Overdo - Once a Stunning Reflection

Once a Stunning Reflection

At twilight, the setting sun shone upon the sea, shattering into shimmering golden waves. The clouds in the sky shifted, the rose-purple gradually thinning into an arching cerulean, slowly seeping into a carmine red... On the royal blue canvas of the sky, streaks and wisps of flowing brilliance congealed, looking like spilled watercolors slowly drying. The evening breeze blew, seemingly lifting a fine powder. The wind was tinged with the briny scent of the sea, hot and heavy like a child’s breath, damp and humid as it pressed against one’s skin.

The weather was so sweltering that although the electric fan on the ceiling was spinning, the air it stirred did not bring any relief. Its low, buzzing drone, instead, felt like a mosquito pestering the ear, only serving to make one feel irritable and restless. Fine strands of hair clung to her forehead, and her clothes, dampened by sweat, stuck to her body in the most uncomfortable way. The tiny communication light before her flickered on again, and she repeated the script she had uttered countless times: "Hello, this is the switchboard. Where would you like to be connected?"

The person on the other end simply replied: "Fenggang."

She countered: "Where in Fenggang would you like to be connected?" Damn it—she couldn't just patch the line directly to the Fenggang switchboard. Listening to that nonchalant tone, she knew he was up to no good. Just as expected, the man asked her: "Miss, are you new here?"

In the past three days, she had encountered such flirting more than ten times. A mocking smile tugged at the corners of her lips unconsciously. The openers were always the same, and what followed would be questions about her surname, her age, or whether she would like to take a walk on the beach... In such hot weather, she really had no mood to deal with these bored lechers. She repeated her question: "Where in Fenggang would you like to be connected?"

"Fenggang Mansion."

Shameless. Over the past three days, they had tried every trick in the book; the funniest one was when someone asked her to connect to headquarters. This one was even more absurd. Did they really think they could come up with this? Fenggang Mansion? She answered him in a completely emotionless voice: "Sir, you do not have the authorization to be connected to Fenggang Mansion."

He chuckled, and she knew it—they were just bored and took pleasure in harassing the new girl. This bunch of guys, as Jiayi put it, saw a new recruit the way flies saw a rotten egg. Bah! She wasn't a rotten egg. She was pure and flawless, with no openings for them to exploit. Let's see how they would try to get to her.

She heard him ask, deadpan: "What if I'm 5579?"

Judging by that tone, it was as if 5579 had some special privilege. She had memorized the regulations thoroughly, and she replied instantly: "Lines starting with the digit 5 are not authorized to be connected to security levels above Grade 2. Mr. 5579, please hang up." Without further ado, she reached out and disconnected the line. Unfortunately, their skins were thicker than city walls; even after being rebuffed, they didn't feel the least bit embarrassed.

The next day was her day off. She had gone out to buy things and returned only after lunch hours had passed. The large cafeteria was empty save for her; it was a rare moment of peace. Unfortunately, fate was against her, as a fly arrived later than she did. He carried his tray, walked past her, and then circled back. Although she buried her head in her food, even a fool knew what he was about to say. Indeed, as soon as he spoke, he asked: "You must be the new girl, Ye Qinwei?" She recognized his voice; he was the 5579 from yesterday. She hadn't expected him to be so persistent. Please, couldn't he use a fresher routine? Even though he had found out her name, did he still have to use such uncreative, tired clichés to pester her?

She sighed. She was willing to bet that for the past few days, the name "Ye Qinwei" had been the number one trending topic in the entire base. This kind of treatment made one feel "flattered" to the point of exploding. She lazily lowered her chopsticks and glanced at the fly before her. He was actually quite handsome; it was a waste for him to be a lecher. She asked: "Next, are you going to ask if you can sit here? I'll tell you right now: no."

He laughed and sat down brazenly anyway: "Just because you say I can't sit doesn't mean I can't. This is a cafeteria, not your living room."

She didn't even have the energy to roll her eyes. Shameless. There was no need to lower herself to his level. She would just ignore him and see what he could do. To her slight surprise, he didn't say another word for the rest of the meal. When she went to the sink to wash her bowl, he followed to wash his as well. She watched as he filled his bowl with water, shook it left and right, dumped the water out with a splash, and put the bowl back on the rack. She finally couldn't help but blurt out: "You're done washing?"

