Ke Bu stood outside the supermarket as people brushed past him. It was not until ten minutes later that Ding Luo Yuan hurried over with a bag in hand. Ke Bu almost did not recognize her. She wore no makeup, her cheeks had grown thinner, and her lips were faintly pale. The only thing unchanged was the smile at the corners of her mouth. She handed him the bag. “Sorry I’m late. These are your father’s things. It isn’t convenient for me to see him right now, so please give them to him for me.”
Ke Bu held the bag in his hand. He had used his parents’ guilt toward him to get what he wanted. He had succeeded in making Ding Luo Yuan experience the same pain he had suffered. Yet the cruel irony of this painful victory was that although he had hurt everyone around him, none of it had eased his grief. After a long silence, Ke Bu whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Silly child. Those three words were never what I wanted from you.” Ding Luo Yuan straightened Ke Bu’s collar and left. Ke Bu stared blankly in the direction she had gone. He had become lost in an invisible space where he was entirely alone—a space he had created for himself, yet now he could no longer find the way out.
Although he had continued trying to call Zhi Li over the past few days, Zhi Li’s phone remained switched off. Ke Bu could not understand his own behavior. No matter how Zhi Li treated him or what he said, the pain would remain trapped in that moment, only for Ke Bu to forget it soon afterward. Then his heart would once again ache desperately to draw closer to Zhi Li, as though it were necessary, as though it were only natural. He had never once considered the possibility of separation. Zhi Li was meant to be part of his life forever. He was part of Ke Bu’s life—part of Ke Bu himself.
Once again, Ke Bu took out his phone and dialed Zhi Li’s number out of habit. He had expected nothing, yet this time he heard the call connect. His hand trembled. He hid in a deserted corner and raised the phone to his ear. After the call was answered, neither of them spoke. Zhi Li’s breathing came through the receiver. Ke Bu gripped the phone tightly and crouched on the ground. He knew only that he wanted to speak to him, yet he had no idea what to say. He did not want to argue, nor did he want to hear Zhi Li’s indifferent voice. Yet some hopeless part of him thought that whether they argued or Zhi Li spoke to him coldly, none of it mattered—as long as Ke Bu could still feel his presence.
A long time passed, then longer still, before a soft yet unmistakably beautiful voice reached Ke Bu’s ears. “Ke Bu?” Hearing his own name spoken so clearly made Ke Bu’s heart clench. A thin mist clouded his eyes. His legs had begun to go numb from crouching, so he slid down the wall and sat on the ground, drawing up his knees and placing the bag between them.
“If I didn’t answer, would you keep calling my name like that?”
“If I kept calling your name, would you let go of your wish?” Zhi Li’s calm retort sent pain stabbing through Ke Bu.
Ke Bu raised his head and looked at the unremarkable sky. He remembered the two of them sitting on a bench at school, Zhi Li asleep with a book covering his face while Ke Bu had looked up at the sky just like this. The sky had seemed beautiful then. He could no longer tell whether the sky itself had changed, or whether it was his heart that changed whenever Zhi Li was beside him. Instead of answering, he continued, “Why is it that I’ve apologized to everyone, but no one is willing to accept it? You’re the same. So is Ding Luo Yuan.”
Zhi Li paused before slowly saying, “If you don’t believe you did anything wrong, why apologize?”
Zhi Li’s words gradually cleared the confusion in Ke Bu’s mind. Was that it? In truth, he had known all along that it was wrong. Somewhere along the way, his wish had gone astray, becoming ugly and twisted.
“You really aren’t afraid of hurting me with your words. If I willingly let go, I’m afraid I’ll cry my eyes out.”
“Then you have to cry.” Zhi Li gave Ke Bu only one path of retreat.
Ke Bu sat at one end of the dining table, with his parents at the other. This was the image of a family he had always longed for. Never had he wanted so desperately to deceive himself, yet the satisfaction and happiness he should have felt were nowhere to be found. He merely looked at the two people opposite him, at their stiff, false expressions, and remembered the faces they used to wear. A powerful feeling pierced through him, while a voice screamed itself hoarse inside his mind: Can you see clearly now? The people sitting opposite you aren’t strangers. They’re your parents. What exactly are you doing to them?
Heaven had given Ke Bu a chance to begin again only so he could understand that some things could never truly be redone. What had been lost was lost. Over the course of seven years, everything had changed beyond anyone’s control—even Ke Bu himself.
Wu Qian placed some food in Ke Bu’s bowl. “Eat more. You don’t look well. And you—say something as his father.”
“Yes,” Ke Qin agreed.
Wu Qian smiled. “Your father and I were discussing taking a family trip for a few days. What do you think? It’s been a long time since the three of us traveled together.”
Ke Bu clenched the edge of his trousers. “Mom, don’t smile when you don’t want to. Dad broke your heart, so don’t force yourself to love him again. If you’ve already forgotten the past, don’t make yourself remember it.”
Wu Qian and Ke Qin stared at him in surprise. “You silly child, what are you suddenly saying? What’s wrong?”
“Isn’t it true? When I’m not here, you don’t speak to each other. You can’t even stay in the same room anymore. Whatever feelings you had for each other disappeared long ago. The most torturous thing in the world is being miserable while pretending to be happy. What am I doing?” Ke Bu’s voice grew quieter and quieter, as though he were speaking only to himself.
“We’re simply not used to suddenly living together again. We’ll adjust with time. Don’t overthink it,” Ke Qin said.
Ke Bu shook his head desperately. “I’m begging you—please stop doing this. Don’t feel guilty toward me. Neither of you has ever owed me anything. I admit that I met Zhi Li that summer because of what happened between you, but you weren’t the ones who made me fall in love with him. That was my own choice. I never meant to take revenge on you or punish you. Even if you had never divorced, I still would have met Zhi Li, and I still would have fallen in love with him. No matter how life changed or how my surroundings shifted, I would eventually have met him. I would eventually have fallen in love with him.”
“You…” Wu Qian found herself unable to say anything.
“I’m not asking you to approve of Zhi Li and me anymore. I’m declaring that this broken family should finally be allowed to fall apart.”
Within those shattered fragments, Ke Bu saw himself.
He saw his wish.
“Even if you can think of it that way, you should understand that we still won’t approve of your relationship.”
“I understand.” A radiant smile suddenly appeared on Ke Bu’s composed face as he looked at the two parents he had personally freed from their restraints. “Making this choice is my responsibility. What happens after I make it is his. So from here on, I’ll leave it to him.”
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