Huo Boyan assumed Zhu Ran was still sleeping and headed straight to the bedroom. The bed was neatly made, Zhu Ran’s suitcase and personal items gone without a trace.
On the nightstand sat a letter. Huo Boyan picked it up, skimmed the opening, then set it down and took two deep breaths. He downed the glass of water in one gulp before daring to read on.
“Huo Boyan:
Please forgive my sudden departure without a word. There are many things I couldn’t say to your face, so I can only tell you this way. I hope you don’t mind.
By the time you read this, you should have resolved everything, right? You’ve finally gotten justice for your parents. I’m so happy for you.
I’m also glad I met you this summer. You taught me so much and gave me the courage to face myself. It might sound cheesy, but these days loving you have been the happiest of my life.
But I’m scared too. I don’t think I can keep this happiness going. I can’t treat you the way you’ve treated me. I know you don’t expect me to repay you the same way, but I can’t convince myself otherwise.
I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think it’s better if we part ways. It’s not about you—you’re great. It’s me. I’m better off alone, so I won’t hold you back.
Goodbye. I wish you a better life.
—Zhu Ran”
The thin sheet of paper took Huo Boyan over ten minutes to read. He pored over it countless times, finally spotting the words “break up” buried in the lines.
Zhu Ran wanted to break up with him?
Impossible. How could Zhu Ran break up with him?
Huo Boyan’s first thought was that it wasn’t Zhu Ran’s handwriting—Huo Zhixiao must have kidnapped him and left this fake breakup letter to distract him.
But Zhu Ran’s phone was unreachable, and with the typhoon these past two days, he’d withdrawn the bodyguards and hadn’t yet arranged replacements.
Huo Boyan had the housekeeper pull the surveillance footage and watched it three times before accepting that Zhu Ran had left on his own, suitcase in hand.
The housekeeper hesitated to speak. He’d never seen his boss like this. After mulling for minutes, he started to say something, but Huo Boyan cut him off: “It’s fine. I know the reason.”
Huo Boyan returned home calmly, convinced Zhu Ran was joking with him.
Yes, Zhu Ran was a bit playful. He’d left this letter to tease him—maybe even hidden a camera to film his reaction.
“Baby, stop playing. I’m scared. I surrender. Don’t scare me with breakup talk. I’ll listen to you from now on.
I’ll listen to everything, okay? Baby, don’t scare me.”
Huo Boyan repeated it over and over, addressing every spot he thought might hide a camera, tirelessly. But Zhu Ran never jumped out laughing.
Huo Boyan kept calling, still no answer. The corner of his eye twitched uncontrollably, like a glitchy android, but he quickly composed himself and tried Wang Ruyun’s number.
It connected.
Huo Boyan held his breath, his heart pounding wildly. After a dozen seconds to steady himself, he asked politely, “Auntie, hello. This is Huo Boyan. Sorry to bother you. I can’t reach Zhu Ran—do you know where he is?”
There was a pause, then a troubled voice: “He’s right here with me. We’re about to take off.”
Huo Boyan paused, then said, “Could I speak to him?”
Seconds later, Wang Ruyun replied, “Sorry, he refuses.”
Huo Boyan wasn’t angry at all. He suddenly laughed. “I just remembered—he’s starting school soon, right? He should go home. Since I can’t reach him, could he let me know he’s safe once he gets there?”
Silence on the line, broken only by the captain’s pre-flight announcement.
Over a minute passed before breathing sounds shifted—someone else had taken the phone.
Huo Boyan’s breath hitched. Never had he felt so lowly: “Zhu Ran, is that you?”
“Huo Boyan, let’s break up.” Zhu Ran said calmly, then hung up.
Beep, beep, beep—
The line went dead. Further calls said out of service.
Huo Boyan’s face darkened as he stood in the room. Veins bulged on the back of his hand, and with a crack, he shattered the glass.
He’d planned meticulously, thinking he’d outmaneuvered everyone and avenged his family. Yet he never imagined Zhu Ran would choose this moment to break up with him.
Blood dripped from his palm. Huo Boyan enunciated each word into the dead phone: “Zhu—Ran—I—do—not—agree!”
·
Meanwhile, Zhu Ran’s plane shuddered through takeoff amid announcements.
The typhoon had passed, the wind signal down to No. 3. The stratosphere cleared suddenly, the sunset blindingly bright. Zhu Ran pulled out sunglasses to shield his eyes. Hands in his pockets, he felt several wads of tear-soaked, crumpled letter drafts.
He considered tossing them but decided against littering.
Once airborne and steady, the flight attendant distributed meals.
“We have meal combos today: Hong Kong dim sum, claypot rice, hot noodle soup… What would you like, miss?”
Wang Ruyun ordered, saw Zhu Ran unresponsive, and planned to save him a meal. But Zhu Ran suddenly opened his eyes and asked the attendant, “Do you have fresh-boiled congee?”
The attendant apologized that they didn’t. Zhu Ran blinked, then slumped back.
Wang Ruyun ordered him Hong Kong dim sum.
“Eat a little,” Wang Ruyun said, lowering the tray table and opening the box.
Not wanting to worry his mom, Zhu Ran took a bite of the egg tart. He didn’t know what was in it—it wasn’t authentic at all. His nose tingled, and tears splashed down.
Zhu Ran barely registered it until Wang Ruyun handed him tissues. He smiled blankly: “Weird… why am I crying?”
He reached to wipe them, but more fell, shattering his composure.
“I… I’m just a bit…”
Tears blurred his vision. The next moment, he collapsed into a slender, warm embrace.
“It’s okay. Cry if you want,” Wang Ruyun held Zhu Ran gently, patting awkwardly. “If you’re sad, it’ll feel better to let it out.”
Mom…
Zhu Ran trembled all over, as if shrinking a dozen years in an instant. He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of Wang Ruyun’s studio from years ago.
…
Two hours later, the plane landed at A City International Airport.
Zhu Ran stepped out of the cabin and discovered that A City’s wind already carried the chill of autumn.
Ground signal lights flashed as airplanes took off and landed in the sky.
Zhu Ran queued up for the shuttle bus and finally realized that summer was over.