He said: "Of course. How else is it supposed to be washed?"

Truly, gold on the outside, rot on the inside. Washing a bowl like that—she bet he hadn't even managed to rinse away the grease. She had never seen anything like it: "If you see mold growing on it tonight, don't be surprised."

His face flushed slightly, and he said: "I'm sorry. I've never washed a bowl before."

She hadn't expected him to blush. She asked: "Are you a pilot? How come you're eating here?" Flight pilots had their own specialized cafeteria. He hesitated for a moment and said: "No, I'm ground crew, too."

She asked: "Why did you come to eat only now?"

He answered honestly: "Actually, I already ate, but when I saw you come in, I ran over here too, and I had to order another meal—I'm stuffed to the point of bursting."

She giggled. She hadn't expected him to tell the truth. Looking at him, he had such a pitiful, innocent expression. Thinking about that heaping bowl of food—good heavens, she hoped he didn't give himself indigestion.

He asked: "I heard you're off today. May I invite you to go play at the beach?"

She thought for a moment and said: "Sure. Three o'clock in the afternoon, wait for me on the beach."

Heh! She would definitely go—yeah, right!

The three o'clock sun would bake him alive!

It was twilight again. Looking out from the tiny window, the sea was a bottomless ink-black, with only the last wisp of afterglow remaining in the western sky. The earth exhaled the day’s heat. Outside the window, the palm fronds swayed gently in the night breeze like fans.

As soon as she started her shift, the first call she received was one of angry exasperation: "Ye Qinwei, you stood me up!"

Oh! This voice was quite familiar; it was rare that he hadn't been baked to death. While trying her best to suppress a laugh, she calmly asked in return: "I only told you to wait for me on the beach; I never said I would go."

"Ye Qinwei!" The anger in his voice was so intense it almost seemed to ignite along the telephone line: "You actually played me, making me wait for you like a fool under the scorching sun for three whole hours?!"

Three hours? Good heavens, he hadn't fainted from heatstroke? The slight trace of guilt that surfaced amidst her amusement was disrupted by the gaze of her colleague nearby—she had violated regulations. She hurriedly said: "Where would you like to be connected?"

"I don't want to go anywhere." He sounded like he was fuming, his tone completely changed.

She made a face, knowing he couldn't see her anyway: "I'm sorry, then I'll have to ask you to hang up." She dutifully unplugged his line, hoping his temper wouldn't cause him to blow a gasket.

After finishing her overnight shift, she was overcome with fatigue. She walked toward the dormitory, her steps heavy and unsteady in the abyss of sleepiness. Just as she reached the intersection, someone suddenly stepped out from the side: "Ye Qinwei!"

This was bad. Judging by his appearance, he looked like he hadn't slept all night, having saved up all his energy to settle the score with her. Was he carrying a knife? Or a gun? She couldn't beat him even if she were empty-handed. To her surprise, he didn't approach her, but just looked at her from a distance. There was a touch of loneliness in his eyes: "Do you really dislike me that much?"

She didn't answer. He let out a long sigh and turned away slowly.

Perhaps it was because her eyes were heavy with sleep, or perhaps he was indeed incredibly handsome, or maybe something in her brain had malfunctioned—regardless, she blurted out: "Wait." Seeing him turn his head, she suddenly found herself speechless.

After a long while, she finally said: "I have the day off the day after tomorrow."

The brilliant light of the morning sun shone right on his face. As if illuminated by flowing light, his eyes sparkled with a dazzling radiance. He said: "I'll call you the day after tomorrow." The joy shining on his face made the sky seem bluer, the clouds whiter, and the sea breeze cooler.

When that day arrived, he did indeed call her. She changed her clothes and snuck out of the dormitory, feeling like a child doing something naughty. She followed him out feeling guilty, and fortunately, God was on her side; she didn't run into a single acquaintance. Otherwise, seeing the two of them together, wouldn't they think she was dating someone just a week after arriving? Damn it! How would she be able to show her face in public after that?

The street was even hotter; halfway through the short, narrow street, she was already dripping with sweat. He bought her a soda, and she gulped it down in one go. After putting down the bottle, she looked covetously at the one in his hand. He laughed and handed it to her; she took it without ceremony, took a big gulp without stopping for breath, and choked, her face turning crimson. He gently patted her back, which only made her feel embarrassed. A thought occurred to her, and she felt even more amused. She said: "This is funny. I still haven't asked—what is your name?"

