Chapter 20: “End of the Night Train” Part 4

She scanned the surroundings first, then, noting scarcely anyone around, wore a puzzled look before approaching Fu Tingli.

“Miss Fu, I’ve brought your car.”

Fu Tingli narrowed her eyes, staring at this complete stranger for a long moment. Then, as if piecing it together, she let out a soft sigh and said slowly, “Everyone’s gone. You know you’re late, right?”

An unmistakable “oh” of realization flashed across the woman’s face, quickly schooled into a neutral mask. In a tone full of respect, she replied, “My apologies for being late. Feel free to dock my pay.”

“No need.” Fu Tingli clutched her uneasy stomach and slid into the driver’s seat, buckling up.

Seeing the woman still standing there, she popped open the passenger door. “What’s your name?”

The woman—specially instructed to manage her expressions—couldn’t quite read Fu Tingli’s intent but answered straightforwardly. “Xia Lai.”

“Right, Xia Lai.” Fu Tingli smacked the steering wheel. “Hop in quick! They haven’t gone far—we can still complete your mission.”

Xia Lai climbed in, a bit dazed. “Huh? What mission?”

Fu Tingli fell abruptly silent, staring at the wheel and the open passenger seat. After a beat, she seemed to snap out of it.

She turned to Xia Lai with a smile.

But the wind diluted that smile, pairing it with her pallid complexion, hair casually swept back only to drift across her cheeks and neck, her overly slender shoulders, the subtle jut of her shoulder blades even beneath the coat.

It all gave Xia Lai an inexplicable sense that the woman before her felt somewhat aloof and melancholic.

Was it because she hadn’t arrived in time… and she’d been picked on by those people? Xia Lai wondered idly.

But the next second, Fu Tingli turned to face the road ahead. Red light and shadow washed through her deep eye sockets, lending her a gorgeously free-spirited beauty—as if that prior glimpse had been an illusion.

“Let’s go, Xia Lai. We’ll catch up to them.” Amid the whipping wind, Fu Tingli’s laughing voice reached her.

Then, with a mighty roar, the car surged forward. In an instant, any trace of that vague aloofness and melancholy was scattered to the winds.

The next moment, Xia Lai was anything but bored.

Her attention was utterly hijacked—by the car she’d delivered, and by Fu Tingli behind the wheel.

This woman appeared so mild and fragile, her face as pale as thin paper that might tear at the slightest breeze, endless coughs leaking from its folds.

Yet when she drove, she transformed into a canvas splashed with wild colors, every hue bizarre and vivid, infused with a fierce, lively energy.

Amid the sports car’s howling engine, Xia Lai watched in startled awe as they barreled through the chaos of headlights, weaving past one vehicle after another on the road.

Cars they overtook reacted variably—some with tightly shut windows, others hastily rolling theirs down to reveal shocked faces, a few even waving back.

The speed wasn’t as breakneck as she’d imagined. It was the engine’s thunderous roar, Fu Tingli’s laughter gliding through the night lights, and the way she enthusiastically waved at those lowered windows.

All of it made Xia Lai feel like her trip hadn’t been in vain.

The stretch didn’t last long. They hit a speed-limited section, slowing down as the roar quieted.

Fu Tingli was coughing again, but the laughter that followed rang even fuller than before.

That paper-thin frailty returned, though now it seemed filled with something else—not quite so hollow.

Xia Lai mused. Then she watched as Fu Tingli, still laughing, rested her hand on the door frame and casually flipped on the car radio.

For a split second, Xia Lai almost thought this car had always been hers. But she knew it wasn’t.

The radio station hadn’t been changed.

Static crackled through, noisy and disordered—like a defunct broadcast long vanished from the airwaves.

“Want some music?” Xia Lai wasn’t all that familiar with the car herself.

“No need.” Fu Tingli turned her head, eyes crinkling in a smile. “Just testing it out. If nothing’s there, oh well.”

She said that, but once it was on, she left it playing.

Xia Lai nodded, unable to tear her gaze from Fu Tingli.

Unexpectedly, Fu Tingli noticed.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” Fu Tingli asked, calmly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

When she climbed into the car, the hair tie had already been yanked off without hesitation. Now her black hair lay in disheveled strands across her shoulders, tousled by the wind in a way that carried a swaying, desolate beauty.

“I just feel like…” Xia Lai racked her brains, searching for the right word. “You seem pretty happy.”

But that didn’t feel quite right either.

“Am I?” Fu Tingli didn’t think so. She let out a sigh into the wind. “Actually, it’s pretty boring.”

“What’s boring?” Xia Lai asked.

“You know, greeting all those people, seeing the surprised looks on their faces. It’s just like one of those clichéd plotlines you see in movies all the time.”

Fu Tingli tapped idly on the car door.

“But it’s not as fun as I imagined. Anyway, they’re people I’ll probably never see again.”

She finished speaking, then turned her head to look at Xia Lai and smiled softly. “But your mission’s accomplished, right?”

“It is.” She stared at the smile on Fu Tingli’s face, coming to a vague conclusion. “I suppose?”

