Chapter 90

The screen had gone dark, yet Lu Heyang still stared at the Mobile Phone. A long time later, he picked up his glass again, but did not drink, only asking, 'Is there anything else?'

'Yes.' Jiang Wen took a USB drive from his pocket and set it on the coffee table. He paused, then said, 'But think it over before you listen.'

He rarely offered Lu Heyang advice, almost never, but the contents of this recording were not exactly suitable for the Lu Heyang of now — perhaps it was better not to know.

From an outsider's perspective, if Lu Heyang could not recover his memories, and if he and Xu Ze were to be together again, then the most appropriate way to handle the truth about Xu Ze's father's sacrifice was to never bring it up. In relationships, sometimes a certain degree of 'letting sleeping dogs lie' made things easier.

Given Xu Ze's character, he would never take the initiative to speak of it either, enough to ensure this fact could be safely hidden for a lifetime — not necessarily a bad thing.

Lu Heyang looked at the USB drive for a few seconds, gave no answer, reached over for the decanter, and poured Jiang Wen another half-glass.

They drank until nearly dawn before stopping. Jiang Wen went to rest in the guest room. Lu Heyang stood up, walked slowly to the floor-to-ceiling window, opened his Mobile Phone, and dialed a number.

He must have been somewhat unsober indeed, for it was only after the call connected that he realized the hour was far too early, and he hung up at once.

Not long after, the Mobile Phone rang. Lu Heyang, uncharacteristically, stared blankly for a moment before answering.

'…' A second of quiet on the other end, then an uncertain tone. 'Colonel?'

The same timbre as those four 'Happy birthdays' in the recordings — as though it would never change, no matter how much time passed.

'Did I wake you?'

'No, I was already up. I'd just finished washing up and came back to see a missed call.' Xu Ze asked, 'Is something the matter?'

'Mm, no.'

Xu Ze must have turned those three words over in his mind for a while, before finally asking, 'Have you been drinking?'

'Yes.'

'How—'

Only those two words, but one could easily imagine the full sentence would have been 'how did you drink until now.' Yet Xu Ze must have realized such a question crossed a line, so he only said, 'Your Susceptibility Period just ended; you should take care of your health.'

'Alright, I know. Thank you.'

They fell silent for half a minute. Lu Heyang said, 'Go on with your work, Doctor Xu. Sorry to disturb you so early.'

'No, it's fine.'

A polite, distanced conversation ended. Lu Heyang turned back to the sofa, picked up the USB drive from the coffee table, and went to the bedroom.

The next day was fine weather. Lu Heyang returned to the Base once, and after handling matters, he drove out, passed through Chengxi, and arrived at the Old Town.

The roads and shop signs along the street bore traces of renovation, but the buildings remained old. Lu Heyang slowed the car, rolled down the window, and surveyed the unfamiliar scene before him. Guided by the navigation, he turned a few corners and drove into an old residential compound.

The trees below the building were tall, their leaves already fallen. Lu Heyang got out of the car, confirmed the building number from a rusted blue metal sign, and entered the stairwell. Mottled handrails, walls plastered with small ads, and the smell of dust in the air — Lu Heyang climbed the stairs step by step, stopping before a door.

A security gate, a wooden door. Unexpectedly, the inner door seemed slightly ajar, a sliver of light seeping through the crack.

Having learned from Jiang Wen beforehand that this apartment had not been sold or rented out, that it stood empty, Lu Heyang reached through the bars, turned the lock on the security gate. The surroundings were too quiet, making the sound of the door opening seem abrupt. Lu Heyang then pushed open the wooden door and entered.

A living room empty to an absurd degree: a small dining table, a chair, a trash bin, an old radio. It was clean, with little else, yet at the same time it did not look like a place long uninhabited — more as though the owner had stepped out briefly to buy groceries and forgotten to lock up.

He stood in the living room for a few minutes, then walked toward the bedroom. The door was not locked; the handle gave with a light press. Lu Heyang stepped inside to see the curtains drawn open, the whole room bright with sunlight, beyond the window the greyish-brown tips of tree branches. His gaze swept over the wardrobe, the desk, the chair, the electric fan shrouded in a plastic bag against the dust, and finally settled on the small bed half-blocked by the wardrobe.

He walked to the desk and looked across at the small bed. The bed was neatly made with a mattress, a thick quilt bunched into a mound, rising and falling with a regular, slight rhythm. A few strands of black hair peeked out from beneath the covers, resting peacefully against the pillow.

