Winter arrived, frost bit hard, and the heating came on indoors. All living things in the snow-covered world temporarily lowered their banners, withering or sleeping as they waited for the coming year to seize new life and show their strength again.
The wealthy circles of Yandu and Jinmen underwent a sweeping reshuffle. Jian Mingxun and Liang Tong, once super-rich men worth tens of billions, both ended up behind bars.
Jian Mingxun finally benefited for the first time in his life from his poor health and paralysis. Not long after being imprisoned, he was released on medical parole and transferred to a hospital. But his glory was gone, and the Jian family would never again rebuild its former empire at Linwan Port.
Chairman Liang Tong, on the other hand, was unlucky precisely because his health was too good. Even inside Yandu Prison, he kept jogging and exercising every day during recreation time. With a body that sturdy and fit, he looked ready to serve every last day of his sentence.
As for who ultimately won when the Liang and Jian businesses were repeatedly carved up and absorbed in the commercial battles that followed, that was harder to say. Rumor had it that Hanhai Group somehow seemed to know quite a bit of inside information in advance and struck at just the right moments, scooping up a piece here and another there… Under the direction of a certain overseas-trained business elite, Hanhai quietly made a fortune, then withdrew in triumph and rebranded under a new name.
On the surface, Linwan’s local circles remained calm. Beneath that surface, the aftershocks of the storm still rippled.
Lu Yilun, the satellite network’s star host and golden emcee, resigned.
Word was that he had gone to the United States to study. Many people in the industry could not understand it. Lu was young and still at the height of his popularity. Taking time off now for so-called further study seemed wildly impractical. By the time he came back two years later, the industry might already have replaced an entire generation. Who would still have room for yesterday’s star?
Lu Yilun left decisively. Once he reached the United States, he disappeared from beneath the eyes of reporters and paparazzi and was not seen again.
Some claimed he later went to Britain, others that he went to Switzerland. In any case, he made one circuit through the public gossip mill and then vanished into uncertainty. It seemed he had deliberately chosen to leave public view completely and had no plans to return.
Another person who left for Europe around the same time was Bei Jiahong, the star player of Guangzhou Hengzhong Club.
During the club’s winter transfer window, Bei Jiahong firmly chose to move abroad. He was willing to take a lower salary and did not care much about the transfer fee, ultimately joining a second-tier club in Spain’s top division.
Football commentators generally thought it was a smart decision. His new club was nowhere near the level of giants like Real Madrid or Barcelona, and the salary could not compare with the lavish spending of domestic tycoons with more money than sense. But at a smaller club he would have more chances to play instead of sitting on the bench. At twenty-five, Bei Jiahong was still in his prime, and he ought to do well in Europe. They thought someone highly capable must have been advising him behind the scenes.
Very few people knew the truth, and those who did silently agreed not to say a word.
Of course, the people who truly knew what had happened did not need to read online gossip. Lu Yilun had unquestionably followed Bei Jiahong to Spain.
Some time later, the real insiders, Bureau Chief Bao, Captain Xue, Deputy Captain Fang, Mr. Yan, Ling He, and the others, each received several photographs mailed from Spain.
Both men in the photographs were shown from behind, discreetly keeping their faces out of view, but anyone who knew them could recognize them at a glance.
At a beach wedding in Spain, white petals drifted through the blue sky above the sea. One man wore a pure black suit, the other white. They walked hand in hand, finally at peace in this life.
The two of them were married.
……
The privately mailed wedding photographs from Bei Jiahong and Lu Yilun apparently struck a sensitive nerve in one particular man. Faced with what felt like a missing piece in his own life, he could no longer bear to wait.
Captain Xue had rendered distinguished service in solving the case and had already been promoted, awarded a higher police rank, and formally commended. Several months later, after repeated pleading and bargaining, he finally managed to wring two weeks of leave out of his superiors, specifically so he could travel abroad.
Getting his passport back was not easy and required approval and signatures from his supervising leadership. Once Captain Xue finally had it in hand, he bought a ticket, packed a small carry-on bag, and hurried lightly toward the United States.
People inside the police system had their channels, so Liang Youhui was not hard to trace. Xue asked colleagues to check Liang’s movements after leaving the country. Liang Youhui had first gone to Singapore, perhaps because he could not even make enough there to feed himself, and later made his way to the west coast of the United States.
