Chapter 89

After the breakup, Xiang Feiran slept for the first time in years—over six hours.

It was strange; in his dream, he was rushing to catch a plane, his steps growing more hurried as he navigated through crowds.

The anxiety of “missing the plane” consumed his body, pushing him forward. If he missed this flight, he wouldn’t see Shang Mingbao for the entire week.

He had to catch it.

Waking up in a panic from the fear of missing the flight, his first instinct was to reach for his phone to check his electronic boarding pass. Instead of finding it, he felt the unfamiliar softness of the quilt.

After being fully awake for nearly five or six seconds, he finally recognized the hospital environment.

“You’re finally awake,” Fang Suining said, sitting by his bed and blinking.

She had just attended the summer theater festival in New York and came to the hospital after receiving a call from her mother about Xiang Feiran. After getting an update from his colleagues, she stayed by his side all night.

“You should probably have your health checked when you return to the country,” Fang Suining said, handing him a glass of water. “I heard from your colleagues that you vomited a lot of blood.”

At the street corner near the United Nations building, people had gathered around. Following the helpful spirit of his fellow countrymen, she approached and discovered it was him. The afternoon’s authoritative figure was now half-kneeling, one hand pressed to his chest and the other on the ground, with bright red blood that was conspicuous even in the night. His colleagues were frightened, thinking he had been robbed or shot, but there were no visible wounds.

In the chaos, he repeatedly said a name and “don’t go.”

Xiang Feiran had no memory of those scenes; he didn’t even remember which colleague had brought him in. The entire scene, including how to say goodbye, her last look, her dress—everything had completely vanished from his consciousness, turning into a jarring blank.

Xiang Feiran drank half a glass of water, glanced at the calendar, and said he had two more meetings this afternoon and needed to leave.

Fang Suining: “…”

She had stayed up all night, and Xiang Quicheng was frantic, worried that if anything happened to him, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself, having called a dozen times to check in. Now, after waking up, he wanted to go to work?

“Brother, no one says you have to stay calm and efficient even when you’re devastated, okay?” Fang Suining said with a formal smile.

“I’m not devastated.”

He said this as he tried to get out of bed, only to be easily pushed back down by Fang Suining—a simple push on his shoulder.

Fang Suining: “You’re in no condition to be stubborn.”

Xiang Feiran coughed and finished the rest of the water, saying, “I need to eat.”

Fang Suining had a caregiver fetch food and sat down at the edge of his bed, remaining silent for a while. “You can show sadness and vulnerability, Brother Feiran.”

A crack appeared in Xiang Feiran’s tough exterior: “You know?”

“Yeah.”

She knew nothing, but in her panic, she had sent a message to Shang Mingbao. When she arrived, it was late at night, and she sat by his bed.

Her actions were like a silent play. Initially, she placed her hand on his cheek, and after a long pause, leaned in, pressing her face against his, silent for a long time.

She had told Fang Suining about the breakup, who was incredulous and asked if she knew Xiang Feiran was planning a proposal. Shang Mingbao said she did, but now wasn’t the right time.

“I don’t understand you, Shang Mingbao.”

“It’s my fault; I’m not worthy of him now. Don’t tell him I came.”

Fang Suining relayed the message: “Yesterday, you looked like you were about to die, so I sent her a message. She told me you had broken up.”

A ripple finally appeared on Xiang Feiran’s pale face as he lowered his gaze. “Did she come?”

Fang Suining knew what he wanted to hear but could only cruelly lie: “No, just let me take good care of you.”

Xiang Feiran curved his lips slightly, “Thanks for your hard work.”

Fang Suining wanted to hit him: “Can you speak normally?”

Xiang Feiran was quiet for a few seconds and then said plainly, “Fang Suining, I’m quite sad.”

This was his version of speaking normally.

When he was twelve, after attending a funeral, he walked a long way up the mountain path and found him lying on the grass, basking in the sunlight. He looked like he hadn’t experienced anything. Fang Suining didn’t understand at the time; how could a twelve-year-old child understand? She asked, “Brother Feiran, aren’t you sad?” And he had said, “I’m quite sad.”

Fang Suining couldn’t help but ask, “Has she found someone else?”

But from Shang Mingbao’s behavior last night, it didn’t seem like it. She could see that Shang Mingbao still loved him.

