“I’m Xiang Yu—the Xiang with the fire radical on the left, then a sun on the right, and a stand at the bottom for the Yu.
“Does it have any special meaning?
“Nothing special, just that the sun was blazing on the day I was born. But names like Xiang Yang or Xiang Ri didn’t sound great, so they chose this Yu instead. It means shining sun too.”
“I’m Ren Dongliu.
“Does it have any special meaning?
“Nothing special either—just the literal meaning. Like a river of spring water flowing eastward, the Dongliu that flows away to the east.”
—
Jingbei City First People’s Hospital, Third Inpatient Department.
Xiang Yu lay on the hospital bed, her face deathly pale. Her eyelids drooped, occasionally flicking a glance before pulling back. Her gaze settled on the TV screen hanging on the white wall of the single room.
It was an episode of Boys and Girls Forward Rush, the obstacle-course game show, with the time synced in the upper left corner—8:30.
Xiang Yu closed her eyes. Ren Sanliu would appear in the room in 30 minutes.
“You went through something this huge and dared to hide it from me?!”
Qin Yuan spoke as she stuffed Xiang Yu’s bloodstained police uniform into a bag.
She was Xiang Yu’s aunt, a renowned oil painter in the industry—a highly educated, intelligent, and financially independent woman in her forties. Unmarried and childless, with impeccable self-care, the two often got mistaken for sisters.
Qin Yuan slammed the bag onto the single sofa in the room, her brows furrowed into a ‘川’ shape. It wasn’t surprising she was this furious. Xiang Yu had made it clear before the mission: as long as she was still breathing, no family contact.
Qin Yuan had been abroad for an art exhibition. If not for the phone news push about Xiang Yu’s injury, she’d still be in the dark. She’d booked the next flight back immediately, but even rushing across oceans, she was too late. By the time she arrived, Xiang Yu’s surgery was done.
The doctor said if they’d been one minute later getting her there, Xiang Yu wouldn’t have made it.
“What did your grandma say before she passed? Your promises don’t count for anything, fine—I get you’re the team leader, I understand charging into danger. But if you keep doing this… how am I supposed to handle it?! If you’re gonna keep throwing your life away like this, you might as well kill me first!”
Xiang Yu kept her eyes closed, silent.
Her lashes trembled. She felt so guilty.
Her grandfather had been a cop, her parents too—all three died in the line of duty. Her grandfather hadn’t even reached fifty, her parents not forty. Her grandma spent the first half of her life on tenterhooks for her husband, the second half heartbroken by her daughter and son-in-law’s early deaths. That was when Xiang Yu learned there was such a thing as broken heart syndrome.
“Auntie, I was wrong…”
Xiang Yu’s voice came out faint and weak. She sneaked another glance at the synced time in the upper left of the TV screen.
8:45. Ren Sanliu would appear in 15 minutes.
Who was Ren Sanliu? Xiang Yu’s girlfriend from high school. By all rights, after so many years apart, Xiang Yu figured she should be over it. But for some reason, just thinking of her made Xiang Yu ache like her skin was being peeled off—pain not one bit less than the bullet in her leg.
Ever since the anesthesia wore off, she’d been mulling it over. In the end, it boiled down to her being the one dumped. These days, everything had PTSD. Fine most of the time, but when it hit… every bone in her body twisted up.
She glanced at Qin Yuan again, hoping her aunt would cool off given how weak she was. Scold her if she must, but at home—not now.
Xiang Yu really didn’t want her aunt running into Ren Sanliu.
After all, she’d come out of the closet to her aunt for Ren Sanliu. The chest-thumping vows back then now slapped her just as hard.
If possible, Xiang Yu didn’t even want to see Ren Sanliu herself.
“I can’t control you. You won’t listen to a word I say!”
Qin Yuan headed to the bathroom as she spoke, clattering around at who-knows-what. When she emerged, her face and hands were wet, her eyes brimming too—like she’d cried and was covering it with a face wash.
“Tell me! Who do I need to call to make you actually listen? Give me a name today, and even if it’s the king of heaven, I’ll dig three feet under to find them!”
