After eating and drinking their fill, everyone was relaxed and lazy. Ban Wei made clicking sounds with his mouth. The little Yorkshire Terrier couldn’t stay still and put its front paws up on the table edge again, tongue out, tail wagging left and right, making the silver bell ring.
Long Qi looked at this dog.
She kept feeling it looked familiar.
“The meaning of ‘undead person’ is…” Ban Wei placed his elbow on the table, pursuing the question. “No possibility of being together?”
“The other party is dating someone. I have emotional cleanliness standards.”
At the same time, her phone vibrated, the lit caller ID showing: Dong Xi.
Her heart immediately suspended for a moment. Long Qi didn’t pick up that conversational thread. She left the wall, pushed herself up with her hands, and without a word went around Ban Wei. Ban Wei looked up at her: “Where are you going?”
The door slid open with a “swish.” Wu Jiakui propped up her chin, flicking the liquor off her fingers, watching her.
“Taking a call.”
The door shut with a “click.”
At the washbasin next to the Japanese restaurant’s restroom, a curtain separated the clamor outside. There was no one on either side. She leaned against the counter edge, her heart clenching in waves. Then she answered the call and brought it to her ear.
“…Hello?”
The other side was silent.
Quiet, very quiet. After five heartbeats, Dong Xi’s voice slowly came through: “After I hung up on you that day, you never called back again.”
She remembered the call she’d taken at the convenience store entrance that day.
“That time…”
“Wrong number, right?”
Dong Xi asked.
The calmer the words, the more intense the guilt. Her affirmative “yes” stuck in her throat, unable to come out—as if she knew a knife was hidden inside that could pierce through the phone waves and hurt someone. She paced in front of the washbasin, brows furrowed.
“Dong Xi…”
“You didn’t dial wrong. That call was made by Jin Yiken.”
Just as she’d finished brewing herself to confess her “crime,” she was cut off instead. Her heart sank heavily. Her slowly pacing steps also stopped. She asked back: “Wha… what?”
“I said you might have dialed wrong, otherwise you definitely would have called back, but he didn’t believe me.”
“He didn’t believe you, and then what?”
Perhaps she’d asked back too quickly—Dong Xi’s response was slower instead. After a silence, she said: “He broke the SIM card in half.”
Then she added: “When I left, he was using his laptop.”
“What was he using his laptop for?”
“It seemed,” Dong Xi said, “he was looking at flight information.”
Her head gradually began to throb.
Dong Xi said: “Also, nothing substantial happened between me and Zhang Muyi. Don’t have any psychological burden about it.”
…
“From now on, the only thing I can do is not contact you first. I hope I never meet another girl like you again, and you shouldn’t meet a second me either.”
Click—after saying this sentence, Dong Xi’s call decisively hung up, depriving Long Qi of her “right to explain” and “right to question.” She stood frozen in place, listening to the dial tone on the other end. A full five seconds later she finally reacted, swishing aside the curtain with one motion.
At the same time, she dialed Si Bolin’s number.
When passing the private room, waitstaff were delivering food. The door was open. Ban Wei saw her rapidly passing figure and stuck his head out: “Where are you going?”
Lao Ping was greeting people ahead. Seeing her come, he waved at her: “Qi Qi, come. Teacher Jiang is the life producer for our production. You and Teacher Jiang…”
“Si Bolin!” As soon as the other side picked up, she asked, “Jin Yiken can’t receive my voice messages at all! Where is he!”
She swooshed past between Lao Ping and others, footsteps carrying wind. After exiting the shop door, cold air swept over. Cars whooshed past on the road. Her hair was blown to one side. She raised her hand to hail a taxi.
Behind her, the sound of chair legs scraping came from inside the shop. Ban Wei was the first person to follow out, shouting at her—what he was shouting, she didn’t hear. She only heard that after a few seconds’ reaction, Si Bolin’s voice slowly returned to her: “How would I know?”
“How could you not know!”