She knew they had been in a long-term relationship, often apart, both going through the intense transition from student to adult, facing many challenges and doubts, with loneliness often accompanying setbacks. They were both so outstanding and well-off that it was not unusual for someone to take advantage of their situation, though it was regrettable.

“No,” Xiang Feiran said, “it’s an issue between us.”

“I don’t understand.”

Xiang Feiran pulled at the corner of his mouth, “When you and your ex-boyfriend broke up and got back together ten times, I didn’t understand either.”

Fang Suining didn’t expect him to retort in his state. She snorted, “Stop laughing at me; maybe you’ll break up and get back together too.”

“Not likely.”

“But you really love her.”

“I didn’t just fall in love with her from birth,” Xiang Feiran said calmly.

He wasn’t programmed from birth to be set on loving her. He simply wanted to return to a state where he didn’t love her, no matter how many mountains he had to cross.

Fang Suining stopped making jokes to lighten the mood. Just then, a nurse brought in the meal. Xiang Feiran ate a little, took two condolence calls from colleagues, and asked Fang Suining, “Really can’t you leave?”

Fang Suining pointed at the door, “Why don’t you try walking there?”

Xiang Feiran followed the suggestion, but the small single room seemed to spin with just a few steps. After steadying himself by holding onto the doorframe, he returned obediently.

“The doctor said even if you’re in good condition, you still can’t overexert yourself,” Fang Suining said, picking up a small piece of melon that came with the meal.

“Find me something to do.”

Fang Suining looked at him as if to say, “Excuse me? Play on your phone.”

“I can’t focus on reading documents right now.”

Fang Suining: “Do you even understand what ‘playing’ with a phone means?”

Xiang Feiran had no choice but to pick up his phone. The screensaver was a photo of him and Shang Mingbao. He changed it to a random landscape image from the system, opened WeChat, and saw that she was still pinned at the top. He tried several times but hesitated as the red bar for “Delete Conversation” appeared and slid back.

He still couldn’t let go.

So, he decided not to fight it and let things be. Maybe Shang Mingbao would delete him.

He began sorting his photo album. The album was well-organized, and he long-pressed the one named “Shang Mingbao,” deleting all the photos inside.

Fang Suining had a rehearsal with the theater troupe in the afternoon and left hurriedly after lunch, reminding him to not struggle and to lie down and rest.

“Take care of yourself,” she said, pointing at his nose, which Xiang Feiran frowned and brushed away. “You’re so impolite.”

Fang Suining hadn’t expected that once she left, all expression and color would disappear from Xiang Feiran’s face in an instant.

The hospital room was unbearably silent, like a pressure cooker, squeezing, enclosing, and making noise. The buzzing in his ears never ceased. To drown out this sound, Xiang Feiran turned on the wall-mounted TV, finding the most mindless and noisy show, watching it intently as if it were an academic report. Five minutes later, he got out of bed, sweating coldly, and calmly walked to the bathroom.

At the moment he leaned over the sink, a fresh wave of blood came up without warning.

It turned out that vomiting blood was real. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, Xiang Feiran would have thought his colleagues were exaggerating and Fang Suining was embellishing the truth.

Why was he vomiting blood? He thought everything was fine, that the agonizing pain last night was just a momentary thing. He felt calm now, his mindset steady. The loss of Shang Mingbao, which used to haunt him every night, didn’t seem so bad when it actually happened.

Why was he vomiting blood?

The sink still had the water marks left by Fang Suining washing his hands. The blood, slightly darker than last night, was gradually being diluted.

Xiang Feiran looked at it with unfamiliar detachment and turned the faucet to the maximum.

The white porcelain basin was restored to its cleanliness. He looked up, saw the blood on the corner of his mouth, and expressionlessly wiped it with his thumb.

Two days later, after the entire conference schedule ended, Xiang Feiran returned to his home country with the team. Before going back, there was a gathering near West 56th Street. By a twist of fate, he went upstairs to the apartment he and Shang Mingbao had once lived in.

The Christmas tree that couldn’t be lit, the three-day snowstorm, the little ducks in the fridge, the twenty-four plants grown from mud on his shoes and pants, all meticulously killed by Shang Mingbao. On the windowsill with a view of the Hudson River, he had kissed his beloved girl for the first time.

If this were a TV drama, perhaps they would have coincidentally met new guests moving in, or workers removing the old mattress. They might have exchanged a few words, and he would have mentioned that he had lived here before. But there was none of that. The door was tightly closed, and only the doorplate had been replaced with a new style.

