What he sought was not some expired familial affection, but a clean and total break. His father didn't understand this, and neither did Zhou Xiaozhi. They assumed he was a wandering cloud, a traveler who remained rooted no matter how far he drifted to the ends of the earth, but his childhood and adolescence had been uprooted long ago.
A mosquito coil burned on the balcony. Xiao Tang had gone to do laundry, and Lin Yuewei was hunched over, sketching storyboards. Seeing him come out, she said, "I was afraid your ice jelly would get warm, so I put it in the fridge."
Lin Yuewei didn't ask any questions. Qi Bailu lowered his head, stirring the jelly with a spoon and eating slowly. It was sweet—cloyingly so. Once he had finished every last drop and Lin Yuewei had reached a stopping point in her work, he briefly explained the situation to her. Lin Yuewei asked if he wanted her to go back with him, but Qi Bailu replied, "I can handle it."
Sitting for too long had made her back ache; Lin Yuewei leaned against the back of her chair and stretched her arms, mulling over what to say. Looking out from the low second-floor balcony, they could see an electric scooter with its headlights on emerging from the street below. The rider looked like a high schooler and was shouting loudly at someone; a middle-aged man cursed back in the Hokkien dialect. They couldn't understand the specifics of the argument and simply waited in silence for the confrontation to pass.
A car honked twice, its beams cutting into the pitch-black night, wobbling as they swept over the evergreen shrubs lining the road. "I won't advise you to reconcile," Lin Yuewei said.
Qi Bailu didn't respond, but he gave her a look. After slapping a few mosquitoes dead on the balcony, they had to get back to work.
A departure from the team meant the workload had to be compressed. Qi Bailu spent two days in a whirlwind of activity. He hadn't contacted Ruan Qiuji again, having long since tossed the man’s mention of coming to Xiamen to the back of his mind. Eventually, he dragged his suitcase alone onto a plane heading back to his hometown. Less than three hours later, the plane touched down.
A small episode occurred on the flight. Although he wore a mask and sunglasses, someone recognized him, though they didn't move to disturb him. After he collected his luggage, a young woman approached him. She said she liked him very much and asked if she could keep his boarding pass as a souvenir. Realizing she was a fan, Qi Bailu sent a message to Zhou Xiaozhi telling him to wait in the parking lot. Because the girl seemed so excited, he hesitated for a moment before handing her the boarding pass. The fan shyly pulled out a pen and asked for an autograph. He lowered his head to sign, thought for a moment, then pulled down his mask and asked, "Do you want a personalized 'To' message?"
"Yes! Can you sign it 'To Lulu's Little Darling'?"
Qi Bailu, mask in hand, was stunned for a second by such unabashed enthusiasm, but he followed her request nonetheless. Seeing how easygoing he was, the fan grew bolder and chatted with him for a few more moments. Finally, she asked, "Gē, are you shy?"
"Am I?"
The fan acted as if she knew him perfectly. "You blush when you're shy."
"..."
Qi Bailu handed her the boarding pass, capped the pen, and handed that back too. The fan said goodbye, and as he turned to leave, she added quickly in a low voice, "You're definitely going to win Best Actor."
It sounded somewhat sincerely foolish. Qi Bailu heard it, stopped in his tracks, turned back, and said seriously, "Thank you."
Zhou Xiaozhi's Passat wasn't hard to find; after all these years, he still drove the same model. Zhou Xiaozhi hadn't mentioned that his father would be there, so when Qi Bailu stood at the back preparing to open the trunk and saw Zhou Xingzhi stepping out of the passenger seat, his eyes flashed with undisguised emotion.
The last time father and son had met was eleven years ago. Zhou Xingzhi had initially intended to help him with his luggage, but seeing Qi Bailu’s face—now devoid of sunglasses—he didn't dare reach out. He seemed afraid to recognize him. Zhou Xiaozhi, stepping out of the car a moment later, also hesitated. In their memories, Qi Bailu was just a thin, beautiful child, shorter than them. Now he had fully filled out, and even his temperament had changed significantly. Even if they had seen him on screen, seeing him in the flesh carried a different kind of impact.
