A Round Trip to Love 2: Separate Routes

Chapter Thirteen

Eventually Zhuo Lan and I got a divorce. Nothing actually happened between us; a man of high caliber, good background and good character started pursuing her with such perseverance. As for me, I have held her back for way too long, I will not be the roadblock that prevents her from obtaining her real happiness in life anymore. I admit that besides consummating our marriage and performing my marital duty as a husband during the early days,I barely touched her since. It is not that she is an unattractive woman, but it is because ...... a body like mine, has long lost its natural male instincts to carry out the biological act.

She is still young, as beautiful as ever, Wen Yang is no longer a little child anymore, able to understand the things that we explain to him, I believe this is the most appropriate time to leave.

Zhuo Lan could not stop crying and that made me feel horrible. I am an appalling husband through and through, the debt that I owe her is too much now, I could not allow it to accumulate any further.

A whole decade had past, no matter how I view it, it is entirely my fault.

Wen Yang that child did not make the slightest protest, he is more mature than most kids his age. No tears, no fuss, only a slight pout on his little lips as he stared at me as I was leaving, staring at this sorry excuse of a father who only knows how to escape.

We may no longer be a married couple, but we maintained frequent, almost daily contact with each other, like actual friends would. I got a job at an electronics company and doing well there. Once I receive my monthly wages I would buy them stuff. They may be from a wealthy family, lacking in nothing, but it has become a habit of mine to go over with presents of all shapes and sizes, after all, these physical items are all I can give them now. After Zhuo Lan settled down with her emotions, she would prepare tea and desserts every time I go over for a visit and we would sit on a table chatting amicably. To be honest, compared to being a couple, we are more suited to be friends.

Wen Yang gradually grew out of sticking to me all the time, he was still very young, and could not fully understand why his father had left. However, I know that he still likes me, from the way he would display the things I bought him meticulously in his room like little treasures.

Life was peaceful and uneventful, nothing is missing from it, but nothing holds any meaning too.

Time flies and I turned forty.

For the past twenty years, time seemed to have stopped for me, I looked hardly any different. When a grown-up Wen Yang stood before me looking uncannily like me, it felt like l was looking into a mirror. This reminded me of another person who is also a split image of myself, but I have lost him. I only know he is somewhere in some part of Tokyo.

I cannot find him. Just like another man whom I misplaced; the agony of the loss is an actual physical pain every time I think of him. I do not know where to look, he too has gone missing from me.

I have to live with that for the rest of my life, alone.

At this ripe old age of forty, I experienced happiness for two years, lost it when he left for five years, and we reunited as lovers for almost a full year ...... and since then, life is a bottomless pit of emptiness, with no end in sight.

I have resigned to the fact that I will never see him again for the rest of my life, when right before my eyes he appeared on the small screen. He looked his usual self, full of arrogance and a grim expression on his face as a crowd surrounded him.

I was home eating a simple dinner at that time, the rice bowl fell from my hands to land on my lap, my pants covered with hot soup, but I could not feel the scalding heat at all.

He has come to T city.

I am absolutely, positively, a hundred percent sure that he did not come here for me, in all likelihood he does not even know that I am here, but ...... we are ....... finally in the same city again.

I sat on my sofa in a daze for the whole night.

Come to think of it, my narcissistic mentality is laughable indeed. By the following day, I actually went to look for Wen Yang first thing after work, and told him that his father is getting married, and he need not look for me ever again. Anyone with a pair of eyes is able to tell that he is my son, I worry that Lu Feng would look for him or Zhuo Lan — If Lu Feng still cares for me as much as he did before, I cannot take the risk that he would act upon the warnings he so seriously gave me before.

Then I was so bold and brazen that I thought of seeing Lu Feng again.

Of course, it was only a thought.

I am not so delusional as to think that after twenty years has past, we can possibly still have anything more to do with each other. It is just that ....... it had been a very long twenty years, and I really miss him unbearably. The secret wish in my heart is to steal a glance at him, even if it is just one glance, even if it is from a far distance away.

Any resentments or traces of hate have since been shrouded by the long passage of time, the thing that lay deeper than hatred though, is rising from the depths of obscurity.

I hesitated and struggled for a long time before I turned up at the company he owned in T city, the friendly and pleasant-looking girl at the reception asked politely but with an indifference: "Do you have an appointment with the president?"

" ...... No ...... I am just an old friend of his ......"

"I am so sorry, I am unable to help you if you do not have an appointment." There was already a hint of contempt in her civil reply.

I apologized and turned around to leave, she was already whispering behind my back: "Friends? Nine out of ten say that they are a friend, and the remaining one is an old classmate."

Ashamed, I hurried away with my head down.

It seems like today, to have a chance to meet him is the desire of countless people.

Among these people, I must be the most extra. They would all come with at least a purpose, and what is mine? So what if I really get to meet him ?

I am the one who left without a word, not even saying goodbye. After so many years, I show myself in front of him. What for? For reminiscences?

What a joke.

Since that day, I totally dismissed the idea of seeing him again from my head. This is a classic case of 'the ship has sailed'. I could still look at him from his occasional appearance on the news, or the occasional write up in the papers. Not only is it 'a thousand articles speaking of the same news' – repetitive news of the opening of his new branch – he also looks almost identical in every article. However, since I have been deprived of any news of him for two decades, as long as there is a photo of him in any newspaper I would definitely buy it.

I know that the only form of proximity I can create with him now is through this method only.