He paused for a moment before saying: "My name is Qingyu."

She recited it: "Qingyu—'Water is too clear, and there will be no fish'? Or the 'qing' from 'lighter than a swan's feather'?"

He smiled: "No, it's the 'qing' from 'clear water,' and the 'yu' with the three-water radical."

She exclaimed: "It's all water! It's a flood."

They had walked the length of the street twice, and she felt a bit silly herself. He bought her papaya, then coconuts, and finally mangoes. She finally couldn't help but ask: "Why do you keep buying things for me to eat?" He said: "Because you look the most beautiful when you eat."

What kind of talk was that? She remembered the incident in the cafeteria and couldn't help but laugh. He remembered it too and just chuckled: "I was really stuffed that day—I didn't even eat dinner." She said: "Serves you right." But her tone involuntarily lost its edge, taking on a hint of sweetness instead. The mangoes were large and fragrant, tasting like honey when bitten into. She kept exclaiming how delicious they were, so he went to buy a few more pounds, saying: "I'll bring these back for you." As she walked behind him carrying the mangoes, she laughed and said: "Look, don't we look like street vendors?" He said: "If anyone wants to buy, I'll sell them all for five yuan." She scoffed, saying: "You bought them for one yuan, and you'd flip them for four? Do you think others are fools?"

He looked at her and said softly: "Others aren't fools, I'm the fool."

His gaze made her heart skip a beat, though she didn't know why. She only felt that his eyes were like the sea—deep enough to drown someone. She didn't dare to look anymore and turned her face away.

Suddenly, she heard him say in a low voice: "I'm sorry, I lied to you."

She was startled, looked at him, and asked: "What did you lie to me about?"

He hesitated for a moment before saying: "Last time, I lied and told you I was ground crew. I was afraid that if you knew I was a pilot, you wouldn't talk to me."

Her heart plummeted. She knew there was a distance between them. His demeanor, like a pampered child of the heavens, standing so casually among others, possessed a hidden, extraordinary distinction. So, he was a pilot. He looked at her, and a trace of sadness flickered in his eyes: "See? You're already planning to ignore me."

She truly didn't want people to say she was marrying above her station, but seeing him look at her like that left her in a state of inner turmoil. Pride could not resist the stirring of her emotions. She huffed and said: "Fine. Since you've confessed, I'll forgive you."

By the time she returned to the base, it was already late. She was afraid of running into someone, so she stopped at the intersection. He said: "I'll call you tomorrow." She shook her head hurriedly: "No." He said with a pout: "Then I'll come look for you tomorrow." She had to compromise: "Fine, you call me." He then smiled. Even after he had walked a long way, she looked back and saw he was still standing there watching her. It looked as if he wanted to watch her forever. She clutched the mangoes in her hand; they were heavy, but the sweet scent was intoxicating.

She walked back toward the dormitory. Night-blooming jasmine was planted along the roadside, the fragrance rich and heady. Under the moonlight, there were clusters of flower shadows, and the grass along the steps grew soft as a carpet. In the grass, the chirping of insects could be heard. She didn't know why her steps were so light, and her heart felt so light it wanted to sing. She remembered a little tune she had heard in childhood, the last line of which was "The moon shines on the flowing water." The moonlight was indeed as beautiful as water, warming one's heart.

Pushing open the dormitory door, she laughed as she said: "Look what I've brought back." She held the mangoes high, but everyone in the room looked up at her without a word. She sensed something was off and asked in surprise: "What's wrong? Usually, when you see food, you'd pounce on it."

Still, no one spoke. Only Jiayi hurried forward and asked her: "Did you go on a date with 5579?"

Her face turned crimson; she hadn't expected to be seen. Damn it, how would she be able to face anyone in the future? She said: "It wasn't a date—we just went... to buy fruit." The stares of the crowd finally made her uneasy. She looked at Jiayi, who sighed: "5579 didn't tell you what his name is?"

She was left confused by Jiayi, and replied hesitantly: "He only said his name was Qingyu." Jiayi turned away and said to her roommates: "See? I told you Qinwei didn't know."

