In the living room, a deathly silence reigned. Zhao Wenying’s gaze fell on Xie Lan’s hand hanging by his side; she watched it for a while before turning her eyes toward Dou Sheng.

The exhaustion on her face had been replaced by a different expression—one of shock, trance-like bewilderment, and a touch of scrutiny and wariness.

It was a complex look, one Xie Lan couldn’t fully decipher, but his heart sank to the very bottom.

He knew Zhao Wenying had heard that word “boyfriend” clearly. There was no way he and Dou Sheng could fool her anymore. Beyond that, though he couldn’t entirely guess her reaction, the current atmosphere told him it was at least not the one he had hoped for.

Zhao Wenying’s chest rose and fell as if she were agitated, but several times she started to speak only to fall silent again, her posture softening back into the sofa.

After a long while, she covered her chest with her hand and leaned against the back of the couch. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse. “I did the blood work. The liver and gallbladder ultrasound is scheduled for the afternoon, so I came back to see you two first.”

She paused and added, “I felt dizzy. Xiao Ma brought me home; he took the car for maintenance.”

Dou Sheng immediately stepped forward and picked up the medical records on the coffee table. “Are the lab reports in here?”

“They are.” Zhao Wenying let him take them, but her eyes remained fixed on Xie Lan’s face.

Xie Lan’s mind was blank. He flusteredly avoided her gaze, only remembering after a moment to step forward and look at the records as well.

But Dou Sheng quickly set them down, frowning. “Nutritional anemia? How could you be malnourished? They even suggested you be hospitalized?”

Zhao Wenying seemed dazed, taking a while to answer. “Anemia can be serious or minor. The preliminary diagnosis is due to diet and drinking, but there are more tests this afternoon. My liver function is also showing issues; they suggested I stay for two days to stabilize the indicators.”

“I’ll go with you,” Dou Sheng said immediately. “Let’s eat first. I’ll order takeout.”

Zhao Wenying was still watching Xie Lan. Hearing Dou Sheng’s question, she finally pulled her gaze away and looked at her son. “I already ordered food; it should be here soon. Xie Lan… go back to your room and study. Dou Sheng, come with me.”

Xie Lan spoke stiffly. “Aunt Zhao, Dou Sheng and I—”

“Go back to your room first,” Zhao Wenying interrupted. Her voice was weak, but her tone was firm. She frowned for a split second before her expression loosened. “You have an exam tomorrow. Don’t get distracted. Go do your work.”

Dou Sheng nudged Xie Lan’s arm unobtrusively and whispered, “I’ll stay with my mom. I’ll call you when the food arrives.”

Lost and unsure of what to do, Xie Lan could only turn and head upstairs. Once in his room, he felt restless. He dropped his backpack and returned to the top of the stairs, looking down just in time to see Dou Sheng helping Zhao Wenying into the master bedroom.

The moment they entered, Zhao Wenying brushed Dou Sheng’s hand away. Her suppressed emotions finally broke through. Dou Sheng immediately grabbed her hand again, following her in and closing the door behind them.

The door hit the frame with a dull thud. The draft stirred the cat fur that Wutong had left on the stair railing, making it flutter in the air. For Xie Lan, it felt as though his heart had suddenly been hollowed out.

He stood there alone for a long time before returning to his room with a sense of emptiness. Seeing him come back, Wutong immediately jumped onto the bed and gently rubbed his head against Xie Lan’s palm.

He let the cat nuzzle him for a while, then aimlessly got up to check his luggage again. After waiting for over half an hour, he opened the door and went downstairs once more.

The master bedroom door was tightly shut. Not a single sound drifted out.

He paced in front of the door for a long time, but still heard nothing.

After a moment’s hesitation, he raised his hand and knocked softly.

Tap, tap.

Dou Sheng responded quickly. “Xie Lan?”

His voice sounded no different than usual. Hearing this, Xie Lan reached for the door handle, but Zhao Wenying spoke up: “Go back to your room. I’m not finished talking to Dou Sheng.”

Xie Lan’s hand froze in mid-air.

The mind that had just begun to clear went blank again. He trudged back up the stairs, repeatedly replaying Zhao Wenying’s tone—it was empty, devoid of obvious anger or disappointment, but lacking her usual gentle warmth. If anything, it was a complete absence of emotion.

No emotion was, in itself, an emotion.

Just as he was about to enter his room, a sudden roar from Zhao Wenying echoed from downstairs.

“If you don’t call this selfish, then what is selfish!”

