Before dawn on Wednesday, they returned to New York and Wu Wei’s apartment.
In the darkness, she pushed open the door that had once been familiar but now felt slightly foreign. She whispered to Lin Yiyang, "Everyone’s still asleep."
Taking his hand, she led him through the living room. They felt their way into the room where Yin Guo had previously stayed. As she pushed the door open, she nearly tripped over the suitcases stored there. Hearing the commotion, Lin Yiyang caught her around the waist and picked her up. He kicked the suitcase aside with his foot, sending it sliding into the corner with a muffled *thud*.
They looked at each other.
"That was a bit loud," she whispered.
Lin Yiyang set her back down on the floor. The apartment’s soundproofing wasn't bad, so he wasn't particularly worried.
They went their separate ways to pack their things and freshen up. Around nine o'clock, the other two in the apartment woke up.
With the departure looming, Yin Guo and Lin Yiyang drifted about idly, seemingly with nothing left to do.
It turned out that this was what it was like before someone important left. It was ordinary—very ordinary. There were no extra words to say. Unlike the era before WeChat, there was no need for parting advice; they could contact each other at any time, except for the dozen or so hours spent on the plane.
There were no extra tasks to perform, either. They didn't want to do anything; they just wanted to exist in the same space.
But her heart felt restless. As time slipped away, her heart felt like an hourglass, slowly emptying out.
Having nothing to do, Lin Yiyang took a rag and began wiping down the counters and tidying the kitchen.
"Do you have any dirty clothes here?" she asked by the breakfast bar. "If not... should we go to the laundry room?"
"What for?"
"To do laundry," she said. "And I want to see it one last time before I go."
A laundry room on the first floor of an old apartment building wasn't special to anyone else—they were everywhere in this city. But that was the place where Lin Yiyang had first said he wanted to pursue her. She still remembered the long blue plastic table where they had sat at opposite ends, occupying a corner and communicating through their phones. It felt as though it had only happened last night.
Lin Yiyang patted her head. "We'll go again when you come back."
He didn't want to make it feel like a final goodbye.
Wu Wei eventually returned from a long walk outside to find the two of them still in the living room. They hadn't gone anywhere, nor had they gone into the bedroom to be intimate. He was utterly baffled and quietly asked Lin Yiyang, "What's up? Did you guys have a fight before she leaves?"
Lin Yiyang didn't bother answering. He checked his watch, went into the room to grab the suitcases, and said, "Let's go."
Wu Wei watched the two of them leave the apartment. He pondered it for a moment, guessing that this feeling was probably like the day he left home to study abroad. He had wanted to say more to his parents, but there was nothing to say. Everything looked the same as any other day on the surface; he had just sat in the chair by the dining table, watching every minute pass, waiting for the calculated time to head out. It was only when he actually picked up his suitcases, stepped out the door, and got into the car that the heartache finally hit him. The heartache of leaving home.
He didn't have a girlfriend, so this was the only way he could understand the stillness between Lin Yiyang and Yin Guo.
As for Yin Guo, she was already feeling sad by the time they passed the laundry room downstairs.
"Let me take a photo," she said.
Lin Yiyang paused.
Yin Guo had already pulled out her phone. She ducked into the laundry room, snapped several pictures, and hurried back out. "Okay, let's go."
She knew the car was waiting outside, so she had been in a rush. The photos were out of focus. When she scrolled through them in the car, two were blurry, leaving only two that were usable.
Seeing the way she stared at her phone, Lin Yiyang said, "Wait until I get back. I'll take some for you and send them over."
She gave a soft "mm-hmm" and rubbed her eyes, pretending nothing was wrong when, in reality, she was on the verge of tears.
On the way, there was nothing left to say.
At the airport, Lin Yiyang noticed a crack in her suitcase. Fearing it might fall apart during transit, he found an airport staff member to wrap the suitcase in a thick layer of plastic film.
When it came time to pay, Yin Guo tried to beat him to it, but failed.
They checked the luggage.
"Let's wait a bit to see if there are any issues," he said. He was referring to the suitcase—in case there was a problem at security, it would be easier to unpack if they were still nearby.
In truth, he had a selfish motive: to wait outside a little longer, to stand with her for a few more minutes.
