It was now glaringly obvious—both Gan Ling and I had been pretending to be blind, deaf, and dumb about the killer. I was still uneasy, but Gan Ling had already closed her eyes. The living room held a suitcase, the coffee table had documents laid out, and our phones lay side by side by the power strip, charging. The bedroom door was tightly shut, and there was an invisible elephant in the room.
I thought Gan Ling had fallen asleep, but moments later, she opened her eyes and looked at me, our gazes meeting. She hurriedly closed them again, but it was too late—I knew she wasn’t asleep. In a very low voice, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
She knew full well, but I didn’t want to be the first to bring it up. The sound of the ocean waves was right in front of us, and I truly couldn’t bear to make any noise.
But if I didn’t vent the thoughts in my heart, they’d just fester and ferment, swelling up until one day I lost control and they exploded with a bang. No matter what, I had to say something. After thinking it over, I picked a minor issue.
“Why are you hiding? I… I wanted to introduce you to Zhu Erting… She, she knows. Um, she’s my friend.”
I’d originally wanted to say that Zhu Erting knew everything about Zheng Ningning, even knew about me and Li Yongquan. I’d never hidden much from her. But with Gan Ling, I’d hidden so much, yet in the end, here I was lying in Gan Ling’s arms instead of Zhu Erting’s. How strange.
“Mm. I’m not saying.”
“Hm?” I grabbed Gan Ling, pinning her so she couldn’t move. I tickled her, and she finally sighed.
“I’m shameless and have no real close friends—but that doesn’t sound good: I’m doing this for your own good,” Gan Ling said.
I asked how exactly it was for my own good? Was she afraid Zhu Erting would be too scared and drag me off to some old traditional Chinese doctor for treatment?
I said it on purpose, but Gan Ling didn’t laugh. In the darkness, I could only make out her silhouette. I futilely tried to trace it, but felt like I couldn’t grasp her. So I scooted closer. Gan Ling thought I was going to kiss her and turned her face away, her cheek bumping my lips instead. She jerked back.
That stung, and I felt a bit at a loss, so I murmured that I’d brushed my teeth and didn’t have bad breath.
But Gan Ling didn’t argue, staying true to form by leaning in for a kiss to prove she didn’t mind.
That wasn’t my goal, though. I turned my head away, refusing. “Tell me how this is for my own good. I want to hear it.”
“In the middle of the night, we have to talk about this?”
“You’re not asleep anyway. I want to know.”
Sometimes I realized I had certain privileges in front of the cool, tough Gan Ling. Using them would make me “acting up.” Not using them meant we’d be politely distant. Though I said I was willing to endure more and shoulder more, in truth, by tolerating and accommodating her, it felt like I’d planted seeds of sacrifice, waiting for multiplied returns of sweet favoritism.
In the dead of night, I suddenly pulled out my privilege card, half-angry, half-coercing her to give me a serious explanation.
Gan Ling wasn’t one to dodge or joke around either. Like a responsible kindergarten teacher, she’d give a sincere, earnest answer to every question. She lowered her eyes, pondering for a moment, her voice dropping especially low. I focused hard to hear this “for your own good.”
“I think you’ll regret being with me later. Coming back to Neng County would mean even more gossip.”
I was a bit shocked. “But… why do you assume that? Why assume I’ll regret leaving with… Why not you abandoning me? Besides, we’ve only… just gotten together not long ago.”
“You’ll regret it.” Gan Ling just trotted out her blunt conclusion again, as if she knew me inside out, slapping down the verdict and trying to move past it.
I felt belittled, my nose souring with grievance. I wanted to give her a beating, but in the end, I didn’t.
“Elaborate on your reasons.”
“Go to sleep.”
Gan Ling’s brush-offs were always half-hearted. She could explain things logically clear, but she chose to brush me off.
“Gan Ling—” I called out. She rolled over, back to me, blocking my words with her back like she was sulking. But I wasn’t angry yet—I had no reason to feel guilty. The killer thing wasn’t me deliberately hiding it; she just wouldn’t listen. Now Zhu Erting had exposed it, and neither of us mentioned it. I’d done nothing wrong by her.
My spark of anger was just starting to catch—click click—but then Gan Ling suddenly spoke: “The reason is… you haven’t been out there yet.”
“What kind of reason is that?”
“I mean, from now on, life with me will be full of anxiety and fear, no security. With the pandemic, jobs, employment, the whole economic situation… nothing stable. And lots of things are different from Neng County…”
“You’re looking down on me.”
“No.”
If she wasn’t looking down on me, why say that? It couldn’t be that she was the one scared, right? The issues she listed barely rippled in Neng County’s small pond, but out there, for someone who’s weathered real storms, weren’t they even more dangerous signals?
The bed felt like it was rocking in a gale. Pfft—my anger was snuffed out. I tugged at Gan Ling. Her worries were like treasure hidden behind frosted glass—if I guessed right, the door would open. But now, squinting for all I was worth, I still couldn’t see. She was deliberately hiding it, I sucked at prying, and she wouldn’t tell me. I could barely get anything out of her.
Of course, she was teaching me by example to learn how to refuse—even when we were lying in the same bed.
Then I suddenly remembered something.
