Midnight drew near. The moon hung suspended between forests of skyscrapers, a mere speck of light amidst the sprawling neon glow.
Tongcheng had developed rapidly in recent years. More and more emerging tech startups had put down roots here, creating a landscape unrecognizable from the one ten years prior. Changming Health Tech was one among these thousands of companies. Specializing in the research and development of high-end interventional medical devices, it had grown robustly in just two short years, its vigorous momentum causing quite a stir within the industry.
The CEO of Changming, the man who had created this industrial miracle—a man in the prime of his youth and at the height of his success—was currently sitting in his massive office. The room was pitch black, save for the faint, weak glow of a cigarette between his fingers.
Chang Ying didn't actually like smoking. Sometimes he would light a cigarette, take a single puff, and then simply let it burn.
When he was young, watching Hong Kong gangster films had made him feel that smoking was an act that enhanced a man’s charisma. Now, he didn't smoke to be cool, nor to cultivate a particular atmosphere. He didn't really know why he did it, except that someone had once told him that smoking while waiting for someone made the time feel less interminable.
But it had indeed been long enough.
He thought that over the past four and a half years, his temper had been completely worn away. Now, it seemed he was wrong. His fingers, gripping the cigarette, were trembling. He couldn't control it.
Just moments ago.
His secretary had knocked and entered. "President Chang, a call from the Old Master."
"I'll go back this weekend." Chang Ying didn't look up, having no desire to take the call.
"No, the Old Master said it’s regarding the Tan family girl..."
Before the secretary could finish, Chang Ying snatched the receiver off the desk. He spoke a few words with Old Master Chang, then hung up and waved the secretary away. He had been sitting there in the silence ever since.
On the phone, Old Master Chang had said: "The Tan girl has been discharged from the military. She’s taking the long-distance bus back to Tongcheng tomorrow. It stops at Xinzhuang at seven in the morning. Make some arrangements. *Sigh*... Old Tan has been gone for a few years now, and because of that business, her relationship with her father was always poor. I expect no one will be there to meet her when she gets off the bus. A young girl carrying all those heavy bags... I watched her grow up; it doesn't sit right with me..."
Chang Ying had appeared somewhat impatient. He used his thumb and index finger to snap the cap of his fountain pen open and shut. In the span of those few sentences, the pen had clicked repeatedly. "Don't worry about it. I'll send someone to pick her up tomorrow morning."
As the cigarette reached its end, Chang Ying stood up, crushed the butt in the ashtray, grabbed his car keys, and walked out. This was the first time since the founding of Changming that Chang Ying had left before two in the morning. The secretary, waiting outside, handed him his overcoat. "President Chang, shall I arrange for a driver to go to Xinzhuang tomorrow morning?"
Chang Ying glanced at the secretary, his voice devoid of emotion. "I'll go myself."
The secretary was puzzled. President Chang had just said on the phone he would send someone; why was he going himself now? But he didn't ask questions, merely bowing his head. "President Chang, what about the meeting with Henning tomorrow morning?"
Chang Ying threw on his coat, his pace never slowing. "Push it back." He paused, then added, "Clear my entire schedule for tomorrow."
***
His home was on a mountainside in the suburbs of Tongcheng, a newly built villa district about forty minutes from the city center.
The late-night radio station was currently introducing the "Wood Guitar Quartet," a Taiwanese folk group from the seventies and eighties. The host teased the audience, mentioning that the group included a singer and songwriter everyone knew well, who was just a green youth when he joined. She paused for effect.
Hearing this, Chang Ying let out a soft chuckle. A late-night station at one in the morning, yet it still had quite a bit of interaction. It was as if there were actually listeners out there.
After a few seconds of silence, the host said, "It was Master Jonathan Lee."
The radio continued: "So, the next song we’re going to play for everyone is—"
Chang Ying silently mouthed the words, predicting: "*The End of the Movie*."
Streetlights and roadside trees receded rapidly outside the car window. There were almost no other cars on the road.
*The End of the Movie* was arguably the quartet's most famous song. Usually, whenever this band was mentioned, that was the song played. To the point that ten years later, people only knew that one song; if you mentioned others, like *Dream Field* or *July on Mount Liang*, they would realize with a start: *Oh, they sang that one too?* Yes, they had sung many. He and Tan Junzi had listened to that entire cassette tape for a whole summer.
Then the radio host said: "This song is: *Seasonal Rain*." The acoustic guitar intro began to play.
