Chapter 74

The sound of traffic was completely blocked outside the window, and in the quiet, the sound of the sports car locking was particularly clear. With a click, Wu Baiyan waited for her response.

Shang Mingbao instinctively wanted to choose option two. After parting her lips, she suddenly felt something was off: “Who are you to make decisions for me?”

“Who said I’m making decisions for you?” Wu Baiyan pressed the ignition button and put his hands on the steering wheel. “Fine, I’ll take you to the airport now. Do whatever you want, I can’t control it. I give up.”

His expression of frustration made Shang Mingbao curl the corners of her lips slightly: “There’s no need for such angry words. I know what I’m doing.”

“You know what you’re doing?!” Wu Baiyan glared at her. “Shang Mingbao, please realize your own worth and status. If you say you want to get married now, the suitors would flatten your Deep Water Bay, understand? In ancient times, Miss Shang’s matchmaking could last a whole month. Why do you have to insist on this no-marriage stance?”

Shang Mingbao genuinely smiled this time, showing a hint of real amusement amidst her pallor: “I didn’t realize you were quite humorous.”

“Ugh.”

“Do you remember the crappy celebrity you always talk about?”

Wu Baiyan nodded vaguely. “What?”

“When I first discovered that he had deceived me, I was truly heartbroken. It felt like betrayal, deceit, and a complete collapse. Looking back now, it’s incredible to me because I lost so much weight over those three months, stayed indoors, and everyone around me was worried. Sophie was afraid to speak loudly or let me see any news about the entertainment industry. She was always dazed, slow to react, and lacked the energy to do anything, including eating and sleeping.”

Wu Baiyan’s face remained cold. “What are you trying to say?”

“That three months are a blank in my life, a time of confusion. I want to say,” Shang Mingbao looked at him steadily, “my affection for that celebrity was not even one percent of what I feel for Xiang Feiran. But I’ve grown up, and Xiang Feiran is dealing with a grown-up version of me. Unfortunately, I won’t spend three months pining for anyone again, but I want to fly over and have him clarify things to my face. If he insists it’s for my own good, then I’ll leave.”

In Wu Baiyan’s stunned silence, Shang Mingbao’s eyes held a calm determination. “This is love, Wu Baiyan. I don’t know if you understand, but this is love, not just pride, not a competition, not a piece of candy that you don’t care about if you can’t get it. This is love.”

Shang Mingbao continued, her face downcast, remaining silent for a long time. “In these two years, while he was in Boston and I was in New York, it was a total of ninety-six weeks. I remember I only went to Boston to see him six times, while he came to see me more than ninety times. A flight takes one hour and twenty minutes, round trip is two hours and forty minutes, plus the journey from Harvard to the airport, and from the airport to the Upper East Side, and flight delays…”

Tears dripped one by one onto the back of her hand.

“Wu Baiyan, that’s two hundred sixteen hours of flying, and more. I hate going to the airport, but I have a private jet, I skip the queues, I have a dedicated car service… Since I was young, I knew what’s most precious is not money, not power, but time. Money can make more money, power can create more power, but whether poor or rich, we only have one lifetime. In the face of twenty-four hours, we are equal. The time my older brother and father have is no more than that of a beggar. This lifetime’s time should be given to family, loved ones, interests, studies, careers, travel, contemplation, and sleep… Who has a few more hours in a day? Xiang Feiran is a postdoc who only finishes work at midnight and has no weekends. I never thought to ask if he gets enough sleep, if he has enough time to do what he truly wants…”

Shang Mingbao lifted her face.

It was streaked with tears.

“All you know is to tell me to be more ambitious, but has anyone told him to be more ambitious, to not squander his time and health? Do you want to say that because he loves me, he deserves it? But love isn’t like that… The love my mother and father taught me isn’t like this.

“If I fly twenty-one hours to see him, does that make me cheap? No, it means that if I don’t fly over, these three years between us will be truly cheap. It’s me and him, and all our love, effort, money, time, and emotions become cheap and laughable!”

She looked at Wu Baiyan, speaking clearly: “I want a clear and serious farewell. This is Shang Mingbao’s decision.”

He shouldn’t agree to her, morally or emotionally, or even out of self-interest. He should have just sent her back to the Upper East Side and let Sophie take care of her. But looking at her eyes and face, clear, bright, resolute, and filled with the capacity to love and be loved, Wu Baiyan clenched his teeth, ground them together, and finally took her to the airport.

