Chapter 1 - The Winter Seaside Town

  The sky was overcast, and Yi Leng sat in the Human Resources office at Jiangdong Polyteiiversity, his heart as cold as the weather outside. The faces of the staff became blurred, their voices floating like whispers in the farthest reaches of the sky.

  “It’s been over half a year… Teacher Xiang Mo passed away in a car act after resigning… the mother and daughter were both beyond saving… the school won’t take any responsibility, but from a humanitarian perspective…” Yi Leng didn’t listen to the rest. He stood up stiffly, walked out, and stepped into the first icy rain of the winter.

  He remembered when he first met Xiang Mo. Friends gathered at a KTV to sing, and he received loud boos for his off-key rendition of "Ice Rain." Xiang Mo ughed so hard she almost fell over, her delicate body trembling with ughter. Later, Xiang Mo found out that Yi Leng could actually sing quite well; he had only performed poorly to break the id ease the awkward atmosphere.

  “You’re a natural at ag like a sdrel,” Xiang Mo said, lying in Yi Leng's arms, her delicate firag circles on his chest. This had happened a month after they first met.

  Undeniably, Yi Leng was a man of great charm. He had a well-defined face, was tall, and possessed a high IQ. He could have entered Peking Uy or Tsinghua Uy with his academic achievements, but he ecially recruited by the Near Jiang Iional Retions Academy, taking on the insignia of an army officer. He joihe intelligence agency befraduation, spending most of his time on overseas missions. He rarely returo the try, initially intending to rex and be a heartless sdrel. But this time, he found himself falling for Xiang Mo.

  At the time, Xiang Mo was still studying for her master’s at the Polyteic, a meticulous and serious sce student who never imagined falling so quickly into love. They married because of an unpnned pregnancy, and Yi Leng received a reprimand for it. Xiang Mo cut ties with her family, but both felt it was worth it. Finding a soulmate was not easy in this lifetime.

  Due to work, their married life was filled with more separation than togetherness. Yi Leng was often on overseas assigs, disappearing for months at a time. But their small life was sweet as honey, especially when he saw their daughter begin to speak and walk. He was surrounded by an overwhelming sense of happiness.

  Then, when their daughter turen, Yi Leng was captured during a secret mission overseas. He was first imprisoned in Guantanamo aransferred to an isnd prison in the South Pacific. After four years of captivity, his longing for his wife and daughter was the only thing keeping him alive.

  After esg, he was rescued by a Panama-fgged freighter. He drifted at sea for two months before finally nding at Jiangwei Port. He snuto the port’s trud returo the Near Jiang family home, only to find it occupied by strangers. He theo his wife’s workpce for answers.

  After enduring four years of suffering, the only thing waiting for him was the tragiews of the loss of his family. Evero man couldn’t withstand such a blow. Before he realized it, the icy rain turo snow, and Yi Leng reached the pza at the South Station of Jiangjiang High-Speed Rail. Four years ago, Xiang Mo had beeo see him off with their daughter, never imagining it would be their final farewell.

  Yi Leng sat quietly on a ben the pza. Snowfkes fell on him, melting into cold water that soaked his clothes, but he didn’t feel the cold. His heart had already frozen.

  Tonight, he wao spend time with his wife and daughter, even if it meant in the cold of a cemetery. He walked to a nearby venieore to use the phoo call the Human Resources office at the Polyteic, asking where Xiang Mo and their daughter had been buried.

  “Is this the gentleman who came this afternoon? Apologies, our colleague didn’t have all the information. Teacher Xiang’s daughter was resuscitated and released from the hospital, taken by retives. As for Teacher Xiang’s body, it was donated acc to her wishes. We don’t know the details.”

  “Warm Warm is still alive!” Yi Leng’s froze suddenly burned with hope.

  He hung up, rubbing his hands together, feeling a pang of hunger. In fact, he haden anything for forty-eight hours since disembarking from the freighter. Hungry and weak, he bought a loaf of bread and a bottle of water from the store auro the bench for a makeshift meal.

  Just then, an Alphard minivan passed through the pza, and the girl inside caught a glimpse of Yi Leng, dev his food. A man, seemingly weathered by life, sat alone in the snow, eating bread, his body covered in snowfkes. He had clearly been sitting in the snow for a long time. Occasionally, he raised his hand to wipe his eyes, perhaps on the verge of tears. Though men don’t cry easily, this man had clearly faced his greatest hardships, yet he remairong, fighting to live. The girl felt her heart heavy, as if struck by a hammer, clutg her chest in pain.

  “Ali, how do you feel?” asked the ed woman beside her.

  “This heart really suits me,” the girl, who had received a heart transpnt six months ago, smiled. She couldn’t help but feel a sudden pang of sadness. Turning back, she noticed the man on the bench was gone.

