After the dinner banquet that evening, Jiang Suiyuan was summoned to the study by Patriarch Jiang. Yu Fengyan went with him. The moment the two of them left the table, the Jiang family’s cousins and relatives all dropped their earlier affable demeanors and ceased making conversation with Jiang Yan — as though exchanging even a single word with him were some profound taboo.
Jiang Yan had lived through such scenes in his younger years. Back then, their attitudes had been even colder and more arrogant, as if he were some worthless insect to be trampled underfoot at will.
He had long since stopped harboring any attachment to this place, and so he paid their attitudes no mind at all. He stood, intending to return to his room upstairs.
Jiang Suifeng watched the young man’s retreating figure, made a fist and held it to his lips with a light cough. One of the female relatives in the room met his eyes, then suddenly let out a strange, singsong laugh. “A child who wasn’t raised in the Jiang household from infancy really is different. The elders are still here, and he’s just going to walk off without a word of farewell? Completely without manners.”
“Quite so,” said another elegantly dressed female relative. “Never mind us — even the old matriarch is still here. For a grandchild to act as though she doesn’t exist… If we actually let this mother and son into the Jiang family in the future, what on earth will become of things?”
Jiang Yan stopped in his tracks, his tall figure still and upright. Then, as if in response to those words, he turned and sat back down — posture sprawling and utterly unconcerned with appearances.
He picked up the white porcelain teacup in front of him, lifted the lid and gently swept away the tea leaves, eyes cast downward watching the green leaves bob on the water. Then he raised his gaze to the woman who had spoken first and gave a faint, cool smile. “May I ask — what standing do you have to lecture me about manners?”
“You—!” The speaker was the daughter of the Jiang brothers’ great-aunt, sharp-browed and sharp-eyed, with the look of someone chronically unpleasant. “Calling you ill-mannered is actually giving you too much credit. Like mother, like son.”
Jiang Yan received their accusations in full — and then discarded them entirely. He set down his teacup, rose again, straightened his collar carefully, and gave a slight incline of his head toward Madame Jiang, who sat in the seat of honor. “Madame Jiang, I have had poor health since childhood. The air in here is somewhat foul, and I’m having difficulty breathing. I’ll take my leave.”
Courteous and measured. Knowing when to advance and when to withdraw.
The words were not pleasant, yet there was nothing anyone could fault.
Madame Jiang, who had long since passed her seventies, finally raised her eyes to look at the young man before her. Her eyes were deep-set with age, yet her gaze was remarkably bright.
She studied Jiang Yan at length. Jiang Yan stood there without a care, letting her look as long as she pleased.
After a long while, Madame Jiang gave a slight nod, her voice steady and deep. “Go on, then.”
There was nothing more to be said. Jiang Yan went straight upstairs. Not long after his departure, Jiang Mulan also rose and followed him up.
The two came upon each other unexpectedly at the far end of the corridor.
Jiang Yan looked at this boy who bore a certain resemblance to himself, flicked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, and said lightly, “Want to talk for a bit?”
Jiang Mulan had never had any goodwill toward Jiang Yan or Yu Fengyan, and naturally had no desire to exchange a single word with him. Without any expression, he turned to leave.
Jiang Yan watched his retreating back and said lazily, “Don’t you want to know why I’ve suddenly come back?”
When he had chosen to leave the Jiang family back then, he had sworn in front of Jiang Mulan that he would never return.
As expected, at those words, Jiang Mulan’s unhurried figure paused. He turned his head back and looked at him. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Are you sure you want to stand here for this conversation?” Jiang Yan had his hands tucked into his pockets, shoulder leaning against the wall, eyeing him with a raised brow — his posture making it seem, oddly, as though Jiang Mulan were the intruder.
“I don’t like being alone in the same space as you,” Jiang Mulan said.
Jiang Yan smiled. “How funny. Neither do I.”
“……”
In the end, the two of them went to the small balcony at the far end of the corridor.
Jiang Mulan stood in the corner of the balcony, wishing he could put as much distance as possible between himself and Jiang Yan. “I don’t like wasting words,” he said coldly. “If you have something to say, say it.”
Jiang Yan leaned against the balcony railing. The cold winter wind made his eyes sting. “I came back this time for one thing. Once it’s done, I’ll leave and never return.”