He was disgraced and humiliated in front of Shang Mingbao, but as he stared at the red light, only one thought echoed in his mind:

Can he ever be loved like this?

Without time to report the flight details, Shang Mingbao could only book the nearest available flight, with a transfer in Tokyo.

Wu Baiyan had someone fetch Shang Mingbao’s passport and all necessary documents from Sophie, and finally handed her a power bank: “Don’t be stupid and lose contact, young lady.”

Shang Mingbao’s canvas bag jingled with a pile of small items.

It was time for security checks. She waved goodbye, but was pulled back by Wu Baiyan.

He insisted, “Promise me that if he still wants to break up, you’ll turn around and leave.”

Shang Mingbao pressed her lips together, raising the corners of her mouth slightly, a weak smile, pale and bleak, but still conveying a sense of vitality.

“I promise myself.”

Amidst the various farewells at the security checkpoint, Shang Mingbao turned and merged into the crowd alone.

What a pity, Alan, you don’t understand. If I hadn’t forced this matter so early, none of this would have happened, or at least not now. Who knows about the future? Maybe we won’t love each other anymore…

The roar of the turbine climbed into the sky from the runway. How fortunate that New York was sunny today.

During the long flight, Shang Mingbao slept several times. Although not very deeply, she forced herself to close her eyes, not allowing her mind to wander. With this forceful approach, her eyelids closed tightly as if glued, and she indeed managed to fall asleep, waking up and falling asleep again, restoring some energy in her own pool.

She was heading into battle; if Xiang Feiran refused to fight, she could only drop her weapons and armor and look around in confusion.

When she landed in Tokyo, Shang Mingbao looked at herself in the bathroom mirror—disheveled hair, suspicious gray smudges on her cheeks, and a pale face, carrying a canvas bag with numerous scars. No wonder the flight attendant had checked her first-class ticket several times.

She couldn’t meet him like this; otherwise, she’d be defeated before the fight began. She entered a brand store, used the four hours of her layover to carefully pick out an outfit, did her makeup, and tidied her hair. During this time, she systematically called Wendy, Shena, and her school to ask for leave and even reviewed some videos.

Ning city was still so hot. After Xiang Lianqiao was settled in the special care ward, Xiang Feiran was sweating profusely and stood under the air conditioning for a long time.

In the morning, the villa’s elevator malfunctioned. Xiang Lianqiao had to rely on his assistant and Xiang Feiran to help him up and down, feeling very embarrassed. He got stubborn and insisted on going down by himself. Although Xiang Feiran was quick to catch him and took some of the weight off, Xiang Lianqiao still suffered from the impact.

At his age, a fall is very dangerous. Despite Xiang Lianqiao’s objections, Xiang Feiran decided to take him to the hospital and had a thorough examination from top to bottom. Although he received the highest level of special care, the examination was still exhausting. Xiang Lianqiao was angry about this and lay silently in bed, pretending to sleep with his eyes closed.

When he heard Xiang Feiran calling his aunt, he suddenly opened his eyes. “I’m not in critical condition, why is she coming over? To read the will?!”

His aunt heard this and smiled wryly at Xiang Feiran, asking him to calm down.

After ending the call, Xiang Feiran sat down on the sofa and peeled an orange for Xiang Lianqiao. His teeth weren’t strong enough to bite into apples and he could only manage to chew a few slices of pear. Oranges were in season, so Xiang Feiran tasted a segment to check if it was sweet and sour. When Xiang Lianqiao saw this, he narrowed his eyes, “What are you doing, stealing my orange?”

Xiang Feiran smiled and put the orange into Xiang Lianqiao’s hand, which was attached to an IV drip. “I’ve tasted it, it’s sweet.”

Xiang Lianqiao nibbled on the segments one by one. After three segments, he looked over and saw Xiang Feiran staring blankly at the edge of the bed.

That kind of expression was rare on his face—it was a look of uncontrolled drifting, like a person present but whose soul had strayed away, like a child without a home.

“Grandpa is fine,” Xiang Lianqiao said. “It’s just a fall. The doctor said I’m doing well and will live a long life!”

Xiang Feiran smiled slightly, “Don’t curse yourself, who says a hundred years is enough?”

“Well, no. If I’m still alive when you’re in your forties or fifties, and you’re still single, it will really make me mad.”

Xiang Feiran replied, “You’ve never been able to make decisions for me since you were young, so just let this matter go.”

Xiang Lianqiao sneered, “What if Grandpa says he’ll go on a hunger strike if you don’t get married?”

