She had grown to view these cycles with greater equanimity, accepting her life’s deviation from her plans with increasing calm.
The Vietnamese business visa was processed in just three days. When Ding Zhitong went to book flights on the dates Gan Yang had arranged, she discovered that airlines had significantly adjusted their Hong Kong routes. Flights were either combined, downgraded to smaller aircraft, or outright canceled. Fortunately, with fewer passengers traveling, she and Li Jiaxin managed to secure two seats on a flight to Hanoi.
By then, travel risk warnings had been in effect for some time. They had hoped the situation would improve once the school term began, but after October, it only intensified. Tunnels were closed, metro services were suspended, and some universities even announced an early end to the semester. Even going out for lunch required checking whether a restaurant was “blue” or “yellow.”
The situation also affected work. Wilson had planned a business trip to Hong Kong, but the wealthy client he was supposed to meet postponed their appointment. Eventually, the meeting location was changed to Singapore. Wilson expressed his regret and insisted he would visit Hong Kong before Christmas, no matter what.
Gan Yang, however, beat him to it. He was in Shanghai at the time, and after getting Ding Zhitong’s flight details, he booked his ticket to transit through Hong Kong before joining them on the flight to Hanoi.
Ding Zhitong mentally calculated: a direct flight from Shanghai to Hanoi took over three hours while flying to Hong Kong took two and a half hours, plus another hour and change to Hanoi. It could be considered “on the way,” albeit barely.
In the days leading up to her departure, she kept her word and carefully considered their relationship and what to do next. She suddenly realized how similar her current thoughts were to the advice her therapist had given her years ago. Back then, she had only listened perfunctorily, often thinking the therapist was mistaken.
That was back in 2012 when she and Song Mingmei were both diagnosed with breast conditions. They had agreed to watch their diet, exercise moderately, and get annual check-ups.
By that point, Ding Zhitong hadn’t run or engaged in any form of exercise for nearly four years. In her serviced apartment, she had only ever used the microwave and electric kettle in the kitchen.
Partly, it was because she was busy.
History proved that Qin Chang’s return came at the right time. With European and American markets in decline, hot money poured in, and the whole world coveted Chinese consumers’ spending on food, clothing, housing, and transportation. At her busiest, Ding Zhitong was simultaneously overseeing more than a dozen projects, mostly in TMT (Technology, Media, Telecommunications) and consumer goods.
The other reason was psychological.
Just as some people after a breakup agree to stay apart – you in the south of the city, me in the north; you take the elevator, I’ll climb the stairs – never to cross paths again, Ding Zhitong had consciously given up running to her ex. She didn’t dare experience that racing heartbeat, urgent breathing, and muscle soreness again, fearing it would evoke memories of the past. Memories like the extra endorphins produced in Ithaca’s harsh winters, or the sweaty post-workout stretches on yoga mats.
But by that time, things had finally begun to change.
At the end of 2011, her separation period with Feng Sheng concluded. They signed the final papers with him in New York and her in Hong Kong, not even needing to meet in person.
As for Gan Yang, that was an even more distant memory. She thought resignedly that it was time to let it go.
Besides, why should she stop running just because of him? On what grounds? If this continued, she feared she might die young.
That very day, after work, she bought a pair of running shoes and ran for twenty minutes on the treadmill in her apartment’s gym. Whether by coincidence or the power of suggestion, she slept exceptionally well that night, only waking to her 7 AM alarm the next morning.
After that, she started running again and dated three boyfriends. Of course, the boyfriends came in sequence, not simultaneously.
Boyfriend number one was a lawyer a few years her senior, whom she had worked with on the “street vendor website” project. They dated for a few months, keeping their relationship secret due to work. They were well-matched in age and background, seemingly poised for a beautiful romance, but it ended in mutual ghosting.
Boyfriend number two was a client from another project the following year – a shareholder and executive of a travel website, the same age as her, European-educated, and an outdoor enthusiast. They also dated for a few months, again keeping it secret due to work. They had planned to travel together after the project ended when Ding Zhitong took her vacation, but it too ended in mutual ghosting.
The second relationship had a minor hiccup when Qin Chang found out about their secret affair. Instead of lecturing her about professional ethics, he introduced her to a therapist and suggested she seek help.
Ding Zhitong didn’t take it seriously, feeling she had already adjusted well. Her medical check-ups showed improvement, and she could run the five kilometers from Sheung Wan to Central Pier in 30 minutes, maintaining a pace of 6 to 7 minutes per kilometer. She didn’t care about speed or competing with others, using the time to clear her mind and breathe in the salty sea air.