The slight curve of Chang Ying’s lips flattened. He silently listened to the first few lines, but before the chorus hit, he switched the radio off.
"*Seasonal rain, don't laugh at me for knowing nothing~ I know that love is like a dream~*" But the melody and lyrics of the chorus still echoed in his mind.
Along with the conversation he and Tan Junzi had repeated countless times that summer.
Tan Junzi would crouch by the clunky tape recorder. It was an old model, and the rewind button was broken—it wouldn't stay down. Tan Junzi would stick a pencil into the hole of the cassette tape and manually wind it back. While laboriously turning the pencil, she would say with absolute certainty, "Listen to it one more time. This is the best song."
Back then, Chang Ying would say, "Can we listen to the next one? we've been listening to this one all afternoon." Despite his words, seeing her get frustrated with the winding, he would take the tape and the pencil to help her wind it back.
Chang Ying had already merged onto the highway, but his fingers tapped on the steering wheel before he took the very next exit. With a turn of the wheel, he drove toward the old district of Tongcheng.
The old district was located in the south of the city. That area used to be the heart of Tongcheng, but in recent years, urban planning had shifted the city center to the north.
Chang Ying’s childhood home was here—a standard commodity apartment from the year 2000, with two bedrooms, a living room, and a small study. He had lived there from elementary school until high school graduation. It hadn't been lived in for a long time now, but it had never been sold.
He was stopped by a security guard at the entrance of the complex. It was a new property management company with new guards who didn't recognize Chang Ying. He wasn't angry; he felt that at least the monthly management fee of a hundred-odd yuan wasn't being wasted.
Houses built in 2000 weren't made with shoddy materials. Back then, they didn't chase height or density; the rows of five-to-six-story slab buildings were short and stout, appearing exceptionally solid. It was just that too many years had passed; some of the floor tiles in the complex were cracked, and these old neighborhoods didn't have elevators.
As he walked to the base of the building, he instinctively looked for the light on the fourth floor, but then remembered that the family on the fourth floor hadn't lived there for years. Tan Zhengqi had passed away, and Tan Junzi had joined the army. Indeed, it had been over four years.
Chang Ying walked up the stairs. The sound-activated lights were broken; he coughed several times, but the lights remained dark. He had just thought the management fee wasn't wasted—he shouldn't have praised them.
Fortunately, his home was on the second floor. He navigated the stairs in the dark. Reaching the door of unit 202, Chang Ying pulled out his keys. Using the faint light from the hallway window, he inserted the key, turned it, and entered. He always kept this key on him; even though he hadn't lived here for many years, it remained on his keychain.
The head of the key was wrapped in a layer of clear tape that had turned yellow and lost its stickiness at the edges. Every time, Chang Ying would press down on it for a long time, trying to stick the peeling tape back into place.
Chang Ying could never bring himself to tear the tape off, because it secured a small slip of paper with elegant handwriting that read: "Chang Ying’s House." This was a key to the Chang home, but it wasn't Chang Ying’s original key; it was the spare made for Tan Junzi.
That night, Chang Ying lay on his childhood single bed. The bed was a bit cramped for a grown man; his feet hung off the end. The sheets had been pulled from the closet, smelling of mothballs—better than the smell of mold.
The moon in the old district seemed brighter than in the city center, or perhaps it was just because the streetlights in the complex were so dim.
Chang Ying wanted to watch the moon in silence. The song in his head was still on a loop, over and over, as if the pause button in his mind was also broken and couldn't be pressed.
But the surrounding atmosphere wouldn't allow him to be nostalgic. The child upstairs was practicing the piano late at night, very diligent but seemingly devoid of talent; through the wall, he heard several mistakes in a very simple piece.
Next door, there were strange grunting sounds, like a pig being slaughtered. Chang Ying listened for a moment before realizing it was a couple "exchanging affections."
On a night like this, Chang Ying felt an incredible sense of peace. For the past four years, he had worked hard to build a dam in his heart to hold back all memories of Tan Junzi. Now, a single phone call had caused a crack in that steel dam.
Chang Ying stopped struggling. He simply let the floodwaters pour through the crack, thinking of Tan Junzi without restraint. His girl was coming back. At least in his eyes, Tan Junzi wasn't "the Tan family girl"—she could only be *his* girl.
But this girl was like wind and fire; the wind couldn't be caught, and the fire couldn't be extinguished. She had swept through his youth with great fanfare, then quietly vanished to the ends of the earth for over four years.