Xiang Feiran resisted rolling his eyes and only shook his head, “Why don’t you try it?”

Xiang Lianqiao was choked by this and stopped eating the orange and watching the news. He slowly slid into the bed and said, “I need to rest now. Tell Xiang Quicheng not to bother me.”

Xiang Quicheng was Fang Suining’s mother, and Xiang Lianqiao’s only biological child. Xiang Quicheng had just been promoted to vice dean of the law school and was very busy. She and her husband had been living separately for a long time, not divorcing due to the influence and interests of their families. Xiang Lianqiao was considerate of her and didn’t want her to run around for him.

Xiang Feiran adjusted the blanket for him, lowered the white roller blinds on the window, and closed the door as he left.

The special care ward corridor was very quiet and pristine. Nurses passed by and nodded greetings. Unable to smoke, Xiang Feiran leaned against the white wall and put out a cigarette that had been crushed.

He habitually checked his phone, not to see if Shang Mingbao had sent him any messages, but to confirm she was still on his contact list.

He was afraid she might block him.

Although there was nothing to see even if she didn’t block him, since she didn’t post on social media.

To know how she was doing, apart from her Instagram, he could also check Wu Baiyan’s account. Over the past week, Wu Baiyan had posted many updates about her—selecting gems, watching baseball games, taking pictures with the Yankees, going for drives, and yachting.

In those photos, Shang Mingbao looked happy and bright, or angry, glaring at him—vivid and lovely.

Xiang Feiran didn’t compare which Shang Mingbao was cuter, but seeing her busy and cheerful these days, amidst the pain in his heart, he gradually felt at ease.

Xiang Quicheng arrived forty minutes later. After handing over, she thought he hadn’t rested well after a busy day and advised, “You should go back and rest. Your aunt is here.”

In the parking lot, Xiang Feiran got into the Mercedes car that Xiang Lianqiao had given him and took half a minute to start the engine. With nowhere to go and not daring to return to the mountains, he drove aimlessly. Before he knew it, he had left the city and found himself on an unknown country road. He stopped the car, leaned on the steering wheel, and remained there for a long time without looking up.

The sound of the horn continued to echo across the fields where rice had been harvested, swallowed by the wilderness and villages. He was oblivious, and after a while, his shoulders began to tremble, holding the steering wheel tightly.

Xiang Quicheng was driven away by Xiang Lianqiao after only a few hours, so Xiang Feiran took over. The special care ward had a single room for family members to sleep in. After comforting the old man and taking a shower, Xiang Feiran went to sleep. He was awakened in the early morning by Xiang Lianqiao’s groans due to leg pain from the season change. He massaged him for a long time. Xiang Lianqiao’s breathing alternated between light and heavy, and he muttered in his sleep, “Feiran, is something happening?”

He saw his pale face, as if suffering from a deep internal injury that others couldn’t see.

“No.”

“Mingbao is a very good girl who likes you. When you end things with her, be clear and gentle, not so sudden and harsh. Don’t make a girl sad for no reason.”

In the dimness, he couldn’t see Xiang Feiran’s clenched jawline, nor could he hear the slight tremor in his breathing.

“I understand,” Xiang Feiran said calmly.

He wasn’t sure if he was being gentle or clear.

After a while, Xiang Lianqiao raised his hand and reached for Xiang Feiran’s. Xiang Feiran took it and gently patted his hand on the back.

“The heart of a lover cannot be hurt… the heart of a lover cannot be hurt…” he murmured hoarsely and indistinctly.

Xiang Feiran’s grip on his hand eventually lost control. He held Xiang Lianqiao’s hand tightly, with tears streaming down his face from his tightly closed eyes.

Early the next morning, Aunt Lan packed her things, ready to go down the mountain to the hospital and replace Xiang Feiran. The driver, Uncle Zhao, took her down the mountain and they encountered a taxi on the winding road.

The road was narrow. Uncle Zhao lowered the window and directed the taxi driver to turn the steering wheel. Aunt Lan, with her sharp eyes, spotted a vague outline from that tricky angle and exclaimed, “Is that Mingbao?”

Uncle Zhao, with a better view, looked closely, lowered the window fully, and called out loudly, “Mingbao?”

Shang Mingbao, who was leaning against the window, was startled awake by the voice and shivered, thinking it was just a bizarre dream. Hearing the voice again, she rolled down the window and looked out.