“You said the same thing when you left before,” Jiang Mulan said, arms crossed, with a cold snort. “And yet here you are.”
Jiang Yan tilted his head slightly. “Think what you like.”
Jiang Mulan didn’t look at him. “Say it. What is it you want to do?”
“I want Jiang Suiyuan to marry my mother.”
“You’re dreaming!” At those words, Jiang Mulan’s brow furrowed sharply and his voice suddenly rose. “I’m telling you — don’t even think about it!”
“And yet I intend to do exactly that.” Jiang Yan took a few steps forward and pulled back the balcony curtain. A beam of corridor light fell through. “This is the one thing I came here to accomplish.”
“Wishful thinking.” Jiang Mulan gave a contemptuous snort. “Setting aside that my maternal grandparents would never agree — my grandfather and grandmother would absolutely refuse to let my father marry your mother. And even if Father had the ability to get them to relent, as long as I refuse, my maternal grandparents would fight to the bitter end for my mother’s sake.”
“Which is precisely why I wanted to speak with you.” Jiang Yan leaned against the wall behind him, facing him directly. “Jiang Suiyuan wants me to come back and be formally acknowledged as his son. Once I agree, I become his legitimate heir, and that puts me on equal footing with you in terms of inheritance rights.”
Jiang Mulan was silent for a moment.
Jiang Yan curved the corner of his mouth, his tone unhurried. “Add my mother to the equation — do you think there will still be a place for you at Jiang Enterprises in the future?”
He was a child raised in the Jiang family after all. After hearing Jiang Yan out, Jiang Mulan quickly composed himself. He looked up. “So then — what exactly are you proposing?”
“I’ll trade my entire inheritance for your agreement that Jiang Suiyuan can marry my mother.” Jiang Yan understood clearly that the two Jiang elders had refused to allow Jiang Suiyuan to remarry all these years partly out of longstanding ties with the Zhou family, but largely out of consideration for Jiang Mulan’s feelings.
Only if Jiang Mulan relented would Yu Fengyan have any chance of marrying Jiang Suiyuan.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Jiang Mulan’s voice, carried by the wind, was cool and sharp. “If your mother marries in, won’t she want more? Like finding ways to secure an inheritance in Jiang Enterprises for her son?”
“What if I can have her sign a prenuptial property agreement?” Jiang Yan said. “If I’ve decided to make this happen, I’ve already thought through every part of it.”
“So you assume I’ll definitely agree to your terms?” Jiang Mulan asked.
“You will.” Jiang Yan said with certainty. “Jiang Enterprises wouldn’t be where it is today without your mother and the Zhou family’s full backing. Your mother made many critical decisions for the company’s survival back in the day. Even now, many of the old board members would show respect to your mother’s memory long before they’d show it to Jiang Suiyuan. So you absolutely cannot afford to let Jiang Enterprises fall so easily into my hands.”
Jiang Yan understood Jiang Mulan well. In his eyes, Jiang Enterprises was the last thing his mother had left him — he treasured it more than anything.
This was a gamble — and a gamble whose outcome had already been decided.
“Fine.” After a long silence, Jiang Mulan said quietly, “Give me a week. I can’t make this decision alone.”
“Three days.” Jiang Yan said. “Three days from now is New Year’s Eve. All the Jiang family branches will come for the reunion banquet that night. I want you to announce your decision in front of everyone.”
Jiang Mulan stepped forward, but the Jiang family’s discipline would not permit him to raise a hand. He could only clench his fists and restrain every impulse that crossed a line. “Don’t push too far!”
“I simply want to resolve this quickly. I don’t have much time to spend here.” Jiang Yan said calmly. “I know the Zhou family has a very authoritative legal team. As long as you arrange for them within these three days, I’ll go with you immediately to notarize my renunciation of the inheritance.”
Jiang Mulan stared at him as though he had heard something astonishing.
“As for the agreement on my mother’s end — as long as you publicly agree to their marriage in front of everyone, I will also have my mother agree to a prenuptial agreement and notarized renunciation of all spousal inheritance rights.” Jiang Yan rubbed his temple lightly. “As for registering the marriage, I hope you can encourage them to do it as soon as possible. Once they’ve registered, I’ll leave the Jiang family immediately.”
