Ye Meng didn’t speak, she simply hung up the phone.

Li Jin Yu called back, but before he could say anything, she answered and unleashed her fury: “Others can misremember a license plate, but you? Do you think I love you so much that I can just ignore my mother’s death? I don’t hold your usual antics against you, but this is my bottom line. If you won’t tell me the truth, if you’re gambling on my feelings, let me tell you—don’t bother testing me. You’re not more important than my mother.”

Li Jin Yu seemed to have lost his ability to speak, suddenly falling silent on the other end.

Ye Meng wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she knew he was still outside. The sound of car horns kept coming through the receiver, occasionally interspersed with familiar street vendor calls, but his voice was absent—even his breathing was barely perceptible.

“Still nothing to say to me?” Ye Meng asked.

After a long while, he finally spoke softly: “Can I still come see you tomorrow?”

Ye Meng put the phone on speaker and placed it on the washbasin, supporting herself with both hands as she silently looked down at the screen. Finally, she gritted her teeth and said: “If you have nothing to tell me, don’t bother coming.”

He seemed to have gone deaf, unwilling to speak anymore. Ye Meng suspected he had thrown his phone aside and walked away.

Li Jin Yu was sitting on stone steps by the river.

One leg stretched out lazily, the other bent at the knee with his foot on the step. He rested his elbow on his knee, a cigarette between his fingers, sitting silently on the steps smoking. The phone lay beside him, not hung up, on speaker. It wasn’t clear if he was listening.

The evening breeze blew gently, creating barely visible ripples on the lake’s surface. The shimmering light reflected in his deep, suppressed eyes.

His gaze was unfocused, staring absently into the distance, slightly squinting. Even the smoke he exhaled was thinner than usual. He mostly smoked to relieve tension, generally inhaling and immediately exhaling, not letting it pass his throat. But today, he held the smoke in his mouth for a long time, slowly swallowing it bit by bit with his bobbing Adam’s apple, taking it deep into his lungs, giving them a harsh sweep before lazily exhaling a thin mist. Sometimes he didn’t exhale at all.

A nearby sweeper watched this handsome young man smoking so fiercely. Upon closer inspection—hey, Red Double Happiness, is not even a good brand. He shook his head in pity.

Ye Meng couldn’t see this. After waiting a long time without any response from him, she steeled her heart and delivered an ultimatum: “I can’t be with you if you’re hiding things about my mother. At least give me an explanation, or we’re getting divorced.”

…

The road was wide, pedestrians hurried by, and the street lamps cast a dim, firefly-like glow.

Li Jin Yu stood up and walked back, but stopped at the entrance to the alley. He stood under the old camphor tree, watching cars come and go, taking in the myriad scenes of human life.

The dried fish vendor was steadfastly practicing his craft at the alley entrance. At the corner, an old woman sold candied hawthorn fruits. Passing children eyed them greedily, tugging at their mothers’ hands, refusing to leave. Mothers would say such things were junk food and couldn’t be eaten, making the old woman embarrassedly move her stall a bit further away.

He thought if it were his and Ye Meng’s child, Ye Meng would definitely buy one, gently telling the child, “Just one, okay?”

Would there ever be children?

Li Jin Yu watched with reddened eyes, those eyes as clear as black glass beads reflecting the bright lights.

He looked up at the moon. The moon said nothing, hanging high in the sky. No matter if you were sad, happy, grieving, or joyful when dawn broke, it would sink, only to rise again as usual the next day.

He turned to look at the street lamp, where moths were fluttering. Cluster after cluster, group after group, they tirelessly circled that light and fire, knowing there was no resolution.

Li Jin Yu tilted his head back slightly, and tears fell.

He himself was unaware until a child on the street glanced at him twice.

So true sorrow was when tears fell without you even knowing. Although he had been mentally prepared when he took the gamble, he hadn’t expected that he would be so easily defeated in her heart. He dared not compare himself to her aunt. How could he dare?

