CITM - 37

After Wenbin returned, he rarely went out. Under normal circumstances, Tong Mingfang stayed at home, and the front door was left unlocked for convenience. No one had thought to get Wenbin a key.

It was Bai Wenfu who remembered. He had taken the time over the past few days to have a new key made for Wenbin. During breakfast that morning, he casually handed it to him.

After receiving the key, Wenbin weighed it in his hand and asked: “When did you change the lock?”

“A while ago,” Bai Wenfu replied.

Wenbin looked down at the key in his hand and asked again: “Was there something wrong with the old lock?”

“It was hard to open, so I decided to replace it.”

“Why didn’t you just fix it instead of replacing it?” Wenbin’s tone carried a hint of aggression.

Ye Yun’s hand holding her spoon paused momentarily.

Tong Mingfang raised her head and glanced at her second son, finding his behavior odd. In the past, Wenbin wouldn’t have questioned such trivial matters. Given his personality, if his older brother handed him a key, he would simply take it without further ado. Yet here he was, obsessing over an old lock, which was highly unusual.

Bai Wenfu pushed his bowl aside, his gaze sharp and direct: “It’s not about waiting for it to break before replacing it. If something isn’t suitable, it’s better to change it early for everyone’s sake. Do we really need to wait until one day the whole family is locked outside before considering a replacement?”

Wenbin’s eyelids drooped as he clenched the new key tightly in his hand.

Seeing her two sons spend half the morning discussing a lock, Tong Mingfang interjected: “It was my idea to have your brother replace it. Every time we came back, opening the door took forever, and it hurt my hands.”

Ye Yun set down her spoon and said: “I’m leaving.”

Just as she reached the door, she heard Bai Wenfu call out: “Xiao Yun.”

Ye Yun’s body swayed slightly as she turned around.

Bai Wenfu tilted his chin upward, reminding her: “Your coat.”

Flustered, Ye Yun turned back. Wenbin stood up and retrieved the coat hanging nearby. As Ye Yun approached to take it, Wenbin moved behind her to help her put it on.

Afraid to look into Bai Wenfu’s eyes, Ye Yun quickly slipped her arms into the sleeves and said: “I’m leaving.”

Wenbin reminded her: “Be careful.”

Tong Mingfang silently glanced at Bai Wenfu. His dark eyes were unreadable, but he remained silent, observing the scene.

Since returning late, Ye Yun spent less time at home. She threw herself even more into her work, ignoring others’ strange looks and the malicious gossip.

The weather grew colder. After returning home and finishing dinner, she would retire to her room early. Each day was fulfilling, yet every moment left her nerves taut.

That night, after retiring to her room, she realized she had left the clothes she’d brought in earlier outside. Tong Mingfang was already asleep, so she got up to retrieve them.

The living room was pitch black, with moonlight filtering through the doorway. She turned her head and saw the front door wide open. The two brothers were leaning against the corridor, talking.

Wenbin asked Bai Wenfu for a cigarette. Before going overseas, this same scene had unfolded—he had asked for a cigarette and entrusted his family to his older brother.

Nearly two years had passed, and so much had changed. Things were no longer the same.

Wenbin took a deep drag on the cigarette, then coughed violently. Bai Wenfu reached out and patted his back.

Wenbin chuckled: “I’m fine.”

After catching his breath, he tried another puff, lifting his head to exhale the wispy smoke into the vast darkness. His prominent nose was illuminated by the light and shadow, exuding stubbornness and resilience. His once lively eyes now bore a heavy fog.

“Do you remember the day before you and Mom went to Qingxi Village to fetch Xiao Yun?”

Bai Wenfu watched the wisp of smoke curling from his fingers and grunted softly.

“You asked me what I was doing awake in the middle of the night, making a fuss.” Wenbin lowered his head, tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t laugh at me, but I was so excited about bringing home a wife that I couldn’t sleep.”