Things having come this far, Jiang Mulan had little else to say, though he was somewhat puzzled. “Do you truly feel nothing for the Jiang family — for Jiang Enterprises?”
Jiang Yan pulled back the curtain, turning his back to him. The corridor light cast a warm glow, but his voice remained as cool as ever. “What is there to want in something that was never mine?”
Jiang Mulan moved quickly. The very next morning, Jiang Yan heard from the household staff that he had returned to the Zhou family residence and would be back the following day.
The family made a show of finishing breakfast together. The Jiang relatives seemed to have forgotten last night’s scene entirely and greeted Jiang Yan with warm smiles.
Jiang Yan couldn’t be bothered to play along. He ate a little of whatever was available, then excused himself and went back to his room.
In the mornings, the Jiang household had dedicated staff who came to the family members’ rooms to tidy up. When Jiang Yan returned, one of the maids was making his bed. She startled slightly to see him back so soon, then quickly recovered, lowered her head, and greeted him. “Young Master.”
Jiang Yan’s eyelid twitched at the absurd address, but he said nothing and walked to the table to pick up his phone. He saw that Lin Tao had sent him several WeChat messages:
Good morning! How are you? No problems, right? Those Jiang family people haven’t been giving you trouble, have they? …… AAAAAAAAAHHHH why aren’t you replying to me!! I saw on TV that families like the Jiang family have a lot of rules, are you not even allowed to use your phone?? If you don’t reply to me, I’m seriously calling the police.
……
Just as Jiang Yan was about to call her, he glanced at the maid still in the room, thought for a moment, and took his phone out the door instead.
He went to last night’s balcony. The surroundings were the same, but his state of mind was entirely different.
The call connected quickly. Lin Tao’s energetic voice crackled through the line. “AHHH you finally picked up! I was practically ready to call the police!”
Jiang Yan smiled. “I’m fine.”
Lin Tao heard how faint and listless his voice sounded and her mind went on high alert. “Why do you sound so worn out? You weren’t mistreated, were you? Are they not feeding you?! No, I’m opening a video call to check!”
Before her words were even done, the call dropped. Before Jiang Yan could even tap the video call icon, she had already called through.
The moment the video connected, Lin Tao pressed her whole face up to the camera and scrutinized him thoroughly, then let out a breath of relief. “Good, still just as handsome.”
“……”
Lin Tao propped her phone on a stand and sat a short distance away. In front of her was a large, scattered puzzle.
“You’re doing the puzzle?” Jiang Yan asked.
“Yeah.” Lin Tao picked up a small piece, compared it against several spots, and still couldn’t find a fit. She looked up with a sigh. “How did you ever manage to put together that three-thousand-piece puzzle? I think it might take me until the end of time.”
“Then I’ll help you finish it when I get back.”
Lin Tao looked at the phone. “No good — this is your Valentine’s Day gift.”
During the Valentine’s Day period, Lin Tao had been busy with final exams. Neither of them had much sense of occasion anyway, and the whole thing had been forgotten.
Jiang Yan smiled. “Is this the Valentine’s Day gift from fifty years from now?”
“……” Lin Tao pressed her lips together, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. “It’s the Valentine’s Day gift that gets burned for you after you’re gone.”
“Then I’d be the one burning it for you.” Jiang Yan said. “I’ll definitely be the last one to leave this world.”
Lin Tao set down the puzzle piece. “Do you think it’s really appropriate for teenagers like us to be discussing such weighty topics?”
Jiang Yan touched the tip of his nose. “I turn twenty after New Year’s.”
The subject of age hadn’t come up in a while, and Lin Tao had nearly forgotten the two-year gap between them. “What, do you want me to congratulate you? Twenty years old and still a classmate with your eighteen-year-old girlfriend?”
“……”
The corridor curtain was pulled back in the daylight, and from the hallway one could see the entire balcony clearly. When Yu Fengyan came upstairs with the maid, she spotted Jiang Yan standing on the balcony at a glance.
She walked forward a few steps. Just as she caught a hint of sound, Jiang Yan turned his head with sharp alertness. Seeing it was her, he relaxed his furrowed brow slightly and lowered his voice toward the phone. “Something’s come up. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay.”
Lin Tao hung up first. Jiang Yan put away his phone, turned, and looked at Yu Fengyan. “Something the matter?”