Uncle Zhao looked older than before, with gray hair at his temples, and he smiled at her, “It really is you. Aunt Lan has sharp eyes. Feiran isn’t here, didn’t you know?”

“I…” Shang Mingbao shook her head. “I just came to see Grandpa.”

Since they weren’t public yet, she was very restrained.

Uncle Zhao understood and didn’t expose her. “The old man is at the hospital. You can come with us; we’re heading there anyway.”

Shang Mingbao paid the fare in advance. Even as she got into the new Hongqi car, it still felt surreal.

“Is Grandpa ill?” She asked anxiously.

“Oh, no,” Aunt Lan explained. “He just slipped and fell, worried about any potential issues, so he’s being checked at the hospital and will stay for a few days.”

Shang Mingbao nodded, her anxiety easing slightly. “How has Feiran been these past few days?”

“Not well,” Aunt Lan said with concern, sighing. “He’s been running around and hasn’t had time to sit down.”

She smiled at Shang Mingbao. “You’re here, he’ll definitely be happy.”

Shang Mingbao felt her eyes well up with tears and turned her face to look out the window to hide her emotions.

As the green shadows danced by, she fell asleep. When she awoke, she was in Aunt Lan’s arms, and the car had reached the city center.

The intensive care unit was in a separate building, a tranquil corner surrounded by green branches and a red brick building. After a strict registration and verification at the lobby, the security allowed them in.

They took the elevator straight up, and Shang Mingbao’s heart felt like it was about to vomit bile.

Would he find her troublesome and clingy? She wasn’t like that, but if he had that perception, she would show him her resolve and pride.

Uncle Zhao knocked lightly on the door and a voice from inside said, “Come in.”

The voice was cold, calm, with a hint of weariness.

Shang Mingbao gripped her canvas bag tightly under her arm.

Uncle Zhao opened the door and entered first, followed by Aunt Lan. Aunt Lan didn’t close the door, revealing Shang Mingbao’s full figure behind Uncle Zhao’s shoulders. Xiang Feiran lazily glanced up and asked, “Who’s here?”

Aunt Lan and Uncle Zhao stepped aside with smiles, revealing Shang Mingbao.

She wore a simple T-shirt and jeans, with her cashmere cardigan hanging from the shoulder strap of her canvas bag. Her hands were clenched into fists—nervous.

She looked directly at Xiang Feiran, trying to discern if he had any moment of subconscious annoyance.

But Xiang Feiran just pursed his lips—more tightly than usual, his gaze fixed, his Adam’s apple moving slightly as he swallowed.

Xiang Lianqiao turned his face and greeted her, “Mingbao, you’re here? Come in.” He waved his hand, not asking where she had come from or why she suddenly appeared.

Shang Mingbao, fighting back tears, sat down by the bed, took his hand, and asked after him warmly. After chatting for a while, she felt she was handling things quite naturally. Xiang Lianqiao mentioned feeling bored and suggested taking her to a nearby private room.

A thin wooden door and thin walls—no soundproofing. As Shang Mingbao followed his footsteps into the room, she could hear Aunt Lan’s voice through the wall, filled with warmth, reporting everything from the mountains and trying to cheer Xiang Lianqiao up. He nodded and listened, asking her to talk more, while picking up the remote and turning up the TV volume.

The private room also had a wall-mounted TV, and a dark red wooden shelf below it. Shang Mingbao leaned against this shelf, bracing herself with her hands on its edge.

They hadn’t spoken for a long time, while the room next door seemed particularly lively.

Aunt Lan mentioned picking fruits on the mountain yesterday, and the persimmons weren’t ripe yet.

They stared at each other in silence, with the next room sounding particularly lively.

The news channel reported that Russian forces were planning to deploy more troops in Ukraine and had adjusted their frontlines.

They stared at each other for a long time, neither speaking. There were no pleasantries, no greetings, no opening lines, and no smiles.

Shang Mingbao’s eyes were still bright, her brows furrowed, gradually shifting from nervousness to a mix of grievance and stubbornness. Xiang Feiran’s lowered gaze remained calm, his left index finger throbbing with pain—he had been peeling a pear when he saw her, cutting himself with the knife and bleeding, pressing the wound expressionlessly against his palm.

What could they say? Anything they said would be overheard by Xiang Lianqiao and Aunt Lan.

She still didn’t know that they knew everything.

Shang Mingbao bit her lip lightly. She had come at the wrong time; she should leave and talk later. She stood up from in front of the TV, heading for the door. Before she could reach the doorknob, Xiang Feiran grabbed her other arm.

