yishu skipped over the first half and repeated the latter. By now, how could she not trust Shixi? To distrust him would be an insult, a vote against this hard-won affection. Destroying anything is always easier than building it.

“As long as we’re together, we’ll become family sooner or later.” Xu Shixi pulled Yishu close, expressing his intentions with action.

Perhaps the highest realm of love is family.

Soon, they were lost in sleep, dreams undisturbed by the stormy rain and wind outside.

When Yishu awoke the next morning, she saw the floor-to-ceiling window covered with a uniform layer of condensation, and the world outside was a white blur.

Opening the window, thick white mist poured in, like the cold air escaping from a refrigerator. In summer, it was a rare coolness; in winter, it was a harsh discomfort.

Yishu took a camel-colored wool coat from the rack, draped it over herself, opened the window again, and stepped onto the balcony. Looking into the distance, the world was engulfed in white, the mist’s ethereal beauty almost painful. Looking down, low plants were covered with a layer of crystalline frost.

November had arrived in the blink of an eye.

Tang Dai had been in the hospital for a month; today was her day of discharge.

Tang Chao had run between Shanghai and Yuncheng for his sister. Fortunately, his coursework was not demanding, leaving him plenty of free time.

During the latter half of her hospital stay, Tang Dai was alone in her room. Her only companions were the doctors, nurses, and a six-inch phone.

One night, reaching for the water cup on the bedside table, she accidentally knocked her phone to the floor, shattering the screen. Her only pastime—chatting and watching videos—was gone.

Tang Dai had pitifully few friends. During her hospital stay, only a group of colleagues from Xunyuan visited her once; no one else claiming to be her friend set foot in the ward.

Perhaps her friends were all in Shanghai and had no time to visit?

In truth, Tang Dai was quite philosophical about friendship. With her family background, most of her acquaintances were well-bred ladies from prominent families. Their conversations revolved around bags, clothes, jewelry, cosmetics, and men.

She always scoffed at such topics, unwilling to associate with them. In time, she became isolated. Yet some business elites gave her special attention. A few years ago, many sought her hand in marriage, but she turned them all away. In recent years, their numbers dwindled. Whether they lost confidence after setbacks or thought Tang Dai had grown too old was unclear. After all, few men are drawn to a woman who is both more capable and older than themselves.

What made Tang Dai feel lonely and desolate was Tang Jingguo’s indifference. Though she hadn’t told her father about her injury and hospitalization, he only ever addressed her in brief, whether regarding work reports or daily affairs. He always put his career first. So, whenever she triggered her body’s immune system, she could automatically dispel the negative emotions caused by Tang Jingguo.