A starving camel was still bigger than a horse. Even after the Liang family lost its former splendor, so long as Young Master Liang stopped living extravagantly, learned to economize, and found ways to earn money, he could still live better than an ordinary white-collar worker. At the very least, several properties in Yandu and on the American west coast had escaped complete confiscation.
Back in northern Yandu, snow still fell over a frozen city. Southern California was another world entirely, all sunlight, coastline, birdsong, and flowers, a place perfectly suited to romance.
Santa Monica, a tourist destination on the Pacific coast, lay not far from Los Angeles and Hollywood. Visitors from all over the world filled the area. Wide-brimmed vacation hats, brightly colored shorts, and blazing red dresses turned the beach into something resembling paradise.
And where there were tourists, there were plenty of opportunities for small businesses.
The local Chinese community was sizable as well. Many elderly residents emerged from the breakfast market carrying large bags of takeaway food.
The food market was a jumble of street snacks from all over the world. Recently, the hottest business there was said to be a food truck run by Chinese international students selling jianbing. The truck itself was painted a vivid red and proudly occupied one corner of the market. The line outside its serving window curved like a long snake all the way toward the beach.
The truck operated every day from early morning until two in the afternoon. Business was so good that the young students hired to run it could barely keep up. They called the owner for reinforcements. “Brother Hui, the line is way too long! Come help us make jianbing!”
Liang Youhui wore a Hawaiian-style triangular headscarf patterned with birds of paradise, along with a tank top and long shorts. He blended into the local scene so naturally that he looked like a Chinese American who had grown up there, casually flirting and bantering in fluent spoken English with people as he walked.
Liang Youhui reached the back of the food truck, picked up a large sheet of crisp fried cracker and immediately began eating his own inventory.
The student inside spotted him and craned his neck out. “Brother Hui, what are you eating? Come make pancakes!”
Crumbs clung to Liang Youhui’s mouth. “Yeah, let me eat first. I’m starving. I got up late and haven’t had breakfast.”
The student pointed a spatula at him. “Bro, stop fucking eating! You’re going to eat everything. Hurry up!”
Liang Youhui wiped his fingers and climbed into the truck. Over the past few months he had learned many new things, things that once would have been unimaginable to him, such as working for a boss and reading the room, washing dishes in restaurants, and even standing on the street hawking jianbing.
Who could ever have imagined it? No one would have believed that Chairman Liang Tong’s eldest son would end up selling jianbing on an American street.
Liang Youhui had become fairly skilled at it. He could make one quickly now. If he were clumsy, customers would complain.
“Crispy cracker or fried dough stick?”
“Spicy or not?”
“Cilantro?… You don’t want cilantro?… I’m telling you, cilantro is the best part! Jianbing without cilantro is like dumplings without vinegar, or plain rice without Lao Gan Ma chili crisp. It just isn’t authentic!”
“Only one egg? Come on, buddy, make it two. Our eggs are from free-range chickens!”
Liang Youhui’s large, deep-set double eyelids lifted now and then, though most of his attention stayed on the steaming griddle in front of him. Two young women from a nearby university were waiting in line. With nothing else to do and no handsome men around to flirt with, he grinned and teased them. “Want another egg? This one’s on me. No charge.”
The girls left with their giant jianbing, laughing brightly, and looked back over their shoulders with sweet smiles. “Handsome, are you working tomorrow too? See you tomorrow!”
Liang Youhui’s mouth curved with delight as he shook his flamboyant headscarf. “I’ll be here!”
He expertly scooped up a ladle of batter, spread it across the griddle into a large circle, lowered his lashes, and asked the next customer, “How many eggs?”
“Four.” The man’s voice was low and rough.
Liang Youhui’s hand jerked, and half the batter splashed onto the floor of the truck.
He lifted his eyes and stared at the man in front of him.
The man was deeply tanned and wore sunglasses, a black tank top, and black trousers. Against the romantic beach atmosphere of Southern California, he looked absurdly out of place, like a KGB actor from a spy drama who had walked into the wrong musical comedy.
Young Master Liang fell into a daze for a moment. The sunlight was painfully bright, dazzling him so badly he thought he must be dreaming. He stared without managing a coherent word.
Xue Qian tipped his chin toward the griddle and spoke coolly. “Cook the eggs. Four. Spicy. Cilantro.”