Qi Bailu placed his suitcase in the trunk, slammed the lid shut, and after his gaze swept over the two brothers, he opened the door and sat in the back seat.
On the drive back, Zhou Xiaozhi made small talk, attempting to play the sentimentality card, but Qi Bailu simply kept his head down, playing with his phone, refusing to give even the most basic courtesy. Zhou Xingzhi sat in the passenger seat, occasionally glancing at him through the rearview mirror—looking at this son who was his own flesh and blood. Sensing the scrutiny, Qi Bailu looked up and met his gaze a few times. When Zhou Xingzhi used to beat him, he had been a powerful, forceful man; now, his back was slightly hunched, and he looked haggard. In contrast, Zhou Xiaozhi had likely received a small promotion, and with the benefits he’d skimmed from Zheng Kunyu in the past, his life seemed quite comfortable.
The further the car drove, the more familiar the scenery became. Buildings near and far were bathed in the sunset, their glass splashed with a brilliant afterglow that looked like the raw yolk of a shattered egg. Qi Bailu watched the No. 1 Middle School pass by the window. It was school dismissal time; students in uniforms were streaming out of the gates, their faces blurring behind the car. Turning a corner, he saw the blue traffic sign at the intersection that read: Meizha Road.
Zhou Xiaozhi chimed in, "You're a famous alumnus now. Your photo is still posted on the school's publicity board."
But Qi Bailu’s gaze rested on that brand-new traffic sign. The light turned green, the car moved, and his eyes remained fixed on that corner through the glass.
Upon arriving at his uncle's house, Qi Bailu had dinner with Zhou Xiaozhi’s wife and daughter. Zhou Xiaozhi hadn't moved, but the house had been renovated once, and he had kept the bedroom Qi Bailu had lived in as a teenager. Qi Bailu saw his own certificates on the living room wall, framed in glass, stating that "Student Zhou Bailu" had been awarded the title of "Merit Student" in his final exams. Given Zhou Xiaozhi's temperament, he likely ensured every guest who visited saw that certificate. The whole world knew about his past; even Baidu listed his former name as Zhou Bailu.
At the dining table, Zhou Xiaozhi poured him some wine, saying it was to celebrate his Best Supporting Actor win at the Shanghai International Film Festival. Qi Bailu said he didn't want to drink, but Zhou Xiaozhi took it upon himself to fill the glass anyway, implying that Qi Bailu must have attended plenty of banquets by now and that men shouldn't refuse a drink. Qi Bailu pushed the glass aside and told them to get straight to the point. Zhou Xiaozhi hedged again, "We're eating as a family, let's not talk about that yet."
Zhou Xingzhi said very little. Throughout the meal, the atmosphere was sustained entirely by Zhou Xiaozhi. He seemed very concerned about Qi Bailu's future work arrangements, asking if he planned to sign with a new company. Qi Bailu bluntly said no. Zhou Xiaozhi looked embarrassed, and Zhou Xingzhi couldn't help but snap, "Is that how you talk?"
"It's not your place to manage me." Qi Bailu didn't even look up. Whether in the past or the present, he had never seemed to respect this father's authority.
Qi Bailu's cousin, a high school senior home for summer break, heard this and couldn't help but snicker from across the table, nearly giving him a secret thumbs-up before being glared down by Zhou Xiaozhi. Zhou Xiaozhi and his wife smoothed things over, barely preventing the two from coming to blows on the spot. After dinner, Zhou Xiaozhi shooed his curious daughter back to her room, finally preparing to discuss serious business.
Only the three of them remained in the living room. Qi Bailu unhesitatingly lit a cigarette in front of them; his practiced movements seemed to give Zhou Xingzhi pause. Zhou Xiaozhi laid out his plans, hoping Qi Bailu would provide the money to rent a storefront for Zhou Xingzhi to start a business. They had their eye on a prime location in the city center where they could open a hot pot franchise, promising Qi Bailu a share of the profits later.
