Liu looked at him, sensing his worry. “I won’t let go of what needs to be protected,” she assured him.
By the time they finished their meal, they had covered most of the past year’s events.
When Gan Kunliang was first released from prison, he could barely stand or feed himself. Half his face was paralyzed, and he struggled to speak clearly. Liu sent him to a top-tier provincial hospital’s rehabilitation ward for nearly six months. The conditions there were far superior to the prison hospital. With daily supervised exercises on various machines, he gradually recovered to his current state. After discharge, Gan Kunliang moved into their old family house. He had only begun to appear in public in recent months.
As Gan Yang listened, he concluded it was likely true. Indeed, there were no traces of his father in the new house. After dinner, Liu drove Gan Kunliang back to the old house. Moreover, in this small city, most locals knew each other directly or indirectly. Even Zeng Junjie had only recently seen Mr. Gan on television.
After dropping off Gan Kunliang, only mother and son remained in the car. The evening had been harmonious, and Liu seemed to be in good spirits.
Gan Yang waited until this moment to ask, “What does he do every day now?”
The “he,” of course, referred to Gan Kunliang.
Liu glanced at him, not insisting he call Gan Kunliang “Dad.” She replied matter-of-factly, “After resting for a while, he said he was bored. So I let him work at the new district’s sole production factory. He has an office to sit in, but doesn’t need to manage anything else.”
Skeptical, Gan Yang probed further, “Then why did my classmate see him on TV?”
Liu laughed, “Is that why you came back? To surprise your old mom?”
Gan Yang blushed but waited for her explanation.
Liu sighed with a smile, “It was just a formality for the news. The day the TV station came to film, I happened to be busy. Your father had nothing to do, and I could see he wanted to be on camera, so I let him go.”
Gan Yang nodded, saying nothing.
Seeing his concern, Liu reached over and ruffled his hair. “I know you’re worried about me, but your mom isn’t a fool. I won’t let go of what needs to be protected.”
With the conversation having reached this point, Gan Yang felt a bit embarrassed. Who was he to think Liu was naive? Although his mother had always been overly kind to her husband and in-laws, she was still a seasoned businesswoman. He realized he might have overthought the situation this time.
With this worry seemingly resolved, Gan Yang spent the next few days revisiting his hometown.
He arranged to have dinner with Zeng Junjie and planned to invite a few more people.
When his classmates in the group chat heard he was back, they also wanted to meet up. However, few people their age still lived in town. Some, like him, had gone abroad. Others had moved to big cities for university and stayed there to work. Some, as Liu had mentioned, had moved to nearby cities due to air quality concerns. It was impossible to gather everyone except during holidays. The town was now filled with young workers from other regions, especially in the new district with its factories and dormitories. One could walk for a long time without hearing the local dialect.
In the end, Zeng Junjie invited two other close friends from middle school. One had become a civil servant in the local water conservancy bureau after graduating from a vocational college. The other had taken over his family’s factory, having been a young boss for two years.
Zeng, nicknamed “Fatty,” hosted the dinner at his family’s restaurant. Three of the four at the table already seemed quite worldly, toasting and drinking. Only Gan Yang abstained from alcohol.
Back when they were training together, a coach had told them that alcohol affects reaction time, balance, and coordination. Gan Yang, who already had a low tolerance and didn’t enjoy drinking, had always used this as an excuse.
Fatty Zeng scoffed, “How are you still like this? There’s no coach to supervise you now.”
Gan Yang replied, “No coach, but I have a girlfriend who does.”
“A foreign girl?” Zeng Junjie asked, intrigued.
Gan Yang shook his head. “She’s also an international student.”
Zeng Junjie pressed, “Where is she? Did you bring her back?”
“She’s in New York,” Gan Yang answered, smiling as he spoke.
“How can she control you when she’s not even here?” Fatty teased, bringing up old memories. “Even our fierce homeroom teacher, Ms. Lu, couldn’t handle you back then.”
The young boss chimed in, “I remember! I remember! Ms. Lu would stand up, look at him, and say…”
“Gan Yang, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because I like you!” Fatty was imitated in a surprisingly accurate female voice.
Gan Yang just smiled, ordered dishes, poured drinks, and listened to their animated conversation.