“The first time I saw Ye Yun, I knew she was the one. After bringing her home, just looking at her made me happy. My colleagues all said I was lucky, and I strutted around proudly every day. How could I not be proud? She’s beautiful, has a good temperament, and she waits for me to come home every day. Life felt hopeful. I admit, vanity played a part—I didn’t fully consider her feelings in many ways. I just thought having a beautiful wife would bring me face.”

Wenbin paused, bitterness spilling from the corners of his mouth: “Don’t blame me for thinking this way. Before you returned, you probably understood how Mom and I lived.”

Bai Wenfu clenched the cigarette between his teeth, inhaling deeply. The smoke swirled around him, blurring his figure.

“Lei Zi is the same age as me, and his child is already running around. I had just found a wife. Big Brother, I’m not blaming you—I know you’ve suffered too—but I’d finally started living a normal life.

I thought it would only be a few months—just a blink of an eye—and then I’d be back. But once I was out at sea, I realized how hard it was to be away from her. A few months felt like years.

Just one week after leaving home, I dreamed of her. When I woke up, all I could see was the endless ocean. I missed her so much that I cried. Out there at sea, I thought about her every single day. Whenever I saw or experienced something new, I wanted to write it down in a notebook so I could tell her about it when I returned.

I’m not afraid to admit this—you can laugh if you want—but lying next to someone every night, being able to touch them, and then suddenly not even being able to see them… it felt like my soul had been ripped away. I wanted nothing more than to rush home immediately.”

Bai Wenfu’s eyes grew heavy with emotion. How could he not understand this feeling? It was soul-shattering, and he had experienced it even more intensely.

“In truth, when I found out I was sick, I thought I might not survive. I wasn’t worried about Mom—she has you, and I knew you’d take care of her. But Xiao Yun… she’s so pitiful. I hadn’t made any arrangements for her. How would she live her life without me? I’ve never wronged anyone in my life, but I couldn’t shake the guilt of failing her. Even in death, I’d burden her, and I wouldn’t be able to rest in peace.

I couldn’t let go of her. When I lay there, I kept picturing her face. The thought of coming back alive and seeing her again… that’s what got me through each day…”

Ye Yun pressed herself tightly against the wall, tears welling up in her eyes. Her racing heart felt trapped, growing heavier and heavier, pounding painfully in her chest.

“Do you know what Xiao Yun means to me?”

“She is my life!”

Bai Wenfu’s fingers trembled slightly, scattering ash everywhere. The moon sank low, and stars dimmed.

If it weren’t for Wenbin’s condition, Bai Wenfu might have confronted him soon after his return, laying everything bare. Even after learning that Wenbin’s mental state couldn’t handle stress, Bai Wenfu had been gradually revealing hints, trying to ease him into acceptance.

After all, Wenbin hadn’t spent much time with Ye Yun before leaving. Their relationship, some might think, shouldn’t have been particularly deep.

But everyone overlooked one crucial point: unrequited love, longing without sight, yearning without words, loss without resignation—when these emotions are forged into a bone-deep obsession during life-and-death trials, they become a terrifying inner demon.

Ye Yun couldn’t sleep after returning to her room. The glimmer of hope she thought was near was utterly extinguished by Wenbin’s words. She imagined herself in his shoes—if it were her beloved younger sister asking for something dear to her heart, could she relinquish it? Just the thought sent sharp pain slicing through her heart. If she felt this way merely imagining it, how much worse must Bai Wenfu feel? What could he possibly do?

Her breathing became erratic, as though she were falling into a bottomless black hole, her body sinking endlessly. She didn’t know where she’d land or what would consume her. Her heart trembled violently, her mind overwhelmed with chaos.

Tong Mingfang seemed to sense her unease, turning over in bed and asking: “Still awake?”

Ye Yun softly hummed in response, sitting up: “Going to the bathroom.”