Qi Bailu understood. They did indeed want his money. Zhou Xingzhi, newly released from prison, couldn't find work, and Zhou Xiaozhi’s savings were earmarked for sending his daughter abroad to study. So, they had turned their sights on Qi Bailu. He simply couldn't fathom how they could be so shameless—to have hurt him and still dare to reach out and demand.
Seeing no change in his expression, Zhou Xiaozhi asked tentatively, "Am I being too hasty? Do you need time to think about it? You can stay here for a few days; the room is all ready for you..."
"I paid back what I owed you long ago, and I owe him absolutely nothing. Find someone else."
"Bailu—"
Seeing him stand up to leave, Zhou Xiaozhi hurried to stop him, trying to get him to sit back down. But Qi Bailu showed no mercy. "I thought you called me here to apologize. It seems I expected too much."
Zhou Xingzhi, sitting on the opposite sofa, watched the two of them struggle. "You heartless thing."
The words reached Qi Bailu’s ears clearly. He stood still, his eyes cutting back. Zhou Xingzhi continued, "If your mother knew you’d grown up to be such a freak, she’d have been better off never giving birth to you."
Qi Bailu stared at him for a moment, leaned down to stub his cigarette out in the ashtray, and stepped forward. He swung a hand to slap him, but Zhou Xingzhi dodged. Qi Bailu tried to strike again but was grabbed from behind by Zhou Xiaozhi. When Zhou Xingzhi dodged, he knocked over the fruit bowl on the coffee table; several freshly washed green apples went rolling across the floor. Qi Bailu shouted, "Why did she give birth to me? Why was she kicked out of the dance troupe? It was all your fault! You’re the one who should be ashamed!"
Zhou Xiaozhi truly hadn't expected Qi Bailu’s temper to remain unchanged. His current strength wasn't enough to hold him back. Qi Bailu broke free in an instant and landed a blow on Zhou Xingzhi’s face, sending him sprawling onto the sofa. A son hitting his father—it was a total upheaval of the natural order. Zhou Xingzhi scrambled up, and Qi Bailu wanted to give him another slap, but Zhou Xiaozhi caught him just in time. Zhou Xingzhi spat out several foul insults, calling him a son of a whore. Zhou Xiaozhi tried to appease both sides but could only tell Zhou Xingzhi to shut up.
The apples on the floor had stopped rolling, resting quietly in the world beneath their feet. Qi Bailu shook off Zhou Xiaozhi’s hand and turned to leave. Zhou Xingzhi hissed through gritted teeth, "Zhou Bailu, are you really so cold-hearted that you’d drive a man to a dead end?"
Looking at their expressions, one would think it was he who had abandoned his kin. Zhou Xiaozhi said, "Wasn't it you who had Zheng Kunyu make his move?"
Qi Bailu let out a cold laugh, as if he’d heard something utterly absurd. But after two seconds, his emotions leveled out, the smile fading from his face as he confirmed that the name he’d just heard was indeed Zheng Kunyu.
Zhou Xiaozhi asked in disbelief, "You didn't know?"
Qi Bailu looked at them with exhaustion, as if trying to discern if they were lying.
"You asked him for money, didn't you?"
Zhou Xingzhi remained silent, but Qi Bailu guessed the truth. No wonder Zhou Xingzhi hadn't looked for him when he was so desperate for money back then; Zheng Kunyu had blocked him. Qi Bailu asked, "How much did you take?"
"He only gave it to me once. After that, he stopped."
To be precise, Zhou Xingzhi had tried to contact Qi Bailu when he first became famous. At the time, he could only go through Qi Bailu’s manager, but Cheng Wenhui had reported the matter to Zheng Kunyu first. Zheng Kunyu had Cheng Wenhui give Zhou Xingzhi some money to keep him quiet and out of sight. Zhou Xingzhi, knowing the stakes, hadn't dared to extort more. It wasn't until two years later, when he saw Qi Bailu in the headlines and had gambled away all his money, that he tried to contact his son again. The result was being sent to prison.
