Zong Hang seemed to have been waiting specifically to be called upon, as if only then could he make his proper entrance.
He rose from the boat, stepping onto the platform with one foot. Yi Sa didn’t move, tilting her head up to look at him.
A year had passed – he was still familiar yet somewhat strange. He appeared taller than in her memories, or perhaps it was because she had rarely “looked up” at him this way before. He wore shorts with bare feet and a loose shirt, topped with a bamboo hat – dressed completely like a local fisherman now, except his complexion still stood out distinctly. He truly was resistant to tanning; despite the harsh sun on the water, his skin had only taken on a light wheat color, making him particularly noticeable among the dark-skinned fishermen and women.
Seeing that she didn’t move, Zong Hang simply sat down beside her, taking off his bamboo hat to ask, “Is it too sunny? Want to use this?”
Yi Sa shook her head.
Since she didn’t want it, he decided not to wear it either – a grown man couldn’t be more delicate than a woman.
Zong Hang held the hat in his hands, spinning it around playfully.
The surroundings gradually quieted as Li Zhenxiang and the others tactfully went about their own business, and the crying child was led away. Wu Gui stood not far off, his reflection doubling his presence in the slow-moving water below. Zong Hang’s gaze traveled downward, noticing Yi Sa’s bare feet in the water, the tattoo on her ankle rippling with the current, wet and glistening.
After a while, Yi Sa asked him, “Why did you come?”
Her tone was calm, showing no signs of anger. Zong Hang’s heart settled – he had worried she might drive him away as soon as she saw him, without rhyme or reason.
Looking at their reflections in the water, Zong Hang said, “I really missed you, so I came to find you.”
Perhaps it was a small fish swimming by that caused their reflections to ripple and dance. In the reflection, Yi Sa was smiling.
Then she asked him, “Have you been doing well?”
Zong Hang nodded.
“Got a girlfriend?”
Zong Hang said, “No.”
Yi Sa remained silent for a moment before commenting, “Useless.”
Zong Hang defended himself righteously: “What can I do? I just can’t catch up to her.”
After a pause, he asked her, “How about you? How have you been?”
Footsteps sounded from behind, and Yi Sa turned to look – it was Li Zhenxiang carrying a basin of pig lungs to feed A-Long and A-Hu. The basin was heavy, making the wooden planks of the platform creak with each step she took.
Yi Sa turned back, her mind briefly blanks before remembering what Zong Hang had asked: “Just getting by, I suppose.”
She felt it was better to be honest – who would believe her if she said life was perfectly wonderful?
Zong Hang said, “So life’s just average then? Why don’t you come with me? I can guarantee you’ll have a better life than before.”
What nonsense was this? Yi Sa looked at him for a long while before bursting into laughter, saying, “You’re crazy.”
She pressed her hand against the platform, preparing to stand up. Zong Hang reached over and enveloped her hand in his.
The weather was quite hot, and where his palm met the back of her hand was even hotter. His hand felt foreign to him, the skin on the back of his hand jumping like the Pop Rocks candy he ate as a child, uncontrollable, endless jumping.
But he gripped even tighter, slowly pulling her hand toward him, saying softly, “I’m serious, Yi Sa, I’m serious.”
Yi Sa remained silent, her gaze sliding to the hand he was holding. That section of wrist felt tingly and numb, her body gradually growing hot, though her hearing was clearer than usual: over there, Li Zhenxiang was still feeding A-Long and A-Hu, and inside the house, people were chattering noisily. Fortunately, no one had come out.
Her other hand gripped the rough edge of the platform, feeling as if that was her only remaining hand.
Zong Hang continued.
“Shouldn’t people move forward? This past year, you said you wanted peace, so I didn’t disturb you. But you’ve tried it, and it hasn’t been great, just getting by. So why not try something better? Come with me, give me a chance to try, even if it’s just for a year. If after a year you don’t like it, nothing stops you from going back to your peaceful life, right?”
