Tang Yan sat on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest, her tears dried up from crying too hard. Her eyes burned with a raw, aching sting, and it felt like her soul had been completely drained. She had no strength left.
Her phone, lying nearby on the floor, suddenly lit up with a call. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the screen—it was Sister Peiwen. Tang Yan paused, sniffled, wiped away her tears, and finally picked it up.
She was just about to ask what was going on when Peiwen’s anxious voice came through first, “What happened to Yuqing? I got to the office early this morning and HR told me she resigned. What’s going on?”
Tang Yan ran a hand through her hair, her heart tangled in pain and confusion. “I don’t know. She said… she was leaving.” Her voice was weak, but the struggle beneath it was clear.
“You’re home right now, right? I’m coming over,” Peiwen said, and hung up quickly. She requested time off from HR and sped over without another word.
By the time the doorbell rang, Tang Yan was still in a daze. It kept ringing, again and again, until she slowly dragged herself up and trudged to the door.
Peiwen was standing outside. She was just about to scold Tang Yan for taking so long to answer, but the moment she saw her friend’s haggard face, her anger vanished. “You… can you tell me what happened between you two?”
Tang Yan turned without a word and walked inside. Peiwen followed naturally, switching into house slippers at the entry.
Once they were both in the living room, Tang Yan didn’t feel like explaining anything. She simply handed Peiwen the letter Aunt Ji had left on the table and sat silently on the couch.
Peiwen read it, standing there. After finishing, she seemed to understand the situation and sighed. “This really is just like her. It fits her personality.”
“It shouldn’t have ended like this. If I’d known she was going to leave me, I would’ve just held back last night,” Tang Yan said, full of regret.
“What’s done is done. Regret won’t help now. Have you tried calling her?” Peiwen asked.
“I did. So many times. But I can’t get through.” Tang Yan was growing frantic and helpless.
Peiwen sat down next to her. “At the very least, now you have an answer. She did care about you.”
“But what’s the use of that? She’s gone.”
“She left because she didn’t want to hold you back. She’s thinking way ahead of us,” Peiwen said gently, trying to calm her.
“What’s the point of a future if she’s not in it? I can’t do anything without her,” Tang Yan said miserably.
“No, don’t say that. If you give up now, then everything she did will be for nothing. And if you want to be with her again, don’t you need to become someone worthy of catching up to her?”
Tang Yan fell silent, deep in thought.
“If you really love her, focus on your studies for now. I believe she’s still watching over you from somewhere. Don’t let her down, okay?” Peiwen said, giving her shoulder a light pat.
Tang Yan looked up with teary eyes. “You really think so?”
Peiwen nodded firmly. No matter what, she believed Yuqing wouldn’t want Tang Yan to spiral like this. First, they had to get her back on her feet.
Tang Yan clenched her teeth. “If you hear anything about Aunt Ji, promise me you’ll let me know. I still want to find her.”
Peiwen nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ve always been on your side. If I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
Only then did Tang Yan’s expression ease a little. At least there was still a sliver of hope.
Peiwen skipped work that day to stay with her. They went shopping, saw a movie, grabbed something to eat. Tang Yan was thankful. Even though those things helped distract her for a while, the moment everything quieted down, her thoughts would go right back to Aunt Ji.
“Thanks, Peiwen. For staying with me all day.”
At her door, Peiwen leaned out of the car window. “Get inside, take a hot shower, get some sleep, and forget about the sad stuff. Life keeps moving forward. Three years will pass in the blink of an eye.”
Tang Yan nodded and waved goodbye. As soon as she turned around and walked in, the smile on her face disappeared, and she returned to that empty shell of a person. The house felt unbearably quiet, oppressive even. She couldn’t breathe.
She had no energy left to shower, but after sweating all day while shopping, she forced her exhausted body into the bathroom. Under the cold shower, she broke down again. The icy water mixed with her tears as they streamed down her face. Some made their way into her mouth—salty, bitter.
Afterward, she crawled into bed with the air conditioning turned way down, wrapping herself tightly in the blankets like a cocoon. Only that kind of enclosed space could help her feel less empty.
