Chapter 34

Things that one has never seen, one cannot believe in their existence.

Even religious consolations must come with miracles.

Xiang Feiran has never seen a lifelong love nor has he witnessed a so-called perfect marriage.

He has only seen relationships that falter halfway through.

He remembers from childhood that Tan Shuo Yue and Xiang Weishan had a good relationship, “Under the moon, Xiang Weishan, it is Feiran.” This was the name that the moon gave him because he was the fruit of their love.

Xiang Weishan was an abandoned baby picked up by Xiang Lianqiao. Besides him, Xiang Lianqiao had only one daughter. He and his wife treated both children equally as if they were their own. Xiang Weishan was exceptionally gifted and entered a top university, becoming a rising academic star of that era.

Tan Shuoyue’s background was comparable to Xiang Weishan’s; her father was a comrade of Xiang Lianqiao. However, before their parents arranged the marriage, they had already met and fallen in love at school. Thus, their marriage could be seen as a model of both free love and matching social status.

After completing their master’s degrees, the couple married and both went to the United States for doctoral studies, each striving for their own ideals. Xiang Weishan founded a biotechnology company, staying at the forefront of the times, while Tan Tan Yue immersed herself in the mountains and plains, completing her botanical science art album and systematic classification of ferns.

For a long time, they were regarded by peers and mentors as a match made in heaven. It wasn’t until later that Xiang Weishan’s biological parents found him.

Destiny proves that some people can indeed have both fish and bear’s paws—Xiang Weishan’s original background was not insignificant; he came from a wealthy merchant family, and the abandonment was due to other hidden reasons. When he returned to his family, it was during a period of internal turmoil within the family group. As the nominal “heir,” he faced a choice between a win-win marriage alliance, where the other party offered a substantial investment through marriage, and secured a high position in the family’s hierarchy, or maintaining his position and gaining a large investment in the biotechnology market.

Xiang Weishan naturally chose divorce and the marriage alliance.

Tan Yue’s father had passed away, and her family had little influence. Although Xiang Lianqiao was angry about the situation, he respected people too much and acted with too much dignity.

Dignified people can never compete with those who lack scruples.

Xiang Weishan deceived the moon for a long time, expressing his difficulties and how he was constrained while professing unwavering love for her. When it comes to losing in the month, her parents had taught her too well, instilling in her too much grace and sincerity. She could not understand that for a man like Xiang Weishan, who grew up as an “adopted orphan,” ambition was like a dog that swallows the moon.

For a few years, Xiang Feiran could not understand the definition of his parents and family, not grasping why Tan Shuo Yue, as the first wife, lived like an intruder. Tan Tan Yue and Xiang Weishan met no more than four times a month, and Xiang Feiran was usually present. Once, when he went to see Xiang Weishan alone for a certain document, he overheard his wife complaining, “Doesn’t your annoying ex-wife ever stop?”

Xiang Feiran followed Tan Tanyue around, watching her increasingly frequent trips into the wilderness. Only when she was among plants did she genuinely smile. She rarely talked to him about Xiang Weishan. Even when she did, she was very gentle and factual about it. She would accompany him to look at the latest publications from Xiang Weishan’s laboratory, take him to school, and help him verify his father’s team’s experiments.

Xiang Feiran was exceptionally talented. Winning a gold medal in biology during his first year of high school was expected. At that time, he was arrogant, and although he never explicitly stated it, he gradually adopted Xiang Weishan’s perspective: there was no practical significance. With such high talent, one should climb the bitter heights of scientific research, tackling challenges rather than studying flowers and plants in a lukewarm manner.

“But flowers and plants are beautiful. Look, this is an amber flower from a hundred million years ago. In terms of the dimension of life, does it really have less significance than the structure of proteins?”

When he said this, her face was blurred in the moonlight and had also become blurred in Xiang Feiran’s memory. The mother he later remembered was like gray rocks after snow melted.