She was completely bewildered and pressed for an answer: "What's wrong with him? Who exactly is 5579? Why are you all looking at me like this?" Zheng Shuyuan finally chimed in: "Qinwei is new, so it's true she wouldn't know—" Yu Anli glanced at her leisurely, her tone carrying a hint of sarcasm: "But you should have at least heard that there is a 'number one' figure in this base."

Number one? She remembered Jiayi's joke on the first day: "Mm, we have a number-one figure here." She hadn't taken it to heart at all, feeling he was at least a hundred thousand light-years away from her. Even though they were on the same base, he was an eagle in the sky, while she was just a common ant on the ground. Not in her dreams would there be any intersection. Her face turned deathly pale. Jiayi whispered: "You just arrived so you don't know, 5579 is Murong Qingyu. We only call him 5579 behind his back."

She felt as if she had fallen into a cold ocean, surrounded by raging, mountainous waves. He had only told her his given name, while deliberately hiding his surname. Murong Qingyu—he was actually Murong Qingyu.

She remembered the first time they met, when he asked her to connect him to Fenggang Mansion. It hadn't been to amuse himself at her expense; he really had been calling—calling home. She bit her lower lip tightly. The entire base knew who he was, but she alone didn't. So he had lied to her, treating her ignorance as a fun game. A pampered child of the heavens, on a whim, decided to tease her, spinning her around in circles. He must have been holding back his laughter until he was near internal injury.

She clenched her hands tightly. From childhood to now, she had never felt this way—hating someone so much that she wanted to drag him in front of her and interrogate him. She had been teased, teased by him like this. She hated him!

Halfway through the night, the room was quiet, and everyone was asleep. Everyone except her. A square of beautiful moonlight poured through the window, like silver satin spread out there. The wind brought the cool, briny scent of the sea. The mat beneath her had been warmed by her body temperature, imprinting thin, parallel lines on her arms. How could it be so easy—to leave a mark so easily? But it came quickly, and it would go quickly. When she woke up tomorrow, the mark would be gone.

Near noon, it was the hottest time of the day. The room felt like a steamer, leaving people sticky with sweat; the world seemed to boil in a purgatory-like heat. The signal light flickered rapidly. She struggled to keep her tone calm: "Hello, switchboard." His voice was cheerful and happy: "I just got down, and I'm calling you as soon as I returned to the barracks. You're on the morning shift, so let's go out and eat fish balls this afternoon."

The weather was so hot that even her heart felt scorched and cracked. She calmly countered: "Mr. Murong, where would you like to be connected?"

He went quiet on the other end. She could only hear his breathing through the headset, growing increasingly rapid until he finally said: "I didn't lie to you on purpose."

Her voice was as calm as stagnant water: "If you don't want to connect to a line, please hang up."

He said: "I really didn't lie to you on purpose."

She reached out and decisively unplugged the line.

There was no wind in the afternoon; it was suffocating. She was alone in the laundry room, washing her clothes, scrubbing them fiercely. Sweat dripped continuously from her forehead. She simply washed the bedsheets as well, washing until she was soaked in sweat. After getting more water, she went to wipe the mat. The weather was too hot; even the water felt warm to the touch. She wrung the towel out loosely and wiped carefully, as if she could wipe something away. When everything was finished, she threw the towel aside and sat there in a daze.

At twilight, she went to the water room to fetch water. As she turned the corner, she slowed her pace. He was standing far away under a phoenix tree, just watching her. As if suddenly realizing something, she sped up her pace and walked forward without looking at him. He caught up, as expected: "Ye Qinwei, listen to me."

She kept her mouth shut tight and walked faster, but his long legs were quick, and he caught up to her in a few strides: "Ye Qinwei, I've been waiting here all afternoon just to tell you this to your face. You can't be this unfair."

She finally spoke, her tone sharp and sarcastic: "Unfair? How am I unfair? Who is the one being unfair? What do you take me for, spinning me around in circles—is that fun?"

He said urgently: "I apologize. I'm saying I'm sorry. I didn't hide it on purpose; I was just afraid, afraid that as soon as you heard who I was, you would turn and walk away." She ignored him, and he gritted his teeth: "You can't do this. I didn't choose my family. You can't be this unfair, immediately putting me on your 'refused' list just because of my family."