Liang did not need to be told what flavors he liked.
“Brother…” Liang Youhui called softly.
“I’m begging you, brother, make my damn jianbing first! I haven’t eaten breakfast either,” Xue Qian grunted.
Captain Xue had been searching since morning and did not find the market and this food truck until the sun was almost directly overhead. By then he was so hungry his temper was starting to flare.
Liang Youhui’s fingers suddenly stopped cooperating. He fumbled so badly that he could not lift an intact pancake from the griddle no matter how he tried. The poor jianbing came out a wreck, and his heart felt just as thoroughly mangled.
Xue Qian tilted his head and eyed Liang’s loud floral headscarf. “Huh. Interesting headscarf. Pretty damn flashy.”
The student handling the money glanced over several times in confusion. The newcomer looked aggressive and intimidating. Was he here to collect protection money?
With half a cigarette between his teeth, Xue Qian asked through it, “Those two girls just now, who were they? You know them? Close to them?”
“Don’t know them. Not close!” Liang Youhui shook his head rapidly, clearing himself at once.
“If you’re not close, why the fuck were you flirting with them?… Do you know me? Are you close to me?” Xue Qian stared coldly at Young Master Liang.
Liang Youhui nodded hard, and heat suddenly flooded his eyes. The lonely, miserable stretch of his life had finally reached its end. All at once he wanted badly to cry and badly to go home. His father was in prison. The old drinking buddies and fair-weather friends had scattered long ago, abandoning the fallen young master and ruined aristocrat. There was no one else in his life he could rely on.
“Brother, I really missed you,” Liang Youhui said.
Liang Youhui finally produced the ragged four-egg jianbing, abandoned the customers behind him, and jumped out through the back of the truck.
Xue Qian took the jianbing in one hand and opened his other arm, pulling Liang Youhui tightly against him.
Their warm, sweat-damp bodies pressed together, both chests trembling slightly after too long spent alone. Xue Qian still had the cigarette between his teeth when he kissed Liang full on the mouth. Liang Youhui immediately wrapped his arms around Brother Xue, and the two kissed with pent-up heat until the long separation burned away between them. On a Southern California beach, with people around them far too accustomed to same-sex couples to care, passersby simply whistled and cheered them on.
The cigarette butt quickly became soaked and passed awkwardly between their mouths. Liang Youhui choked and nearly swallowed it.
“Wait.” Young Master Liang broke away, spat out the soggy cigarette butt with a ptui, then immediately threw himself back around Captain Xue and kissed him again, rubbing himself shamelessly against him until the floral headscarf fell from his head.
The student poked his head out of the truck, completely stunned. “Holy shit… your boyfriend?”
“Want me to take you home?” Xue Qian removed his sunglasses and looked down at Liang Youhui’s beautiful eyes as he spoke.
“Sure! Turn the corner, two blocks over, 508 Southwest Jackson Road, Apartment 316. Brother, I’ll take you there.” Liang Youhui clung to Officer Xue like an octopus, shamelessly sticky.
“Fuck…” Captain Xue cursed.
That shameless little slut had immediately misunderstood what Xue meant by “take you home.” Xue Qian mocked him inwardly for getting the wrong idea, yet he happened to like this particular misunderstanding. He was hot, moved, and badly tempted too.
He lowered his head and kissed him once more, then said without another trace of hesitation, “Take me there. That apartment of yours, whatever the number was. Where is it?”
……
Later, Xue Qian brought Liang Youhui back from Southern California, and the two quietly settled into a stable long-term life together.
With a police baton and handcuffs keeping him in line, Young Master Liang no longer dared run around fooling with people. For the rest of his life he somehow became a thoroughly domestic husband, living sweetly with Officer Xue and waiting for him to come home. If Liang ever dared go wandering again, his man would fuck him senseless.
Xue Qian was far too busy with work, often staying out all night on major cases. According to rumor, Young Master Liang spent so much time alone at home missing his husband that if Brother Xue failed to come home for one more night, Liang would probably set up a jianbing cart outside police headquarters and wait for him there.
Meanwhile, Mr. Yan was nearing the end of his sentence in detention.