If someone asked Xiang Feiran what his sixteen was like, he would be silent, as silent as his sixteen.

That year, the life of the month was forever left in the mist and snow of Liushi Beach, along with a partially recorded work manual, a scientific drawing of a gorgeous gentian with only a draft completed, and some gentian specimens and fresh samples that had not yet been sorted.

“I’m telling you, this flower is super cute. It blooms in the sun and closes up when it’s cloudy.” Before changing her research focus, she marveled and joked with him, “Studying ferns is like studying dinosaurs, and studying gentians is like studying young girls.”

Regarding Tan Tanyue’s passing, Xiang Weishan’s reaction was very indifferent. After the funeral, Xiang Feiran saw his father exhale deeply, looking up at the sky. He didn’t know if that brief exhalation held any memories of their shared youthful aspirations.

Xiang Weishan showed hostility towards Yue Zhan only after Xiang Feiran had revealed his interest in botany. With the person now deceased, Xiang Weishan spoke harshly, claiming that the moon had “ruined” him.

He took Xiang Feiran to visit his laboratory, which collaborated with top academic institutions. He introduced him to the postdocs and PhD students in his team, presented a long list of first-class research groups he sponsored, and told him that if he followed the path he had arranged, all of this would eventually be his. He promised to take him to great heights and make his name known throughout history.

However, Xiang Feiran’s response was to reject the offer from Qingbei notice.

Xiang Weishan was furious and said he was crazy. Xiang Feiran merely replied coldly, “I feel disgusted staying where you once were.”

Xiang Weishan had considered using a sum of money—even a small amount—to sponsor the research group at Xiang Feiran’s undergraduate institution, just to disgust him. But he ultimately did not. Life was long, and as long as Xiang Feiran pursued a path in life sciences, he would have ample opportunities to “correct” him.

Later, he took his company public in Hong Kong, enjoying great success; he set up camp in the remote mountains, enduring solitude.

Xiang Weishan had already married his third wife. His second ex-wife had cashed out a billion and left quietly, while his third wife brought hundreds of patents as part of her stake. His romantic exploits became well-known stories, with people saying that even when Xiang Weishan was a postdoc at Harvard, he had feelings for her—she was his junior and half-student. It was quite laughable since Xiang Weishan was still with Tan Shuo Yue at that time.

The truth no longer mattered; Xiang Feiran had never sought to verify it.

He only knew that Xiang Weishan hated Tan Shuo Yue, to the point of disgust and aversion.

The deeper he delved into botany, the more his father despised his mother.

At an academic conference in late October, he encountered a student who had participated in the same Olympiad as him years ago.

He didn’t remember the person well, as there had been too many competitors over the years, not worth remembering individually. But the other party clearly remembered him well enough to accurately find him during the tea break: “Xiang Feiran.”

Xiang Feiran merely responded with a polite nod. Few people called him by his full name, and he guessed the person was an old acquaintance from home.

The other person kept staring at him but made a great effort to appear indifferent and nonchalant: “It really is you. You’ve come to America as well. How’s the food at Columbia?”

A smart person wouldn’t miss the contradiction between these two statements. He shrugged and added, “I heard you were in America before, but you’ve been so low-key. You don’t seem like the person I know; I thought it was fake.”

Anyone from the same year couldn’t forget his arrogance. Back then, he competed while memorizing drum sheet music and solving problems. For those in the same cohort, the name “Xiang Feiran” was both a shadow and an aspiration.

After the news of his rejection by Qingbei was confirmed, a theory gradually spread: the more arrogant a person is, the more fragile they are. The pressure was too much for him, leading to a mental breakdown and ruin. This is a tragic ending, and it was the only reasonable explanation they could come up with.

Xiang Feiran found his name on his conference badge, smiled slightly, and greeted him casually.

In just two sentences, the other party deliberately or inadvertently let him know that he was pursuing a Ph.D. at Harvard under a Nobel Prize-winning mentor.

