Psst! We're moving!
Zhu Xingyao sat silently on the bed. She felt that Jiang Tu hadn’t been fooled by her, and Xiao Kui approached anxiously. “Xingyao, did I say something wrong?”
“You didn’t say anything wrong. I just didn’t want Tu Ge to know about my medication. You don’t need to blame yourself.” Zhu Xingyao stood up and patted Xiao Kui’s head gently. “Let’s finish unpacking and get ready for dinner. The flight was tiring. We’ll rest early because we have to meet with the orchestra tomorrow morning.”
Xiao Kui couldn’t help but ask, “Why can’t Mr. Jiang know?”
“Because if he knows, he’ll be very upset,” Zhu Xingyao replied.
After dinner, Zhu Xingyao sent a WeChat message to Jiang Tu. She waited for a long time but received no reply. Exhausted from the十几个-hour flight and the effects of the medication, she succumbed to drowsiness and fell into a restless sleep.
A few hours later, she was jolted awake by another nightmare.
Outside, the sky was still dark. She picked up her phone, but there was still no response from Jiang Tu.
It was four o’clock in the morning back in China. Jiang Tu stepped out of the Zhu family home, the biting cold wind stinging his eyes. The pain spread through every bone in his body, seeping into his muscles and tendons. Every movement felt excruciating.
He opened the car door and got in.
Zhu Yunping stood by the window, sighing deeply. After waiting for a long while, he finally saw the headlights turn on and heard the car drive away.
At six o’clock in the morning, the sky was still as dark as midnight. The yellow glow of the streetlights on the tarmac illuminated the area dimly. Jiang Tu sat in his economy-class seat, his long legs cramped and unable to stretch out. He felt numb, barely listening to the flight attendant’s announcements.
He removed his glasses and gazed out the window. Faint lights blinked on and off in the dark sky—lights from the plane’s wings. As the plane descended, those lights seemed to plummet straight to the ground. Jiang Tu thought back to the time Zhu Xingyao had been hospitalized after getting injured. He remembered how, in his darkest moments, he had once imagined her falling from the sky so he could be closer to her. But ultimately, he restrained himself, too afraid to even respond to her messages, slowly distancing himself—
But what he didn’t know, in a past he couldn’t see,
was that Xingyao had already fallen because of him.
Jiang Tu looked at his reflection in the airplane window. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot.
He felt as though he had returned to his teenage years, consumed by self-loathing and despair.
For a long while,
the plane took off.
Jiang Tu slowly averted his gaze. He wasn’t eighteen anymore.
No matter how much he hated himself, he wouldn’t take another step backward.
________________________________________
By evening, the temperature in Dubai was still warm. Zhu Xingyao, carrying her cello, returned to the hotel with the other members of the orchestra. She stared at her phone; the WeChat message she had sent to Jiang Tu the night before remained unanswered. At noon, she had tried calling him using Xiao Jiang, but all she received were automatic replies from the robot assistant.
For example:
“Be good. It’s already noon. Eat properly.”
“I might be in a meeting right now. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“Wait a little longer. I’ll be quick.”
“Maybe I’m really busy. Wait a little longer. Sorry, Xingyao.”
“Wait…”
How long was she supposed to wait?
Zhu Xingyao felt an uneasy premonition. She suspected that Jiang Tu might already know. Panic gripped her heart, and she quickly called Zhu Yunping. Suddenly, she was afraid—afraid that Jiang Tu would react like he did during the college entrance exam, cutting off contact and ignoring her after learning the truth.
The phone connected, and Zhu Xingyao anxiously asked, “Dad… has Jiang Tu contacted you?”
“Ah! Xingyao, look over there!”
Suddenly, Xiao Kui grabbed her hand and pointed toward the hotel entrance.
Xiao Kui was so excited she could barely speak. “I-I-I think I might be seeing things! Mr. Jiang!”
Zhu Xingyao abruptly looked up. Through the bustling crowd of pedestrians in this foreign land, she saw Jiang Tu’s tall and slender figure from about ten meters away. He wore a crumpled black sweater, his coat draped over his arm. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses rested on his nose, and his chin was shadowed with stubble.
He looked disheveled yet determined, as if he had traveled a great distance.
Zhu Xingyao froze, tears streaming down her face unexpectedly.
On the phone, Zhu Yunping clearly heard Xiao Kui’s voice. He asked in astonishment, “He went to see you?”
“Yeah, Dad. Jiang Tu came to see me,” Zhu Xingyao said, her voice trembling with emotion.
He must have found out everything.
Zhu Xingyao hung up the phone and ran toward him, her cello strapped to her back. Jiang Tu walked a few steps forward, opening his arms wide to embrace her tightly as she collided into him. Zhu Xingyao tilted her head up, her red-rimmed eyes meeting his. He looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot.
Her voice quivered. “Why are you here? You didn’t even tell me…”
Jiang Tu buried his nose in her hair, taking a deep breath. His voice was hoarse. “I didn’t know what to say. I just wanted to see you as soon as possible.”
Zhu Xingyao had never imagined seeing him suddenly in a foreign country.