Xie Lan was stunned for a moment. Dou Sheng followed with an explanation of some kind, but the words were muffled, and then silence fell once more.

The doorbell rang suddenly. Feeling like he’d been granted a reprieve, Xie Lan rushed downstairs to open the door.

Zhao Wenying had ordered his favorite Japanese food. Two large paper bags were stacked with over a dozen exquisitely packaged meal boxes.

He brought the takeout back, and the master bedroom door opened. Dou Sheng walked out.

“Let’s eat,” Dou Sheng said calmly.

Xie Lan looked past him. “Where’s Aunt Zhao?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Zhao Wenying stepped out. Her eyes were red, clearly showing she had been crying, which caused Xie Lan’s attempt at a fake smile to vanish instantly. He stood there, feeling utterly out of place, letting Dou Sheng take the bags to the kitchen. His feet felt as though they were nailed to the floor.

Zhao Wenying looked terrible. As she passed him, she gave his arm a light pat.

“Eat first,” she said softly. “After you finish your recommended admission exam and come back, we’ll talk about these things in detail.”

Xie Lan felt like he was sitting on needles. He stood frozen for a while before following them in to sit down and help Dou Sheng open the meal boxes.

But his hands were shaking; he struggled with the lids until Dou Sheng’s hand covered his.

“I’ll do it,” Dou Sheng took over, his expression remaining casual. “It’s fine. Just focus on eating.”

It was only then that Xie Lan noticed a large red mark on Dou Sheng’s arm—it looked like he’d been slapped.

He instinctively looked up at Zhao Wenying. She was looking at her son with genuine fury.

In all the time he had lived here, this was the first time he had seen Zhao Wenying truly lose her temper with Dou Sheng.

The atmosphere at the table was frigid. Zhao Wenying didn’t speak, which made Xie Lan feel even more at a loss. Dou Sheng calmly served food to both of them. It wasn’t until Zhao Wenying finished and put down her chopsticks that he looked up and asked, “Shall we go to the hospital now?”

Zhao Wenying ignored him completely and began walking toward the door.

“Aunt Zhao!”

The words Xie Lan had been holding back finally burst out.

He set down his chopsticks and stood up, his voice trembling for a long while before he managed, “…I’m sorry.”

He was confused; it seemed he had nothing to offer but an apology.

He had so many reasons he could give her—his state of mind when he first returned to the country, the affection and reliance he felt toward Dou Sheng, their plans for university. He could even argue logic—that sexual orientation is innate and should be treated equally…

But none of that mattered. Because this was between him and Dou Sheng, and to Zhao Wenying, if this was a source of pain, no amount of logic could erase the hurt.

Zhao Wenying paused in her tracks. After a long silence, she glanced back at him. “Don’t think about that for now. I haven’t finished questioning Dou Sheng. We’ll talk after I’ve finished.”

As she spoke, she seemed to grow dizzy and grabbed the doorframe for support. She turned back and frowned at Dou Sheng. “Can’t you eat any faster?”

“I’m done.” Dou Sheng stood up immediately. “We won’t wait for Uncle Xiao Ma. I’ll call a car now.”

Zhao Wenying walked out without a word. Dou Sheng waited for her to leave before following. As he passed Xie Lan, he gave his elbow a gentle squeeze.

“It’s okay,” Dou Sheng whispered comfortingly. “My mom is still grilling me; she hasn’t taken a stance yet. I can’t say for sure what her final reaction will be, but at least she hasn’t said she doesn’t support us.”

Xie Lan’s mind was a mess. He said instinctively, “It’s my fault…”

“What are you talking about!” Dou Sheng squeezed his hand tighter. “I’m the one who called you ‘boyfriend.’ I’m the one who let the cat out of the bag. What does it have to do with you?”

He sighed and lowered his voice. “The timing today was terrible, but now that it’s out, it’s fine. I’ll stay with my mom first to make sure her health is okay, then I’ll slowly explain everything. Don’t get distracted, whatever you do. Get that recommended admission first, okay?”

Xie Lan’s eyes were vacant. After a long while, he finally found a thread of focus. “What exactly is wrong with Aunt Zhao’s health?”

“The medical terms would only confuse you if I told you,” Dou Sheng sighed. “It seems she’s deficient in two trace elements and needs intramuscular injections; that’s not a huge deal. The trouble is her liver looks abnormal—definitely alcoholic liver disease. The doctor suggested two days of observation.”

Xie Lan nodded. He instinctively wanted to say he would go too, but glancing at the tightly closed master bedroom door, he hesitated.