Xiang Yu’s heart skipped. Something flashed in her eyes.
She’d been on her own for years, doing whatever she pleased. Who could rein her in?
Probably someone even more heartless.
Heartless?
Ren Sanliu fit the bill.
She’d left without a backward glance, cutting ties clean.
Xiang Yu’s eyes half-closed as she instinctively checked the time in the upper left of the TV screen—
8:56. Ren Sanliu would appear in 4 minutes.
She’d said before leaving that she’d return at 9. She was always punctual, so she’d step through the door right at 9:00.
“Auntie… I really was wrong… Calm down…”
“And… I’m not used to this hospital gown. Why don’t you go home first… and grab me some clothes?” Watching the seconds tick on the screen, Xiang Yu’s heart itched like grass growing wild, gnawing at her like bugs—pain and itch swelling through her limbs, making her spine restless on the bed.
She needed an excuse to get her aunt out fast.
Qin Yuan was angry, sure, but if she didn’t care, why get mad? These years, she’d watched loved ones die or vanish one by one… that gut-wrenching pain, who could understand? Now it was just her and Xiang Yu holding on. She didn’t care about achievements—just safety. Seeing Xiang Yu’s pallor, her tone softened with a pleading edge. She sighed and nodded.
Xiang Yu fully opened her half-lidded eyes, staring unblinkingly at the TV time. The host began the countdown. The challenger on the wheel wobbled—as long as she crossed the last balance beam and dodged the final swing hammer, the grand prize was hers.
8:58. Two minutes left…
Ren Sanliu was probably in the elevator now… Room on the fourteenth floor, she’d just hit the fifth.
Xiang Yu counted down in her head…
One minute fifty seconds…
One minute forty…
One minute thirty…
“I’ll head out then… Call the nurse if you need anything…”
Qin Yuan grabbed the bag in one hand, her own bag in the other.
One minute twenty…
“I’ll grab clothes and come right back…”
One minute ten…
“Don’t move around alone…”
Still time. Ren Sanliu’s punctuality was bone-deep. Right at 9:00… 9:00 she’d appear at the door.
No collision.
One minute exactly…
Knock knock—two crisp raps.
Qin Yuan had just reached the door. The person outside stood right there too.
Qin Yuan going out, Ren Sanliu coming in.
Splash—
Water erupted from the TV as the swing hammer mercilessly knocked the challenger into the pool.
“Time’s up, challenge failed.” The host stopped the stopwatch.
At the same moment, Xiang Yu’s loosely curled fingers clenched tight… knuckles blanching instantly…
Done for…
8:59.
Ren Sanliu was a minute early.
One minute could be nothing—bland as plain water. Or everything—like volcanic lava, devastating all; like an earthquake, crumbling mountains in a blink.
Xiang Yu felt like she lay in ruins already, struggling futilely.
She glanced weakly at the door, her bones sighing…
She’d thought of reuniting with Ren Sanliu plenty over the years—not just thought, but fantasized a thousand scenarios. In uniform, crisp—on a podium, on TV, or at worst striding past carefree.
But this? She couldn’t even hold her neck up.
That palm-sized spot in Xiang Yu’s chest… hollow and stuffy, like saline soil doused in sulfuric acid… barren for a century.
Heaven toyed with her twice. Pathetic at the breakup, pathetic now.
She’d figured if not a peak reunion, at least mutual forgetting. Instead… hospital room.
Xiang Yu’s wilted face hid inner resentment… all those reunion fantasies in her head had manifested into reality.
“You…” Qin Yuan’s gaze landed on the newcomer’s face.
“Auntie, hello. I’m Ren Sanliu.”
Even without the intro, Qin Yuan remembered her. First, she was Xiang Yu’s first and only girlfriend. Second, Ren Sanliu was stunningly beautiful. At seventeen or eighteen back then, already poised and graceful. Qin Yuan had high aesthetic taste, seen plenty of beauties, but none impressed like her. She’d thought the girl was no ordinary one. Years later, only more so.
Of course, the last sight stuck deepest.
Gaokao eve, at their home door. Opposite of now: Ren Sanliu rushing out, Qin Yuan coming in.