When packing all our luggage, our plan was to go see the sea first for a trip, then find a place in Wuhan, come back to ship our stuff, and settle there together.
So we’d spent a whole day in a frenzy packing. In the end, I dug out the property deed and pondered whether to keep the house for renting or not. Even empty, maybe one day I’d come back?
But Gan Ling had said she wouldn’t return to Neng County, so keeping it seemed pointless.
Deciding the house’s fate really stumped me. I realized my migrations were always from one house to another. At major turning points in my life, houses were inextricably linked. Unlike a snail that carries its home, I swapped homes.
While I was still mulling it over, Gan Ling came over and suddenly cut in: “I thought of something—we should bring a parasol.”
And just like that, it got sidetracked.
Actually, I’d already decided. Emotionally, no need to say. Rationally, the house in Neng County had no appreciation potential and wouldn’t rent out. If I never came back, managing a rental would be a hassle—eventually it’d be trashed.
The only regret was that I’d probably be far from my friend Zhu Erting forever. Aside from that, I couldn’t think of any benefit to keeping it.
It felt like the final stage of breaking free—understanding what I truly needed in life.
Just as I’d left the orchard and my hometown to follow Lu Jinshi to Neng County, now I could leave Neng County’s house and board the train to Qingdao with Gan Ling.
But this unresolved issue of mine didn’t seem to address Gan Ling’s worries head-on.
Still, I told her: “When we get back, I’ll tidy up and sell the house… Lu Jinshi has friends and connections. I’ll ask him tomorrow—should be quick. He was reliable when we sold the other one.”
“Why sell the house? Keep it. What if later—”
“I won’t come back to Neng County either. This was never my home to begin with.”
Gan Ling had already turned, propping herself up to say something, but the words stuck in her throat and she swallowed them.
“People don’t get married planning to divorce, even though many do… I’m not leaving you by going with you. Even if we might part someday, I still wouldn’t return to Neng County. You’re thinking too far ahead, too anxious. I get it, but… I’m not happy. I feel like you’re disrespecting me. I haven’t even spoken, and you’re concluding I’ll regret leaving you. Don’t do that anymore.”
Gan Ling got flustered and flung off the covers. “You don’t get it. If you follow me, it’ll be a life of wandering, every day…”
“I expressed my feelings, like you taught me. I’m not happy.”
For the first time, I pushed back like this, staring straight at Gan Ling without backing down. Voicing my feelings felt like throwing a weapon. I glared until her brows furrowed hard. I couldn’t fathom what was in her head. We were leaving to play tomorrow, yet she was anxiously picturing our inevitable split. What was she, living toward death? Planning pessimistically for our last days?
“I’m stating facts!” Gan Ling started being unreasonable.
“I can’t win an argument with you, and I don’t want to fight in the middle of the night. I’ll just tell you this: I’m more patient than you. If you’re tired, no matter what it is, let me share the burden. I can take on more. My stamina sucks, so I’ll eat more, run every day… I’m not proactive, but being reactive works too. Whatever happens, I can handle it.”
“But—”
“But what? Nothing’s impossible. Go to sleep.”
I turned my back to her, yanked the blanket over me, and forced myself to sleep with my eyes closed. Gan Ling sighed faintly behind me, as if all the world’s sorrows were fermenting in her lungs. I grew drowsy listening to it and, almost heartlessly, drifted off to sleep. Gan Ling lay behind me, slowly wrapping her arms around my waist. I knew her condition might be easing. After a pause, I decided to forgive this woman. I turned around to face her. Looking at Gan Ling, I suddenly felt that what I’d just said was too presumptuous—I hadn’t considered her feelings.
She must have endured far more hardships than I knew. I was like a child blabbering nonsense; in her eyes, difficulties were concrete, while to me they were vague, so our perceptions differed—like the pain of a plank striking the palm versus a sharp knife stabbing it, not the same kind at all.
“Sorry, I was a bit naive,” I apologized softly.
Gan Ling didn’t speak.
“I decided to get engaged to Lu Jinshi because his parents are nice… His mom was going to give me a family heirloom bracelet, which made me feel valued, so I agreed to the engagement.”
Gan Ling shifted slightly, hugging me tightly. She knew I wasn’t reminiscing about Lu Jinshi’s good qualities and quietly waited for what came next.
“I want to go with you—not for any other reason, not because of your parents or mine… not even because of Ningning,” I knew this way of putting it would make Gan Ling understand clearly, while letting me express my feelings without too much awkwardness. “I want to go with you just because I want to go with you. It sounds like nonsense… but that’s it. I can’t explain it. I want to be with you; wherever you go, I’ll go.”
“Because it’s what I want, it’s my decision. I’m just mad that you decided for me that I’ll definitely regret it someday… Maybe I’ll smash into a brick wall and never turn back, just live out my life with you like this… Are you going to wait until I’m dead to apologize at my tombstone for underestimating me back then?”
I still didn’t want to make it too serious, so I turned the last line into a deliberate joke.
“What should I do without you?”
I never expected Gan Ling to say something like that.
I reached for her face in shock, and it was drenched, soaked with tears.
“I brought a knife… and found Zheng Chenggang,” Gan Ling finally broke down, clutching my shoulders tightly. “I’ve been lying to you this whole time. I don’t want to live anymore.”