“Nothing much.” Yu Fengyan smiled gently. “You barely ate at breakfast — I had the kitchen make you some small wontons.”
At those words, Jiang Yan glanced at the maid standing behind them holding a tray.
On the tray sat a white porcelain bowl — wontons bobbing in broth, translucent as jade — with a matching porcelain spoon, and beside it a small dish of side dishes.
Jiang Yan wanted to say he wasn’t hungry, but when he met Yu Fengyan’s gaze and thought of the decisions he had been making behind her back, he could only nod. “Come sit in the room for a bit.”
The two went to Jiang Yan’s room. The maid set down the tray and left together with the cleaning staff.
Jiang Yan picked up the porcelain spoon and scooped up a wonton. He hesitated for a moment, then raised his eyes to her. “If one day, the condition for you to marry him is that you relinquish all inheritance rights to Jiang family assets — would you agree?”
Yu Fengyan’s smile stiffened. “Why bring this up so suddenly?”
Jiang Yan pressed on. “Answer me first. If that choice were real, would you agree to give everything up?”
A brief silence.
Yu Fengyan nodded, and her eyes were full of a warmth she could not hide. “My reasons for being with your father were never about being the so-called Madame Jiang of the Jiang family. From beginning to end, I only ever wanted to be his Madame Jiang — his and his alone.”
Jiang Yan drew his gaze back, lowered his eyes, and ate his wontons quietly. “I understand,” he said softly.
That evening, Jiang Yan received a call from Jiang Mulan asking him to meet the following day at a law firm in the city center.
Over the phone, Jiang Mulan’s voice was unusually calm. “Ten in the morning. I hope you won’t be late.”
Jiang Yan said nothing in reply and simply hung up.
A few seconds later, a text came in from Jiang Mulan with the address of the law firm.
Jiang Yan replied with a single character of thanks, then switched off his phone, lay open-eyed in the dark quiet of his room, and felt a profound, untroubled calm.
The following morning, Jiang Yan declined the car the household manager had arranged for him. “I’d like to take a walk around the area. No need to trouble yourself.”
With that, he walked straight out the door.
The household manager, who had spent decades at the Jiang residence, watched the young man’s tall, lean figure and seemed to see the Jiang Suiyuan of many years ago.
The snow in the villa district had long since been cleared away. The asphalt road was clean and gleaming. As Jiang Yan passed a familiar intersection, he spotted a female actress from a few years back locked in a heated dispute with a man inside a car.
He was about to walk past, but then thought that Lin Tao would probably enjoy this kind of gossip, so he casually snapped a photo and sent it to her.
His phone was immediately bombarded with replies:
??????? Oh my GOD!!!!!! Is she — isn’t she He Jinren, who just won the Golden Horse Award this year??!!!! Wasn’t she rumored to be with that guy??? MY WORLD IS CRUMBLING!! Wait?? This guy looks SO familiar!! NO WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! Isn’t this Nai Gou Yang, the idol who blew up from this year’s talent competition!!! The fourth wall has shattered [You do you, I’m already dead.jpg]
……
Jiang Yan didn’t really understand all of her fan-community vocabulary, but looking at her reaction, he inexplicably felt like laughing.
The whole way there, Lin Tao kept sending him a steady stream of commentary about this actress He Jinren — from her debut to her breakout to winning this year’s award.
Jiang Yan had no interest in any of it, but seeing how enthusiastically she was going on, he said nothing and occasionally offered a reply or two:
She must be really hardworking, right? Yeah, pretty hardworking.
……
She’s seriously SO dedicated. Dedicated, yeah.
……
But WHY is she getting involved with Nai Gou Yang!? No idea. Want me to go ask her? Wait, really?! [Starry eyes.jpg] What do you think? Bye bye. 886.
……
This kind of banter continued all the way until Jiang Yan got out of the car. He paid the fare, got out, met up with the lawyer he had arranged in advance, and then sent Lin Tao a voice message. “I have something to take care of. Talk later.”
Lin Tao replied with a simple okay.
Jiang Yan closed out of WeChat, opened the text Jiang Mulan had sent the previous night, followed the address, and found the law firm.
Jiang Mulan had been waiting there a full hour before him.
When they met, neither said much. The matter had been settled in advance; coming here was merely going through the formalities.
Jiang Yan took the documents Jiang Mulan had prepared and handed them to his own lawyer.