Just sleep. If I fall asleep, maybe it won’t hurt so much.
That night, she dreamed of Aunt Ji again. Just like always, Aunt Ji took her shopping, bought her pretty clothes. Everything felt warm and happy—so perfect that she didn’t want to wake up.
In the morning, after washing up, Tang Yan walked to the kitchen and instinctively made two portions of breakfast. She set them on the table and called for Aunt Ji to wake up. Only when no one answered did she remember—Aunt Ji had left yesterday. So she sat alone, eating breakfast across from an empty chair, chewing mechanically with no appetite.
After tidying up, she felt completely lost. Then her eyes fell on the letter again. Remembering Aunt Ji’s and Peiwen’s words, she sprang up, grabbed her books, and started studying. She watched computer science videos online, took notes, practiced coding. Time passed without her realizing it.
Before school started, Tang Yan visited the island where Aunt Ji had first taken her on vacation, hoping she might be there. But the homestay owner said she hadn’t shown up. So Tang Yan returned to Huadu alone. The world was so big—finding one person was like finding a needle in a haystack.
When the semester started, sophomore year was even busier. Her days were packed from morning to night. Even when she returned to the dorm exhausted, she still messaged Aunt Ji every day—summarizing her day, her thoughts, and ending with: I miss you so much.
“Hey, have you noticed? Tang Yan’s even more hardcore this semester.”
“Seriously. She’s studying like her life depends on it. It’s terrifying.”
“Well, that’s how she became top of the class. The rest of us need to catch up.”
“…”
“Hey, Tang Yan, why didn’t your Aunt Ji come pick you up this time?”
Tang Yan forced a smile. “She’s busy with work. I can go back on my own.”
Every weekend for a few weeks, Tang Yan took nearly a three-hour bus ride to visit Aunt Ji’s mother at Qingshan Nursing Home. She would spend the whole day there, hoping—just maybe—that Aunt Ji might show up. But she never did. As dusk fell, Tang Yan would comfort herself: Maybe next time. Maybe I’ll see her next time.
October arrived quickly, bringing the National Day holiday. Tang Yan had just packed fruits and snacks when she spotted a car parked outside her building. Peiwen got out.
“I’ll take you today. Watching you take six hours round trip by bus and transferring in between every time—it’s just too tiring.”
“Thank you, Peiwen.”
“Oh please, don’t thank me. We’re friends.” Peiwen smiled as she helped load Tang Yan’s bags into the trunk.
The drive was much faster—less than two hours thanks to the highway and zero traffic. No motion sickness either. Tang Yan had always chosen the bus just to save money; a cab ride back and forth cost over two hundred yuan.
“How’s school been lately?” Peiwen asked as she drove.
“There’s a lot more coursework now. Every day is packed. I’m really busy, really tired, but also… fulfilled.” Tang Yan replied. Her tone was noticeably calmer and more grounded.
“That’s good. Staying busy helps you forget things for a while,” Peiwen said.
But when they arrived at the nursing home, something unexpected happened. Tang Yan didn’t see Aunt Ji again. Instead, the staff told her that the old lady had been transferred to another facility. When they asked where, the staff only vaguely replied—it might have been a retirement home in Switzerland.
Switzerland.
It sounded so close, but felt impossibly far. Aunt Ji must’ve come—no one else could’ve arranged it. Yet she never showed her face to Tang Yan.
Maybe Aunt Ji had gone to Switzerland to be with her mother. The medical care there would be much better, the environment more comfortable. Peiwen couldn’t bear to see Tang Yan heartbroken and suggested they fly to Switzerland to find her, but Tang Yan shook her head.
“What would that accomplish? If Aunt Ji doesn’t want to see me, it won’t matter how hard I look. Even if I search every corner of Switzerland, maybe she’s not even there anymore. The world is so big—I can’t go country by country chasing her. Reality just won’t allow it.”
She wasn’t wrong. Peiwen understood. And seeing how decisively Yuqing had left this time, they both knew—it wouldn’t be that easy to find her again.