Ji Shuhe pursed her lips. This Wen Shaoyu—when it came to him and Shen Xing, who was bullying whom was anyone's guess.
Seeing that Ji Shuhe had fallen silent, Wen Shaoyu deliberated before finally broaching the most unavoidable topic: "Your mother... is she alone in the UK now?"
Ji Shuhe was slightly taken aback. She thought Wen Shaoyu would ask about the relationship between Shen Xing and her family, but instead he asked about Xia Chun.
How should she answer?
Ji Shuhe found it hard to speak. She knew too well that Xia Chun, her mother, had left unpleasant memories for everyone in Xinhai, including Wen Shaoyu.
And as mother and daughter, ever since the separation eight years ago—which was practically a trick—an irreparable rift had formed between them.
She chose to live in a dorm during college, and after work, she rented a small apartment on her own.
She wanted to escape Xia Chun. Being around her felt suffocating. Moreover, now Xia Chun had the person she truly loved by her side—the man she had pursued for half her life. Ji Shuhe had once thought that would make Xia Chun let go of her possessiveness and obsession.
Until Xia Chun found out she was returning to China, to Xinhai. That hysterical state, that attempt to control Ji Shuhe's choices through blood ties and the debt of upbringing, made Ji Shuhe realize once again...
Xia Chun was still Xia Chun.
Xinhai would always be her sore spot, and her marriage to Ji Xiangjiang she regarded as... a disgrace.
Ji Shuhe let out an inadvertent sigh, trying to dispel the invisible pressure from her mother. Her voice was very soft: "When my mom and I first arrived in the UK, we lived in Manchester. Later, she met her first love. They were both single by then, so they naturally got together. Later, because of my studies, I needed to go to London, so we all moved there."
"She occasionally goes to Manchester to visit my grandparents." She finished and glanced up at Wen Shaoyu, then added quietly, "Don't worry, she won't come back to China, let alone Xinhai."
"Why do you say that?"
It happened to be a red light. Wen Shaoyu slowly braked, and as the car came to a stop, he turned to face Ji Shuhe squarely. "Has... someone asked you that before?"
He paused, his tone already certain: "Your father, right?"
Ji Shuhe bit her lip and said nothing.
She really hated dealing with people who were too perceptive. Wen Shaoyu hadn't even been at that gathering, yet based on one sentence, he had connected everything so accurately that she had no choice but to admit it, without even an excuse.
She sighed again: "I can understand..."
"Why do you have to understand?"
Wen Shaoyu cut her off abruptly, his tone restrained with barely contained anger: "Their decisions hurt you. Why should you have to understand? Just because you're their daughter?"
"Ji Shuhe, you're still the same as before."
Ji Shuhe's eyes widened slightly. In the cramped car, his words were like a drop of water hitting a lake, spreading uncontrollable ripples.
"...What did I do now?" Ji Shuhe muttered softly.
Actually, it was best to stay silent at this moment, but facing Wen Shaoyu, she couldn't help it.
Before, now.
It was as if she instinctively knew that even if she angered Wen Shaoyu, he wouldn't do anything to her.
She hadn't realized it, but she had always been different with Wen Shaoyu.
Wen Shaoyu's peach blossom eyes lowered, his long lashes casting a small shadow under his eyes from the green traffic light ahead.
The light turned green. He withdrew his gaze and pressed the accelerator again, his tone flat: "A few years gone, and the courage you barely grew has shrunk back again."
...That made her sound like a rabbit. But she wasn't.
Ji Shuhe puffed out her cheeks and exhaled softly.
Fine, she couldn't completely deny it.
She just couldn't put herself first. She always wanted a dignified solution everyone could accept, or to maintain superficial harmony, even if it meant making more concessions.
She knew her own problem, of course. Wen Shaoyu had told her long ago.
So Ji Shuhe didn't say anything more, and Wen Shaoyu, uncharacteristically considerate, didn't press. In the sudden silence, neither knew what the other was thinking.
It was nearing rush hour. Traffic heading out of the city center was heavier. After being stuck on the elevated road for a while, they finally reached the exit ramp.
The scenery outside was unfamiliar, yet similar to most views of home in this city. Taller residential buildings rising up, and the flickering lights from countless windows.
About five minutes after getting off the elevated road, they turned at the intersection into the neighborhood where Ji Shulang lived with Grandma Ji and his parents. It was a resettlement community with high population density and a large proportion of shared public space, but it had the advantage of complete surrounding amenities.
Wen Shaoyu parked outside the neighborhood, and he and Ji Shuhe went to a nearby supermarket to buy fruit and gifts. After shopping, Ji Shuhe didn't want to circle back to the car, so she suggested they walk in.
Wen Shaoyu, laden with bags full of goods, looked at Ji Shuhe with suspicion, but eventually yielded to her determined gaze. He sighed helplessly and led the way ahead.
At the main gate of the neighborhood, big red lanterns from New Year's still hung, their tassels swaying in the evening breeze. The security guard at the gate was an acquaintance of Wen Shaoyu, and upon seeing him from a distance, he poked his head out of the booth to greet them.
By the time they finished the brief exchange, the sky had darkened completely. Streetlights in the neighborhood gradually lit up, and most of the passersby were young people hurrying home for dinner.
Ji Shuhe had only been here twice. As darkness fell, the scene in front of her didn't match her daytime memories at all. Several similar-looking high-rises stood in the dark, and she had no idea which way to go.
Fortunately, Wen Shaoyu was there.
He was right beside her, real, within her line of sight.
Ji Shuhe unconsciously slowed down, letting a small gap open between them. Her gaze fell on Wen Shaoyu's shadow on the ground. Her fingers twitched slightly, as if wanting to touch that vague silhouette.
At this moment, reality overlapped with the past—Yong'anli eight years ago and the present eight years later.
Her fingertips inched forward, almost touching the shoulder line of the shadow, when the person ahead suddenly stopped, as if he had eyes in the back of his head.
Startled, Ji Shuhe quickly withdrew her hand and hid it behind her back. Wen Shaoyu had already turned to face her, the entrance of the building unit right behind him.
"Aren't we going up?" Ji Shuhe blinked guiltily.
Wen Shaoyu raised his hands, indicating the bags he was carrying: "Waiting for Miss Ji to ring the doorbell."
Ji Shuhe's face flushed hot. She hurried up the steps and reached out to press the digital doorbell, but suddenly froze. She didn't even remember what floor they lived on.
Wen Shaoyu's voice came from behind: "Asterisk 12, zero three, pound sign."
...Damn it.
Inside the building, they got into the elevator. Ji Shuhe pressed the button for the 12th floor and finally let out a long breath.
She almost naively thought that the day's anxiety and maneuvering could finally come to an end. She didn't realize that since the elevator doors had slowly closed, this enclosed, narrow space now contained only her and Wen Shaoyu, becoming another kind of inescapable trap.
"Ji Shuhe." Wen Shaoyu suddenly spoke. His deep voice was unusually clear in the quiet elevator. He stepped forward, unobtrusively blocking the door. "You rang the doorbell. You got in the elevator. It seems you won't have an excuse to run away now."
He turned around, his eyes locking onto her: "I have one last question for today."
"After the shoot ends, are you planning to go back?"