They collided face-to-face, but Ren Sanliu hurried off without a greeting. Xiang Yu… lay in bed, eyes closed, face tear-streaked, bare shoulders heaving with sobs under thin covers, cried out exhausted.
Qin Yuan never knew why they split or how bad it was, but after, Xiang Yu couldn’t even hear Ren Sanliu’s name.
Ren Sanliu had natural pale skin, wearing a silver-gray suit skirt over a white shirt. Standing at the door facing the window, bright light haloed her slender, slim figure. Gone was the youthful greenness; now her aura was reserved nobility, every gesture refined. Only those eyes remained—cool as ever.
“It’s you…” Qin Yuan nodded at Ren Sanliu, then recalled something. “I heard from Wei Zhi you stayed with Little Yu all last night.”
“Yes, last night was critical. I felt better watching over.” Ren Sanliu’s gaze shifted to Xiang Yu in the room.
Clearly, she didn’t want to see her—head turned, offering only the back.
“You…”
Qin Yuan’s expression grew subtle. In this situation, after much thought and long silence, she spoke suddenly—
“Do you have time now? I’d like to talk.”
“Sure, I have time.”
The door shut with a bang. The bed’s feigned-deaf-mute stirred her fingers…
Xiang Yu’s gaze drifted to the window… two birds perched on the sill, beaks pecking.
…
When Ren Sanliu pushed the door open again, she saw the bed’s occupant side-lying, one hand stretching for the bedside water cup. Xiang Yu’s injury was in her right thigh; her lower body lacked strength.
“Why are you back?” Xiang Yu stared blankly at her.
“Aren’t you thirsty? Here, drink.” Ren Sanliu skipped unwanted questions like always, taking the cup and offering the straw to Xiang Yu’s lips.
“What are you here for?”
Xiang Yu’s voice was weak, words cold and laced with impatience.
“I watched over you all night. You sure you want to say that now?”
Ren Sanliu was exhausted—no sleep, rushed home at dawn for a change, then back. From learning of Xiang Yu’s injury, her nerves had been taut. Even out of danger, the weight on her heart hadn’t lifted.
“I don’t need you watching. Go home.”
Xiang Yu finished speaking and closed her eyes, but the muscles at the corner of her eyes kept twitching.
Each twitch seemed to betray her insincerity, as if she were forcing herself to play the role of a heartless villain who didn’t know right from wrong.
Ren Sanliu didn’t call her out on it or press her. She simply held the cup of water in her hands, fiddling with the straw, and gazed at her quietly.
She watched like that for a long time, until a tender warmth leaked onto her weary face, growing ever more intense and impossible to contain.
“Xiang Yu, how long have we known each other?”
“Fourteen years, right? Time flies…”
A hint of emotion colored Ren Sanliu’s voice. Fourteen years of tangling with the same person—wasn’t this fate’s subtle design?
“Back then, did you ever imagine yourself becoming a police officer one day? Charging into gunfire at the front lines?”
Xiang Yu lay on the bed. When she heard Ren Sanliu say that, her brow furrowed involuntarily.
In that moment, a flood of thoughts surged through her mind.
Fourteen years… So they had known each other for that long.
“Xiang Yu… Do you still remember the scene from our first meeting?”
Ren Sanliu spoke softly and slowly, her knee gently nudging against the edge of the white bedframe. Faint blue veins showed through her fair skin.
What had Xiang Yu been like back then?
She had been all eyes for Ren Sanliu, silently guarding her from behind, protecting her so no one could bully her.
But at seventeen or eighteen, they had been so young—too young to know the heights of the heavens or the vastness of a lifetime. Yet at that age, they had planted a seed in each other’s hearts, one they themselves hadn’t even realized.
Now, in the river of time, that seed had been nurtured. Though it hadn’t grown in the direction they once imagined, it had still bloomed.
Ren Sanliu’s gentle voice, casual as everyday chatter, unwittingly stirred Xiang Yu’s memories—
That first time, not exactly pleasant, even a bit embarrassing… but one she felt endlessly grateful for every time she recalled it.
“Nothing worth remembering.”
Xiang Yu turned her head away.