Before leaving, the Harvard Ph.D. student, with his hands in his pockets, seemed to have gained a sense of relaxation that had been delayed for years. He said to Xiang Feiran, “Boston winters are unbearably cold. New York can still see the autumn colors now, which is quite nice. It suits you. By the way, you’re welcome to come by for a drink.”

That day, New York had just experienced its last mid-October rain. The golden ginkgo leaves covered the streets. Xiang Feiran walked out of the revolving door of the conference hotel and slowly headed toward the subway station against the flow of people as if walking against a golden avenue.

Shang Mingbao felt a bit cold; her slender legs were almost painfully cold. But she maintained a seemingly indifferent smile and asked, “Why are you an anti-marriage advocate? Is it just a trend?”

Shang Mingbao’s question was naive and typical. To declare oneself an advocate of some ideology before even reaching marriageable age is indeed laughably immature and appears too superficial to withstand the test of reality.

“If you meet a girl you really love in the future, would you still be an anti-marriage advocate?” Shang Mingbao could hardly stand, slightly leaning with her hand on the wall.

The light in the restroom illuminated her body and skin in a pure, bright white.

Xiang Feiran looked at her, wanting to tell her that although it’s too early to talk about love, she was indeed the girl he liked very much. However, yes, he still was an anti-marriage advocate.

He chose the briefest reply: “Yes.”

“Why?” Shang Mingbao repeated the question, becoming somewhat perplexed. “If you like someone, don’t you want to start a family with her, raise children together, and grow old together?”

“Some anti-marriage advocates can do that too—live together, have children, and if fortunate, grow old together.”

“But isn’t it different to actually get married, have a wedding, and have a certificate? Isn’t that different?” Shang Mingbao’s frowning forehead revealed her bright and clear eyes.

She was trying so hard to understand his rules.

“Yes, it’s different,” Xiang Feiran said, his cigarette between his fingers unmoved for a long time, “So, this should be disclosed before starting.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

Xiang Feiran finally realized something was wrong with her. He had just answered this question; now, breaking it down into detailed sentences:

“Shang Mingbao, you know you can’t make major life decisions on your own, so you don’t want to start anything with me because you’re kind and don’t want to hurt me. You don’t want to end up unable to even be friends or brothers. What you said at the subway entrance that day, I said I understood. Do you understand now?”

In the swirling smoke, he quietly looked into her eyes: “I know your background, and I understand our impossibility better than you. I wasn’t deliberately hiding it from you; it’s just that we couldn’t even reach the stage of discussing views on marriage.”

After speaking, he smiled slightly: “There was never a possibility of discussing this. To seriously bring it up to you now would seem somewhat self-indulgent.”

It’s like telling someone not to spend too much on your birthday in advance, but in reality, the person doesn’t even remember when your birthday is.

Shang Mingbao turned her face away, taking a step forward. “I don’t understand. I don’t get it.”

She wanted to go back and sleep; she was so cold that her skin and flesh ached, and her knees felt like they were freezing.

Xiang Feiran stood up, his cigarette between his fingers. Taking a step closer, he grasped her wrist gently in his hand. “Mingbao.”

Shang Mingbao lifted her face, her eyes wide and her expression blank and confused.

“This is a good thing for you, isn’t it?” Xiang Feiran controlled his urge to caress her palm and spoke calmly. “Don’t think about me. If you think I’m still okay and worth a try, then that’s fine.”

Shang Mingbao couldn’t gauge the mood in which he said this because he appeared expressionless in the dim light, giving off a sense of cruel coldness.

Noticing that she was shivering under his hand, Xiang Feiran picked up the T-shirt he had thrown over the back of the chair and put it on, then picked her up horizontally. “You’re wearing too little. Let’s get you warmed up.”

Shang Mingbao nestled against his broad chest, shrinking into a small bundle. Breathing in the scent of him after a cold water shower, she shivered even more.

The distance to the bed was short, just a few steps, not enough for her to absorb his body heat.