Family? She stopped walking. Ha... he had such a prominent background. He was right; as soon as she knew who he was, she had immediately put him on the "refused" list. His face was full of anxiety, which softened her heart slightly. She sighed gloomily: "You're right—because we are essentially from two different worlds, so I have no choice but to refuse to associate with you."

His eyes seemed to shimmer with light: "You can't be this cruel. My family is my family, and I am me."

She said quietly: "Mr. Murong, you can say that, but I'm just an ordinary person. I don't want to enter your world, and I ask that you, too, do not enter mine."

He said: "Apart from my family, I'm just an ordinary person too." He stared intensely into her eyes, telling her clearly: "I like you, which is why I was afraid you would leave me once you found out my identity."

Having him say it so boldly and clearly made her ears ring. The whole world seemed to change instantly. The setting sun remained scorching, but his eyes were even more intense than the sunlight. It felt like tiny flames were flickering in her heart. That feeling was like bitterness, pain, sorrow, and shock, but even more so, it was like a faint but undeniable joy. She felt a bit panicked. He stood there, his expression so firm, like a reef that stood unshaken despite the crashing, mountain-like waves. He grabbed her shoulders: "Ye Qinwei, I like you. I've liked you since the first time I saw you. You don't dislike me either, right?"

A tiny voice in her heart said: Don't believe him, don't believe him. But his gaze was so focused, so focused that she dared not meet his eyes again. Her voice was soft, yet she said clearly: "I truly don't dislike you, but I can't bear your 'liking' because the distance between us is too great. Your background is extraordinary, and I am just a common, ordinary person."

He gripped her: "You can't be this unreasonable. You can't pass a death sentence on me based on unfounded charges."

She shook her head: "That's not unfounded. You know clearly that we are impossible."

He said: "Why impossible—you still don't believe me. I can swear, if I don't truly like you, may I fall from the sky and be smashed to pieces."

Her face turned deathly pale: "I don't want you to swear. Don't say things like that." He looked at her urgently: "Then, you believe me now, don't you? You're willing to give me a chance, right?"

She bit her lower lip and said: "There is no chance—we simply have no chance." He said: "What do you want me to do? What exactly do you want me to do? As long as you speak up, I will definitely try my best to do it."

She looked at him and said: "I just want you to leave. Don't come looking for me again."

He took a light breath and said: "I didn't expect you to be this cruel." He loosened his grip and took a step back. The sadness in his eyes made her unable to look directly at him. His voice was bitter: "Since you are unwilling to give me any chance, then I respect your wishes. I won't come looking for you anymore. Go."

She carried her water bottle and hurried forward, as if afraid that if she slowed her pace, she would not be able to stop herself from looking back. The western half of the sky was filled with golden clouds, gradually shifting to purple-red. The sun was close to the horizon, but the weather remained so hot that it made one want to cry.

In the evening, the weather became even more suffocating. She took a bath and was soaked in sweat again. After the lights went out, she tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. Jiayi, in the bed opposite, couldn't sleep either and whispered: "This weather is truly damnably hot." She murmured an "Mm." Seeing a patch of white light far away outside the window, she asked: "Are there night flights tonight?" Jiayi said: "Looks like it. The lights over on the runway are all on." Just as they were talking, a breeze blew, feeling very cool. Jiayi sat up in bed and said: "This breeze feels comfortable." Within a few minutes, the wind picked up, causing the windows to rattle. Zheng Shuyuan wasn't asleep either; she got up to hook the window latch and stood by the window, saying: "Finally, it's cool." Faint thunder rolled across the horizon, followed by a flash of arc-lightning; a thunderbolt sounded as if it were right by their ears, shaking heaven and earth. Jiayi said: "It's going to rain, I'm afraid it's a storm." Before the words had left her lips, there was a loud boom, and the wind blew the door shut. Rain began to fall sparsely, and within moments, a gale-force wind accompanied by a torrential downpour swept in. Ye Qinwei scrambled to close the windows, only to hear the emergency siren sounding. She turned to look at Jiayi. Zheng Shuyuan’s face was deathly white: "Terrible. The planes have run into a storm. They must be unable to land."