But since her boss had spoken, she couldn’t refuse. She dutifully booked a short-term consultation. The therapist was a middle-aged Englishman who always wore Oxford cloth shirts and khaki pants, looking like a university professor and giving her a familiar sense of comfort. Later, she learned that Qin Chang also received counseling there. She even jokingly wondered if Qin Chang felt like he was talking to himself when facing this therapist.
She candidly shared the beginnings, middles, and ends of her relationships. The therapist analyzed that her romances seemed to follow a pattern: she would encounter some difficulty, and then fall for the person who came to her aid. The relationships would start wonderfully but end just as quickly.
Ding Zhitong had a sudden realization and strongly agreed.
However, the therapist had another perspective. He suggested that this pattern wasn’t innate but rather her attempt to recreate a specific past relationship. Unless she properly resolved the issues left by that relationship, she would struggle to enter new long-term commitments.
Ding Zhitong couldn’t agree with this point. After that session ended, she never went back. Besides, what was wrong with not having a long-term relationship? It wasn’t necessarily a significant problem that needed solving.
That was in 2013. She was 28, had just received a generous bonus at the beginning of the year, was promoted to VP in January, and successfully ran the 10K race in the Hong Kong Marathon in February after winning the lottery for a spot.
That year, the 10K route started from the Island Eastern Corridor, turned back at Shau Kei Wan, then proceeded via Hennessy Road, Gloucester Road, and ended at Victoria Park in Causeway Bay.
Unlike Ithaca and New York, Hong Kong was humid and hot even in February. Due to the undulating terrain, the urban area was mostly concrete roads, the hardest type for road running.
She remembered breathing heavily, each breath seeming to carry the salty tang of the sea breeze. But the feeling of pushing her body and mind to the limit, and each step taken beyond that limit, made her acutely aware of her existence.
As she crossed the finish line, Ding Zhitong felt her life had finally gotten back on track.
She was satisfied with her job, especially her income, and she liked Hong Kong’s climate.
Then came boyfriend number three, whom she met in 2014 while running the Hong Kong Marathon half-marathon.
At the finish line, as they were taking photos, he approached her and said, “I don’t want to sound creepy, but your legs are really beautiful!”
The same words might have sounded sleazy coming from someone else, but he was just a student from the Chinese University of Hong Kong, young and blushing as he spoke.
So, they had a very pleasant relationship for a few months. Until early summer, when he invited her to run on the hills at CUHK. After the run, he washed his face in a pool by the trail, dunking his whole head in the water and shaking off the excess. Watching him, she suddenly remembered that Gan Yang used to do the same thing. She had even given this move a name: “dog-style face wash.”
She almost immediately wanted to end things.
Conveniently, a new project was starting. She took the opportunity to fly from city to city for global marketing and ghosted him.
It was only then that she had to admit the therapist was right.
Later, feeling she had behaved poorly, she returned to Hong Kong to break up with him properly, only to be treated as if she were crazy.
But that relationship ended, and she made a decision not to date until she had sorted herself out.
In 2015, Ding Zhitong turned 30. She lived ascetically, focused on making money, earned even more bonuses, and completed the full Hong Kong Marathon. The route started from Nathan Road at the Miramar Hotel in Tsim Sha Tsui, turned back before the Mei Foo interchange, and then went through the Western Harbour Tunnel, Sports Road, Lockhart Road, East Point Road, and Great George Street, still ending at Victoria Park in Causeway Bay.
As she crossed the finish line, she knew her life hadn’t gotten back on track, but she still liked Hong Kong’s climate and was satisfied with her job, especially her income.
However, capitalism played another joke on her – 2015 wasn’t a good year at all. In June, A-shares plummeted, with 1,500 stocks in Shanghai and Shenzhen hitting their lower limits, causing widespread panic. After the stock market crash, 2016 saw major cutbacks and layoffs. But she had grown to view these cycles with greater equanimity, accepting her life’s deviation from her plans with increasing calm.
To this day, Ding Zhitong increasingly recalls what her therapist told her years ago. For instance, dating doesn’t necessarily mean establishing an exclusive intimate relationship with someone. Two people should accept open dating based on mutual attraction and honesty, as this is the only way to have enough opportunities to understand each other and truly figure out one’s feelings.
At first, she found it somewhat magical. Like a prophecy, the therapist in 2013 had foreseen her situation in 2019 – being pursued by two men simultaneously and considering how to proceed.
On second thought, she became calm again, realizing that perhaps stories between men and women are always like this. It was just that she had grown up in an environment without a dating culture. Before she entered this realm, no one had taught her, and she had no chance to practice. Like Song Mingmei, who had multiple suitors at the same time – even her friend, Ding Zhitong couldn’t fully understand it back then. By the time she figured it all out, she was already 34.