Chapter 10

In the days that followed, Xu Tianyou was unusually quiet. Besides lying in bed humming songs, he mostly spent his time boasting to An Xiaohai about his “glory days.” An Xiaohai quietly listened without saying much, which didn’t bother Xu Tianyou; he kept talking enthusiastically.

The more An Xiaohai listened, the more cautious he felt. Although Xu Tianyou seemed wild and unpredictable, he never revealed any crucial information, only recounting trivial tales of past “heroics” and romances. But still, An Xiaohai managed to pick up some clues:

For instance, it seemed both the Haiyao Group and Haifo Group were supplied by the same force, and the two groups were deeply at odds, frequently clashing over territory. Haifeng County had become their latest battleground, and Xu Tianyou’s presence there was to target the Haiyao Group’s second-in-command.

An Xiaohai considered asking about the identity of this person but held back, sensing that it would be too obvious and potentially dangerous.

The reason Xu Tianyou was captured in the first place was because of intelligence An Xiaohai had provided to Wang Tiejun. In other words, none of this would have happened if not for An Xiaohai’s rebirth, and Xu Tianyou might never have been arrested. An Xiaohai knew these changes could alter the future in unforeseen ways, but he was determined to prevent the tragedies from his previous life from repeating.

After several more days, An Xiaohai’s arm seemed nearly healed. When Xu Tianyou had head-butted his arm, most of the impact had been absorbed by the plaster cast, making the injury less severe than it had seemed. Just as he was planning to request a transfer back to the main cell, Liu Cong visited him.

“An Xiaohai, you have a visitor. Do you want to see them?”

“A visitor? Is it September already?” An Xiaohai was slightly taken aback.

There was only one visiting day allowed per month. Since Lin Xuan’er had visited in August, the fact that he had another visitor meant it was already September.

“Yes, it’s September 1. Do you want to see them?”

“Of course.”

Liu Cong soon returned with An Xiaohai’s mother and Lin Xuan’er, though this time they had to meet through a barred window. As soon as his mother saw him, she burst into tears, unable to speak. An Xiaohai comforted her gently.

“Mom, please don’t be sad. I’m fine, and thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” he said, referring to the money she had sent him.

His mother nodded continuously, feeling that her son seemed to have matured.

“Xiaohai, what should we do next?” Lin Xuan’er asked, her face anxious.

An Xiaohai gave her a reassuring smile. “Do whatever you need to do. Just remember to take care of yourselves while you wait for me to get out. I’m serious—take care of yourselves! Even if the appeal fails, I’ll be out in no more than ten years. I’m still young; I’ll only be 29 then. We can still have a life together. I want everyone to be well when I get out.”

“Don’t worry, Xiaohai, we’ll take care of ourselves!”

His mother, calmer now, spoke up. “Your grandparents are here too, but only a few people can come in at a time.”

“I understand, Mom. Please reassure them, tell them not to worry, and to take care of themselves. When I get out, I’ll make it up to them.”

“I will!” she nodded earnestly.

“Xuan’er, it’s already September. Why are you still here? Isn’t today the start of term? Where’s Pan Zhuangzhuang? I haven’t seen him around.”

“I took the day off. There’s no class today, just orientation, and I’ll head back this afternoon. Zhuangzhuang took your advice and started a job at the electronics market in Guoqiang South,” she replied, giving An Xiaohai the phone number of the company where Pan Zhuangzhuang worked.

“Good! Remember, stick to your plans, take care of yourselves, and wait for me.”

“Got it!” Lin Xuan’er nodded firmly. “Xiaohai, I finished our song. I want to sing it for you.”

“Great, it’s been so long since I heard you sing!” An Xiaohai noticed the guitar on her back.

Lin Xuan’er quickly prepared. An Xiaohai glanced at the clock—they had a little over a minute left for the visit. He wasn’t sure if she’d finish in time, but as her fingers strummed the chords, her voice began to flow:

“The wind can’t reach the seabed, 

And I’m struggling to breathe. 

Thinking of you, with feelings unknown, 

Hiding in the depths of the dark sea.”

As Lin Xuan’er sang, An Xiaohai’s eyes began to glisten. In his past life, he’d called her “like a fish in water.” She’d then asked him what he’d want to be if he could choose. He had replied that he’d want to be the wind because it was free. And so this song, “The Fish Who Loved the Wind,” was born.

In that other life, Lin Xuan’er had continued working on the song, tweaking the lyrics, but never letting him hear it. He’d found her songbook after she died, and he’d realized she’d written the whole song long ago.

“The fish cannot close its eyes, 

And I have eyes only for you. 

I loved you, so I let you go, 

My mind filled with the image of your back.”

She finished her song as time ran out. By the time An Xiaohai looked up, his mother and Lin Xuan’er were already gone. His heart ached deeply.

In his previous life, when he’d gone through Lin Xuan’er’s belongings, he’d noticed that the pages with “The Fish Who Loved the Wind” had been torn out, leaving only one line behind: “If only I really were a fish—then no one would see me cry in the ocean.”

Only now did he fully grasp the depth of Lin Xuan’er’s feelings. This foolish woman had loved him so deeply.

“Xuan’er, don’t worry. This time, I won’t let you cry again. I am the sea—An Xiaohai—and the tears you shed in the water are in my heart forever!”

A mocking, off-key voice interrupted: “My love is like the sea, waiting for you to return…” Xu Tianyou was at it again, mimicking her song.

“Shut up!” An Xiaohai whirled around, fists clenched, eyes red with anger. The cast on his arm cracked and splintered.

If Xu Tianyou dared to say one more word, An Xiaohai would make sure he’d never speak again.