Jiang Mulan took his people and left, leaving the two of them alone in the conference room.
The lawyer spent over ten minutes reading through everything, then spoke with Jiang Yan. “There are no major problems with the content. However, the document also stipulates that if Jiang Suiyuan later draws up a separate will bequeathing some portion of assets to you, you may not accept those either. This is a compulsory clause, and you have the right to reject it.”
Jiang Yan shook his head. “If I’ve decided to give it all up, then it should be thorough. Any other issues?”
“None.” The lawyer returned the documents to him. “Once you’ve decided, you may sign.”
Jiang Yan raised his eyes, gazed through the glass wall at Jiang Mulan standing outside, and rose. “Then let’s go,” he said simply.
The notarization process that followed proceeded smoothly under the Zhou family’s arrangements.
Once everything was in order, Jiang Yan and the lawyer did not linger. They left the firm quickly.
Jiang Mulan watched his figure disappear through the doorway, then turned back and picked up the notarized document from the table. At the very end, he saw the line Jiang Yan had written:
I voluntarily relinquish all inheritance rights to the above-listed assets and all rights to accept any related gifts or bequests.
Signed: Jiang Yan.
If Jiang Yan were not a member of the Jiang family, Jiang Mulan thought they might have become very good friends.
But there were no “ifs” in this world.
Besides, if Jiang Yan had no connection to the Jiang family, he might never have crossed paths with someone like him at all.
……
A moment of silence.
Jiang Mulan let out a quiet breath, turned and handed the notarized document to the lawyer, smoothed his collar, and said quietly, “Let’s go.”
Everything that followed unfolded just as Jiang Yan had envisioned.
On New Year’s Eve, at the Jiang family reunion banquet, Jiang Mulan took the initiative to raise a toast to Yu Fengyan in front of everyone. “Auntie Yu, thank you for taking care of my father all these years. I was young and ignorant before and was often disrespectful to you. I hope you’ll forgive me. Consider this toast my apology.”
Yu Fengyan had never imagined that Jiang Mulan would one day do such a thing. She was momentarily stunned and at a loss — until Jiang Yan nudged her quietly from below the table. “Brother is toasting you.”
Yu Fengyan came back to herself, visibly overcome with emotion. Usually so composed, she became flustered and tongue-tied. “Mulan, I…”
“Auntie Yu, you don’t need to say anything. I already know.” Jiang Mulan cut her off gently, then turned to Jiang Suiyuan. “Dad, all these years you’ve held back giving Auntie Yu a proper place in your life out of consideration for my feelings. Now I’m grown up — it’s time you gave her a proper name.”
These words were even more shocking than Jiang Mulan toasting Yu Fengyan had been, and the two Jiang elders looked particularly bewildered.
“Ah Lan, for your father to take a second wife is a serious matter. We still need to ask your maternal grandparents’ opinion first.” Patriarch Jiang was the first to speak, though in his heart he understood that for Jiang Mulan to say this today, he must have already consulted the Zhou family elders in advance.
“Grandfather, my maternal grandparents have given their consent as well.” Jiang Mulan looked at Jiang Suiyuan and Yu Fengyan. “Only — I’ll be going abroad to study very soon and won’t be able to attend Father and Auntie Yu’s wedding.”
Yu Fengyan’s eyes grew red-rimmed, and a feeling of profound relief washed over her — all of the hardship had finally yielded something sweet. “Your father and I are at an age where we should skip the wedding ceremony.”
“There should still be some kind of formality.” Jiang Mulan thought for a moment. “Why don’t you register the marriage soon and we can have a meal together as a family?”
“I think that’s a fine idea.” Jiang Suifeng, who had already been told the situation by Jiang Mulan, played along with a remark that sounded perfectly genuine. “How about the eighth of this month? I’ve checked — it’s an auspicious day.”
The matter of registering the marriage was settled right there at the table.
Jiang Mulan glanced across the long table at Jiang Yan — a look that seemed to carry a reminder.
Jiang Yan smiled and pressed a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. Jiang Mulan’s brow furrowed; he looked as if he wanted to say something, but Jiang Yan had already turned his gaze away and was leaning in to murmur something in Yu Fengyan’s ear.