For some reason, her heart tightened: "I wonder which formation is flying tonight." Jiayi said: "You know just by looking at Shuyuan—of course, it's the Fourth Formation." Zheng Shuyuan’s boyfriend was in the Fourth Formation. Yu Anli was also awakened by them and said with sleepy eyes: "Don't worry, the Fourth Formation has 5579, so even if the control tower has to bet its life on it, it will get the formation to land safely." Ye Qinwei’s heart jumped, and she didn't know why that heart-wrenching feeling suddenly became so real. Zheng Shuyuan was filled with anxiety: "In this weather, there's nothing the control tower can do."

Ye Qinwei lay back down, but she couldn't close her eyes again. She remembered his vow and heard him clearly in her ears: "May I fall from the sky and be smashed to pieces." She had felt a vague sense of unease at the time, and now that unease made her toss and turn in her sleep. Oh, she didn't want him to say that, didn't want him to make such a vow, and even less did she want him to fulfill it. Even if he didn't truly like her, she didn't want him to fulfill such a vow. She wanted him safe and sound; she wanted him to be fine... She suddenly awoke in agonizing realization... She actually liked him too. She liked the way he laughed, liked his clear voice saying: "Ye Qinwei, I like you." She raised her hand to cover her eyes. Oh, but she couldn't; no matter what, she couldn't. His world was one she couldn't enter, and had no way to enter.

Zheng Shuyuan kept sitting up to listen for movement until she faintly heard the sound of aircraft engines, at which point she quieted down to listen. She also tilted her ears to catch the ethereal sound amidst the wind and rain, trying her hardest to capture the booming roar moving from far to near. One plane... two planes... three planes... four planes... she counted silently in her heart... She heard Zheng Shuyuan heave a long sigh of relief, and she, too, silently sighed in her heart. The entire formation of planes had landed. He had returned; he had returned safely.

After finishing her shift, she went to eat; she was alone in the cafeteria again. She (dazedly) remembered the situation from that day. Just as she was in a daze, a tall figure suddenly loomed before her. She looked up, and it was truly him. She sighed weakly, as if wanting to run away. He looked at her, his eyes filled with sorrow: "I'm sorry, I didn't keep my promise, but I really couldn't control my feet. Without realizing it, they brought me to you."

She didn't know what to say. He said: "I really made up my mind, determined to forget you, but I couldn't do it. Qinwei, why is it like this? You must have put a spell on me. I really couldn't do it."

She didn't want to hear him talk anymore. She jumped up and said: "I'm leaving."

He watched her quietly, his voice low and painful: "We ran into a storm last night. I only thought then, if God won't allow us to be together, then I won't come back. Only then would I be able to leave you." His eyes stared straight into hers: "I take back my words. I can't leave you because that's something I can't do. Unless you really dislike me, I will never let you go. Nothing can separate us—not my family, not the gossip of others. Ye Qinwei, I love you. Give me a chance; I will definitely make you believe me."

Her tongue felt tied, and she couldn't speak. The cafeteria was so quiet that she could hear the rustling of the palm trees outside the window. His gaze was like a flame, destroying everything in its path, unstoppable, burning straight into her heart. He stared her down: "Give me an answer. You tell me, you truly dislike me, and I'll turn around and leave immediately—oh, no, even if you really said that, I wouldn't leave. I would try, keep trying until you like me."

She had no way to fend him off. She only felt that his eyes were the sea—a sea that could drown her—but she was unable to stop herself from sinking into this sea. She heard her own tiny voice: "I like you too, but..."

He grabbed her shoulders in ecstasy, looking like a joyous child: "There is no 'but'. I love you. There is no 'but'. In this world, there is no 'but' that can stop me from loving you. Nothing, no one can stop me."

He said it so resolutely that she closed her eyes. The lord's heart is like a rock, the lady's heart is like reeds; the rock does not shift, the reeds are tough as silk. He was so reckless that she, too, could be reckless. Even if his world was a bottomless abyss, she would forge ahead without regret.

Happiness came so suddenly, so suddenly that it felt unreal. He and she often went out to eat at small restaurants together, arranged to dig for clams on the beach early in the morning, and held hands like children walking on the beach at twilight. The setting sun was so round, and the colorful clouds across the sky were like a bolt of brocade; the slanting sun was a flower upon the brocade. She had never seen such a beautiful sunset before, and he put his arm around her waist, letting her lean on his shoulder to watch nightfall slowly descend. Between the sea and the sky, people were so small; he and she were as small as two grains of sand. He said: "I am willing to be two grains of sand with you, never separating on this beach for a lifetime." She smiled slightly: "Silly talk, one wave and we'd be separated." His arm tightened: "No. Even if a wave sweeps me away, the next wave will send me back to you."