The civil servant described his daily routine: work from 8 to 4, a five-minute walk from home. Except for rare outings with superiors, by 5 PM, when the sun was still high, he’d already finished dinner and started gaming in his room. Recently, his family had arranged a blind date for him with a local primary school teacher. They had chatted on QQ but hadn’t met in person yet. He wasn’t very interested, saying he had already asked about her birth date and salary and could envision their golden wedding anniversary after retirement. The middle-aged colleagues in his office were a glimpse into his future – so bored they’d cultivate small plots on the riverbanks in their jurisdiction, pondering what to grow.
Zeng Junjie patted the civil servant’s belly, saying, “Hmm, you’re starting to look middle-aged.”
The civil servant patted him back, retorting, “Look who’s talking!”
The young boss looked more stylish than before, with oiled hair, cologne, fashionable clothes, and his Porsche keys next to his cigarettes and Louis Vuitton wallet. However, as he drank more, he confided in Gan Yang, “Business has been incredibly tough this year. I’m afraid to look at the accounts too closely.”
“Are orders down?” Gan Yang asked, recalling a recent conversation with Liu on the same topic.
The young boss nodded and shook his head. “If it were just fewer orders, that would be manageable. The scary part is how different it is from expectations. You don’t know how many orders we had last year. Everyone hired new workers and added production lines. Who could have guessed it would change so drastically in just a few months?”
Isn’t that typical of OEMs? Gan Yang thought to himself. Whether it’s market demand or exchange rate fluctuations, the risk always falls on the contract manufacturers. The brand companies bear no responsibility, ensuring their profits regardless of the circumstances.
“But then again,” the young boss continued, “small factories like ours are still better off. If worse comes to worst, we can just close shop. It’s not like those large factories. Last year, banks were eager to lend. Even if you didn’t want to borrow, account managers would pester you daily, saying, ‘Just borrow a bit, invest in anything, you’ll make money, and it’ll boost my performance too.’ Now that they’ve borrowed and spent the money, suddenly facing this situation with banks withdrawing credit lines – that’s a recipe for disaster.”
Midway through his speech, he seemed to remember that Gan Yang’s family owned one of those large factories. He quickly changed his tone, smiling, “Your sports brand business should be better off. After all, your profit margins are higher, and the entry barrier is high too. Not just any small factory can get those orders, so the competition isn’t as fierce.”
Gan Yang wanted to inquire further, but Zeng Junjie had already moved on, discussing with the young boss where to go next for entertainment.
Hearing the name of a certain massage parlor, Gan Yang sensed the implications and declined to join.
Zeng Junjie, displeased with Gan Yang’s prudishness, teased him, “Oh, our Yangyang is different now. Even if you wanted to go, I’d feel bad taking you to such a lowbrow place.”
Gan Yang, unfazed, pushed him away, saying, “I’ve always been different from you.”
Zeng Junjie, exasperated, imitated the female voice again, pointing at Gan Yang, “Gan Yang, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because I like you!”
The table erupted in laughter. In the end, Zeng Junjie’s wife arrived, pushing a baby stroller. As a result, no one went out, and they parted ways civilly.
The following weekend, Gan Yang attended a wedding.
He had told Ding Zhitong that he was returning for a relative’s wedding. At the time, it was just an excuse, and the timing didn’t quite align with the wedding season. But in his hometown, there were always weddings. The groom was one of his cousins. Gan Yang remembered his childhood nickname but barely recognized his face. Throughout the event, he followed the elders’ instructions, participating in the bride’s pickup and then sitting down for the meal, playing the role of a dutiful male relative of the groom.
After the wedding, Gan Yang sent a few photos to Ding Zhitong as proof of his reason for returning home. Only after sending the email did he feel like he was protesting too much.
One photo showed him sitting at a round table, eating. Next to him, a boy just over a year old stood on a chair. Despite not having all his teeth, the child was enthusiastically gnawing on king crab legs, one in each hand.
Later, during a video call with Ding Zhitong, Gan Yang lay on his bed, smiling as he asked, “Do you know who that child next to me is?”
It was already midnight in New York. Ding Zhitong was working overtime as usual, not even looking at him as she answered, “Your son back home?”
Gan Yang: “…”
Ding Zhitong finally laughed and asked more seriously, “Who is it?”
“The bride and groom’s son,” Gan Yang revealed.
Ding Zhitong: “…???”
Gan Yang explained, “It’s the custom here. First, they get engaged, have a child, then hold the wedding ceremony.”