It was probably the uncertain tone of her counter-question. Fu Tingli’s smile deepened at the corners of her mouth. She even raised her hand excitedly, feeling the rushing air flow past.

“Driving makes me happy, though.”

“Want to loop around a few more times? There’s an unlimited speed section up ahead,” Xia Lai offered proactively.

She could tell Fu Tingli really loved this car. Her eyes lit up whenever she touched the steering wheel.

At first, Xia Lai had thought she was just here to keep a grumpy young lady company. Now she realized she had underestimated the situation.

No matter if this woman was happy or aggrieved, it all stemmed from whatever was right in front of her—from the people right in front of her.

But Fu Tingli smiled softly and said, “Nah, it’s not mine anyway.”

“Getting to drive it for this stretch has already made me pretty happy.”

The road stretched on, the car lights flickering dimly. Fu Tingli’s face was half-hidden in the hazy glow and shadow, her expression indistinct.

In a daze, Xia Lai heard the words that followed: “If I get any happier, I might not want to let go.”

In that moment, she finally knew how to describe the quality this woman possessed: candid and clear-headed, like a cluster of flame burning just before dawn. Though sometimes, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

~~~

It had been a long time since she’d driven, so Fu Tingli’s hands felt a little rusty. But she still got a thrill out of following the car that had pulled up in front of her.

Ever since returning from California, she had come to understand that everything in the world—people or things—came with an expiration date.

You couldn’t see that deadline in everyday life, but when it arrived, it often brought aftereffects of devastating power.

Just like the cars she had sold. She used to think they belonged to her alone. Yet now, the mere touch of the steering wheel again made her fingers tremble.

This was probably one form of those aftereffects.

After driving to the endpoint Xia Lai had mentioned, Fu Tingli felt some of the pent-up frustration in her stomach dissipate. But in its place rose something new and indefinable, impossible to grasp or predict.

She turned off the radio, killed the engine, unbuckled her seatbelt, and let her fingers linger on the steering wheel, caressing it lightly.

After a long moment, she asked Xia Lai cautiously, “Let me ask you one more time—your boss really isn’t my mom, right?”

Xia Lai paused in the middle of unbuckling her own seatbelt. “Might I ask what your mother’s surname is, Miss Fu?”

Fu Tingli slumped her head onto the steering wheel and turned it sideways, gazing at Xia Lai with a somewhat pitiful expression. “You might think it’s Qiao?”

Xia Lai looked at her, silent for a beat, then shook her head. “Sorry, but as far as I know, my boss’s surname is Kong.”

She added cautiously, “Not sure if your mom ever changed hers?”

Fu Tingli sighed, lifting her heavy head from the steering wheel. She began unbuckling her seatbelt with a resigned air.

“Got it. Thanks anyway.”

“No need to thank me,” Xia Lai said. But after Fu Tingli got out, she hesitated and called after her.

“Miss Fu, actually, my job tonight wasn’t what you thought it was.”

Fu Tingli turned back, puzzled. “What?”

“You forgot your gloves.” Xia Lai got out of the car and handed the gloves she’d left behind right to her, explaining earnestly.

“And I didn’t clarify on the drive over. I think you misunderstood what my temp gig tonight was about.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“No, not really.” Xia Lai shook her head. “Before I came, my cousin gave me the rundown. She said I look tough and mouthy, and that at least if I sat next to you, I’d come off like a bodyguard. If anyone talked smack about you, I’d shut them down.

“At first, when my cousin told me, I even binged those movie scenes about slapping faces and stealing the show. But I didn’t get the chance, and after meeting the boss, she didn’t even want me to act any of that out in real life…”

She let out a laugh. “What you said in the car was pretty cute, though. Anyway, all in all, getting to know you has been a real pleasure.”

“As for the boss, she just told me to drive the car over. Nothing about what came after.”

By the time Xia Lai finished, Fu Tingli still hadn’t fully processed it. “That’s it? Just that?”

“Yeah. I even asked her if that was all, and she said yeah, that was enough…” Xia Lai seemed to be recalling her boss’s tone, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she added,

“She’ll understand.”

The lights were dim now; they had pulled into a private garage.

Warm air hummed from the vents overhead in the enclosed space, flowing over them like a slow tide.

Fu Tingli looked at Xia Lai’s earnest expression and could almost see Kong Liyuan standing right there in front of her.

Lurking in the dim light, lazily exhaling a puff of white mist, then smiling at her—not too lightly, not too heavily.

“Got it,” Fu Tingli said softly. She took the gloves from Xia Lai’s hand and asked,

“Where’s your boss?”

Xia Lai glanced around, then pointed behind her, a bit confused. “She’s probably upstairs? I’m not totally sure.”

Fu Tingli looked over and realized there was an elevator right behind her. The number displayed above it was 3.

She stared at it calmly for a moment, then finally pressed the call button. The up arrow lit up abruptly, glowing with an eerie red light.

After bidding Xia Lai goodbye, she stepped silently into the elevator. It rose slowly, like a vertical tunnel rushing downward in reverse, with flecks of red light flickering within.

She kept her head lowered, watching the blurry edges of the red glow, her thoughts muddled:

So the true endpoint of this road really was Kong Liyuan after all.