His rotation in Respiratory Medicine had ended. Because he might go to a Research Institute abroad next semester, Xu Ze had not applied for further rotations, but had instead returned nominally to the Pheromone and Blood Department, going in occasionally a few times a week, spending most of his time in the Military Medical University laboratories.

He didn't need to go to Hospital 195 today, and the work in the lab wasn't too urgent, so Xu Ze had unexpectedly managed to carve out a day's rest. He had come to the Old Town in the morning, carried the quilt up to the rooftop to air, then bought groceries and cooked. After eating alone, cleaning up, he went upstairs to fetch the quilt, spread it on the bed, took off his outer clothes, and burrowed under the covers to sleep.

Over the years, Xu Ze had developed a strange habit — returning to the old apartment to take afternoon naps. Perhaps because his teenage years were always short on sleep, and after studying medicine he couldn't escape the hellish schedule, he had come to treat napping as a hobby. But he was usually too busy; opportunities to indulge this hobby were few, sometimes only once every few months.

There was another reason, verified through practice: Xu Ze had discovered that sleeping here increased the probability of dreaming about Lu Heyang.

The clearest dream was last summer, right in this small room, the curtains billowing in the wind, a faint scent of Plum Blossom in the air. Lu Heyang, wearing his school uniform, sat at the desk, turning on the electric fan as he said softly, 'It might take a while. It's fine if you don't wait.'

Lu Heyang was still the eighteen-year-old Lu Heyang, yet Xu Ze could feel that he himself was not the eighteen-year-old Xu Ze.

The fan blew toward him. Xu Ze sat on the edge of the bed. Even knowing what came later, knowing they would ultimately part, even knowing this was a dream, he still nodded without hesitation, just as he had stubbornly done countless times in reality, and answered, 'I'll wait.'

When he woke from that dream, Xu Ze sat dazed for a long time. By then, it had been nearly six years since he had seen Lu Heyang, so even in dreams he could only conjure the high-school version.

Sustained by these distant, illusory things, yet harboring no particular aim — sometimes even Xu Ze himself did not quite understand.

Endless memories, replayed over and over until almost no new detail could be found, and the scant few meetings in dreams — in truth, dreaming of him didn't bring joy either; on the contrary, it left a profound emptiness. Yet if he wanted to see Lu Heyang, it seemed this was the only way.

To return to that sea of bitterness from his teens, and meet again.

Today he had dreamed of nothing. Xu Ze opened his eyes. The quilt was warm and still, carrying the particular smell of something freshly aired. He turned over, poked his head out a little, and took a deep breath.

Halfway through the breath, he froze abruptly. Xu Ze stared in astonishment at the Alpha leaning against the desk, suspecting he had not actually woken but fallen into a second layer of dream.

Yet the figure opposite did not seem to be the high-school Lu Heyang — taller, more mature, different from the image in past dreams.

Xu Ze slowly sat up in bed, his gaze fixed on Lu Heyang, unable to fathom how he knew of this place, why he had come — Xu Ze thought of one possibility.

With extreme seriousness, he scrutinized Lu Heyang's eyes, trying to find evidence. A long time later, he gradually relaxed his taut shoulders, his upper body bending forward slightly. Whether it was relief or disappointment was hard to tell; Xu Ze's emotions were always faint.

'The main door wasn't closed properly,' Lu Heyang said.

Xu Ze thought about it. He must have used his shoulder to push the door shut when he came back carrying the quilt, thinking it was closed when it wasn't.

'It's fine,' he reassured Lu Heyang instead. 'There's nothing of value in the house anyway.'

It was only one step away from being utterly bare — the kind of place where a thief might feel compelled to leave ten yuan behind before leaving.

Lu Heyang reminded him, 'On the black market, an S-Class Alpha can fetch at least a million.'

It was a joke, yet Xu Ze could not see the corresponding trace of a smile on Lu Heyang's face. He felt something off — the man standing there did not seem like the Lu Heyang with memories, nor like the Lu Heyang who had completely lost them. It was subtly strange.

'Colonel.' He said it for Lu Heyang to hear, and for himself to hear. Xu Ze asked, 'How did you know about this place?'

'Someone told me.'

He didn't give a name — not He Wei or Gu Yunchi — which meant it was someone whose name Xu Ze didn't know, yet who could accurately know the apartment number, most likely a former bodyguard. Xu Ze's heart began to sink. He guessed Lu Heyang was learning about the past, but why would that lead directly to his own home?

As a rather inconspicuous part of Lu Heyang's life, logically he should have been among the last to be looked into.

