The cup in Yan Xi’s hand trembled slightly, splashing a few drops of tea. He looked at her, his gaze unconcealed: “A-Heng, what about you? What do you think of me? In your eyes, am I gay?”

Yan Xi spoke those three words casually, his expression showing no great waves.

He smiled placidly, clear mockery in his eyes.

A-Heng’s cup slipped from her hand – the finely crafted porcelain shattered, and even its broken edges were delicately smooth.

She lowered her head, dazed. Gay, ah gay, how could you say it so casually? Then, her mind wandered – a broken cup isn’t a good omen, ah, for a lifetime… looks quite expensive, how much would it cost to replace…

The shopkeeper, being business-savvy, hurried over to replace the cup. Yan Xi looked at the sky through the wooden window and said it wasn’t necessary, pulled out several crisp bills from his wallet to hand to him, grabbed A-Heng’s hand, and plunged into the dusk.

Not looking back, steps very quick, very quick.

A-Heng’s sleeve was crumpled in his grip. She said: “Yan Xi, let go, quickly let go, I’m getting angry.”

In that sunset, the youth with the clean, fair neck, caught in the hazy golden light, pulled her along as he began to run.

If this were a different scene, given young master Yan’s avant-garde nature, fearing not others’ words but only that no one was watching, he should have swept up Miss Wen in his arms and declared passionately: “What’s Lu Liu to me? I can’t even see him. The one I love most in this world is my baby.”

Or in another scene, following the truth that good literature must be tragic, young Yan should perhaps have said with infinite complexity and depth: “A-Heng, I… can’t forget Lu Liu.” Of course, Miss Wen would have to silently shed tears and say “I wish you happiness.”

Ahem, unfortunately, none of the above happened.

Young Yan didn’t say a word, he just pulled at A-Heng’s hand… ah, no, her sleeve, running forward with all his might.

Under the setting sun, both of them were panting like bulls, only letting go when they reached their old high school gate.

A-Heng’s legs were about to give out. Between breaths, she pointed at Yan Xi: “You’ve gone mad! Who said anything about you? I just said I don’t like Lu Liu, what, did that hit a nerve?”

Her tone was like aged Shanxi vinegar.

But Yan Xi lowered his head, gently releasing her sleeve, and smiled: “Walk with me a bit, I’m thinking about those years before.”

A-Heng looked at the gleaming gold school sign at the west gate, stunned for a moment. His clumsy attempt to change the subject dispersed half of her anger and frustration. She nodded: “Alright, it’s been a long time since we’ve been inside.”

The teaching building stood quiet in the fading daylight, the breeze gentle, the grass lush and green. Not far away on the basketball court, several young boys with traces of youth and innocence were playing basketball – muscles, sweat, fist bumps, a cheer, a shot, three points.

Yan Xi fell back onto the grass in a spread-eagle position, gently closing his eyes, a peaceful smile at the corner of his lips.

The word “peaceful” describing him was somewhat incongruous. A-Heng looked down at him from above, her eyes gentle, curved into a smile.

He said: “Yesterday, I had a dream.”

A-Heng asked: “What dream?”

“I married you, and we had a child. You gave him a very beautiful name, but unfortunately, I can’t remember it. Then, our family of three lived in a house with a European fireplace and Persian carpet. He was still very small, sitting on the carpet and playing with toys. We called him for dinner, but no matter how we called, he couldn’t hear us. Then, I woke up.”

A-Heng propped her chin with her hand, smiling: “Ha, how unlucky am I, not only stuck with you for life but even gave birth to a deaf child.”

Yan Xi opened his eyes, gazing at the sunset-filled sky: “But, you didn’t see, that child was really beautiful, had my eyes, and your mouth.”

That smile was as gentle as the first dewdrop in the morning sunlight.

A-Heng’s face reddened slightly, feeling that even the summer sun at dusk was still truly summer-like – how could it be so scorching?

He stood up, patting the grass off his back. Not far away on the basketball court, someone hit the ball off course, and it rolled in their direction.