Growing up with Tan Junzi, aside from the instinctive crying of an infant, Chang Ying had only seen her cry three and a half times in her entire life.
In Chang Ying’s eyes, Tan Junzi had always been a formidable, iron-willed woman. Any "hardship" in front of her would be kicked aside; she was the type to believe that even if her head were cut off, it would just leave a scar the size of a bowl.
Whenever anyone thought of Tan Junzi, they would mention her donkey-like bray of a laugh. If the class burst into laughter during school, it would happen in three waves: the first was the general laughter, the second was Tan Junzi’s piercing donkey-laugh, and the third was the whole class laughing at Tan Junzi’s laugh.
No one had ever seen Tan Junzi cry. So, Chang Ying felt lucky. Those who heard her laugh would like this candid girl, but only Chang Ying, who had seen her cry, could truly understand this complex woman.
During these four and a half years of silence, every time Chang Ying felt he couldn't go on, he would think of those three and a half times she cried—half of which were because of him—and that allowed him to endure until now.
***
Chang Ying set an alarm for six, but he woke up a while before it went off. The small bed was uncomfortable, and he hadn't slept soundly, drifting in and out of dreams. When he woke, he had a momentary lapse of clarity, thinking he was still on summer break in high school.
He arrived at Xinzhuang Station. It was a long-distance bus terminal where parking was difficult, so he parked across the street. It was still early for seven o'clock, but he didn't turn off the engine. He reached for the half-pack of cigarettes under the center console, thought about it, and pulled his hand back. Instinctively sniffing the air in the car, he rolled down the windows to let out the faint, lingering scent of smoke.
Just as the roadside breakfast stalls were setting up, the bus arrived.
Not many people got off. Chang Ying watched the first few—all tanned male veterans in uniform, carrying rucksacks like small mountains.
Steam rose from the bun steamers at the breakfast stalls. A slender figure appeared amidst the billowing vapor.
The soldier in front of her helped her with her luggage, and they exchanged a few words and waves before parting.
Chang Ying’s throat tightened. Just as he pushed open the car door, a police car pulled up in front of Tan Junzi. She leaned down toward the passenger window to greet the driver, then opened the door and got in. As the police car drove off, Chang Ying saw the person in the driver's seat clearly.
Then, Chang Ying drove and followed them.
***
Chen Huan glanced at the rearview mirror. That black Volvo had been following the police car the whole time. He tilted his head toward Tan Junzi in the passenger seat but didn't tell her.
The little girl from back then was now his subordinate. A week ago, he had received a call from the military. On the phone, Tan Junzi had first asked him to guess who she was.
Chen Huan thought for a moment and said, "The little girl from Tongcheng No. 1 Middle School who kicked a 'Flower Coat' in the ass."
Tan Junzi had laughed on the other end, then said she would be reporting to the squad in a week. Chen Huan nodded and said he would pick her up.
Tongcheng Criminal Investigation Bureau. Vice Captain Chen Huan stepped out of the driver's seat, and Tan Junzi followed. She carried her rucksack, with a canteen and an enamel basin clattering against it.
Eleven years ago, Chen Huan was just a local beat cop in Tongcheng. He had met Tan Junzi and her friends because of a case involving the molestation of a middle schooler. The victim was Tan Junzi’s best friend; Tan Junzi had kicked the thug and was brought to the station to give a statement.
Later, Chen Huan had cracked a local serial killer case. The case spanned a very long time; one victim had long been treated as a missing person, only for it to be discovered she had been murdered over a decade ago.
When the true culprit was caught and the case came to light, it shocked all of Tongcheng, occupying the front pages for a week. Chen Huan was promoted to the Criminal Investigation Bureau because of it, and after years of outstanding performance, he had worked his way up to Vice Captain.
On the way over, Chen Huan was still marveling at the fact that the impulsive little girl was actually reporting to the bureau. Back then, he had taken her statement and given her a lecture, telling her not to go around kicking people.
Tan Junzi was assigned a desk. The bureau was mostly empty at the moment as everyone was out on duty, so she hadn't met her future colleagues yet. She had come straight here without even going home or dropping off her luggage. Now, she had nothing much to organize.
Chen Huan came to her desk and tapped on the partition.
Tan Junzi pulled a picture frame from her luggage. The five-inch frame held only a single one-inch sticker photo. In the photo was Tan Junzi in her school uniform, along with another young girl.