Dou Sheng hugged him, rubbing his head firmly and smoothing his back. “It’s fine, really. But we probably won’t be able to see you off at the airport tomorrow morning. Uncle Xiao Ma will take you, okay?”

Xie Lan nodded immediately. “Will you be at the hospital tonight?”

“Most likely,” Dou Sheng sighed. “My mom didn’t want to be hospitalized, but I think… that scene just now was a bit much. She’s incredibly dizzy now, so she should stay for a couple of days.”

Ten thousand words were stuck in Xie Lan’s throat, but he couldn’t say a single one.

He could only watch blankly as Dou Sheng and Zhao Wenying packed their things to leave. At the door, Zhao Wenying stopped and turned back toward the TV cabinet in the living room.

“Mom, what are you looking for?” Dou Sheng followed her. “Don’t squat down, let me help you.”

“Go away.”

Zhao Wenying frowned and brushed him aside. She opened a drawer in the cabinet and pulled out a small needle case and a magnifying glass, placing them on the back of the sofa.

She looked at Xie Lan, her voice weak. “If you get a splinter in your hand, use the magnifying glass against the light to find it. Once you see a little white dot, use the needle to pick it out. The needles are sterilized. Be careful.”

Xie Lan’s throat suddenly tightened. His eyes stung, yet he still couldn’t speak.

Zhao Wenying glanced at him. “Sleep well tonight. Get a good score and come back. Let me deal with my illness first before we talk about your little ‘mess.'”

“I understand, Aunt Zhao,” Xie Lan choked out. He lowered his head, staring at his toes. “I’ll do my best on the exam.”

Dou Sheng looked pained for him; he instinctively wanted to go over and pat Xie Lan’s head, but Zhao Wenying’s sharp glare stopped him in his tracks.

The door opened and closed. Xie Lan was left alone in the house.

He stood there, his fingers and toes tingling as if an electric current were passing through them. After a while, he stiffly walked forward and picked up the magnifying glass and needle case. He hovered for a moment before putting them back in the cabinet and heading upstairs to his room.

Tomorrow was Sunday, and hotels near the school were hard to book; several he checked had no vacancies. His mind was in a whirl, and he didn’t have the heart to search for distant hotels. In the end, he just booked a windowless single room at a budget inn.

He clutched his phone, wanting to message Dou Sheng, but forced himself to resist.

Dou Sheng was with Zhao Wenying; every move he made was under her eyes. Regardless of her attitude, she wasn’t feeling well right now, and Xie Lan knew he shouldn’t impose his presence.

He stood by the window, watching the flow of traffic on the river bridge, lost in thought for a long time.

Since returning to the country and stepping into this home, he had never felt like this before.

Fragmented, isolated, out of place, and a little lonely.

Even now, he could recall the very first thing Zhao Wenying had said to him: “Coming here is coming home. Dumplings for arrivals and noodles for departures. I haven’t done anything else all afternoon but stew this bowl of noodles for you.”

That scene was fresh in his mind. It was a simple, ordinary sentence, but it had taken root in his heart. Alongside it was that unshielded comment: “You really look so much like Langjing.”

After Xiao Langjing passed away, Xie Jingming rarely mentioned her name—perhaps out of guilt, or perhaps just to avoid touching upon Xie Lan’s sorrow. It was understandable, but when Zhao Wenying had casually mentioned that long-unspoken name, it felt as though the heavy stone in Xie Lan’s heart had been shifted. The stone was still there, but a gentle nudge made him realize it wasn’t permanently fixed; if you poked it or moved it, it could actually budge.

“Meow—” Wutong suddenly cried out behind him.

Xie Lan snapped back to reality. He realized his cheeks felt cool, and when he raised his hand, his knuckles came away damp.

He sniffed, turning to stroke Wutong. The cat immediately began to purr and act spoiled.

The worst outcome would be if Aunt Zhao refused to accept it at all. She was a strong-willed woman; she might order them to break up, or even if she couldn’t stop them physically, she might never accept them emotionally.

If it came to that…

Xie Lan stroked Wutong, staring blankly out the window.

After a long while, he looked around the room he had lived in for six months.

If it came to that… he would let it go.

The sudden thought terrified him, but a moment later, he felt with a heavy heart that it could only be so.

He could not hurt Aunt Zhao.

He could not hurt this woman who, despite having no blood relation to him, had poured her heart out for him. She was the one who carefully considered his feelings; she was the one who, even when exhausted from social drinking and work, remembered to get him shaved ice just to put his mind at ease. The one who returned home from a long trip and immediately took every precaution to handle his biological father with care.