Jiang Mulan watched Yu Fengyan’s expression shift — briefly stunned, then turning to look at him with a sudden, unguarded gaze. He curved his lips in a faint nod and turned away, no longer paying attention to the mother and son.
During the break between courses, Jiang Yan brought up the matter of the property agreement with Yu Fengyan. She didn’t think too much of it, only feeling that she owed Jiang Yan something. “I understand what you mean. I’ll discuss the property matter with your father.”
“I’m not asking you to discuss it. I’m asking you to make certain it happens.” Jiang Yan said. “Have you considered why Jiang Mulan would agree so easily to let you marry in? Simply because I came back — he’s afraid that my presence will threaten his position, so he had no choice but to placate you.”
Yu Fengyan was genuinely surprised at how clearly he saw through it all.
“I chose to come back, but I have no interest in anything the Jiang family has to offer. I don’t want your situation affecting my normal life.” Jiang Yan pressed his lips together. “In ancient times, emperors’ sons fought each other to the point of fratricide and parricide. Do you think the Zhou family elders would be above doing something harmful to me to protect Jiang Mulan’s position?”
Yu Fengyan fell silent.
Jiang Yan gave a sardonic laugh. “After all, a car accident that leaves no trace these days can very easily be ruled an accident.”
His safety was more important to Yu Fengyan than anything else. Jiang Yan barely even needed to wager on it — he could be certain she would agree.
“I’ll talk to your father about the property matter.” Yu Fengyan looked at Jiang Yan. “For now, stay in the Jiang household. Don’t go anywhere, and if you absolutely must go out, tell me first.”
“I know.” Jiang Yan smiled. “I’ll be careful.”
……
When he returned to the table, Jiang Yan glanced over at Jiang Mulan and sent him a text message: “Don’t worry. Everything will go as you wish.”
Jiang Mulan read the message and their eyes met briefly across the table. He said nothing more.
After New Year’s Eve, Jiang Suiyuan and Yu Fengyan were often absent from the house.
A few days later, Yu Fengyan, under the joint notarization of the cooperative legal teams of both the Zhou and Jiang family enterprises, signed a prenuptial agreement and a notarized document renouncing all inheritance rights.
The eighth day of the month. An auspicious day on the traditional calendar. The wind had calmed, the snow had stopped, and sunlight was beginning to peek through.
Jiang Suiyuan and Yu Fengyan went early in the morning to register their marriage. When they held the two red marriage certificates in their hands, both of them were overcome with a sense of having woken from a long dream.
And Yu Fengyan had finally, at last, married the man she had wanted to marry since the age of eighteen.
That evening, Jiang Suiyuan booked an entire floor of the most luxurious hotel in Xixi City to host their guests. Media came and went; the story of the head of Jiang Enterprises rekindling a romance with his first love quickly swept the entertainment headlines across Xixi City.
Jiang Yan stood in the shadows, watching Yu Fengyan’s radiant smile beneath the brilliant lights. The coldness and resistance in his eyes were gone.
The ice had melted. In its place: only softness.
He gave a quiet laugh, then turned his head and caught sight of Jiang Mulan standing not far off, his gaze falling in this direction.
Perhaps noticing that Jiang Yan had looked over, Jiang Mulan walked toward him without hesitation. “What, not going over to offer a word of congratulations?”
Jiang Yan looked at the throng of guests and clinking glasses. The warmth in his smile faded slightly. “So many people — they don’t need one more.”
“Are you really going to leave the Jiang family?” Jiang Mulan asked.
Jiang Yan’s expression grew still. “Of course I will.”
“If there were no blood between us.” Jiang Mulan looked at him. “I think I would have wanted to be your friend.”
“There are no ifs. We will never be friends, and certainly not brothers. Not before, not now, not ever.”
Jiang Mulan was silent.
“I’ve done everything I set out to do. I hope that in the future you won’t target my mother. Honestly speaking, she doesn’t owe your family anything.” Jiang Yan gazed into the distance, his expression briefly distant. “She has only ever owed one person in her entire life.”
Jiang Mulan looked at him. “Who?”
“My father.”
Jiang Mulan stared at him in puzzlement.
Jiang Yan offered no further explanation. He turned and walked back into the shadows, his back to Jiang Mulan, raising a hand in a casual farewell. “I’m going. No need to see me off.”
No need to meet again, ever. And at last, all of this was finally over.