Yi Sa found his words incredibly childish, wanting to laugh but couldn’t. After a long while, she said, “Zong Hang, I got checked out, and this past year, my health isn’t as good as before. I’m going to die.”
Zong Hang didn’t let go: “I know, I knew a year ago. I’ve thought it through, and I don’t care at all.”
He turned to look at Yi Sa: “The sunset is about to sink, but people who appreciate it don’t stop appreciating it just because it will disappear. The night-blooming cereus blooms so briefly, yet many people stay up all night just to watch it flower. In this world, many beautiful things disappear quickly, but that doesn’t prevent them from existing or stop people from loving them.”
Yi Sa laughed softly: “This is different.”
Zong Hang was stubborn: “To me, it’s the same. I know you’re afraid that we can’t be together for long, afraid that you’ll leave too early and I’ll be left alone in pain, unable to move on. You’re the type who would stop eating for fear of choking…”
Yi Sa said, “That’s called giving up eating for fear of choking.”
Maybe so, but who cares? Zong Hang continued with his point: “If I promise you I won’t be like that, would you stop worrying?”
Yi Sa didn’t understand – how could he promise such a thing? How would he guarantee it?
Zong Hang spoke seriously: “People can only talk about loss after they’ve possessed something. Being able to lose means having possessed. Gaining and losing naturally go together, just like light creates shadows, like how a palm has both front and back.”
“Similarly, people can have two choices: one is to always be grateful for what was gained, even after losing it; the other is to remain in pain over the loss, despite having once possessed it – why must you assume I would choose the second option?”
Yi Sa listened intently. Zong Hang had never been particularly good at philosophizing, but once he started, there was a kind of simple authenticity that drew people in.
“If someone who has never seen light suddenly sees the sun in the sky, and later the sun disappears, must that person spend the rest of their life grieving because the sun will never return? Can’t they remain grateful in the darkness, always feeling fortunate for having witnessed the vast brilliance?”
“So Yi Sa, why must you assume I’ll suffer from loss? If we’re together, the future might be as you imagine – one person leaving first, one person remaining. Must the one who remains be miserable? Why can’t it be like…”
Suddenly, a voice interrupted: “Do you want rice noodles or rice soup?”
It was Li Zhenxiang. Having finished feeding A-Long and A-Hu, she remembered it was time to prepare dinner and came to ask their preference – the two had been talking so intently they hadn’t noticed her approach.
Zong Hang’s carefully built momentum was instantly disrupted. Yi Sa found Li Zhenxiang’s sudden question both abrupt and amusing, and couldn’t help but laugh.
Li Zhenxiang was puzzled: “What’s so funny? Which one do you want…”
Having rarely achieved such a good flow in their conversation, only to have it ruined, Zong Hang was frustrated: “Whatever, anything is fine.”
He pulled Yi Sa: “Come on, it’s too noisy here, let’s go somewhere else.”
He led Yi Sa onto the small boat, skillfully handling the oar. Wu Gui saw them and habitually tried to follow, but Zong Hang pushed against the platform with the oar, and the small boat quickly moved away.
Wu Gui stumbled, nearly falling into the water. After barely regaining his balance, he fixed his large eyes on Zong Hang with hatred. Zong Hang felt a flash of guilt, which quickly dissipated: anyway, Wu Gui was impossible to tame, never warming up to him.
Zong Hang rowed the boat away from the floating village, far from both the village and the shore, before finally stopping the oars and letting the boat drift with the current.
The sun was setting, coating the floating village, the lake, and the surrounding forests in a golden layer. They both sat on the boat’s edge, dipping their feet in the water – there were many fish here, occasionally nibbling at their feet, soft and slippery.
It felt strange trying to pick up the interrupted conversation, but Zong Hang felt he had expressed his main points well enough, so he got straight to the point: “I just want us to be together, for however long we can.”