The next day, Ye Meng received a flight ticket cancellation notice on her phone, as her number had been used when purchasing the ticket. [Air China Secretary Reminder: Mr. Li Jin Yu, your refund order 538273228XXX has been completed…]

For a month after that, neither made a single phone call. Their WeChat conversation had also come to an abrupt halt that day. The dialogue seemed to have become the conclusion, with no one updating it further.

Sometimes Ye Meng would call the old lady to ask what Li Jin Yu was doing. The old lady would quietly tell her that Li Jin Yu was reading. The weight hanging in Ye Meng’s heart seemed to lighten somewhat. At least he hadn’t given up on reading.

“What’s going on between you two?” The old lady covered the receiver, afraid Li Jin Yu would hear, her voice sounding as if it came from under a blanket.

“How has he been these past few days?”

“He’s fine, seems quite normal, just doesn’t talk much.”

“That’s good. Please take good care of him for me. Let me know if anything happens, okay?”

“What would I tell you? You’re in Beijing and can’t do anything. Focus on your work. He’s a young man; there’s nothing he can’t handle. Don’t worry.”

But not two days later, the old lady called Ye Meng on her own initiative: “Li Jin Yu seems to be quite sick, he’s been coughing non-stop lately.”

Ye Meng had just signed some documents and handed them to her assistant. Holding the phone, she asked quietly: “Has he been to the hospital?”

“No, he refuses to go.”

Ye Meng leaned back in her executive chair, silently spun in a circle, then sat forward again, resting against the edge of the desk: “Put him on the phone.”

She heard the old lady shouting through the door, “Li Jin Yu, your wife’s on the phone.”

A few seconds later, the sound of a door opening came through, followed by the familiar sound of slippers.

First came the sound of several violent coughs.

After a month, of hearing his voice again, Ye Meng felt it was somewhat unfamiliar. He seemed to have changed a lot, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was different. He seemed much more composed, but he still couldn’t be bothered to say hello, just making a low “mm” sound to indicate he was listening.

“Grandma says you’re coughing?”

“Mm.” He responded softly.

Both were being stubborn. The phone call was like an invisible rope, each holding an end, pulling, tugging, struggling back and forth, yet silently at a standstill. They were both trying to pull the other back from the other end of the line, neither willing to let go first. Finally, Ye Meng gave in, saying stiffly: “Go to the hospital for an X-ray.”

The old lady was watching TV, which was showing a scene unsuitable for children. The angle of the male and female leads kissing was filmed quite passionately—you could even see their tongues. The old lady turned her head away awkwardly. Li Jin Yu, reclining on the sofa, grabbed the remote control and simply turned it off, saying to the person on the phone: “No need, I’m fine.”

Ye Meng was insistent: “I’ve contacted my second aunt.”

Li Jin Yu frowned, his voice impatient: “I said it’s not necessary.”

Ye Meng called him by his full name: “Li Jin Yu!”

“You don’t need to be so fierce. I’ll go, okay?” he said.

Ye Meng didn’t know how she was being fierce.

As if choked by his own emotions, Li Jin Yu couldn’t help coughing twice more, then said coldly: “Do you have anything else? If not, I’m hanging up.”

…With the TV off, the old lady rolled away in her wheelchair, leaving him alone in the living room. Ping An was contentedly lying outside the small courtyard, staring at the fish in the tank.

“You’re still insisting, aren’t you?” After holding back for over a month, Ye Meng finally couldn’t help saying, “The police have already tracked down Li Ling Bai. Are you still hiding things? That Singaporean Chinese collector who died went to see your mother on the morning of the 17th.”

Li Jin Yu: “So what? What does that have to do with your mother’s case?”

“Nothing, but your mother being investigated by the police reminded me. When you changed your testimony back then, was it related to your mother?”

“She treated me so badly, why would I bother?”

“Eight years ago, you were just a college student longing for maternal love. I think it’s very likely.”

“You’ve said everything already. You won’t believe anything I say.”

Ye Meng lost her patience: “Then tell me, who exactly are you protecting by not saying a single word?”

“Who the fuck can I protect!” Li Jin Yu suddenly roared.

Then there was silence. Li Jin Yu took a deep breath, composed himself, and said: “Just come back first, okay?”

“Do you think I can come back now? If my mother’s death is connected to your mother, do you think we can still go on together?”