A taxi whooshed past without stopping. Wu Jiakui came out behind Ban Wei, draped in Ban Wei’s jacket, short hair hanging by her ears brushing against her face.
“You two are thick as thieves. Even if Jin Yiken cut contact with his parents, he wouldn’t cut contact with you! I know now that he wants to leave, but where is he going, for how long—whatever you know, tell me. Is it that difficult?!”
Si Bolin didn’t answer her. She hailed a second car against the wind: “I’ve already made all preparations to let him cool down. He wants to see me. He can’t possibly be as unyielding as he’s acting. Right now you’re the only person who can change this situation. As long as you tell me where he is and I go find him, this matter will be over!”
After saying this sentence, her abdomen hurt from overexertion. A taxi happened to stop by the roadside. She braced herself against the car roof, exhaling a breath.
Perhaps he heard that exhale.
A slight sound of dishes and utensils clinking came from Si Bolin’s end, then he said: “He’s just going back to England for classes.”
“Has he already booked a plane ticket?”
“Booked it.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
The driver honked once to urge her. Si Bolin continued: “What a coincidence—right about now.”
“How long does it take to get to the airport from here?” She immediately bent down to ask the driver.
“Which airport? Jiangxi Airport is far from here. Gongqiao International Airport is a quarter hour away.”
“Gongqiao International.” Si Bolin answered over the phone.
She got in the taxi. Just as she closed the car door, it opened again with a “click.” Wu Jiakui got in without a word. A wave of cool fragrance swirled in the air in small curls. Ban Wei saw her get in the car and reacted quickly, jumping into the front seat of the taxi: “Where are we going, where!”
“Long Qi!” Lao Ping’s throat scraped with sparks as he rushed toward the car from the shop entrance.
“To Gongqiao International Airport.”
Lao Ping’s hand had just grasped the car door when Wu Jiakui, without looking sideways, rolled up the window. Lao Ping knocked on the window from outside, then pointed his finger, saying harsh words. She turned a deaf ear.
She had absolutely no time to worry about these two people, Ban Wei and Wu Jiakui.
The fifteen-minute journey was finally completed in ten minutes under her intense urging. She entered the terminal. At that moment Si Bolin called her again. She rushed through the crowded hall, wanting to ask about the gate and flight number. Si Bolin spoke before her: “Stop rushing.”
“What do you mean stop rushing? Can flights be that punctual? Don’t they all get delayed by half an hour or an hour!”
“I reached him.”
Her steps slowed. She swept back the hair from her forehead, controlling her emotions as she said: “Send me his phone number. I’ll call right now.”
“No need.”
Her steps stopped completely. Her hand trembled as she asked: “Why?”
“He left a message. Do you want to hear it? I suggest you don’t.”
“What message?”
Si Bolin was someone who put all the ugly words up front, so after she asked, he held nothing back: “He said the reason he won’t see you isn’t to punish you.”
…
“It’s that he doesn’t want to be with someone like you anymore. Too boring.”
Her chest heaved. The crowd surged. Ban Wei and Wu Jiakui finally caught up with her. Surrounding pedestrians, one by one, two by two, three by three, successively looked this way.
She laughed once, choking with a sob: “Have him say this sentence to me himself.”
“Can’t reach him. Took off. Phone’s off.”
“He couldn’t possibly treat me this way. Have him say this sentence to me personally.”
The surrounding pedestrians finally recognized her and Ban Wei and Wu Jiakui behind her. Those taking photos, discussing, running over—she paced in place, then harshly declared into the phone to Si Bolin: “What kind of ability is having someone else handle a breakup? It hasn’t even been a full week—what right does he have to flee at the last minute!”
Ban Wei was on the phone three meters away from her, pacing toward her following the meaning of whoever was on the other end. Suddenly encountering her outburst, he froze two steps away: “L-Lao Ping is looking for you…”
She took the phone from him: “I want a ticket to London. Flying tonight.”
“You dare!” Lao Ping smashed back these two words, furious to the heavens. “Come back!”