In the end, it still came back to the Gu Yaoting case. Yan Xiaodao had injured someone with a blade at the arrest scene in a fit of rage. Had the other party been an ordinary criminal who attracted no public attention, the matter might easily have been minimized and dismissed in court as “self-defense.” But this fifteen-year-old case had caused enormous public controversy, and countless eyes were fixed on the sentencing of everyone involved. Yan did not want to leave Bureau Chief Bao with any problem that could not be explained cleanly. He needed no one to excuse him, and he did not mind bearing the responsibility that belonged to him.
The court convicted him of intentional injury with a weapon. Self-defense circumstances, voluntary surrender, and meritorious assistance were all considered, so the sentence was light, only six months. A sentence that short did not require transfer to prison; he could simply serve the full term in the detention center.
In the depths of winter, pale mist drifted over Linwan’s deep, ice-free harbor, warm sunlight shining onto the dark blue-green water moving beneath it.
Cars moved slowly along the snowy coastal road, neither hurrying nor lingering, making their way through the winter. Spring would always return before too long.
Yan Xiaodao had just come back from morning exercise and recreation, hot breath streaming from his mouth. He still kept up the tough-man habit of training through the coldest days of winter and the hottest days of summer. Even on freezing winter mornings, he poured cold water over his head and scrubbed himself down with it, leaving the other detainees staring in admiration.
After a breakfast of steamed buns, rice porridge, and pickled vegetables that left his mouth painfully bland, Yan Xiaodao managed to bum a cigarette from an officer he knew.
He was a rough man who had endured hard times before, so this was hardly unbearable. Even so, he sometimes missed Mr. Ling’s elaborate five-course Western meals, and he missed the sight of Ling He lying naked on their moonlit bed with his long hair spread around him in all that languid, seductive beauty… At least he would be out soon.
With nothing much to do during the six months in detention, Yan passed the time by reading, usually for nearly eight hours a day. He had Fengfeng and Kuanzi bring him regular loads of books. Every two weeks, the two younger brothers came to the detention center hauling what looked like a ton of reading material, keeping their boss occupied through the lonely boredom of his single life in detention.
“Good thing it was only six months,” Yang Xifeng sighed. “If Boss had gotten a few years, he’d probably come out of jail a top student.”
Today was visiting day. An officer Yan knew came over, beckoned to him, and led him down the corridor.
The officer deliberately brought him into a small private visiting room rather than the usual crowded visitation hall. There was almost no furniture inside, only a single chair standing by itself in the center. Yan Xiaodao sat down to wait, then looked up as the door opened and a tall figure filled his vision.
Ling He had hurried through the bitter cold, white breath streaming from his nose and mouth, his eyes bright.
The cold had left Ling He pale with a red nose, and he kept sniffling. His hair was tied high at the back of his head, and his face was still devastatingly beautiful.
Yan Xiaodao smiled and looked appreciatively at his lover.
Ling He strode forward and cupped Xiaodao’s head in both hands. Then he realized how cold his hands were, quickly let go, and shoved them inside his own shirt against the skin of his abdomen to warm them.
“Hey… they’re freezing, don’t do that…” Yan Xiaodao quickly caught both of Ling He’s hands and pulled them back, enclosing them between his own to warm them.
Once his hands were warm, Ling He breathed hard into both palms, then cupped Xiaodao’s face again and kissed him deeply for several minutes with unmistakable tenderness, his tongue tracing every tooth.
“How did you get us a private room?” Yan Xiaodao patted his thigh in invitation.
“I ‘offered’ the five-course lunch box I brought you to that officer, and we got a private room in exchange!” There was only one chair, so Ling He naturally sat down on Yan Xiaodao’s lap, looking apologetic. “Sorry. Your lunch is gone.”
“Seeing you is enough.” Yan Xiaodao showed his teeth in a satisfied grin.
“You can eat me instead,” Ling He said casually, looking at Xiaodao with calm affection.
Yan Xiaodao’s throat moved sharply and he looked away. “Don’t tease me. I’ve been pent up for months.”
A smile touched Ling He’s lips. “So have I. If I don’t tease you, who am I supposed to tease?”
Yan’s body reacted immediately, his arousal obvious beneath Ling He’s thigh.
Still sitting on him, Ling He casually stripped off his down jacket. His taste in clothing was so simple it bordered on monotonous. Beneath the coat he wore only a thin cream-colored Henley with three buttons partly open at the chest, the lines of his fit body visible beneath the light fabric. The same style could apparently carry Mr. Ling through spring, summer, autumn, and winter without variation, and somehow he still looked better than anyone else.