She might have already been feeling unwell then, yet she still had a few drinks with Xie Jingming at the dinner table.

People talked about “best friends,” but he didn’t know exactly how close she and his mother had been. He only knew that every bit of kindness Aunt Zhao showed him was sincere.

He should be the same.

It was just…

Xie Lan pulled the sycamore leaf pendant from his pocket. He stroked it over and over, staring blankly at its veins.

It was just that he would be so very sad.

He was no longer here simply to live out his mother’s life again. He stayed in the country primarily because he wanted to be with Dou Sheng. Becoming an uploader was for that, too; he wanted to accompany Dou Sheng to the Top 100 Creators awards, or at least watch him achieve it.

He also wanted to take Dou Sheng to England next year to visit his mother’s grave and tell her that he had moved on, that he was with this person, and that he was happy.

He loved Dou Sheng so much.

His phone vibrated. it was He Xiu.

– Send me your flight number and hotel name.

Xie Lan quickly sent the itinerary, tossed his phone aside, and lay on the bed, staring into space.

Wutong lay by his hand, purring in a half-sleep. Kittens don’t know the weight of sorrow; as long as they are by their owner’s side, they don’t care where “home” is.

Xie Lan curled up on the bed, watching the sky gradually darken. The sunset faded from view, and the skyscrapers across the river lit up one after another. As night fell, the city continued its usual display of noise and brilliance.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep. He was suddenly jolted awake by his phone vibrating.

Inside the house and outside the window, everything was dim. He couldn’t tell if it was late at night or early morning. Wutong was beside him, licking his fur with single-minded focus.

The name “Uncle Xiao Ma” was flashing on the screen—04:01.

Xie Lan’s heart hammered against his ribs. He answered the call, and Xiao Ma’s crisp voice came through: “Lan Lan, are you up? I’ll be downstairs in ten minutes.”

“I’m up, I’m up.” Xie Lan scrambled out of bed and stood in the middle of the floor, clutching his phone and staring blankly.

His heart was still racing, making him feel slightly unwell.

Xiao Ma laughed. “All right then. Go wash your face. I brought breakfast for you to eat in the car. Make sure you don’t leave anything behind, especially your passport.”

“Okay.” Xie Lan steadied his nerves. “See you in a bit, Uncle Xiao Ma.”

“See you,” Xiao Ma said cheerfully.

The call ended.

The sky was just beginning to lighten. Only a few cars crossed the river bridge; the entire city was still wrapped in a hazy silence.

It was a long time before Xie Lan picked up his phone again.

He had slept for over ten hours, from around six or seven last evening until now. He had missed all of Dou Sheng’s messages.

He clicked on the first voice message. The background was noisy, but Dou Sheng’s voice was clear enough.

“I just got my mom settled in. The further lab results came back; the anemia isn’t a huge deal. She’ll get B12 and folate shots for three days. Intramuscular injections are pretty convenient. Her liver damage is a bit more serious, but it’s not untreatable. She’s on medication and an IV drip for observation. She’ll likely be discharged in a day or two.”

Two hours after that, around ten at night, he had sent a video of the hospital room.

It was a semi-private room separated by a curtain. The lighting was dim. The camera panned around, showing the walls, the doorway, and Zhao Wenying lying on the bed scrolling through her phone.

“Can you stop filming?” Zhao Wenying frowned.

“You’re wearing makeup and looking so pretty, why can’t I film?” Dou Sheng muttered, though the video ended there.

After that were text messages sent after midnight.

– Moxi moxi? Asleep?

– Xie Lan kiddo?

– Fine then, I’ll have Uncle Xiao Ma call you early tomorrow. I won’t bother you tonight.

– The liver treatment is done for now. My mom actually ate quite a bit of her boxed lunch tonight. The ward is a bit noisy, but her mood is stable.

– Xie Lan, don’t overthink things. Believe me. Just go and focus on your exam.

Xie Lan finally breathed a sigh of relief seeing that Aunt Zhao was okay. He scrolled to the end of the messages. Dou Sheng hadn’t slept until 3 AM; he was likely in a deep sleep now and wouldn’t wake up.

Xie Lan tried sending an emoji, but as expected, there was no reply.

Uncle Xiao Ma would be arriving soon. He hurried to check his backpack one last time. His gaze swept over the bookshelf and landed on his mother’s journals.

A sudden, weak thought crossed his mind.

If he got the recommended admission, it wouldn’t really matter if he finished his senior year here. He could come back, or… go back to London first, or even stay in Beijing for a year.

