Chapter 7

Tong Yehui was driving aimlessly through the streets, not really knowing where to go. Returning home was merely a pretense to appease Du Cheng, who at least had a home to return to, a place filled with both the elderly and children. In contrast, his own home was just a room. He had never felt much about it before and had never worried about feelings of loneliness or solitude; he truly enjoyed the tranquility of being alone. However, today he felt a sense of fear, afraid that the emptiness of the house would suffocate him. He had never felt much about it before and had never worried about feelings of loneliness or solitude; he truly enjoyed the tranquility of being alone. However, today he felt a sense of fear, afraid that the emptiness of the house would suffocate him.

Tong Yehui's office door had been closed all day. Several senior executives from the company approached the door with documents, only to be sent back by Deng Hui. By the afternoon, it finally caught the attention of Du Cheng, the only person Deng Hui dared not stop in this office building.

Tong Yehui looked over with a cold gaze, and after a moment of thought, he replied, "Going home"

Tong Yehui lowered his head to look at the ground beneath his feet, and after a moment, he sluggishly raised his head. He looked into Du Cheng's eyes, which were bloodshot, and his expression was one of a neurotic daze. Du Cheng was taken aback and asked again, "What happened? What is wrong with you?"

Upon arriving at the office, before I had the chance to set down my briefcase, Deng Hui entered through the door behind me. Holding an envelope in his hand, he stood behind Tong Yehui, hesitating to speak. Tong Yehui casually placed the briefcase on the desk and turned around to look at him with a puzzled expression, sensing that there might be an urgent matter this early in the morning, and he waited for Deng Hui to speak up

At that time, Han Sheng's presence always annoyed him. She was quite overweight, had a loud voice, and would seize every opportunity to boast to the neighbors, "This is my man." She was vulgar, lacked depth, and had no femininity whatsoever. Yet, she would wait for him to come home, wash his clothes, cook, and tidy up the house. She would genuinely treat him like her own man. But at that time, he looked down on her. Why did he find everything about her so displeasing? In fact, during that period, he often stayed out all night and was already involved with someone else. Han Sheng must have known, right? Night after night, she kept the door for him, waiting for his return with a smile, asking nothing. Yet she would wait for him to come home, wash his clothes, cook, and tidy up the house, treating him like her own man. But at that time, he looked down on her. Why did he find everything about her so displeasing? In fact, during that period, he often stayed out all night and was already involved with someone else. Han Sheng must have known, right? Night after night, she kept the door for him, waiting for his return with a smile, asking nothing. In truth, Han Sheng was not completely foolish, thought Tong Yehui.

Deng Hui carefully placed Tong Yehui onto his office chair, ensuring he was settled. Upon observing him, it was evident that Tong Yehui's gaze was fixed on a single point, his expression devoid of life, his eyes staring blankly as if lacking focus. Deng Hui felt a sense of fear as he looked at him.

At this moment, Tong Yehui seemed to be much calmer than before; when he stood up to walk out, he even remembered to take the briefcase he had placed on his desk.

Du Chengshi felt somewhat uneasy about Tong Yehui. The person was still the same, but his eyes had lost their luster, and he exuded an air of despondency and defeat. Du Chengshi opened his mouth, intending to invite him to return home with him, but then reconsidered. He thought that the two of them together would only end up sitting in silence like they did in the afternoon, and at this moment, their gathering would only lead them to dwell on their regrets, reflecting on the sins they had committed together against their shared past.

Du Cheng paused for a moment while holding the car door of Tong Yehui, and finally helped him close the door. Through the car window, he advised him: "Take care of yourself, there are still matters regarding Huan Sheng's funeral that need to be handled." Tong Yehui nodded, lowered his head to start the ignition, and drove off first.

What?! Du Cheng could not believe it and staggered back a step, his body uncontrollably falling into the chair behind him

However, it is regrettable that death has occurred. When you receive the news of the passing of someone you once knew well, those memories that are usually tucked away in the corners suddenly resurface, as if rummaging through forgotten fragments.

Tong Yehui seemed not to recognize Du Cheng at all; he stared at him for a long time before casually saying, "Regrettably, life has passed away."

When Du Cheng entered, Tong Yehui was sitting behind the desk with the light behind him, looking seemingly no different from usual. However, for some reason, he felt as if the entire room was like a stagnant pool, the air seemed to be sluggish and difficult to flow. He walked slowly to Tong Yehui's side, looking at him across the desk and asked, "What’s wrong with you?"

No matter how much turmoil one feels inside, the entire world will not cease to function because of a single individual. They are all men, upright and straight-backed men, living along similar trajectories. When night falls and the sky is completely shrouded in darkness, Du Cheng is the first to stand up. He casually turns on the desk lamp beside him and says to Tong Yehui, "Let's go." At such a moment, he finds it difficult to say anything to Tong Yehui. They have both committed a crime against the same person, but Tong Yehui's transgression is far more serious than his own. At this moment, Du Cheng is uncertain whether he should feel a small sense of relief regarding this matter.

Tong Yehui found himself caught in the traffic of City B, aimlessly. He deliberately rolled down the car window to the lowest setting, allowing the scorching air to blow directly onto him, while the lively sounds of cars and people filled his ears, making him feel somewhat better.

In his childhood, handing him an ice pop, the smiling Han Sheng who sought to please him, at the night market, Han Sheng, with a face full of sweat, shouting loudly, stole the savings book and generously said to them: "Take it." That silly Han Sheng, and the Han Sheng who bowed his head in confession during the final trial.