Stars in the east became clear and twinkled one by one. He said: "I'm going home this week. I want to confess our relationship to my mother. She will definitely have a way to speak for us in front of my father. Qinwei, my mother is the most understanding mother in the world; she will definitely like you."

She looked at the points of starlight and asked in a daze: "Really?"

He said: "Of course. My mother will definitely like the person I like. As long as I pass my mother's test, things will be easy to talk about with my father."

The night sky was dark blue as ink, the stars brilliant and numerous. The sea waves gently slapped the beach; he held her hand, the beach so soft that it felt like she was stepping on clouds.

After he left, the days seemed to turn into a long, endless wait; both the minute and second hands moved so arduously. He finally called, full of joy: "Qinwei, although Mother was a little reluctant, she said she would respect my choice."

Happiness came so easily. Her heart set at ease, she only urged him: "Don't cause unhappiness with your family because of me." He laughed loudly: "How could I? Although Mother expressed opposition, seeing that my attitude was firm, she went along with it." Mothers in the world were all like this, right? She smiled sweetly: "Rest assured on your break. I'll wait for your return."

He hummed an affirmative and said: "Mother asked me to stay for a few more days, and I think I should accompany her more." He added: "If you can't eat because of the heat, go out to eat." She said: "I know. Don't worry." He whispered: "But I keep feeling uneasy. You won't start liking someone else because I'm not there, will you?"

My God! She exclaimed lightly: "To hell with you! Liking you is already trouble enough. Where would I have the energy to have a change of heart?"

He chuckled. She suddenly remembered that there was a switchboard on the other end that could hear both of their words. Her face flushed hot instantly, and she said: "I'm not talking to you anymore. Goodbye."

He said: "See you in five days." He paused, then added: "Counting down now, another 120 hours. It's really long."

Yes, 120 hours. It was really long. But, in 120 hours, she would be able to see him again, wouldn't she? Her lips curved. Just 120 more hours.

120 hours—easy to say, but so hard to endure. Watching the sun helplessly, it took a long time for the shadows to move even a little bit. From dawn to dusk, it became the longest process. Fortunately, he called every day, but when they talked, time passed so quickly; it felt like half an hour had passed before they had said a few words.

It was the last day. He called her early in the morning: "I'm leaving at noon, and I can eat dinner with you in the evening." She said: "Jiayi is sick, I swapped shifts with her, I'm on duty this afternoon." He said: "It doesn't matter. I'll wait for you."

Jiayi had a bad cold and was running a high fever. Because she couldn't eat, she said: "If only there were pineapples to eat." She smiled and said: "No need to beat around the bush, I'll go buy them for you." Jiayi stuck out her tongue and said: "Then thank you very much." She said: "To have the strength to be greedy even with a fever like this, you truly have the spirit of a foodie." Jiayi said: "It's precisely because I'm a patient that I can make demands without restraint."

She dissolved some salt water to let it cool, saying: "Leave it here first. When I come back after buying the pineapples, I'll soak them before eating."

It was boiling water, slowly rising in steam in the rice bowl. Jiayi was feverish, sleeping in a daze. When she woke up, the fever had subsided slightly, and seeing that the water had cooled down, but Qinwei had not yet returned, she felt strange. She washed her face and walked out, seeing from afar Fang Yawen from the room next door running back, panting: "Jiayi, quick, quick, Qinwei from your dormitory had an accident in town and was knocked down by a car."

She froze on the spot. The sun was stark white, piercingly bright like needles.

Murong Qingyu arrived at the hospital, where a group of girls were shedding tears in the corridor. Seeing him, Jiayi only took a step back. Her mouth trembled, but she could not speak a word. He looked at her blankly and asked: "Qinwei is fine, she is fine, right?" He asked again: "She is fine, right?"

Jiayi dared not make a sound, only bowing her head. He retreated several steps, his back pressed against the wall. The wall was cold, cold right down to his heart, hardening into numbness. He seemed dull, without even the sensation of pain. He drew in a breath, but it only twitched a spasm in his heart. He refused to believe it; he refused to believe it; he would never believe it.