Ling He lifted the hem of his shirt, exposing his smooth, solid chest and abdomen to Yan Xiaodao and revealing the spent-cartridge pendant hanging from his neck. The invitation in his eyes was clear: Come here.
“You can eat me, sleep with me, do whatever you want with me.” Ling He stroked Yan’s jaw and neck and waited patiently, his expression making it obvious he was not joking.
That was simply the way Ling He was. He had never once said the three embarrassingly sentimental words I love you to Yan Xiaodao, yet those words were written plainly all over his face. What was left for either of them to say?
Yan Xiaodao was painfully wound up, but he forced himself to change the subject. “Quit messing around. There’s a camera.”
Ling He, still shamelessly inviting in the half-open shirt, replied, “I’m not afraid of a camera. Haven’t you been thinking about this the whole time? Come on. Let me make you feel good.”
Yan Xiaodao’s eyes grew faintly hot. His mind was in complete disarray as he held Ling close and coaxed him softly. “Don’t do this. What am I rushing for? You’re mine anyway. Wait until I get out.”
Yan knew perfectly well that Ling He had always favored extreme solutions, with a streak of obsession and madness in him. If Yan wanted to today, Ling would genuinely let him take things as far as he wished right here.
Yan kissed the beautiful curve of Ling He’s neck. “Your hand is enough.”
Ling He slid off his lap, went directly to his knees in front of him, and firmly spread Yan’s legs apart.
Yan Xiaodao suddenly realized what Ling intended.
A black surveillance camera sat in the corner of the ceiling. Ling had obviously noticed it long ago and was doing this deliberately, utterly indifferent to anyone else’s gaze or to whatever gossip the outside world might invent about his life. With a life this fierce, what was there left to fear?
Ling positioned his body to block the camera’s direct angle. From the lens, all anyone could see was his back and the unmistakably intimate posture between them. Even without a clear view, there would be no mistaking what was happening.
Yan Xiaodao instinctively tried to stop him. “Xiaohe…”
Ling tugged at his underwear with his teeth. His clear emerald eyes held no hesitation or barrier as he leaned in.
Ling’s brows drew faintly together and his lashes trembled. Yan, overwhelmed, kept stroking his face and hair while his breathing grew ragged as Ling continued.
Even at the last moment, Yan was still worried about him and tried to pull back. “Don’t… not in your mouth.”
Ling He refused to let him pull away and calmly finished what he had started.
The release came all at once. Yan Xiaodao, overwhelmed by pleasure, concern, and a wrenching rush of love, stroked Ling He’s face in a flustered panic at the mess left between them.
Yan had barely opened his mouth to protest when Ling He ignored him and swallowed.
Yan pulled Ling He back onto his lap. Ling dabbed a little of the remaining mess with a fingertip and teasingly offered Yan a taste. “Not bad.”
It was Xiaodao.
How could it be bad?
Yan Xiaodao was still breathing hard. “How can that possibly taste good?”
Ling He gave an unconcerned smile. “I skipped breakfast. I was hungry anyway. This fills me up.”
This fills me up. Yan Xiaodao finally broke, laughing so deeply it resonated in his chest. His eyes suddenly reddened as he pulled Ling close and kissed his neck and chest hard.
To have one Ling He in a lifetime, what more could a man ask for?
Not long before the Lunar New Year, Mr. Yan was finally released from detention.
It felt as though he had once again wandered along the border where the human world and the ghost realm met, walking the dangerous edge between black and white, before taking one more step back into the warmth of ordinary mortal life.
Yan Xiaodao himself did not feel particularly changed. His hair was shorter, he had seen more of the world, his face and body were leaner, his mind was calmer, his grip on the hand beside him was tighter, and his resolve had grown steadier.
It was also before the New Year, not long after his release, that he called Bureau Chief Bao to pay his respects and suggested gathering a few old acquaintances for a meal.
“Bao Qingtian” had been promoted as well. Bao Zhengwei had transferred out of the Linwan branch and was now the full municipal bureau chief. The biggest man in charge at the Linwan branch these days was Xue Qian.