Yan Xi raised an eyebrow, picked up the basketball, and walked a few steps closer, squinting at the hoop. That posture, that style, looking impressively like some suddenly appearing basketball god, he took a gentle shot.

Golden light flashing, flashing, flashing, Yan Xi felt himself radiating golden light.

Then… ahem, the ball hit the rim.

Yan Xi covered his face, completely baffled – how could he have missed… how could it be possible, how could it be possible…

The group of young men on the basketball court burst into laughter.

A-Heng was embarrassed.

Yan Xi coughed: “I heard the school history museum was rebuilt, let’s go take a look, I think they have your photo inside.”

A-Heng exclaimed: “How could they have mine?”

Yan Xi smiled: “They have photos of every year’s top scorer since the school was founded.”

A-Heng went to look, half-believing, and sure enough, in the second-to-last frame inside the glass window was her photo.

“Ah, it’s this one.” She looked at the photo, rubbing her brow, somewhat embarrassed.

It was the winter of their third year, those days when he had just recovered from illness. She had bought a roasted sweet potato, and Yan Xi, who usually didn’t eat sweets, somehow insisted on sharing it with her that day. He had broken off half and was munching on it when their homeroom teacher said they needed photos for the school information collection. They hadn’t finished eating the sweet potato before taking the photo, and in the picture, both had rings of “mustaches” around their mouths.

Yan Xi pointed at the photo and laughed: “A-Heng, look, this is our photo together.”

A-Heng was puzzled, squinting. Behind her was a somewhat unclear figure in a school uniform, captured in the same frame, still holding a half-eaten golden sweet potato.

She seemed easier to possess then than now.

Light flickered in his eyes as he bent down slightly, vigorously wiping the glass until that silly girl’s face became increasingly clear.

He gazed at it as if contemplating something beloved, and after a while, broke into a smile: “A-Heng, you were uncommonly silly then, whatever anyone said, as long as they said it in Beijing dialect more fluently than you, you’d believe it.”

He often teased her, fourteen is fourteen, forty is forty, fourteen isn’t forty, forty isn’t fourteen; the bench is long, the carrying pole is wide…

The silly girl who grew up in the South couldn’t distinguish between similar sounds, until finally, her little face turned skyward, confused about whether it was fourteen-forty or forty-fourteen.

A-Heng sighed in defeat: “Yan Xi, you’re just counting on me not being angry with you—”

Before she could finish, he gently kissed the photo of that silly girl.

He kissed her forehead, praying for eternal love. He pointed at the nose of the person in the photo, saying “Silly.”

The smile was innocent – silly, silly, little silly one.

A-Heng watched him quietly, her heart somewhat sour.

She wanted to say, Yan Xi, why do you always look backward in life?

When he has A-Heng, he can’t let go of Lu Liu; when he has Lu Liu, he can’t let go of A-Heng; when he has the present A-Heng, he can’t let go of the A-Heng in his memories.

But how can there be a perfect solution in this world, to not betray the past or yourself?

It was time again for Father Wen’s death anniversary.

A-Heng always had nightmares when she slept, the roar of the airplane taking off gradually becoming clear, hitting turbulence, flying toward heaven.

“Dad, don’t take the plane, Mom won’t allow it. She’ll scold me when we get back, Dad…”

“Tomorrow is your mom’s birthday, I haven’t celebrated her birthday for many years. This year I must get back to give her a surprise. Besides, silly girl, if you don’t tell and I don’t tell, how would your mom know?”

“Mom said not.”

“Tomorrow is your mom’s birthday.”

“Mom said—”

“Alright, whichever of us father and daughter reveals it first when we get back, they’ll be punished – ah, banned from entering the house for two years.”

“Well, alright, pinky swear.”

“That’s children’s stuff, your father is a man of his word, no need for pinky swears. Haha, such a big surprise, your mom will be happy.”

When A-Heng opened her eyes, the morning sunlight was just right.

The roar of the airplane faded away, and when she touched her temples, they were covered in sweat.