Qi Bailu still found it incredibly laughable. Such a cowardly, incompetent man was his father.
Qi Bailu said, "You are truly pathetic."
Dragging his suitcase out of the building, he passed through the garden with its wisteria trellises. The blooming season had passed, leaving only dense, emerald-green leaves that blocked out the sky. Two children were playing on the community fitness equipment, making squeaking and clattering noises. Other than that, there was only the sound of the late June cicadas.
Qi Bailu stood in one spot and booked a flight back to Beijing for that night on his phone. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, and the mosquitoes were biting viciously. By the time he started walking again, the bites were itchy and painful. The air was muggy and cloying; he could barely move his legs, yet he couldn't stop.
Two years had passed, and he was still being played for a fool by Zheng Kunyu. How many things had that man done without his knowledge? Qi Bailu remembered clearly that Zhou Xingzhi had been arrested just before Zheng Kunyu’s own downfall, at a time when Zheng Kunyu was already overwhelmed with his own troubles.
He should call Cheng Wenhui, but he didn't want to see anyone right now. As Qi Bailu walked out of the garden, he saw the two children still playing on the fitness equipment called the "Space Walk," painted in yellow and green. *Space Walk*—such a beautiful name. On Earth, it was nothing more than walking in place, swinging back and forth, tethered by gravity.
For the first time, Qi Bailu allowed the tide of memory to wash over him and pull him under. The taxi retraced its route back to the airport, the traffic lights along the way submerged by the tide like a small boat being pushed back to shore by the waves. The driver looked back twice to remind him they had arrived, turning the abstract QR code card toward him. Qi Bailu seemed to only just notice him; he paid and got out.
At this hour, the terminal was still crowded, voices filling the space beneath the vaulted ceiling. Most people were looking down at their phones. As boarding time approached, Qi Bailu’s phone suddenly rang. He saw Ruan Qiuji’s name on the screen. His finger hovered over the answer button for a moment before he declined the call.
The announcement was already urging passengers to board. Qi Bailu stood up and walked toward the gate. He had only taken two steps when the phone rang again. Qi Bailu held his boarding pass and joined the queue, but the phone kept ringing, as if the caller had no intention of stopping until he answered. The person in front of him turned to look. Qi Bailu pulled the phone from his back pocket and answered. "Hello—"
Ruan Qiuji’s voice sounded as clear and steady as ever. "Where are you?"
"The airport."
Ruan Qiuji didn't answer immediately. Qi Bailu heard a lot of noise on his end and said, "If you don't have anything..."
"I'm at the airport too."
Qi Bailu froze, not realizing which airport he meant. Then he remembered Ruan Qiuji had said he was going to Xiamen and assumed he had just arrived there. "I'm not in Xiamen."
"I know."
The line moved forward. Qi Bailu suddenly realized something and stopped walking. He looked back at the queue and asked, "Did you just land?"
"Can you take the next flight?"
The person behind Qi Bailu, seeing him stop, leaned forward to look and then bypassed him to stay in line. Qi Bailu stood there abruptly as Ruan Qiuji called softly from the other end, "Bailu?"
"I'm in Terminal 2," Qi Bailu said, tucking away his boarding pass and walking against the flow of the crowd.
"Can you see the bar that sells beer?"
"No..."
Ruan Qiuji went silent after that question, prompting Qi Bailu to check if the call had been dropped. "Where are you now?"
"I see you."
Qi Bailu looked around but saw only a sea of heads. He didn't see a trace of Ruan Qiuji and seriously doubted if the man had mistaken someone else for him. He was about to speak into the phone when he realized Ruan Qiuji had hung up. His hand was on the screen, about to send a WeChat message, when he looked up and saw him.
Qi Bailu turned his body and looked up as the man walked toward him.
***