He requested annual leave from the base, which was naturally granted. He lived at home. Seeing his state, Madame Murong was naturally heartbroken, only advising: "Qingyu, you are still young, there are many good girls. With such an incident, Mother is also sad for you. But things have already happened, so don't be too heartbroken."

He acted as if he hadn't heard, only saying softly: "Mother, it was you."

Madame Murong asked in bewilderment: "It was me?"

He raised his eyes, the gaze cold as ice and snow: "Mother, I know it was you." Madame Murong said: "What nonsense are you talking about? What's wrong with me?"

He said: "I should have thought of it earlier; it wouldn't have been that easy, you wouldn't have agreed to me so easily—unless you already had a better way to separate us."

Madame Murong said: "You must be crazy, how can you say that? Could it be that I caused Miss Ye’s death? That was a traffic accident."

Only a dead silence remained in his eyes: "Traffic accident—as long as you, Mother, gave the slightest signal, any traffic accident could happen."

Madame Murong said: "You child, how can you talk to your mother like this? How can you suspect your mother for no reason?" His voice was desolate: "Mom, do you think this is loving me?"

He called out "Mom" with a very mournful tone. Madame Murong said: "Don't let your imagination run wild. I'm also very sad that Miss Ye had an accident. What kind of person do you think your mother is? I hope you are happy."

Happy? His happiness had been buried alive, buried forever.

He returned to the base only after his long break had ended. Madame Murong was uneasy and personally called the base: "Look after my second son for me." The other party naturally agreed repeatedly, saying: "Madame, please rest assured. If his psychological test is unstable, we will not let him continue flying. The test results this time are already out and are quite good."

Madame Murong said: "That’s good. Let him fly, so he won't go having wild thoughts again."

He Xuxuan was a person who loved fishing, and his mansion was built on the shore of Bishui Lake. This day, he held a fishing rod on the lakeshore. Bishui Lake was surrounded by mountains on all sides, the emerald-green lake water reflecting the overlapping peaks, dim as a mirror, with no ripples on the surface. He was looking at the float without blinking when he heard rapid footsteps behind him. Turning his head, he saw his secretary running down the stone steps, panting, so he spoke first: "Speak slowly, don't scare away my fish." The secretary tried his best to calm his tone: "Commander An called to ask you to answer, saying a plane was lost." To be lost meant to have crashed; this was a major event, but receiving a report through such a channel made him immediately think of the implications. His heart sank, he threw the fishing rod in his hand, and asked: "Are you saying Commander An called personally? Which base did he say?" The secretary said: "Yuhai.”

Although he had already guessed seventy or eighty percent, he still held one last hope. Hearing it was Yuhai base, even that last shred of hope was lost. He climbed the stone steps quickly. After finishing the call, he sat there for a long time without moving. The secretary was a bit worried and called: "Director He." He raised his head, his voice hoarse: "Ready the car. I'm going to Shuangqiao."

On the afternoon at Shuangqiao Mansion, deep shade was like water, and the courtyard was deep. He walked to the small living room on the east side and looked at the grandfather clock. The aide-de-camp had already come out to meet him, smiling as he asked: "Why did you come here yourself?"

He asked: "The Gentleman is taking a nap, isn't he?"

The aide-de-camp replied: "Yes, you know, he always sleeps for a while at this time." He asked again: "Is there something urgent? Shall I wake the Gentleman?" Being of high position and power, arriving without being summoned must mean a major emergency had occurred. So the aide-de-camp prepared to wake Murong Feng. Unexpectedly, after considering it for a moment, He Xuxuan said: "No, let him sleep. I'll sit here and wait for a while."

The aide-de-camp answered "Yes" and poured him tea. All around was silent; the ticking of the grandfather clock's second hand was clearly audible. Because it was an old house, the hall was deep and large. Even though it was afternoon, the light was dim and obscure. On the high side table beside him was a bottle of Western-style floral arrangements, which must have been arranged by Madame Murong herself, the fragrance rich and lingering faintly at one's side. He Xuxuan sat there, watching the cutout shadows of the window grilles cast upon the floor gradually shift slowly toward the depths of the carpet.