She changed into fresh clothes and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Yan Xi walked in with dark circles under his eyes. Disregarding her anger, he had again spent half the night drinking.

A-Heng felt terrible, but what difference would it make even if she said she hated Lu Liu? She had never been able to bring herself to force him into anything, she just wanted to see what position she held in his heart.

A-Heng said: “Yan Xi, stop drinking, it’s bad for your health.”

He splashed water on his face: “No one cares if Yan Xi drinks, but when General Yan’s grandson drinks to give face, people pay attention.” Through the sound of running water, his voice was somewhat cold. “You’re a girl, don’t concern yourself with these things.”

A-Heng said: “I wasn’t planning to interfere, but the other day I saw on TV that nationwide deaths from alcohol-related hepatitis have increased by several percentage points. I’m afraid you’ll die early.”

Yan Xi lowered his head, water droplets hanging from his hair, and smiled gently: “Yesterday… when I came back yesterday, I saw someone selling candied hawthorns on the street, bought you a string, put them in the glass vase on the coffee table, go eat them.”

A-Heng ran over – due to the heat, they had melted overnight, leaving sugary syrup all over the table, like red tears.

She sighed inwardly – this fool with no common sense, wanting to care for someone but never learning how.

She took a bite – so sour her teeth hurt.

Yan Xi frowned: “Can’t eat them? Throw them away.”

A-Heng shook her head: “It’s rare for you to give me anything.”

His hand holding the towel to his face froze for a moment. He turned his head away, whatever was in his eyes, others probably couldn’t see. He said: “Today is Uncle Wen’s death anniversary, come back to the Wen house with me to visit.”

A-Heng had a hawthorn stuck in her mouth, so sour tears were falling.

But Yan Xi took a tissue and pulled her into his embrace: “Why cry? If they don’t like you it’s because their minds are confused. Uncle Wen was clear-headed, among all his children, he loved you most.”

The tears in A-Heng’s eyes were like ice shards, painful and piercing. She said softly: “But the very one who loved me, I ended up causing his death.”

Yan Xi laughed lightly: “You’re so honest, not even waiting for the court to judge before confessing.”

He released her, looked into her eyes, and spoke calmly: “Taking one plane ride, Uncle Wen had a heart attack – how does that make you his murderer? Was it you flying the plane?”

A-Heng said: “I should have convinced Dad not to take the plane.”

His eyes were large and bright: “Now I don’t understand – Uncle Wen was a grown man, and you were his daughter, could you control your father’s legs? By that logic, when my mother nearly died giving birth to me, I should have committed suicide to atone. Your logic is all very good, no wonder she doesn’t like me.”

He knew where her mental block was – not returning to the Wen family wasn’t because of her mother’s scolding or growing distant from her siblings, but because of guilt, the torment of seeing her father’s memorial tablet.

He patted her back, smiled with a sigh, showing his white teeth, and said: “You can’t hide in your own heart forever, nor can you pretend to be strong. You need to live well and be more of the real A-Heng in front of them, the A-Heng you are in front of Yan Xi. As for the rest, I’ll try my best too, okay?”

A-Heng smiled and nodded heavily, but couldn’t speak. This comfort, falling on her ears, was more precious than all the gold in the world.

His face was pale: “I’m truly sorry, I can’t stand with you against the whole world.” He couldn’t give her enough love to give her the courage to stop caring about the Wen family.

A-Heng looked at him, frowning slightly: “I feel like your appearance has changed a lot from before.”

Though it was the same face, it somehow felt like a brilliant sunflower slowly withering, having lost much of its vitality and pride, irreversibly.

“Mm, not like… Yan Xi anymore.”

Yan Xi chuckled: “Have I become more handsome?”

A-Heng pursed her thin lips: “Heh, you’ve lost that bright air about you. I preferred how you were before, wild and unrestrained.”

But he held her tightly, closed his eyes, and spoke softly: “I don’t care about anything else, as long as you don’t collapse, as long as you can still stand in this world, I don’t care about anything else.”