“If we can’t go on, then we’ll divorce. I won’t cling to you. Just come back first.”

“I won’t come back until I figure this out. And until I do, I don’t know how to face you.”

He suddenly asked: “Do you love me?”

Another silence followed. Li Jin Yu felt as if someone had viciously cut into his heart, and the knife, as if not satisfied, kept drilling into his heart again and again. He was in agony, feeling he might go crazy. He cried again. Damn it, it had only been a month, and he’d nearly exhausted a lifetime’s worth of tears.

Li Jin Yu lay back on the sofa, looking at the ceiling, one hand holding the phone, the other pressing against his reddened eyes. Like a pile of mud, devoid of emotion, a tear slid down the corner of his eye. He smiled helplessly, then wiped away the tear, sat up, his legs sprawled wide, his whole body slouched and listless, back hunched as he sat.

He craned his neck, staring blankly at her high heels by the door.

After a long while, he finally spoke dejectedly in a low voice: “I changed my testimony because of my brother. I wasn’t the only witness that night; my brother was there too. But the next day, something felt wrong, so I went to the police station. I don’t know if your mother’s death is related to my mother, maybe it is, because later I saw that man at my home. My brother was afraid my mother would get in trouble, so he told me to change my testimony. Even though she treated me badly, I didn’t want her to get into trouble, so I agreed. You can say I was a deformed college student longing for maternal love. That’s the part I knew back then. You win. You brought up divorce, knowing I would be upset, and that I would miss you. But you still brought it up. Ye Meng, you really don’t love me.”

Li Jin Yu, having exhausted all his strength, hung up the phone, and in anger, hurled it at the door with a loud “bang.”

Then, elbows on his thighs, he buried his head, lost in thought.

Fuck it all.

Red-eyed, he cursed.

After crying for a while, he stood up and went out to pour dog food for Ping An. The dog seemed grateful that he could still consider its stomach in such an emotional state. After pouring the dog food, his phone rang again. He thought it might be Ye Meng, but it wasn’t. It was Yang Tian Wei sending a message asking what he was doing.

He didn’t know what he was doing.

The phone vibrated again, this time a call from an unfamiliar number.

He hung up immediately.

However, the phone rang persistently again.

Li Jin Yu took a breath and answered. This time he couldn’t even be bothered to make an “mm” sound, silently waiting for the caller to speak. If it was a telemarketer, he’d hang up immediately—gentlemanly demeanor be damned.

A long-absent voice came through: “Jin Yu, it’s your grandfather.”

Li Jin Yu was stunned, gradually freezing, his brain suddenly stiff and unable to process.

The Li family had a complex environment with many children and grandchildren, filled with constant open conflicts and secret struggles. Li Chang Jin had been seriously ill for ten years, bedridden, his speech unclear, and unable to recognize everyone. He had no energy for these messy affairs.

But among all the Li family children, Li Chang Jin favored Li Jin Yu the most, even he could see Li Ling Bai’s favoritism, which left him helpless. When Li Chang Jin was present, Li Ling Bai didn’t dare act too outrageously. Who would have thought that once Li Chang Jin became paralyzed, she would sever ties with Li Jin Yu.

Lying in his sickbed, Li Chang Jin naturally knew nothing of this. However, who could have guessed that Li Chang Jin, whose condition had reportedly worsened recently, would now be clearheaded enough to recognize people.

As soon as he woke up and heard that his beloved grandson was living away from home, he immediately demanded to know his whereabouts without hesitation.

One phone call had traced him here.

“You’ve suffered, Jin Yu.”

Li Jin Yu’s impression of his grandfather was still from high school. Since he started high school, after Li Chang Jin fell ill, he hadn’t seen him again.

But Li Chang Jin had been the only warmth Li Jin Yu had experienced in the Li family all these years. Li Jin Yu’s demeanor, politeness, cultivation, and piano skills had all been personally taught by Li Chang Jin, the consummate gentleman.

Li Chang Jin spoke gently again: “In a few days, I’ll send someone to pick you up. Don’t follow your mother’s nonsense. I can disown anyone, but I cannot disown you.”