“When it’s your time, I’ll be with you, so you won’t be lonely. Don’t worry about me – I might be sad for a while, but I’ll think more about all our beautiful memories instead of dwelling on the loss. When my time comes, I won’t be lonely either, with our shared memories accompanying me.”
He looked into Yi Sa’s eyes: “Is that okay?”
Yi Sa smiled, and after a long while, said softly, “That’s too hard, Zong Hang.”
Zong Hang said, “You’re not me. You think it’s hard, but to me, it’s fulfillment, mutual fulfillment. Rather than two people being unhappy separately in different places, why not be together and be happy together? Isn’t that a win-win?”
Even the term “win-win” came out. Yi Sa’s eyes grew moist, and after a pause, she said, “If you were alone that would be one thing, but you have family, you can’t just act on impulse…”
The mention of “family” seemed to animate Zong Hang’s expression even more. He said to Yi Sa, “As mature people, of course, we consider all aspects when thinking about things. Do you think I wouldn’t consider my family? I’ve already reached an agreement with them.”
He raised his phone, opened the “Loving Family” group chat, and sent a voice message: “Dad, Mom, you can send the video now.”
Yi Sa hadn’t expected that both Zong Bisheng and Tong Hong had prepared videos for her, and that Zong Hang hadn’t seen them beforehand. The family had agreed: if he could persuade Yi Sa, they would provide backup support with the videos; if he couldn’t convince her, he should back off and not even ask for the videos.
No wonder Zong Hang was practically wagging an invisible tail when he asked for the videos.
Zong Bisheng’s came through first.
Although these were pre-recorded videos, not real-time calls, Yi Sa still felt inexplicably nervous.
The first few seconds showed Zong Bisheng in workout clothes, sweating profusely on a treadmill. He was of medium height, with neatly combed-back hair and a sturdy build, fitting the image of a successful entrepreneur perfectly.
What was this about? Trying to give her an energetic first impression?
After the display, Zong Bisheng stepped off the treadmill and greeted her through the camera: “Sa Sa!”
Such enthusiasm made Yi Sa uncomfortable. Throughout her life, she had handled all sorts of awkward situations with ease, but she never knew how to receive others’ enthusiasm and kindness.
“Hang Hang told me you’re sick. Hey, Uncle wants to tell you, with technology so advanced nowadays, all difficult illnesses will be conquered in a few years, you shouldn’t worry at all. Or let Uncle take you running every day, look…”
As he spoke, he raised his arm to show off his muscles.
“Run for a few months, and your immunity will improve.”
The background changed – no longer the gym but in front of the company campus gates. Zong Bisheng wore a suit, standing straight-backed, making the video like a promotional clip: “Sa Sa, I feel Hang Hang really listens to you. Uncle very much welcomes you to live with us, help me reshape him. Hang Hang’s life planning still needs your involvement.”
“Of course, although Hang Hang keeps asking me to put in some good words for him, Uncle believes in being honest: if you don’t like him, Uncle won’t force you. He’s so pale, definitely not a popular type…”
Zong Hang watched the video silently: his real father, never giving him a face.
Tong Hong’s video came through next.
She had prepared carefully, styling her hair, applying light makeup, wearing a fitted qipao, and even a pearl necklace, and sitting properly at a table.
The setup was quite intimidating.
Tong Hong also called her Sa Sa: “Sa Sa, is Hang Hang there? Ask him to step away, there are some things Auntie wants to tell you alone.”
Surrounded by water on all sides in a small boat, Zong Hang muttered, “Where am I supposed to go?”
Tong Hong continued: “Hang Hang, don’t worry, Mom won’t do something like throwing money at Sa Sa to leave you. As you said, Sa Sa is even wealthier than me.”
Unexpectedly, Zong Hang had given Tong Hong this kind of warning, clearly having watched too many melodramatic TV shows. Yi Sa held back her laughter and pushed him: “Get in the water.”