Bureau Chief Bao said over the phone, “Xiaodao, there’s something I haven’t had the chance to tell you. I thought I’d wait until you got out and had some time to rest. But it’s New Year, and every festive season makes people think more of family. That’s only natural, so…”
Yan Xiaodao was puzzled. Family? Who exactly was he supposed to miss? Other than going to the seaside pier to pour out liquor in memory of his godfather, who had departed never to return, or going home to spend time with his adoptive mother and his lover, who else counted as family?
Bao Zhengwei’s voice remained calm. “We did locate your biological relatives and confirm your original family background… Would you be willing to meet them? It’s New Year, after all. A time for family reunions.”
“Family reunion?” Yan Xiaodao immediately replied, “Pretend I never heard those words. Who exactly am I supposed to reunite with?”
Bao Zhengwei sighed. He knew how hardheaded and stubborn Xiaodao could be. “I’m not forcing you. I’m only informing you that your biological father is currently in intensive care at a military hospital in Yandu. I’ve done my damn duty by telling you. What you do with that information is up to you.”
Yan Xiaodao fell into a long silence.
Before the New Year, Yan Xiaodao went to Yandu and visited that hospital.
Although he tried his best to hide the hollow grief inside him and avoid Ling He’s questions, Ling saw through him anyway and insisted on accompanying him to Yandu for this supposed “family visit,” worried that Yan might lose control of his emotions or something might happen.
Both men were wrapped in heavy down jackets and ski caps against the bitter cold. Being covered so thoroughly that almost no skin showed somehow gave them a little sense of calm and protection.
Another senior member of the task force received them in a hospital conference room, temporarily acting on Bao Zhengwei’s behalf to handle Yan Xiaodao’s family identification. He explained briefly, “He’s retired from his position now. He just turned sixty, which isn’t actually very old, but the doctors say he has a number of health problems and has been doing badly lately… He very much hopes to see you.”
Yan Xiaodao’s biological father was surnamed Han. He had spent much of his career stationed in a frontier region and came from a military family whose members had distinguished themselves in battle for generations.
That day, Yan Xiaodao finally understood that he was not even like “Ling He.” He was another version of Mai Yunliang.
Back then, perhaps because certain powerful people had coerced and enticed the family, perhaps because of private exchanges of interest, or perhaps simply because Yan was not the legitimate son of the primary household and therefore mattered less, he had been prepared as a piece to sacrifice. Later, during the process of that exchange, his father changed his mind. Unable to bear it and wavering when he should have made a clean decision, he secretly tried to arrange for someone to switch the boy out of that place in Yandu and bring him back.
Then one accident after another happened during the attempted switch. The frontier and Yandu were separated by a vast distance, and once trouble arose across all those mountains and roads, there was little the family could do in time. According to the present investigation, Yan Xiaodao was abducted on the journey back by people with bad intentions who wanted to sell the beautiful boy for money. He was originally meant to be sold to a southern coastal province where sons were highly prized, but more accidents occurred along the way. He drifted from place to place for nearly two full years, making an enormous circuit before finally ending up in Jizhou Province.
The trafficker who had taken him eventually met an ugly end. He was struck and killed in a street accident. An unregistered three-wheeled motorcycle, a false identity document, and an unclaimed body in a morgue were all that remained of him. Yan Xiaodao survived the crash by sheer luck and became a solitary boy wandering beside the road… until more than a month later, as though by fate, he met his adoptive mother, Madam Yan, who descended into his life like a bodhisattva and fed him the first full meal that saved him.
The official also explained the true identity of Yan Xiaodao’s biological mother.
She too had come from a prominent official family. But theirs had never been a proper marriage. It had been an extramarital affair from the beginning. A child born from such a relationship was already a difficult complication, and because he was not a legitimate son born to the lawful wife, whether he would ever be brought into the family household was itself a burden and a problem.
“So I was simply sent away like that?” Yan Xiaodao asked calmly.
“Yes. Your biological mother was not in very good health. After losing you, she became deeply regretful and depressed and died when she was around forty.” The official took out a stack of copied files containing clear color family photographs. The woman appeared beautiful and refined. The resemblance between mother and son was unmistakable in the shape of her features, and there was a delicate little mole beside one nostril. There was no doubt that she was Yan Xiaodao’s birth mother.
“And they later wanted to switch me back?” Yan Xiaodao found it unbelievable.
“Yes. Your father regretted it. You were his biological son, after all, so he wanted you brought back. Then all those accidents happened along the way. The whole thing had been carried out secretly in the first place, so once something went wrong, they didn’t dare report it to the police or make a public search. In the end, they actually lost you…” the official said with a sigh.
