Chapter 67: The Growing Divide

“Stranger.”

…How fatal a word.

Perhaps the world was inherently ironic. She had worked so hard, earning money to secure her hold on him, yet it was precisely this choice that made him feel she had become unrecognizable.

—How could this happen?

Isn’t it said that as long as you work hard, there will be rewards?

She had worked hard.

…So very hard.

The outcome, of course, was an unpleasant parting.

She ended the conversation after he asked that final question, breaking down completely. All the bitterness in her heart threatened to spill out as tears. Before she could lose all composure, she abruptly stood up and ran out of the house. He seemed to chase after her, even grabbing her wrist at one point, but she shook him off with surprising decisiveness.

Then she bought a ticket home.

Without telling him or letting him see her off, she dragged her suitcase onto the train alone, amidst the gloomy winter weather. The summer fields had turned into a barren winter wasteland; the same scenery now looked starkly different. She felt an unprecedented sense of loneliness and sorrow. When she was alone, tears flowed uncontrollably. She hid her face behind a large scarf, like an ostrich burying its head, silently crying within its folds.

—She already knew.

She… was losing him.

After returning home, she had to adjust her state.

Her parents hadn’t seen her in a year and were overjoyed to have their daughter back. Her mother scrutinized her from head to toe, convinced she had lost weight and looked worn out. Repeatedly worried, she asked if anything was wrong. Yin Mengxi’s responses were always the same—”Nothing,” “I’m fine,” “Just busy with work.”

Perhaps one aspect of maturity was learning to conceal. She hid her sadness and grievances well. Though not yet fully immersed in society, she had already learned to report only good news and hide the bad. She didn’t mention failing the course, merely hinting to her parents about wanting to enter the workforce directly, repeatedly emphasizing how great her current job was and how promising her future prospects were.

“Not pursuing graduate studies?” Her parents’ disapproval mirrored Xiao Zhi’s, their concerned tones identical. “A guaranteed spot in graduate school is such a good opportunity… Are you really giving it up?”

“Study a bit more. A master’s degree is surely better than a bachelor’s, right? Isn’t the starting salary higher?”

“Nowadays, most people have advanced degrees. How can you get by without at least a master’s?”

And so on.

What could Yin Mengxi do? Only she knew how dire her situation was. Direct employment was her only viable path; she had no other options.

“Let’s talk about it later…” So she evaded the issue, essentially postponing the conflict. “I’ll continue working for a while…”

Next came the routine of celebrating the New Year.

Relatives came and went, visiting the house. When Auntie arrived, she engaged in another round of verbal sparring with Yin’s mother. Unable to change the fact that her niece’s academic achievements and job were overshadowed by Yin Mengxi’s, Auntie shifted the focus to romance, boasting about how wonderful her daughter’s boyfriend was—handsome, caring, from a family that owned restaurants with three chain locations in the city, earning a substantial income annually.

Yin’s mother appeared indifferent on the surface, but once the visitors left, she resumed pressuring her daughter to focus on finding a partner. Yin Mengxi listened silently, visions of Xiao Zhi flashing repeatedly in her mind. Each time she thought of him, her heart tore open anew, the raw wounds festering.

He had contacted her multiple times.

At first, he invited her to meet, apologizing in his messages, saying his attitude that day was poor and asking for her forgiveness. But how could that be true? He had been patient and kind to her—it was she who had lashed out, ostensibly at him but truly at herself.

Later, he learned she had returned home, likely inquiring at her dormitory building. He then asked if she had arrived safely and when she planned to return to school. She didn’t reply. At first glance, it might seem like stubbornness or a tantrum, but only she knew it stemmed from fear and helplessness.

…She was afraid to see him, especially the way he looked at her—as if she were a stranger. For her, it was a devastating blow, as if she had been wholly negated from head to toe, inside out. What came after estrangement? Going through the motions, pretending everything was fine? And then what? Breaking up?

…She didn’t want to hear him say those two words.

On New Year’s Eve, she still went out with the children in the family to set off firecrackers.

As midnight approached, she stared at her phone incessantly, opening his QQ chat window at least a hundred times, only to retreat just as many. One minute past midnight, her screen lit up—it was a new message from him:

He: Happy New Year.

He: Can we meet?

…How faithful he was.