"If there's a problem, the money we just spent on the wrapping will be wasted."
"It shouldn't be. I checked your bag before we left the house," he said.
That place wasn't anyone's "home"—not hers, and not his. It was just a habitual way of speaking, a place where they had temporarily lived. Yet Yin Guo truly felt the sorrow of "leaving home," even though she was actually going back to her real home.
"It's about time. Go on," he said suddenly.
Yin Guo shook her head. "One more minute."
She looked up at him. Lin Yiyang lowered his eyes and looked back at her. After a dozen seconds, he took the initiative to pull her into a hug. He wanted to say that, barring any accidents, he would be able to return around this time next year. But the words were stuck in his throat. He couldn't say it; he could only say it once he had actually achieved it. Otherwise, it would just be an empty promise.
Everything was just beginning; the future was still unpredictable.
"Do you regret it?" He rubbed his chin against the hair on top of her head. "Picking someone who requires a long-distance relationship right from the start?"
"Yes," she murmured, burying her face in his chest. "I regret it. You should have waited until you moved back to China to pursue me."
He laughed.
*Without your appearance, who knows if I would have ever gone back.*
"So we'll just keep chatting? Until I return to China?" he followed her lead.
"Mm-hmm."
"Aren't you afraid I'm a romance scammer? Chatting for a year without ever meeting?"
For some reason, Yin Guo's eyes grew wet, and tears began to fall. Lin Yiyang first used his palm to wipe them away, then used the back of his hand to brush her cheeks. "Don't cry," he urged her.
When someone is in the middle of a good cry, the more you comfort them, the more heartbroken they feel.
Seeing that his persuasion wasn't working, he pulled a pack of wet wipes from his pocket and stuffed them into her hand. "Use these on the way. If you run out, they have them on the plane too."
...
Yin Guo still had tears in her eyes, but she was forced into a laugh by his antics.
Lin Yiyang waited until her tears had stopped before seeing her to the security gate. He watched until her figure disappeared from sight. Then, he waited outside, calculating the time it would take for her to clear customs before sending her a WeChat message.
Lin: Safe flight.
Red Fish: Delete the alias. Delete my nickname.
Lin Yiyang smiled and deleted the alias he had set for her.
He discovered she had changed her WeChat name—Fruit in the Woods.
Fruit in the Woods: Is a four-character name too long?
He stared at the newly changed name for a long while.
Lin: No.
Fruit in the Woods: True. It just shows up at the top of the chat box anyway.
Lin: Right.
Fruit in the Woods: I'm really leaving now.
Lin: Okay.
Fruit in the Woods: Send me that... you know, the coffee.
***
Yin Guo had just passed through security. She hadn't had time to retie her shoelaces, which lay loose on either side of her sneakers. She slung her backpack over one shoulder and stared at WeChat, waiting. A long time passed, and he still hadn't sent it.
Was the signal bad? She saw that she had full bars; he should have a strong signal outside as well.
People kept streaming out of the security checkpoint beside her. Some were putting their hats back on; others were zipping up their bags and putting them back on their shoulders. She bent over, clutching her phone, and tied one shoelace. Suddenly, there was a notification sound.
Lin: [Coffee]
The emoji felt like a door being suddenly pushed open.
She remembered her speechlessness when she first saw this emoji, thinking he was annoyed and just trying to brush her off...
She gripped her phone and stared at it for a long time. She looked down and tried to tie the other shoelace, but the butterfly knot wouldn't take shape even after several attempts. Finally, she crouched in a corner, hugging her knees, burying the lower half of her face in her arms as she stared at the floor.
The ground in front of her blurred in and out of focus, covered by a layer of water.
***
Lin Yiyang took the bus and then transferred to the subway to return to the apartment.
On the subway, someone was busking with drums in the middle of the carriage. Usually, he would be in the mood to appreciate it for a while, but today he was inexplicably restless. Every beat of the drum felt like it was striking his heart, making his nerves twitch.
He was counting the time. With truly nothing to do, he took his watch off his left wrist, put it on his right, took it off again, and stuffed it directly into his jeans pocket.
When the train pulled into the next station and there was a brief window of signal, he received a delayed WeChat message.