“There are still six days until filming starts. One round trip only takes a few days!”
“There are so many things to prepare in six days! Who knows if you’ll still have the mind to come back after staying there! Usually you can make trouble, but at this critical juncture you’re not allowed to leave the crew for even one day! Do you know how important this production is, how many big names are scrambling to get on? There are plenty of cases of replacing main actors before filming! You’re a newcomer—what are you so cocky about! I’m telling you if you dare leave today, you can forget everything! Your whole life will be like this! Ruined!”
At the same time Lao Ping hung up, she also threw her phone at Ban Wei. Ban Wei took the hit with a muffled grunt of pain. The surrounding pedestrians’ phone cameras pointed at the two of them, taking photos. Flight information kept updating. Wu Jiakui stood three meters away, draped in the jacket, quietly watching. Long Qi’s eyes stung. She glanced at the flight display board, full of resentment, then brought her own phone to her ear. Si Bolin was very patient and hadn’t hung up. She said: “Fine! Then you also take a message to him—this damn thing isn’t over.”
Biting out the words, eyes red, saying this sentence.
…
But she couldn’t sleep.
And couldn’t figure it out either.
That night, she smoked several cigarettes and drank four cans of beer. It was cold, so cold. She sat on the sofa by the hotel room window. The heat was on and the window was open—cold and hot alternating, warming her while also keeping her alert. Her assistant helped her clean up beer cans and cigarette butts, saying softly: “Uncle Ping… is still angry.”
Half a cigarette was pinched between her fingers. The breath she exhaled turned into a ball of white mist. She silently raised her eyes. The assistant lowered her head to clean the ashtray, emptied the ashes, and said nothing more.
The wind outside the window came in waves, blowing until the tip of her nose turned red, moisture forming at the corners of her eyes.
Her campus network account, unused for so long, was suddenly tagged by multiple people. The notification sound rang over and over in the cold air. Bai Aiting must have learned something in advance—on her status bar that had been blank for months, she branded four characters: weary bird returns to nest.
All the busybodies who left comments under this status tacitly tagged Long Qi’s account.
She deactivated her account.
Around five in the morning, Ban Wei called to console her, then hesitantly asked: “That car… actually I got it settled for you yesterday. Do you still need it?”
She didn’t answer.
Ban Wei said: “I’ll keep it reserved for you for a few days. When you’ve decided, just tell me. Breakups… it’s nothing. Just the first week is a bit rough…”
She hung up the call.
Then she sniffled once, her ice-cold thumb scrolling through her contacts, looking for Jin Yiken’s phone number, and dialed it.
As always, voicemail. She followed the prompts and pressed keys, waiting until she could leave a message, listening to the boundless silence on the other end.
“Up until now…” she said, “I’ve only just realized you’re truly angry.”
Hugging one knee, looking at the streetlamp outside the window, fine threads of rain in the dim yellow lamplight. She sniffled again: “This move of yours, I really didn’t expect it. Pretty fast action. Pretty strong effect too.”
She paused for a while, looking at those sprinkling threads of rain for a long time. Later she exhaled in one breath, and a tear also fell: “Anyway, fine, I get what you mean now. The clothes you left at my place, the keys to that apartment, I’ll give them all to Si Bolin. I don’t plan to take the things at your place. If you think they take up space, just throw them away…”
She choked again, emotions finally losing control, asking him: “Is it that hard to give me a little time? Do you really have to do it to this extent? A person like me—am I not still the person you loved for three years? How can you say break up and break up so easily? Doesn’t your heart hurt?”
After inhaling, holding back more words she wanted to say, she just said one sentence: “…I’ve been missing you a lot since the day before yesterday.”
Message ended.
Her phone slid onto the coffee table. Tears fell one by one onto her knee. She smoked that remaining half cigarette, looking out the window. The threads of rain drifted onto her face. The yellow lamplight of that streetlamp glowed weakly. A few minutes later, as dawn’s first light appeared, it silently extinguished.