  “Home is better. The wait’s so much shorter here. If this were in the US, who knows how long we’d have to wait…” Her mother tio ramble.

  Yi Leng stood iicket hall. Four years had ged so much. The gss window reflected his face, but it wasn’t Yi Leng’s faymore.

  It was a stranger’s face, altered by etic surgery. Even his own parents might nnize him, let alone his daughter.

  Yi Leng smiled bitterly. The current difficulty was that buying a ticket required an ID card or passport, but he had nothing to prove his identity.

  Now, he was an individual without nationality, a stateless person. Due to his failed mission and long impriso, he couldn’t eveurn to his anization. He knew well what his fate would be: endless interrogation, and possibly beily executed as a traitor. He had grown weary of it all. The only thing he wanted now was to see his daughter.

  As a field agent, small issues like this couldn’t stop him. He easily swiped a station worker’s magic card aered the station, b the st train to Jiangwei.

  High-speed trains were fast. Three hours ter, Yi Leng arrived in Jiangwei. He noticed an elderly man with a lot of luggage and helped him carry it. After getting off the train, Yi Leng discreetly followed the man through the exit and mao get into the man’s family’s private car, which took him into the city.

  Jiangwei Shipyard was Xiang Mo’s hometown, a beautiful coastal city. Yi Leng had never visited his in-ws’ house, but the address was engraved in his mind: Shipyard New Vilge, Building 17, Unit 3, Apartment 202. It was also the address on Xiang Mo’s ID card. The building was old, built in the 1980s, and might have been demolished by now.

  In the dead of night, with snowfkes falling and few people oreets, Yi Leng put on his hoodie and found Xiang Mo’s old home. It was an old building from the 1980s, and just beyond the wall was the Jiangwei Shipyard.

  From a distance, Yi Leng saw the light still shining from the window of Apartment 202. The pink curtains had cartoon Pikachu designs, perhaps where Xiang Mo had lived as a child. Maybe his daughter was behind that windht now. He loo kno the door, tell his in-ws, and tell his daughter that he had e back.

  But he couldn’t afford to act recklessly. His in-ws didn’t know his true occupation, and his daughter wouldn’t reize this face, altered by surgery. More importantly, his identity would bring deadly dao his family.

  Fourteen-year-old Yi Nuannuan was behind the Pikachu curtain, her diary spread out under an old desk mp that had beloo her mother. She was rec the worries of a teenage girl.

  She was a traudent in the sed year of junih at Jiangwei Experimental No. 2 Middle School. Growing up in a single-parent household had left her with a sense of insecurity. After her mother’s death in the car act, Yi Nuannuan moved to Jiao live with her grandparents. She had poor eyesight, slightly crooked teeth, and hearing problems due to the act. She had been an excellent student, but after losing her parents, her emotions plummeted, and so did her grades. The term “ugly dug” seemed tailor-made firl like Yi Nuannuan.

  In the diary hoto, a family portrait taken on Nuan Nuan’s tenth birthday. Her father was handsome, her mother beautiful, and she looked like a little princess. Nuan Nualy stroked the photo, tears falling from her eyes, her heart ag. How she wished to go back to that time—it erhaps the happiest and most fulfilling period of her life.

  Her grandmother pushed the door open and said loudly, "Nuan Nuan, don’t study too te. You o wake up early tomorrow. Don’t fet to take your lunch."

  "I know," replied Yi Nuan Nuan as she took the lunchbox from her schoolbag. She opehe windoced the lunchbox oi-theft , using it like a natural refrigerator. At that moment, she noticed someoanding in the distance, but didn’t pay it much attention. She closed the window after setting the lunchbox down.

  Ihan a sed, Yi Leng, standing far away, caught a glimpse of his daughter. Though he was too far to make out her features, his sixth seold him it was definitely his and Xiang Mo’s daughter, Yi Nuan Nuan.

  His daughter had grown up. Yi Leng tried hard to trol his emotions as he turned a. He had no home to return to. He was looking for a pce to spend the winter night when he suddenly noticed a restaurant still open oreet. The neon sign read: Yumei Restaurant.

  Yi Leng pushed aside the heavy cotton curtain. Ihe narrow restaurant were only fe tables. The proprietress was behind the ter, tallying the ats. Shelves lined with cigarettes and alcohol adorhe walls, and a statue of the God of Wealth stood nearby.

  “Sorry, the kit’s closed. We’re done for the night,” the proprietress said without raising her head. She was wearing a high-necked bck sweater that showed off her curvaceous figure.

  “I just got off the train. I’ll just have something hot, anything is fine,” Yi Leng said.

  “Alright, a bowl of pin noodles for ten yuan, I’ll make it for you,” the proprietress said as she put down her pen and headed to the kit.