Scenes flashed by like a revolving lantern, slipping past before his eyes. The memories of Han Sheng that Du Cheng could now recall seemed to be all about her good qualities. The perspective from which he stood was different, and his feelings towards her back then were completely different as well. He couldn't help but think, if he could return to over a decade ago with his current experiences and wisdom, how could he have ever disliked someone like Han Sheng? She was merely a child yearning to be loved and noticed. Lowering his head, he suddenly realized that tears were streaming down his face. Having lived to this point, seemingly impervious to harm, it appeared he had lost his tear ducts, yet he still found himself crying. Du Cheng felt somewhat bewildered, but it only deepened his sadness. How could Han Sheng have died? How could she have died?

Deng Hui watched as Tong Yehui's body began to slide down, and quickly moved forward to support him from behind, attempting to pull him up, but was unable to do so.

Tong Yehui parked the car under a building, where the window on the fourth floor was still lit. The dim yellow light filtered through the sheer curtain, creating a stifling warmth in the summer, reminiscent of the feelings he had when he lived in that apartment years ago

Suddenly, Tong Yehui leaned over the table, staring with bloodshot eyes at Du Cheng, and hoarsely uttered, word by word: "Han Sheng has died; the plane she was on crashed into the Pacific Ocean. I personally saw her board that plane, I watched her get on it myself." Tong Yehui, filled with a neurotic hatred, tore at his voice, unsure whether he was speaking to himself or to Du Cheng.

Two people stood by their cars in the parking lot. Tong Yehui had been walking down from the building with his head lowered and remained silent. Du Cheng, seeing him not saying a word, opened the car door and was about to get in, but he worriedly stopped him from closing the door, asking, "Where are you going?"

Tong Yehui sat in the office for an entire day, behind him was a large floor-to-ceiling window, sunlight sliding from his left shoulder to his right shoulder, allowing him to truly feel the passage of time beside him. The letter sent by the airline twisted and shredded in his hands, filled with apologies, regrets, sorrow, and mourning. Who is apologizing, who is regretting, who is mourning? A piece of light paper brings the weight of a life lost.

After a long time, Tong Yehui quietly instructed Deng Hui: "You go out, close the door, and no one is allowed to come in." Deng Hui responded with an acknowledgment and gently closed the door as he walked out

Deng Hui spoke in a daze, while Tong Yehui stood there listening in a daze. After a moment of silence following Deng Hui's words, he suddenly took a step forward, as if something had been drawn out of his body. He found it somewhat difficult to stand and had to reach out to support himself against the table. He gasped for breath, his throat tearing, opening his mouth but unable to make a sound, falling completely silent.

Deng Hui's expression was marked by a heavy complexity as he gently placed the exquisite white envelope in front of Tong Yehui: "A week ago, this letter was sent by the Canadian airline while you were in Europe. I thought it was a personal matter, so I took the liberty of holding onto it, intending to wait for your return to decide what to do with it."

Tong Yehui's Cayenne finally stopped in a residential community. This community was built several years ago and is not well-planned, with average greenery facilities. It now appears to be a mid-range community. Many years have passed, and the buildings here no longer shine as they once did. Tong Yehui's first property in life was purchased in this community. At the time he owned his first house, he was just over twenty years old. He cohabited with Han Sheng here for two years, and after Han Sheng was imprisoned, he quickly sold the property.

Tong Yehui buried his face in the arms resting on the steering wheel, and after a long time, a low voice emerged from his lips: "Regretful life." It was a whisper at the edge of his lips, imbued with boundless emotion. "Regretful life, in the end, you still took revenge on me." A bitter smile appeared at the corner of Tong Yehui's mouth

After landing at midnight, Tong Yehui did not need to adjust to the time difference and arrived at the company on time the next day. He places the utmost importance on the business he has painstakingly built, even approaching it with a sense of reverence. He would never casually arrive late or leave early simply because he is the boss

Du Cheng opened his mouth, then closed it again, ultimately falling into silence. A profound, unexpressed emotion enveloped the two of them as they sat facing each other. Was it guilt? It seemed to evoke a deeper sense of wrongdoing. Was it regret? It appeared to instill an even greater sense of emptiness.

The letter states that two weeks ago, one of their airline's planes returning from City B crashed over the Pacific Ocean, and Ms. Mo Huan Sheng's name was on the passenger list. Since I booked the ticket in the name of the company, the airline has sent a letter requesting our assistance in contacting her family.

When Tong Yehui heard the name of Air Canada, a sudden, sharp pain shot through a vein on his forehead without warning. He looked at the envelope in front of him, hesitating to reach out and touch it.

For many years, Du Cheng did not allow himself to think about Han Sheng, as it would evoke feelings of guilt within him. The human brain has a self-protective mechanism; it does not retain memories that are of no use to you. In fact, Du Cheng did not remember much about the past concerning Han Sheng.

At present, Tong Yehui cannot be said to feel regret, nor can he be said to feel sadness. He is trapped in an endless emotional state, inexplicably drained of all vitality. He senses a vast emptiness; his aimless driving is an attempt to find something in this enormous city, yet he does not know what exactly he is searching for. Perhaps he does know, but what he truly seeks can no longer be found.

Han Sheng has left, and he provided her with enough money. Tong Yehui felt that they had settled their accounts, and he believed that his life had completely returned to normal. The two-week trip to Europe did not show any signs of fatigue on him; he remained the same robust man, with a slightly ascetic seriousness in his expression, impeccably dressed and moving with an undeniable elegance.