Fruit in the Woods: [Happy]
He could tell at a glance that she had sent it right before her plane took off and she switched to flight mode.
She was still a young girl, possessing a very detailed sense of romanticism—for instance, using this as a goodbye.
Lin Yiyang thought of the two of them in the car in Hawaii, of the girl’s uniquely soft breath... he thought of her feet covered in fine sand as she walked around him, and of her sitting in the empty subway carriage, saying to him: *My name is Yin Guo.*
His mind was in turmoil, so he simply turned off his phone.
Entering the apartment building, he passed the laundry room and remembered he was supposed to take a photo for Yin Guo. However, before he could go in, someone came out. It was Jiang Yang, who had been waiting there. The apartment was empty, so he had sat there for over an hour just to wait for Lin Yiyang.
"Why was your phone off?" Jiang Yang asked.
"Dead battery."
"I have to leave soon; I was afraid I'd miss you." Like Meng Xiaodong and the others, Jiang Yang was rushing off to the Ireland Open. His flight was also today. "I'm glad I caught you."
Lin Yiyang looked outside. "Do you need me to call a car for you? To the airport?"
"No need, it's already booked."
Lin Yiyang saw that Jiang Yang was hesitating to get to the point. He waited, guessing that Jiang Yang was gauging his mood, deliberating whether or not to speak.
"I just dropped off Yin Guo, so I'm not in a great mood," Lin Yiyang said bluntly. "It's not directed at you. If you have something to say, just say it."
Jiang Yang pulled a sticky note from his pocket. A phone number was written on it. Looking at the area code, it was domestic—from their hometown. "This is Teacher's phone number. His home line."
A foreign number that could connect him to a once-familiar person.
"I was about to leave when I realized I didn't have your WeChat," Jiang Yang stuffed the note into his hand. "I borrowed a piece of paper from someone to copy this for you. Teacher hasn't contacted anyone all these years... his health isn't great either. Give him a call when you have time."
Lin Yiyang felt the texture of the paper in his palm. He didn't say a word.
"Keep in touch," Jiang Yang said, resting a hand on his shoulder and patting it. After a pause, he repeated, "Keep in touch."
Jiang Yang dragged his suitcase and cue case down the narrow hallway, pushed open the apartment door, and gradually disappeared down the stairs.
In the laundry room, a young boy was folding clothes. He folded each one into a neat square, carefully inspecting them for lint balls and picking them off one by one. They looked like women's clothes, likely belonging to his mother. Lin Yiyang leaned against the doorframe and watched. This most ordinary scene in a laundry room made it feel as though he had suddenly returned to his original world.
As if no one had ever appeared.
Neither his brothers nor her.
Outside the window was the streetscape—a jumble of houses, each completely unrelated and dissimilar to the next. Like everyone in this city of immigrants, they could have come from different hometowns belonging to each of them. Including himself.
A sense of wandering is an emotion akin to opium; it is addictive, yet easy to come by.
A sense of belonging, however, is a true luxury among emotions. There are too few people who can provide it. He remembered a casual acquaintance once saying that they felt like an orphan the year their parents passed away—that they no longer had a home. Only those who have experienced it can truly understand that feeling.
A girl had come from across the ocean, from his homeland, at the end of January. She left today, and when she did, she called herself "Fruit in the Woods." This was the girl he had pursued relentlessly, the one he insisted on having, the one he chose to hold onto even though he knew the road ahead was uncertain.
Lin Yiyang folded the sticky note in half, and then in half again.
He pulled out his wallet and tucked the slip of paper into the top compartment.
The long winter was over. It was time to wake up.
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 林里的果 | Fruit in the Woods | Yin Guo's new WeChat nickname, combining Lin (Forest/Woods) and Guo (Fruit). |
| 老师 | Teacher | Refers to Lin Yiyang and Jiang Yang's former snooker mentor/coach. |
| [愉快] | [Happy] | A standard WeChat emoji (the smiling face). |
| [咖啡] | [Coffee] | A recurring emoji motif between the leads. |
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Amidst a Snowstorm of Love | Chapter 36 | Fruit in the Woods | Novela.app | Novela.app