Xiang Feiran took one last deep look before leaving.

He didn’t know that on the day he was in the hospital, Fang Suining had received a call from Shang Mingbao during rehearsal. She asked about his condition, and Fang Suining said it was just a matter of stress, and that a full examination could wait until he was back in the country.

She could hear Shang Mingbao’s worry, self-blame, and her suppressed desire to talk more about Xiang Feiran.

Fang Suining wasn’t without temper. She wanted to harshly scold her, accuse her, and ask if she knew Xiang Feiran had even picked out a ring, the price of which could take her from New York to Paris again. But Fang Suining restrained herself because she couldn’t argue about something she didn’t fully understand.

She also wanted to ask Shang Mingbao if she would regret it. Xiang Feiran, after perfecting something, would either make it or break it. He wouldn’t wait around—did she fully and accurately understand this aspect of him before making her decision?

On that afternoon, Fang Suining’s rehearsal hall was bathed in sunlight and dust. Outside Xiang Feiran’s hospital room, a figure lingered for a long time.

She wanted so much to go in, ask him casually how he was, and tell him to take care of himself. Pretend that the past two years had never happened, that she had never hurt him, and she would march forward with unwavering belief in him, with a solemn church as the path ahead.

---

After returning to the country, Xiang Feiran’s first action was to confront Xiang Weishan and declare that he would leave the company.

In the two months, he hadn’t been deeply involved, so it was not about responsibility, but Xiang Weishan was very angry and smashed an ashtray in the office.

Xiang Feiran stayed still, only tilting his head to avoid it.

“Don’t you worry at all about being outdone by her? Even without the Wu family, she has plenty of choices. With your meager salary—”

Xiang Feiran frowned and interrupted, “We’re breaking up. Stop talking nonsense.”

Xiang Weishan had never expected their breakup to be so swift.

He felt regretful, thinking that if Shang Mingbao could have loved him a little longer, if the rumors about the Wu family had been more intense, he could have manipulated him, strategized, and controlled him better. Given time, it would have been impossible for him to escape.

A few days later, Zheng Ao came to see him, bringing Shining with him.

Children grow up so quickly; in the blink of an eye, she was already stumbling around and holding onto Xiang Feiran’s pant leg.

She was quite cute. Xiang Feiran crouched down, poking her chin with his fingertips, his face expressionless.

The nanny behind them was getting anxious, worried that Shining might cry, thinking that this was no way to comfort a child. But Shining climbed into his arms, wanting to be held, and asked in a babyish voice, “Can I give you a kiss?”

A kiss was her highest form of affection, a level of closeness none of Zheng Ao’s students received.

Xiang Feiran said, “No.”

As he spoke, he lifted his hand to cover the child’s face with his palm. Shining cried and fussed for a while, but the man in front of her remained unmoved, gently saying, “Stop it.”

Zheng Ao laughed, taking his daughter back into his arms. “In the future, if Shining becomes rebellious, maybe she’ll come to you for discipline.”

After chatting for a while, she naturally steered the conversation to her desired topic. “Actually, it’s still completely feasible for you to change direction now. I’ve seen your lab’s projects; three years should be enough to complete them, and you could gradually learn during that time.”

Zheng Ao spoke persuasively, as if talking to a student, “Even if not for your mother, think about your own ideals and the health of humanity. There are so many unsolved problems in life sciences; solving any one of them could benefit millions, even billions, of people and their descendants.”

She gently looked at Shining in her arms and then back into Xiang Feiran’s eyes, sincerely saying, “Feiran, I know botany is not your primary goal. Don’t let your mother’s tragedy trap you.”

Xiang Feiran was indifferent, his attitude as cold as usual. He asked, “Even if I wanted to return to this field, with so many pharmaceutical companies and labs worldwide, why should I come back to ‘Weishan Life’?”

Zheng Ao was taken aback and left speechless by his question.

“Please leave. I’m not interested in joining your equity battle.”

With the card exposed, there was no more fun to be had. Zheng Ao could only shake her head in disappointment, her tone a bit heavy. “Feiran, I truly feel sorry for you.”

This time, Xiang Feiran genuinely smiled, chuckling. Hands in his pockets, he said, “Who gave you the arrogance to think that humans are superior to animals and animals superior to plants? The impact factor?”