The overwhelming feelings of gratitude and excitement overshadowed her earlier unease.
Passersby stopped to watch them.
The orchestra members were curious too. Someone teased Xiao Kui in English, “Is that Xingyao’s boyfriend?”
Xiao Kui’s English wasn’t great, but she was ecstatic. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
She shouted five “yeses” in a row!
Everyone burst into laughter.
Hearing the commotion behind her, Zhu Xingyao remembered the orchestra members were still there. She turned around, holding Jiang Tu’s hand, and cheerfully introduced him. “This is my boyfriend. I won’t be able to join everyone for dinner tonight—I’m spending it with him.”
Her English was fluent, her voice cheerful and melodious.
Jiang Tu suppressed the surging emotions in his chest and raised his gaze. “Thank you all for taking care of her.”
________________________________________
As soon as they entered the room,
Zhu Xingyao turned and hugged Jiang Tu tightly. Standing on her tiptoes, she leaned in to kiss him. Jiang Tu gently held her waist, tilting his chin slightly so her lips landed on his jaw. His throat tightened as he looked down at her, his voice low. “Xingyao, I… smell like smoke. I’ve been on an economy-class flight for over ten hours, and I haven’t shaved. I don’t want to kiss you like this.”
“It doesn’t smell bad,” Zhu Xingyao insisted, clinging tightly to his neck and burying her face in his collar. The scent of smoke was strong—stronger than she’d ever smelled on him before. After smoking, he rarely kissed her, as he always paid attention to such details.
She nuzzled her cheek against his collar, whispering softly, “I don’t mind.”
Jiang Tu clenched his jaw. He lowered his head into the crook of her neck, his warm breath brushing against her delicate skin. With restraint, he placed gentle kisses along her neck. When his stubble grazed her skin, it tickled, sending fine shivers through her body. She trembled, softly calling out, “Tu Ge…”
“Hmm?”
Jiang Tu lifted his head, looking down at her.
Zhu Xingyao removed his glasses and gazed into his eyes. “Do you already know everything?”
Jiang Tu remained silent, his emotions swirling in his eyes. Finally, he responded, “Yeah.”
Zhu Xingyao bit her lip, unsure of what to say next. Lowering her lashes, she glanced toward the bathroom and muttered, “I’ll get your toiletries first. You really do smell. Later, I’ll have Xiao Tian buy you some clothes. How could you come without bringing anything…?”
She pushed him into the bathroom, her tone firm and unyielding.
Jiang Tu rarely saw her act this way. Lowering his head, he smiled.
Zhu Xingyao had Xiao Tian purchase a set of clothes for Jiang Tu based on his height and measurements. In a hurry, Xiao Tian returned with two sets of black sportswear and, thoughtfully, a razor.
Half an hour later,
Jiang Tu emerged freshly shaven and dressed in clean, comfortable clothing. From behind, he wrapped his arms around Zhu Xingyao, who stood by the window engrossed in her phone.
In the past half hour, Zhu Xingyao had managed to compose herself, but she still didn’t know where to begin or how to explain. Jiang Tu lifted her into his arms and sat her on his lap. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he asked softly, “You didn’t send me any more messages on QQ after 2014 and 2015, right?”
After Jiang Tu left for abroad, his QQ account hadn’t synced with his new location. Back then, he assumed she was still with Lu Ji and hadn’t logged in for a long time. He wasn’t sure if he had missed any messages.
Zhu Xingyao shook her head, her voice tinged with grievance. “No, you weren’t responding to me. What was I supposed to send?”
Jiang Tu fell silent, taking a deep breath. He asked, “What was the last message?”
The last message…
In August 2013, she had been in Berlin, waking up from a nightmare in the middle of the night.
She had sent him a single line: “Tu Ge, can you please respond to me?”
From that point on, silence.
Even one-sided communication had ceased.
Jiang Tu’s breathing grew heavier against her ear. Zhu Xingyao knew he was trying to restrain his emotions. He asked, “Did you go to my mom’s rental house in the suburbs to look for me?”
“Yes, that day…” Zhu Xingyao figured Zhu Yunping must have told him everything. Her delicate fingers intertwined nervously as she turned to look at him. “It was already dark, and I didn’t know the way well. I wandered around for a long time but couldn’t find your house… Later, I overheard an aunt talking to your mom about you, asking why you weren’t coming home for the New Year again…”
“Did you see my mom?” Jiang Tu asked, looking at her.
“I did. She even said something to me.” Zhu Xingyao lowered her lashes, puffing out her cheeks before sighing. “That day, I looked so terrible that your mom didn’t recognize me. She didn’t remember me either.”
“You weren’t ugly.”
Jiang Tu pulled her close, almost fiercely kissing her. Over the past twenty hours, the feelings of heartache, guilt, and self-loathing had built up to their peak. He nibbled on her lips, pouring all his emotions into the kiss.
Zhu Xingyao felt as though she couldn’t breathe, whimpering softly.
It still wasn’t enough.
Jiang Tu closed his eyes briefly, moving his lips to her ear. His voice trembled. “Xingyao, I love you.”