Chen Huan watched her place the frame on the desk. The things he had intended to say remained unspoken. "You've just returned. Get a feel for the bureau's affairs first; I'll find a veteran to show you the ropes. Regarding that matter... I won't stop you from investigating. But to be honest, so much time has passed. When the squad was involved in the multi-province human trafficking crackdown, we caught several ringleaders, and they all said they had no recollection. I'm telling you this so you're prepared. For now, other matters in the squad take priority. Since you're working under me, you must focus on completing the squad's tasks. Don't misplace your energy."
Tan Junzi nodded, looking at Chen Huan. "It’s impossible for me to give up. Dead or alive... I have to find out the truth. Otherwise, I can't face my masters. But I know what's urgent. Don't worry... Vice Captain."
Chen Huan rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not quite used to you calling me that." The little girl he had lectured back then had a face full of defiance, her eyes burning with a look he remembered vividly.
Then Chen Huan remembered the Volvo and asked tentatively, "Are you heading back on your own in a bit?"
Tan Junzi looked puzzled. "Is there something you want to ask?"
Chen Huan shook his head. "Nothing, just asking. I'll leave you to it then. There's a lot to do in the squad. Go home and rest; report back in three days."
After finishing the handover and the paperwork, Tan Junzi was momentarily unsure of what to do next. Her grandfather was gone; there was no one waiting for her at home.
She stood at the entrance of the bureau with her rucksack, dazed. She didn't really want to go home, but the weight on her shoulders was heavy, making it inconvenient to go anywhere else.
That was when she saw a man step out of a car across the alley.
It was Chang Ying. It was really Chang Ying.
Tan Junzi hadn't told anyone about her return except Vice Captain Chen. At least at this moment, she hadn't expected Chang Ying to be waiting for her here.
But then she understood. Chang Ying’s grandfather was an old high-ranking officer in the military; her movements would be perfectly clear to them. It was just a matter of a single phone call.
She actually wasn't prepared to see Chang Ying today. A mistake had already passed its "best before" date for an apology, to the point that the longer it was delayed, the harder it was to face.
Back then, she had left without saying goodbye, and then stayed away for over four years without a single call or letter. Moreover, when she left, it was the morning after they had... done that.
That morning, she had crawled out of Chang Ying’s arms, kissed the man’s eyelashes, and said: *Be good, I’m going to buy breakfast, you sleep a bit longer.* She had even squeezed the toothpaste onto his brush.
Then she had headed straight for the train station. Like a total scumbag, she had slept with him and then vanished.
Later, when she was in the military, every time she dreamed of Chang Ying, he was angry. In her dreams, Chang Ying didn't speak; he had no expression, his eyes dark and bottomless. The more silent he was, the more his suppressed fury showed—just like the man standing across the alley right now.
Tan Junzi wore the green rucksack issued by the army, bound with several rounds of packing rope, with her basin and canteen hanging off it.
Soldiers were required to return their rank insignia upon discharge, and previously they were allowed to keep one set of uniforms. In recent years, they weren't even allowed to keep the uniforms. She had haggled with her squad leader for a long time before being allowed to take this military enamel basin back as a souvenir.
The two of them stared at each other across the narrow alley for a long time.
Until a pedestrian passed by and bumped into the rucksack. The enamel basin tied to the back fell with a loud "*Clang!*" right into the middle of the alley.
Tan Junzi tilted her head and gave Chang Ying a somewhat guilty smile. "Chang Ying."
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 彤城 | Tongcheng | The fictional city where the story takes place. |
| 昌明健科 | Changming Health Tech | The company founded by Chang Ying. |
| 昌缨 | Chang Ying | The male protagonist. |
| 谈君子 | Tan Junzi | The female protagonist. |
| 谈正气 | Tan Zhengqi | Tan Junzi's father. |
| 新庄 | Xinzhuang | A location/bus station in Tongcheng. |
| 木吉他合唱团 | Wood Guitar Quartet | A real Taiwanese folk group (active in the late 70s/early 80s). |
| 李宗盛 | Jonathan Lee | A famous Taiwanese musician/producer. |
| 《散场电影》 | The End of the Movie | A song by the Wood Guitar Quartet. |
| 《季节雨》 | Seasonal Rain | A song by the Wood Guitar Quartet. |
| 陈焕 | Chen Huan | A police officer/Vice Captain of the Criminal Investigation Bureau. |
| 刑侦大队 | Criminal Investigation Bureau | The police department where Chen Huan works and Tan Junzi joins. |
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