At the bedside, Xiang Feiran set her down on the ground, his arm tightening around her as he embraced her once more.

The warmth of his self-mocking smile fell near her ear: “Could this be the last time I hold you?”

Late at night is not a good time for decisions, as it is when people are at their most foolish. He shouldn’t force her while he’s caught up in the heat of the moment. Even if she were to date him until the end of time, what difference would it make? In his heart, he had already considered her his girlfriend.

In the end, he didn’t really believe she would agree with him.

Shang Mingbao lifted her cold toes, raising her hands to wrap around his neck.

She held on tighter than ever before, and Xiang Feiran stiffened momentarily, feeling as if something had scraped across his heart. Before he could react, he found himself holding her even more tightly.

By the time he lay back on the sofa, feeling the dull pain rise from his heart with each pulse, it was already too late. His limbs and body felt numb with pain.

They were not on the same path; it was understandable and inevitable that she could not comprehend the path he had chosen. This was the end of their fate.

Xiang Feiran closed his eyes and silently repeated this thought three times in his mind.

The next morning, he left a note next to the sandwich Simon had made, telling her there were no cherry tomatoes in it and she could eat it without worry. Before leaving, he wanted to push open the door and take one last look at her; if possible, he wanted to kiss her cheek. But since she hadn’t agreed to him yet, and if she slept poorly or liked to sleep naked, his uninvited intrusion would seem very inappropriate.

Xiang Feiran ultimately did not go in. Instead, he quietly dressed, put on his backpack, and left with Simon.

Simon had bought a second-hand car, but Xiang Feiran never asked him for a ride. He preferred to bike through the streets, and for that, he had specifically collected a map of New York’s bike paths, becoming intimately familiar with hundreds of bike routes over the past two years.

Arriving at Columbia University, he went straight to see Professor Tryon before returning to the research office. To welcome him back and celebrate the upcoming Christmas holiday, they had a lunch gathering. The afternoon was spent in group reports and meetings.

The series of events were tight and packed; by the time he could finally relax, it was already three in the afternoon.

His phone had been quiet all day. Shang Mingbao hadn’t sent him any messages.

Lin Xi came to find him with a computer, hoping to discuss her master’s thesis ideas. At the end, she hesitated and said, “Xiang Bo, that girl came here the other day. I happened to run into her.”

“Which one?”

“Not Fang Suining, a very beautiful one, the day of the dinner…”

“Shang Mingbao.”

“Yes,” Lin Xi nodded, carefully observing his expression. “I told her about your anti-marriage stance. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but later, I thought her expression seemed a bit shocked. …Did I cause you trouble?”

Since it was a well-known fact around Xiang Feiran, and following the topic from that day, she had been too quick to speak, realizing afterward that it might have been inappropriate.

Xiang Feiran was taken aback. So it was her who said it. Although he hadn’t expected it, it no longer mattered.

He asked, “Which day?”

Lin Xi thought for a moment and gave him the date. It was indeed before the phone call to the supply town.

No wonder.

That phone call had been ambiguously sweet, occupying all his thoughts and dreams for the next five days.

Xiang Feiran reassured the intern, “It’s fine. She would have found out sooner or later.”

Lin Xi was about to leave when her small voice came from behind, “Why did she come here that day? Looking for me?”

Asking this question, Xiang Feiran picked up his silver metal mug, making it seem like a casual inquiry.

“Not at all,” Lin Xi laughed. “She’s not your girlfriend, so why would she look for you? She was with a tall guy, Chinese-looking, a bit fierce.”

Xiang Feiran guessed it was Wu Boyan and simply held the cup’s handle without reacting.

Even by dinner time, there were still no messages from Shang Mingbao. Xiang Feiran sent a message: “Busy today?”

All the absent-mindedness of the day was condensed into these four seemingly indifferent words.

Ten minutes later, he received a reply from Shang Mingbao.

She only replied with an “Hmm,” and there was no further information.