That thought had been hovering in his mind since yesterday, but he had resisted it. Now, having just woken up, it surged forward uncontrollably.

But the moment it appeared, he quickly snuffed it out.

Human thoughts are fickle. The idea of giving up had been testing its luck all night; this brief emergence would be its last.

Xie Lan stood before the bookshelf, looking at Xiao Langjing’s journals. After a long while, he turned his head with a touch of stubbornness toward the window.

He wasn’t willing. How could he possibly be willing?

Not unless Dou Sheng stood before him and said the words “let’s break up” himself.

The doorbell rang downstairs. He didn’t have time to think. He quickly pulled a change of clothes out of his backpack to make room for those journals.

“Lan Lan?” Xiao Ma’s voice called from below. “Are we going?”

“Coming!” Xie Lan shouted back.

Backpack on, he strode out of the room, but stopped at the door and turned back.

His violin was still by the desk. He carried the case into Dou Sheng’s room next door, opened the door, and placed the violin case on the head of Dou Sheng’s bed.

Xie Lan tapped the case repeatedly, then leaned down and gave it a kiss. He whispered, “If there’s a storm at home and I’m not back yet, you’re responsible for comforting my boyfriend for me. You can do it.”

Hearing Xiao Ma’s footsteps on the stairs, Xie Lan rushed back to his room, picked up Wutong, and gave the cat two firm kisses. With a mouth full of cat fur, he carried Wutong over and placed him on Dou Sheng’s bed as well.

“You too,” he patted the cat’s head. “Be smart. Comfort your human form well.”

Xiao Ma stood at the door, peering in curiously. “What human form? What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Xie Lan smiled. “Let’s go.”

The flight was at 6:20. He got to the airport, checked in, and passed security. The departure gate was very far; he hurried with his backpack and made it just as boarding began.

It had been a long time since he’d been on a plane—not since his return from London. Although domestic planes were smaller than transoceanic ones, the cabin had the same cold, air-conditioned feel. The recirculated air had a peculiar scent that felt both comforting and somewhat unpleasant.

Xie Lan had a window seat. Since Zhao Wenying’s ticket had been canceled last minute, there was an empty seat between him and a middle-aged man in the aisle seat.

He buckled his seatbelt and looked out the window.

The airport was vast. A red sun was rising slowly and tremulously from the horizon. It was the beginning of the morning; though the sun wasn’t yet strong, the clear light promised a beautiful day.

Dou Sheng still hadn’t replied. The phone was quiet—so quiet it felt lonely.

Refusing to give up, Xie Lan tapped on his chat with Dou Sheng again, then opened Bilibili.

Today, the private messages at the top were all about the recommended admission exam.

– Lan-zai, are you going for the T-U interview today? Good luck!

– Good luck Lan-zai! Xie Lan is number one in the world!

– Douzi is with you, right? DMEM, go for it!

Xie Lan’s mind was in a mess. He rarely read private messages, but now he scrolled through them one by one, reading the repetitive well-wishes and even replying to a few.

He kept reading until his eyes began to lose focus on the screen. Suddenly, an announcement sounded in the cabin.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to take off. Please ensure your electronic devices, such as laptops, are turned off. Please switch your phones to airplane mode or turn them off, and fasten your seatbelts. Thank you.”

The flight attendants began their check from the front. Xie Lan hurriedly sent one last message to Dou Sheng.

“I’m taking off. Take good care of Aunt Zhao.”

He hesitated over that message, then added one more: “Tell her for me… I’m really sorry for letting her down.”

As soon as the second message sent, the flight attendant reached his row. Xie Lan immediately switched to airplane mode, watching the signal bars vanish from the screen.

The flight attendant smiled at him and moved on.

Takeoff was smooth and on time. The plane, like a giant white bird trailing its wings, started, accelerated, and lifted off the wide runway.

The airport and parking lots below, along with the tangled highways he’d just traveled, gradually shrank from view. The plane banked during its ascent, piercing through the cloud layer into the blue sky.

This was the seventh month since Xie Lan had returned to the country. At tens of thousands of feet, the sky was as clear as if it had been washed. Soft clouds spread out in the light, scattered by the plane’s wings, yet seeming to embrace the aircraft and the person behind the window.

It was just as bright and pleasant as the day he had arrived.

Xie Lan stared out the window, his mind drifting.

Returning felt like it was only yesterday, yet so much time had passed in the blink of an eye.

So much time that it was already hard to remember the gloom of London’s weather.