Shang Mingbao felt a shiver inside, as if fate were playing marbles.

He pulled her into his arms with force, not giving her time to react, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her between the door and wall, lowering his head to kiss her.

The flood of unease in Shang Mingbao’s heart burst into tears, merging into their kiss, her salty and hot tears blending with his lips.

She cried intensely, but if not for the kiss and considering the people outside, she would have sobbed uncontrollably. Now, she only shed tears, making the kiss bitter.

She tried to punch and kick a bit, but since it wasn’t sincere, how could Xiang Feiran not hold back? He held her tightly, his arms clenching around her, trembling through his bones.

Finally able to speak, but still mindful of the wall, her tone was heavy, voice low: “Xiang Feiran, in front of me, look at me, and say it again: break—”

Xiang Feiran was silent and intense, holding her face and kissing her with even more urgency than before.

Their breaths intertwined, more intimate than their lips, so anxious, desperate, heavy, and burning that it was impossible to distinguish whose was whose.

He forgot about the pain from his bleeding index finger, which was searing despite being touched by tears, yet he felt a perverse pleasure in his self-destruction. He had smeared his blood all over Shang Mingbao’s face, but she didn’t seem to notice; instead, she tilted her face up to him and said, “If you won’t say it, then just call. You’re the best at breaking up over the phone.”

Xiang Feiran pulled her close again, his breath inexplicably painful. “I refuse.”

“Then send a text. Others write three-line love letters; you can send a three-line breakup message.”

Her eloquence and determination pierced Xiang Feiran’s heart, and the pain in his gaze was apparent. “Don’t break up, please, babe, don’t break up.”

Shang Mingbao’s tears stained her face and bled into the white sleeve of her T-shirt, turning it a vivid red. She was unaware of how frightening she looked. Wiping her face with the back of her hand and sniffling, she said, “I came to break up with you. To do justice to the three years we’ve had. I’m done talking. Now, I’m going back to New York.”

Xiang Feiran trapped her firmly in a corner. “So you came to break up with me and then go off with Wu Baiyan?”

“What?”

“You and he seem to be getting along so well. Did you have fun this past week? Happier than when you were with me?”

Shang Mingbao was confused by his barrage of questions and felt a bit guilty. Avoiding his gaze and wrinkling her nose that had been smeared with blood, she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t avoid it.” Xiang Feiran turned her face gently to face him. “How many workers can replace the love I gave you? How many can he give you? A hundred? A thousand? Five hundred, since his last name is Wu.”

“What nonsense.”

“Yes, five hundred! More than you gave!”

The hurtful words led to another kiss. Xiang Feiran held her chin and kissed her, his whole body aching.

Was he not scared, not uncertain? He didn’t dare to break her mouth or suck her tongue, kissing her repeatedly, only sucking and grinding her lips, to the point of desperation, until he bit her lower lip.

“I don’t believe it.” He said the answer he himself didn’t believe, though his gaze did, reflecting the avalanche of emotions from seeing her bloom on someone else’s Instagram over the past week.

“You don’t believe it? Even the airport was Alan who brought me, because he supports me coming here to break up with you. When I return—”

Shang Mingbao’s wrist was painfully squeezed, her words swallowed by the pain. It was strange why her wrist felt so hot and wet. Looking down, she was horrified to see her pupils dilate: “Xiang Feiran!”

The sight of all the blood, where did it come from? She would have thought she had slit her wrists if she didn’t know better.

Xiang Feiran gasped, his pale lips almost smiling. “You’re calling me Xiang Feiran Ge now?”

“No,” Shang Mingbao looked at him, then at her bleeding wrist, “that’s not important. Where are you hurt? Where’s the blood?”

“Inside.”

“Huh?”

“Inside my heart.”

Shang Mingbao’s lips parted, not knowing that her face was also covered in blood, all marked with Xiang Feiran’s vivid red fingerprints. Unsure of what expression to make, she was in disbelief, caught between tears and laughter. She could only lick her lips and say, “Xiang—Feiran Ge, let me see your hand.”

“No need to see, it’s not serious.” Xiang Feiran said without blinking.

“I’ll take you to the nurse’s station to get it bandaged.”

Xiang Feiran held her tightly again, pressing his burning eyes against her shoulder, saying nothing more, only calling her name softly: “Babe, babe… baby…”

No one noticed that the chatter in the hospital room had ceased for a long time.