“You think she’s strong and ruthless now, don’t you?” Zhou Yuqian suddenly asked. Lin wanted to agree but hesitated, not wanting to hurt his boss. Before he could formulate a response, Zhou Yuqian continued, “Actually, she’s more vulnerable than ever. She doesn’t cry because she fears breaking down; she doesn’t linger at her mother’s grave because she’s afraid her will to live might weaken; and she left me because she’s afraid of the pressure from the outside world that I might not be able to shield her from!” Lin listened, somewhat confused, suspecting his comprehension had dulled, but it seemed his boss didn’t need him to understand, just to listen.
“After so much pain, her distrust in me is understandable. After all, she can’t bear any more hurt. But the more she distrusts me, the more it shows she cares, or why would she be so eager to leave me?” Zhou Yuqian smiled again, thinking of how that silly girl couldn’t grasp that he had decided she was the one the moment he gave her the necklace. Although he couldn’t fully sort out his feelings back then, now he was certain — the tears of a lover are to be preserved, sealing the pain they’ve caused his heart, melting her love, her tears, her everything into an eternal flame within him. So, he didn’t just want her to live well; he wanted her to live happily, cherished.
The Zhang family moved out the next day. Lai Fen had anticipated some resistance, but surprisingly, Zhang Zongxiang promptly took his wife and son to an old house in the suburbs, which was reportedly dilapidated and on the verge of demolition. This was unexpected, especially since Lai Fen hadn’t yet collected the debts related to her mother’s funeral expenses, assuming he still had some money. Upon returning to her small room, the neighbors quickly explained the situation. After Zhang Zongxiang started earning a good income in City A, his wife became extravagant, giving their son, who had dropped out after high school, money without supervision. She herself spent her days at the mahjong table, returning home only after losing everything. Their son, Zhang Lin, was supposed to go to university, but having never studied seriously, he scored poorly in the college entrance exams and ended up hanging out with local idlers.
All the furniture was gone, leaving Lai Fen alone in the now-empty space that had housed many joyful moments over the years. The walls had darkened, and the terrazzo floor bore the marks where furniture once stood. Only an old desk remained in its place, and the glass frame with a photo of her and her mother was covered in dust. This house, which she had missed in her dreams, now filled her with a heavy sense of loss. She couldn’t stay any longer. Perhaps she should go to the furniture store to buy some new pieces, but with Chinese New Year’s Eve tomorrow, she wondered if any stores would be open. Here’s the