It was late at night. Wenbin had already retired to his room, leaving Bai Wenfu alone, still leaning against the corridor, unmoving for a long while.

Ye Yun stepped out of the door, stopping behind him. He turned his head upon sensing movement, his gaze traveling from her furrowed brows to her helpless eyes, then to her slightly reddened nose.

His inscrutable gaze lingered on her face for a moment, his expression complex.

“You heard?”

Ye Yun lowered her eyes and nodded faintly.

He reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling her into his embrace.

The open corridor, the wide-open front door—his recklessness made Ye Yun struggle.

Fear gripped her, and she whispered: “Let go, quickly.”

Bai Wenfu did release her—but not her hand. In the corridor, Ye Yun continued to struggle in panic. But once inside the house, she dared not make a sound, her heart leaping into her throat, her breath held tight.

Bai Wenfu opened his bedroom door, striding in with large steps, his grip on her unwavering. Cold sweat poured down Ye Yun’s back as she clung desperately to the doorframe, her eyes wide with terror.

The night wind picked up, bringing a chill. Bai Wenfu tilted his neck, the wickedness in his eyes burning brighter, like an arsonist who cared for nothing but destruction. He had no intention of letting go, even if the neighboring door opened at that moment.

Under his piercing gaze, Ye Yun relented, unable to endure the standoff any longer. On tiptoes, she stepped into the room.

After closing the door, Bai Wenfu lifted her onto the bed. He crouched down to remove her shoes, while Ye Yun clutched the sheets tightly, too frightened to breathe.

Bai Wenfu glanced up at her pale face, shaking his head slightly to assure her that he wouldn’t do anything.

After lying down, he pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her soft hair, inhaling her sweet scent deeply into his lungs.

Ye Yun’s heartbeat raced. Her hand rested lightly on Bai Wenfu’s waist, too scared to move. Her eyes were wide open, terrified of making even the slightest sound.

Bai Wenfu lowered his head, lifting her small face and giving her a faint smile. His eyes overflowed with tender affection, gradually calming her restless heart.

She knew tonight must have torn him apart. And yet, he was still comforting her, forcing a smile despite his pain.

Tears pooled in Ye Yun’s eyes as she burrowed into his embrace, silently crying.

He smoothed her hair again and again until she fell asleep. His warmth enveloped her, finally bringing peace to this turbulent night.

Bai Wenfu gazed down at her serene sleeping face, unable to fall asleep himself.

Before dawn, Ye Yun slipped quietly back into Tong Mingfang’s room. As soon as she moved, Bai Wenfu opened his eyes, watching her leave.

Seeing that Tong Mingfang was still asleep, Ye Yun slipped silently under the covers.

Bai Wenfu woke early in the morning, riding out to buy sesame pancakes, fried dough rings, and soybean porridge.

Before entering the house, he was stopped in the corridor by Tong Mingfang, who anxiously asked: “Last night, did she...?”

“Yes,” Bai Wenfu answered before she could finish her sentence.

Tong Mingfang pinched his arm fiercely: “Are you trying to give your old mother a heart attack? Do you want to scare me to death?”

Bai Wenfu gritted his teeth against the pain, his lips curling slightly: “Aren’t you fine?”

With that, he walked straight into the house.

Tong Mingfang patted her chest, calming her fragile heart. Ye Yun had said she was going to the bathroom but hadn’t returned all night, leaving Tong Mingfang on edge. Knowing how cautious Ye Yun was, she could easily imagine that only the eldest son would dare such reckless behavior. But she couldn’t confront him in the middle of the night, so she endured the anxiety until dawn, finally feeling relieved when Ye Yun returned.

For Tong Mingfang, both sons were equally precious. She pitied her second son, but she also understood her eldest son’s feelings. To this day, she still didn’t fully grasp what the string of English words from Wenbin’s unit leader meant, nor did she comprehend what neurasthenia was. But she felt that she might soon develop the same condition herself.