Xu Ze shifted out from under the quilt, got out of bed, felt for the sweater at the foot of the bed and pulled it on. He didn't continue asking Lu Heyang why he had come, only saying, 'I'll get you a glass of water.'

'Alright, thank you.'

He went to the kitchen, poured a glass of warm water, and returned to the room. Lu Heyang still stood by the desk. Xu Ze handed him the glass, hesitated, then asked, 'Is your holiday ending?'

'Mm, today's the last day.'

As Lu Heyang took the glass, Xu Ze briefly touched his fingers — they were a little cold. Xu Ze then looked at Lu Heyang's collar, trying to count how many layers he wore.

'Do you come back to stay often?' Lu Heyang asked, looking at Xu Ze's face.

'Not often.' Xu Ze withdrew his gaze and explained, 'I just happened to have time today, so I came back to cook and take a nap.'

An empty house, no family waiting for his return, no one to prepare a table of reunion dishes — even such a lonely, incomplete home, he would cross half the Capital City to return to whenever he had a moment, cook for himself, clean, then quietly take an afternoon nap, leaving again when dusk fell.

He might once have found it difficult to understand, but Lu Heyang understood now.

Some people were just like that, unchanging year after year — would not change, simply would not. Their voice, expression, gaze, or a character prone to waiting without expectation.

Did waiting without expectation still count as waiting? Did it feel hard? — He ought to ask Xu Ze that, only not yet.

After a long silence, Lu Heyang smiled faintly. 'I disturbed you.'

Seeing Lu Heyang smile, the sense of strangeness in Xu Ze's heart finally eased a little, and his own expression lightened slightly in turn. He pressed his lips together and said, 'No, you didn't. I didn't hear any sound; I only saw you after I woke up.'

In this house, the person he had only been able to see in dreams since he was eighteen — to wake one day and find that person standing before him, what a good thing that was.

Lu Heyang was still looking at Xu Ze. 'When are you leaving?'

'A bit later.' Xu Ze glanced back at the window. 'When the sun goes down.'

In that moment, Lu Heyang wanted to reach out, grip the nape of Xu Ze's neck, turn his head back, make him look at him. But before this desire fully formed, Xu Ze had already turned his head back, those deep grey eyes meeting Lu Heyang's gaze once more.

'It's still early,' Xu Ze added.

'Then I'll go first. Sorry to trouble you today.'

'No trouble at all.' Xu Ze still said the same.

Before leaving the room, Lu Heyang drank the half-glass of water Xu Ze had given him. Xu Ze saw him to the door. After stepping out, Lu Heyang turned back, looked at Xu Ze for a few seconds — and in those seconds Xu Ze was certain Lu Heyang had something to say — but in the end Lu Heyang only raised his hand and brushed the back of it against Xu Ze's cheek.

He said nothing. Lu Heyang walked downstairs. Xu Ze watched him disappear around the stairwell corner, then closed the door, returned to the room, and stood by the window to look down.

He saw Lu Heyang pass beneath the leafless tree, get into his car, and drive out of sight.

Having circled the building, not yet out of the compound, Lu Heyang parked the car beneath the wall and picked up his Mobile Phone to make a call.

'Hello, Colonel.'

'Doctor Su, will you be coming to the Capital City in the near future?'

'I'll be there in a week. Do you need something?'

'A long time ago, you once listed several treatment plans for me. I wonder if you still remember.'

'I do,' Su Lian replied. 'But as you should also recall, I explained at the time that those plans carried significant risk. The Military Headquarters would never agree to you attempting them.'

'Mm.' Lu Heyang's tone was calm. 'Then we won't need the Military Headquarters' approval.'

'Colonel, you know better than I do — every psychological counseling session for a League pilot requires application and approval from the Military Headquarters.' Su Lian's voice grew serious with disbelief. 'Concealing treatment is a violation of military discipline.'

'Of course.' Lu Heyang rolled down the car window, letting the wind in. 'I will contact a relevant institution for confidential treatment. I hope you can be my attending physician — you have a better understanding of my situation.'

Realizing that Lu Heyang seemed not to take her words — or rather, military discipline — seriously at all, Su Lian fell silent for a good while before saying, 'I don't understand.'

'This is merely a personal decision of mine. Not understanding doesn't affect it.' Lu Heyang reasoned with her. 'After you return to the Capital City, we can talk. You can refuse me then, it's fine. I wish you smooth work, Doctor Su.'

'…Alright, Colonel.'

Doctor Su, who from this moment onward could no longer feel her work going smoothly, hung up. Lu Heyang set the Mobile Phone aside and started the car again.