Zong Hang wanted to hear what Tong Hong would say, but couldn’t resist Yi Sa’s insistence, so he reluctantly got into the water, slowly swimming away.
Yi Sa watched the screen.
Tong Hong was silent for a few seconds, seemingly allowing time for Zong Hang to leave. Yi Sa sat alone on the boat, feeling awkward, unconsciously fixing her hair and tugging at her clothes – completely unnecessary since Tong Hong couldn’t see her.
Tong Hong began speaking with a smile.
For some reason, when she smiled, Yi Sa suddenly felt a lump in her throat, finding her incredibly warm, like a long-lost relative.
“Sa Sa, Hang Hang told me about your illness. To be honest, at first, I couldn’t accept it. Don’t take it personally – what mother doesn’t hope for her son to find a healthy wife, for them to accompany each other for a long time?”
Her tone was intimate, truly like a heart-to-heart chat. Yi Sa unconsciously gave a soft “mm” in response.
“But later, after talking more with Hang Hang, I gradually came to terms with it. I want him to be happy, and happiness comes in many forms, not just long-term companionship. Being able to love someone truly and unconditionally, without calculating the outcome, is quite precious – better than those who drift through life never knowing what love is.”
“Hang Hang told me you’re afraid you’ll become ugly when the illness progresses and don’t want others to see. Silly child, go to any hospital – any serious illness is most tormenting in its final stages. Many people become unrecognizable, losing their physical characteristics, but go ask – do those who love them despise them? Do they give up?”
“Auntie understands your decision. It might not be what you truly want, but you think it’s the most appropriate, best for everyone, and you can bear the consequences, so you’re bearing it alone.”
Yi Sa’s vision blurred. Looking up, she saw Zong Hang floating nearby, just his head above water, watching her expectantly.
“But sometimes, don’t box yourself in. Things often have other, better solutions – it depends on how you look at it. Sa Sa, don’t have so many concerns. Hang Hang has come to find you, listen to his thoughts, give yourself a chance, and give others a chance too. Everyone dies eventually, but we shouldn’t stop living well just because we’ll die someday. If you have less time than others, that’s even more reason to live beautifully. If you don’t know how to live beautifully, come to Auntie, and I’ll teach you.”
The video ended there.
Yi Sa put the phone aside.
The sky had darkened, the wind had cooled, and so had the water.
The sound of splashing water grew closer as Zong Hang hurried back. Reaching the boat, he didn’t climb in immediately, just hung onto the edge looking at her.
“What do you say, Yi Sa?”
“Can you stop being so stubborn?”
“Let me arrange things, I can arrange them well. I’ve thought it all through. Doesn’t the Tai Sui like high-altitude cold places like the Three Rivers Source? It can last longer there. We’ll live in Qinghai, don’t stay here where it’s humid and hot. Also, we can spend more money to get water directly from the Three Rivers Source to drink, it might help somewhat…”
Yi Sa laughed through teary eyes.
Zong Hang’s heart jumped, sensing hope. He raised himself and placed his hand on her knee: “Okay?”
He held his breath waiting for her answer.
Yi Sa lowered her head and asked him: “How did you come to like me?”
She felt like she’d won the lottery: neither gentle nor particularly virtuous, never having done any great deeds, stubborn and irritating many people throughout her life. Then suddenly one day, this silly boy started following her, puffing and panting, as if custom-made to handle her bad temper, impossible to chase away.
Zong Hang smiled, hugging her knees and resting his dripping-wet chin on them, saying: “How would I know?”
He looked up at her as he spoke.
She was looking down, her eyes rippling with watery brightness, and in that brightness was his reflection.
Zong Hang asked, “Can I kiss you?”
Still the same Zong Hang, carefully asking permission before doing anything.
Yi Sa said, “You can.”
Then looking at him sideways, she asked: “Do you know how?”
At this, Zong Hang’s face fell.
Saying: “Who are you looking down on!”