  Yi Leng walked up to the ter and noticed a piece of A4 paper he inse burner in front of the God of Wealth. It read "Restaurant for Sale," the ink still not dry. The ats were messy, with many corres.

  Five mier, the proprietress brought out a bowl of noodles. The noodles were made with pre-made noodles, mixed with broth, a drizzle of sesame oil, and topped with finely chopped green onions. A boiled egg y on top, fragrant and appetizing.

  Yi Leng ate the noodles quickly, like a whirlwind, then patted his pockets. All he had left was a steel .

  The proprietress noticed his predit. Yi Leng had messy hair, old clothes, and a stubbled face—he looked disheveled.

  “You go. o pay,” she said.

  “Thank you. I’ll settle it tomorrow,” Yi Leng replied, thanking her as he was about to leave. Just then, five or six people entered, braving the cold wind. They were workers from a nearby shipyard, just off their te-night shift and ready for a snack.

  “Sorry, the kit’s closed,” the proprietress repeated.

  “Anything’s fihere must be some cold dishes, and bring another beer,” the leader of the workers said.

  The proprietress hesitated. It was clear she didn’t want to turn down a big order, but she was afraid her cooking might not be up to par. Just as she was uain, Yi Leng walked into the kit.

  “What are you doing?” the proprietress asked, following him.

  Yi Leng surveyed the small kit. It had everything needed—gas stoves, iron pots hanging on the wall. He tied on an apron, opehe fridge, and took out a whole chi, pg it on the chopping board. With a quick series of chops, he started boiling water, using the tap to cool the stove.

  “Don’t just stand there. Get some cucumbers, skin some tury eggs, and bring out some peanuts in vinegar. Open all the beers,” Yi Leng directed as he sliced ginger, garlid green onions. The gas stove burned hot and fast, bringing the water to a boil. The chi was bnched, and the oil in the pan crackled as he tossed the chi pieces, quickly adding dried chili, Si peppers, ginger, garlic, soy sauce, and cooking wihe fragrance filled the air as he added broth.

  The proprietress served the cold dishes to the workers, opehe beers, and chatted with them for a moment. Wheurhe chi was done. Yi Leng had it served in a cy pot with scallions, onions, tro, and celery, ready to be served.

  “Serve it up,” Yi Leng said, “We don’t have much time, so I skipped a few steps, but it’s alright. The ers won’t mind. With some dried tofu, noodles, mushrooms, and greens, they’ll be satisfied.”

  The proprietress, carrying the cy pot, took it out. As she passed by, she gnced back. Yi Leng was chopping potatoes into thin strips. From the sound of the kriking the board, she could tell he was an experienced chef.

  Yi Leng quickly prepared a simple dish of sour and spicy shredded potatoes and personally brought it out. He sat down with the workers, sharing a beer. With a man at the table, the workers’ lewd stares at the proprietress became more restrained.

  The group drank and chatted loudly until 2 a.m. When the bill came, it totaled 285 yuan. Yi Leng rou doaid only 280.

  The restaurauro quiet. The two of them ed up, w together like a well-matched couple.

  “Where did you learn to cook?” the proprietress asked.

  “I worked in a teen, cooking for over a thousand people,” Yi Leng said. This wasn’t a lie—he had worked in a prison kit for three years.

  “It's so te. Do you have somewhere to go?” she asked. “By the way, I’m Wu Yumei.”

  “I...” Yi Leng’s gaze fell on a yellow cloth tiger doll on the ter. “I’m Huang Pihu.”

  “Old Huang, if you don’t mind, you stay here. Just put the tables together and sleep. We have bedding, pillows, and aric heater,” Wu Yumei offered.

  “Thank you, boss,” Yi Leng accepted her kindness.

  Wu Yumei was slightly surprised. Everyone else called her “boss dy,” but Huang Pihu had immediately reized her as the true owner. However, she didn’t ent, pulling down the rolling door and leaving through the back, log it from the inside.

  “It’s te. Let me walk you out,” Yi Leng said politely.

  Wu Yumei robably used to walking home at this hour. It wasn’t dangerous, but she appreciated his . “It’s fine, I have a car,” she said, waving her car keys. Outside, a worn-out Wuling Hongguang arked in the alley.

  After watg her car’s taillights fade, Yi Leuro the restaurant. This Wu Yumei had a bold, galnt spirit. She wasn’t afraid to let a straay in her shop, without w about being robbed.

  Yi Leng pushed the tables together, id out bedding, turned off the lights, and y down. The surroundings were perfectly quiet. He could evehe sound of snow crushing fallen branches.

  In the seaside town where Xiang Mo had grown up, Yi Leng spent a sleepless night.

  ---

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