Last year, he promised her he would wait an extra minute for her to send her New Year’s greetings first. She never sent them, yet he still honored his promise. Now he was suggesting they meet. Overwhelmed with shame, she cried silently amidst the crackling fireworks. Fortunately, the noise masked her sobs, granting her rare freedom.

—She had to reply.

They needed closure.

She: Happy New Year.

She: I’ll probably return on the eighth.

Too late. By rights, he should have returned to the U.S. before the New Year to resume classes, yet he chose to stay in the country to wait for her. His response was simple: “Okay.”

On the eighth, he was at the station to pick her up. However, their interaction regressed to their initial awkward state—no embrace, no kiss, the stifling atmosphere unbearable. Both felt it but pretended nothing was amiss. He carried her suitcase and accompanied her back to campus, where they strolled through the deserted grounds.

“My approach was flawed before…”

He spoke first, each word a clear concession.

“…I deeply respect your personal choices. If you don’t wish to pursue academia or remain in school, I won’t force you. Entering the workforce directly is also a commendable choice, and I will support you.”

What more could he concede?

He had already retreated to his baseline.

Yet she felt no sense of “victory.” Perhaps because what she wanted wasn’t to triumph over him but to earn more of his love. But how could she undo the ugly, grasping image she had shown during their argument? How could she restore his original impression of her?

“…Thank you,” she had no choice but to follow his lead. “My approach was also flawed.”

Both apologized.

Both sincerely.

Yet the awkward, rigid feeling lingered.

He fell silent too, likely equally aware of how precarious their situation was. Their relationship teetered on a fragile boundary, ready to collapse with the slightest breeze.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” inevitably, a hurricane had to descend. The ocean’s distance would widen the existing fissure. “…to the school there.”

She stiffened, the intuitive sadness intensifying. Somehow, she managed not to cry, simply nodding faintly.

“…Okay,” her voice was low, no longer resembling the clinging little rabbit she once was. “Safe travels.”

He didn’t know what to say next. The difficulty of a first love lay in its opacity. At that young age, he hadn’t understood the root cause of their conflict, so he wandered aimlessly at the edge of the rift.

“Xiao Xi…”

He sighed again. In truth, he still loved her as much as before, but the strange sense of estrangement remained dormant in his heart. Still, he embraced her, though both bodies felt a subtle stiffness.

“In a few months, I’ll be back…” he murmured softly near her ear, unsure whether he spoke for her benefit or his own. “…nothing will change.”

“Let’s use this time to reflect, okay?”

Reflect?

On what?

On whether they were truly compatible?

On whether they should continue together?

She didn’t fully understand. Her instinctive sadness surfaced further. Her voice was calm when she said “okay,” but beneath the surface, her heart was collapsing into chaos.

…And so they parted again.

He went to the U.S., and she stayed behind. She considered compromising, preparing for graduate school, but the station continued offering her work opportunities. Deputy Director He appreciated her and even privately shared a meal with her. In the end, she couldn’t let go of such a good opportunity and chose to continue interning, without explicitly informing him.

—Was this decision the final straw that led to their breakup?

Perhaps, or perhaps not.

Pursuing graduate studies might have brought a few more years of calm, but her deep-rooted insecurity and inferiority couldn’t be easily erased. Material success, though vulgar, sometimes provided the most tangible sense of security. Only by holding onto it did she feel grounded. Perhaps this was the natural paradox between them—choosing A meant forsaking B, gaining X required abandoning Y.

A new cycle of work began, and she was as busy as ever, her feet barely touching the ground. Everything seemed unchanged, except their communication dwindled. Before calling him, she hesitated repeatedly, and nine times out of ten, she decided against it. Eventually, only his calls reached her, and more than half the time, she was too busy to answer. At its worst, they exchanged only two sentences in a week, a message crossing the ocean taking weeks for a reply.

In some ways, this was for the best. She had developed a psychological barrier to contacting him, constantly speculating how he viewed her. Knowing she had chosen to continue interning, would he find her even more estranged, even more objectionable? Negativity bred suppression, suppression bred pain, and after finishing a call with him, her state would deteriorate for the entire day. Physiological tears flowed uncontrollably, and the moment the call ended, she would sob until breathless.

…It seemed she was ill.

From excessive fatigue, from overwhelming loneliness.

No one noticed—except her roommate, who occasionally heard her crying in bed late at night. Everyone was alarmed, turning on the lights in the middle of the night to ask what was wrong. They found her eyes swollen like walnuts, her hands thin and veiny from wiping away tears.