The four PhD students and postdocs were overjoyed with the PI’s return to the lab, regardless of Xiang Feiran’s opinion. They insisted on celebrating him.

Xiang Feiran was first tricked out of the lab, then out of the building, and finally forcibly stuffed into a taxi. His postdoc friends pounded the seat, urging the driver to start moving.

The driver complied, speeding away with a heavy foot on the gas.

They went to a nearby mall for dinner. The four of them insisted on treating, eating a table full of expensive, exquisite pre-prepared dishes, and in the end, Xiang Feiran paid the bill.

Returning to the park, he let the taxi stop at the gate and walked back slowly.

With the confirmation of cooperation with Ghent, someone needed to be sent to Belgium for a year. All four of them wanted to go, but each had their own concerns, and Lin Xi seized the opportunity. Her email and resume had been at Ghent for over two months. She had also been wrapping up her current work but had rarely seen Xiang Feiran in the lab, making it hard for her to find a chance to ask him.

She finally did. “Have you heard back from Ghent?”

Xiang Feiran nodded. “Next month. You can familiarize yourself with the projects there in advance.”

Lin Xi felt there was something different about him, though she couldn’t pinpoint what. She felt… Xiang Feiran was like a shadow living. Although he was still calm, concise, and straightforward as before, there was an added sense of detachment. This detachment made him gentler but also colder than before.

She observed Xiang Feiran for several days, staying late one night. It was already past ten, but Xiang Feiran showed no sign of leaving. Lin Xi mustered her courage and asked, “Xiang Bo, have you broken up with Mingbao?”

Xiang Feiran, in front of his computer, visibly paused. His voice was flat as he replied, “Don’t pry into your advisor’s private life.”

Lin Xi immediately confirmed it and thought she should tell him to drink less—

She noticed the whiskey on Xiang Feiran’s desk was running out quickly.

A few days later was Shang Mingbao’s birthday. Lin Xi knew this because he had mentioned it once back when he was at Columbia University, and she remembered it for some reason.

Sure enough, she found him by the lotus pond, where he would come to sit and think when he encountered research obstacles.

The slope was a bit steep, and the lotus leaves were dotted with dewdrops, sparkling under the moonlight.

Lin Xi stood behind him for a while. When he noticed her, he asked, “Is there something?”

“No, I was just worried you might drink too much and fall in and drown.”

Xiang Feiran curled his lips. “Nervous.”

He picked up the beer bottle and got up, walking up the slope under the moonlight.

“I have a few more questions about Ghent, a bit confusing.”

Xiang Feiran leaned against a tree, arms crossed, holding the bottle of brown glass beer as if it were a sword.

“Ask away.” He closed his eyes, not sure if he was resting or just drunk and sleepy.

The moonlight illuminated his face, casting faint shadows on his deeply chiseled features.

Lin Xi asked several questions. Xiang Feiran answered some quickly and needed to think about others. He said, “I’ll tell you when I’m sober tomorrow.”

Lin Xi couldn’t help but smile, braving it to say, “Today is her birthday. I was quite worried about you.”

“No need. I won’t drown.”

“Well, I see you’re okay.”

Except for drinking too quickly, the data was running faster too, leaving the four of them in tears, wondering if he aimed to become an academician before fifty.

After a moment of silence, she seemed to jest, “Will you still like someone else in the future?”

“Depends on fate.”

His remark made her understand that, in his past, there was no other fate that made him linger. His destiny could only be with someone new.

“Actually…” Lin Xi shrugged and sighed, “I thought you two would be together forever. I never imagined you’d lose her.”

Xiang Feiran was quiet for a moment. “I did lose her.”

He said this as if to himself, a straightforward statement. The pain in his heart was inevitable, but his expression remained calm, only his brows furrowing slightly.

Lin Xi didn’t know what to say. An uneasy silence fell between them. After a while, she looked at him leaning against the tree with his eyes closed, listening to his breathing, and wondered if he had fallen asleep.

He had indeed fallen asleep. His body tilted, and it looked like he was about to fall over. Lin Xi called out, “Xiang Bo!”

She could have helped him, but she only took a half step forward. After years of hesitation, her reluctance was deeply ingrained.

Xiang Feiran didn’t have time to react and ended up bumping his head against the tree trunk, causing the shadow of the tree to waver slightly.