That voice had a subtle tremor in the throat.

“Hey, Yan Xi, what’s wrong with you?” A-Heng found him incomprehensible.

He took her hand, but smiled faintly, speaking seriously: “When we get to the Wen house, just follow my lead and agree with whatever I say. We can talk about family feelings once the conversation flows. They miss you and feel guilty – I can guess somewhat what Si Wan and Aunt Yun Yi are thinking.”

When they arrived at the Wen house, Mother Wen and Zhang Sao were sorting folded paper money, arranging it to be loaded into the car. Old Mr. Wen sat on the sofa, his hair completely silver, feeding sugar to a little lark in a cage, showing little emotion.

Si Wan and Si’er stood in front of the stairs wearing plain clothes, arguing about something. Si Wan was frowning at Si’er, both exasperated and angry.

They turned to see Yan Xi and A-Heng. Si Wan smiled and said: “You’re back.”

A-Heng was startled – she looked just like she did years ago before there was any discord between them.

But Si’er gave a cold snort and walked towards the door. When passing by Yan Xi, she quietly mocked in his right ear: “You should drink less, killing yourself like this, who knows who will care.”

Mother Wen’s expression was also somewhat stiff, but she walked up to Yan Xi with a stern face: “Finally remembered to come to see this old lady, are you planning to steal my daughter to the ends of the earth?”

But Yan Xi laughed heartily: “Auntie if you’re an old lady, where does that leave Gong Li and Maggie Cheung?”

Mother Wen pressed her lips together and poked his forehead, but couldn’t help smiling: “Always knew how to sweet talk since you were little.”

Yan Xi glanced at A-Heng, and A-Heng chimed in: “Right, Mom, you’re so young, not an old lady at all.” She touched her nose, couldn’t think of anything else to say, and earnestly added, “Really.”

But Mother Wen smiled, pinched her nose, and softened her voice: “No good, my daughter following someone with such a sharp tongue won’t do, born too honest.”

A-Heng lowered her head: “Mom, you’re not angry with me anymore?”

But Mother Wen looked at Yan Xi, this child with his beautiful but fleeting smile, and her heart ached – if only she had known earlier, if only she had known!

She shook her head, hugged A-Heng, and cried: “Mom’s not angry with you, Mom was wrong, shouldn’t have hit you, shouldn’t have kept you from coming home. I never blamed you for your father’s death, it’s just that he always hoped you would be with the Gu family’s child, and Mom wanted to fulfill his dying wish.”

She only revealed part of the reason, keeping some darker, messier things to herself, tangled like a mess of threads she still couldn’t sort out – why burden her daughter with those affairs between men?

She wasn’t without resentment about her daughter being switched, but what could she do? To protect the whole family, besides loving Si’er, what other good options did she have?

A-Heng, from birth to adulthood, counting carefully, hadn’t spent even 360 days by her side. When she was born, she had a red birthmark on her right wrist, she remembered it so clearly. When her father-in-law brought back the missing child, the birthmark had inexplicably disappeared. As a mother, she harbored doubts, and wanted to cry out in pain and make a scene, but faced with her mother-in-law’s pleading eyes and her husband’s daily gloom, what could she do?

That year, she heard that next door to next door, the notorious fox spirit of the Yan family had died in childbirth, taking two lives.

But her father-in-law looked at her with eyes as sharp as a hawk’s, unfathomable, and said: “Yun Yi, you should smile, our Wen family has at least preserved some bloodline.”

Her heart was torn open and bleeding, sleepless night after night, rocking Si’er’s cradle, telling herself over and over: “This is my daughter.”

Fifteen years later, her little A-Heng returned to her side with the red birthmark on her right wrist, but by then, her daughter was already Si’er.

Thinking back, perhaps they were never fated to be mother and daughter.

While burning paper money for her husband, she pressed her palms together in prayer – please protect us, An Guo.

Behind her, the young couple’s fingers were intertwined, a match made in heaven.