I sat back in my chair, mulling over her story, and finally asked, “Why do you want to share this story?”
She brushed her hair and let out a light sigh. “Because I want to give this story an ending. In reality and in the story, I never had the courage to give it an ending.”
Sitting up, I looked deep into her eyes, seeing only darkness. After a long while, I said, “All I can offer is an ideal, perfect ending in my imagination.”
She gently closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she had regained her sharpness. “Kiddo, thank you.” Instantly, she changed her expression and teased, “But I want you to write it as a CEO story. I told you I have a CEO complex.”
I was stunned and rubbed my throbbing temples. “Isn’t he already a CEO? You know the difference between Chief Executive Officer and President better than I do.”
She stood up, tossing her thick, wavy hair. “Kiddo, a story is a story; it can be changed as you like. It’s settled. Start writing now. Send it on my birthday – it’ll be the best gift. I’m leaving the rest to you. Bye.”
She picked up her coat and left, bringing a fragrant breeze, leaving me staring blankly.
“Alright, Xuan, your dad and mom won’t say more. Get some rest early and be a beautiful bride tomorrow,” Tong Baichuan patted his daughter’s hand with love and pride. Though near his twilight years, he looked vibrant in his casual wear.
“Honey, I haven’t finished talking to our daughter yet,” Liu Qiusi said reluctantly.
“I still have so many things to say to her, and from tomorrow, she won’t be living in this home anymore…” Her tears crystallized, rivaling the pearls and jewels adorning her body.
Tong Baichuan embraced his wife. “Why are you crying? Our daughter is getting married, not becoming a nun. How can she feel at ease getting married if you’re like this?”
Liu Qiusi wiped away her tears and nodded. “Yes, Xuan, mommy shouldn’t cry, but…thinking that our daughter won’t be in Hong Kong often, I can’t bear to let her go.” She buried herself in Tong Baichuan’s embrace and sobbed softly.