“…”

Xiang Feiran covered his forehead, paused in place for a moment, and then pretended nothing had happened, saying, “Let’s go, time to go to sleep.”

The PhD student dormitory and the faculty building were in different directions. They walked along the asphalt path under the tree shadows for a while. At the fork in the road, Xiang Feiran nodded to her and headed in his own direction.

After a few steps, he stopped, looked back halfway, and said, “Lin Xi.”

His eyes were shaded by shadows, his nose tip illuminated by moonlight, and his profile was smooth.

“Yes!” Lin Xi responded.

“Do well in Ghent, or don’t even say you’re my student.”

Lin Xi was stunned, then nodded vigorously and responded with an “Mm.”

The day came when she had to leave the lab. She completed all her tasks, handed over her progress clearly, took off her lab coat, and from one of the square pockets, she took out a small bottle of medication.

Sismin.

Since she learned about his allergy to shellfish, she had carried this with her. She had never used it.

Sismin was everything about her silent affection.

Shang Mingbao’s birthday was celebrated in New York.

Every year, her birthday was marked by numerous parties and events, with brands queuing up to host small birthday parties for her. Each event was meticulously planned, featuring limited-edition designs, gentle blessings, and silk-gloved hands presenting her with jewelry or arranging her gown, pointing out custom embroidery and its meanings. Having spent so much time with these brands, they were like friends, and Shang Mingbao rarely turned them down.

Sometimes, her friends in Hong Kong complained, wondering why she didn’t return to Hong Kong during the summer vacation and what was so special about New York that made her stay.

During her years studying in New York, after growing apart from Liao Yuno, Shang Mingbao had only organized one birthday party herself. Two classmates from Hong Kong visited her, and two more from Europe came to join the fun. Sophie then organized a party at a vacation villa in the Hamptons.

At American parties, the number of people always inexplicably increased, and by the end, no one knew who was who, or who was the host or the guest of honor. The main focus was on drinking heavily.

That day, Xiang Feiran was there, but he didn’t appear in front of anyone. Shang Mingbao escaped her friends’ attempts to get her drunk and their probing questions, seeking him out with the smell of cream cake and alcohol.

The place was chaotic; in every room she entered, she found people kissing. After going through all three floors of the villa, she pushed Xiang Feiran against the wall in the stairwell and couldn’t stop laughing.

The walls were covered in green vertical stripes, and the gilded wall lamps cast a gentle glow. The air was thick with the musty smell of wood affected by sea breezes.

In her own birthday party, in her own house, not finding a quiet corner to talk and kiss her boyfriend, how could she not laugh?

Shang Mingbao laughed so hard she could barely stand, and Xiang Feiran had to support her helplessly. He teased her, saying their doctoral circle had never seen such a scene.

In reality, he was feeling jealous, suddenly noticing so many conspicuous young men around her.

Eventually, they stopped at a corner outside the villa, out of breath and slightly tipsy. They kissed intermittently, exchanged trivial words, and listened to the sound of the waves on the coast.

That night had no stars. Shang Mingbao vividly remembered the clouds gathering and dispersing, revealing a few distant stars, but none could compare to the way Xiang Feiran looked at her.

The villa was incredibly noisy. She held his hand, looked up at him, and asked if he could meet her friends and close ones.

It was their second year together. Both were troubled by his refusal to marry and her desire for an arranged marriage. Despite their deep feelings for each other, they took a step back for each other’s sake.

One asked, “Would it be inconvenient?”

The other replied, “Mm, maybe we can discuss it later.”

It seemed like a small reflection of the disconnection that had persisted between them for years.

After that party, Shang Mingbao never organized another. Her third birthday was spent in the frozen tundra of Rocky Mountain National Park. The thin air and altitude alleviated the summer heat, making it feel like spring.

Indeed, Xiang Feiran had meticulously planned this trip, driving her there to escape the unbearable heat of the plains in July. Here, amidst the wildflowers, it was a kingdom of colors—apart from the vast sky and land, it was uniquely hers.

Above the tree line, on the grassy slopes, forest edges, and the perennial frozen ground, the Arctic gentian bloomed in clusters, low and sprawling, with its white-green flowers looking both delightful and resilient. Gazing across the wildflower slope, the surrounding mountains towered, the snowy fields stretched out magnificently, and the lichen on the rocks displayed a mottled dark red.