“Was that really an accident? Maybe fate decided they were never supposed to have me as a son. I have nothing to do with him.” Yan Xiaodao’s voice was cold.
“Your father has still thought about you all these years. He has mentioned you again and again. Now he’s older and in poor health, and every meeting may be the last. Even if you don’t want to acknowledge him, even if you resent him, you should still see him once. He wants to apologize to you face to face.” The official was himself an older man in a senior position and perhaps understood the contradictions in Yan’s father more easily. He was probably thinking that every parent made mistakes and deserved a chance to make amends.
“The apology came too late,” Yan Xiaodao said. “A parent can make some mistakes that cannot be repaired.”
Ling He sat quietly in the room, simply keeping Yan company. He had no intention of interfering in Xiaodao’s family affairs, but even he had not expected Yan to be so stubborn and absolute.
Ling He had never asked him directly: Xiaodao, do you truly remember nothing from those years? Not even a single fragment? Surely something remained. He had once had parents. He had once been somewhere in Yandu. He had passed through traffickers’ hands and drifted through several southern provinces… Ling believed Yan did retain a few dim, fragmented memories, but had deliberately and decisively chosen to abandon them because he did not want to remember.
The official looked awkward. “So… are you going to see him today or not?”
Yan Xiaodao pushed back his chair and stood. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I’m leaving. I won’t see him.”
The official froze and tried to persuade him. “He’s already old and in intensive care. The doctors say he may have only a few months, perhaps a year at most. Just meet him once and say a few words. Think of it as giving him some comfort.”
The deepest pain and refusal to forgive gathered between Yan Xiaodao’s brows. “Some things simply cannot be undone. I never want to see him.
“You can tell him clearly that my mother is Madam Yan, my father is Qi Baoshan, and I have a lover. I have no other family.”
Leaving those words behind with the weight of something carved in stone, Yan Xiaodao turned and walked away.
For an instant, he seemed to hear the heavy, labored breathing of someone beneath an oxygen mask in the intensive care unit.
He was not as easygoing as many people believed. He was not willing to offer casual forgiveness and tolerance to everyone. Once his bottom line had been trampled into dust without mercy, he had no intention of bowing his head. Since they had once chosen to separate flesh and blood and take different roads, there was no need now to force a false family reunion out of empty sentiment.
In his heart, this stranger was worth less than a single finger of Qi Baoshan’s. Yan decided that when he returned, he would formally set up a memorial tablet for Master Qi, light incense, knock his head against the floor a few more times, and call Qi Baoshan his own father.
The railroad switch that had changed the course of Yan’s entire life had sent him onto this difficult, broken track. Here he rolled hard across another obstacle and continued forward, without turning aside and without looking back.
As Yan Xiaodao stepped out into the corridor, Ling He reached over and took his hand.
Their fingers interlaced. Ling He gave him a thoughtful glance, then released his hand only to pull him tightly into his arms, kiss his temple, and hold him with firm, wordless comfort, afraid that Xiaodao was hurting too badly.
They walked down the entrance steps, patches of old snow scattered across them, while warm sunlight fell gently over their heads. Their hearts opened again. Their fingers interlaced once more, gripping tightly, with no intention of ever being separated again.
Both of them had once struggled through thickets of thorns searching for an exit from their own fates. In a maze thick with fog, they had met each other on a narrow road when neither had expected it. Once they met, it was earthshaking. Once they met, it became a promise for life.
Each had once dragged behind him the enormous shadow of an iceberg built from the hardships of living, moving alone and unafraid through frozen rivers.
Now simply holding hands was enough to melt those icebergs, to make the dark tide recede from their hearts, and to cast every shadow behind them. They would not betray the life they had been given.
Traffic flowed along the street and the faces in the crowd were bright with anticipation. The atmosphere of the approaching Lunar New Year gradually came alive among the glittering shop windows and laughter along the road, warming the heart of a wanderer who had spent half his life adrift. Yan Xiaodao held Mr. Ling’s hand, turned his head, and kissed him deeply. Their handsome profiles reflected together in the shop glass, illuminated by the lights and the vivid red New Year decorations, while their eyes silently made a covenant to walk side by side through lifetime after lifetime.
【Main Story Complete】