Ding Zhitong was incredulous. “Really?”
Gan Yang furrowed his brows and asked, “Are you doubting yourself or me?”
Ding Zhitong paused, finally catching his implication, and cursed, “Get lost!”
Gan Yang laughed, but she had already disconnected.
Thinking she might be angry, he quickly sent a message.
“No, just lost connection,” Ding Zhitong replied, not ignoring him.
Her response seemed like a cold joke, but she genuinely didn’t know how to react to such teasing.
Unexpectedly, he called back, asking, “Do you miss me?”
“Mm,” Ding Zhitong answered on speakerphone, maintaining her terse style. After a pause, she added, “When are you coming back?”
Gan Yang chuckled softly. He had already told her his return date and flight number, and she had marked it on her calendar. They both knew this, but he repeated it anyway, seemingly not minding.
Then Gan Yang asked, “Will you come to pick me up?”
“Not sure,” she replied honestly.
Gan Yang fell silent.
She explained, “I might have a business trip next week.”
“Oh…” He sounded disappointed.
“I still have work to finish. I’ll talk to you later,” Ding Zhitong said.
“Oh…” Disappointment squared.
“I’m hanging up then,” she continued.
“Oh…” Disappointment cubed.
Ding Zhitong hung up, suppressing a smile, and messaged him: If I’m in New York that day, I’ll pick you up.
A second later, her phone rang again.
Feeling annoyed, she rejected the call and typed: I have unfinished work!
The “typing” status lasted for several seconds before a concise message arrived: You work first, sleep early, I love you.
Me too, she replied, hitting send and exiting the chat. But as she looked up, she caught her reflection in the window, smiling like an idiot. She took off her glasses, rubbed her face vigorously, did some eye exercises, and continued working overtime.
That night, Ding Zhitong had a dream.
In the dream, she was flying to San Francisco for a business trip, coinciding with Gan Yang’s return. They agreed to meet at the airport.
Her flight was about to depart, but he remained calm, helping with her luggage, holding her hand, finding a place to eat, and sharing stories from the past two weeks.
Sometimes, dream-Ding was influenced by him, feeling no urgency and even forgetting about the impending flight, laughing and embracing him. But as time ticked away, she ultimately missed her flight. Gan Yang suggested a bizarre alternative – taking a train. Even stranger, she agreed. They left the airport for the train station, traversing the entire city, encountering various absurd obstacles: traffic jams, breakdowns, forgotten items, lost tickets…
It felt like a lifetime had passed, yet they never seemed to reach their destination.
Although she knew it was a dream and dreams are inherently absurd, part of her observing the dream was incredibly anxious.
She woke up in a cold sweat. Ding Zhitong lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her heart still racing. She wondered how Gan Yang would react if she told him she’d had a nightmare because of him.
During her school days, she often dreamed about being late. She had looked it up online; experts said such dreams were caused by excessive real-life stress. But this dream was different. She even laughed at the obstacles because he remained calm and stayed by her side.
At that moment, Ding Zhitong had to admit she missed him deeply, more than a simple “mm” could express. It wasn’t a clear desire, but rather like receiving a solid, warm hug after a long day, or feeling his hand holding hers or his leg pressed against her in the middle of the night. She thought about those moments, not wanting to move, feeling as if time had stopped.
She used to think Gan Yang got along well with everyone, and their relationship was just a coincidence, with the furthest she could see was the New York Marathon in November.
But now, they had said “love” to each other, more than once. He had even subtly mentioned the possibility of marriage. She could hardly imagine it, but when she did, it felt wonderful, making her smile quietly as she lay in bed.
However, after getting up, Ding Zhitong had to face another reality – without Gan Yang around, she felt more relaxed. She didn’t have to anxiously watch the clock, worrying about working late. She could casually heat frozen convenience food for a meal, even eating while working on her computer. Or, like this morning when she woke up too early, she simply decided not to go back to sleep.
As she washed up and applied makeup in the bathroom mirror, she noticed her young face already showed signs of neurasthenia. She quickly added some concealer to cover the dark circles under her eyes.
That day, she returned to her office in Midtown. It happened to be the first day for the new batch of summer interns, who were starting their ten-week internship, just like her group had done last year. Among the new faces was a familiar name: Guan Wenyuan.
Taking this opportunity, the IBD’s open office area has been rearranged. JV’s previously empty desk had completely disappeared.