Long Road

That night of his birthday, the sinking of the stone was like a sudden cold wave, completely freezing the tender sprout of "hope" that had just broken through the soil in Qi Shuo's heart.

What followed was a chilling cold and deathly silence even more intense than the deep winter in the northern city.

He shut himself off again.

This time, it's even worse than when he was first released from prison.

He no longer mentioned the name "Ning Wan," as if the girl who had smiled at him in the library, quietly read in the corner of the restaurant, and blushed in the steamy hot pot had never appeared in his life.

He even deliberately avoided all places that might trigger memories. His favorite window seat was quietly moved back to its original place by himself after get off work one day, without any further explanation.

At first, Sister Jin and Qin Zhou would cautiously probe him, deliberately mentioning "library," "translated books," and even "milk tea" in front of him, trying to catch a ripple in his eyes, even if it was just a trace of pain, to at least prove that he still had feelings.

But Qi Shuo's reaction startled them—he just listened indifferently, his eyes vacant, without any response, as if he were listening to a story that had nothing to do with him.

That kind of complete, stagnant calm is more frightening than a hysterical breakdown.

He was like an empty shell with his soul removed, mechanically repeating the same routine of going to work, leaving get off work, and going home.

The restaurant work remained meticulous, but the previous focus had been lost, replaced by a numb inertia.

When I got home, I locked myself in my room and stared at the ceiling until midnight.

Sleep has become a luxury, and nightmares have become a regular occurrence.

Those past events he forcibly suppressed—the image of his mother falling from the building, his father's frantic roars, his sister's helpless cries, Tan Zhong's ferocious face, and the cold iron bars of the prison—became increasingly entangled with him, intertwined with the scene of Ning Wan's resolute disappearance, repeatedly questioning the meaning of his existence.

The psychiatrist prescribed increasingly stronger doses of medication, but the effects became less and less pronounced. The sleeping pills went from being an adjunct to a source of dependence. Even so, he would often wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, his heart pounding, unable to fall back asleep.

The dark circles under his eyes and his increasingly gaunt face silently testified to the torment in his heart.

Watching him wither away at a visible speed, everyone around him was extremely anxious.

Sister Jin forcibly established "rules": Qi Shuo must be taken to see a psychologist for a follow-up examination every two weeks.

Usually, she and Xiao Jue would take turns accompanying him, and sometimes Qin Zhou would insist on coming along too. The journey to the hospital was always silent. On the way back, Sister Jin would buy a lot of groceries and cook his favorite dishes in different ways, even though he would usually only take a few bites before putting them down.

Xiao Jue would find all sorts of excuses to take him out, to play ball, take a walk, or simply go for a drive, even if Qi Shuo didn't say a word the whole time.

Even Lin Ye, who had just finished the college entrance examination and was successfully admitted to Beicheng University, would go to Qi Shuo's home or restaurant whenever he had free time, sit quietly next to him without saying a word, just keeping him company.

Qin Zhou went to great lengths, chattering away about interesting things that happened at school every day after school, regardless of whether Qi Shuo was listening or not. He talked about which teacher had embarrassed themselves, and where he and Song Yungui had gone, trying to dispel the deathly silence in the room with the vibrant energy unique to teenagers.

Qi Shuo knew everyone's worries and could feel their almost overflowing concern. He saw it all, and it pained him deeply.

Countless times in the dead of night, he clenched his fists and told himself: Cheer up, Qi Shuo, you can't be like this. For Sister Jin, for Xiao Zhou, for everyone who cares about you, you must get better.

But it's too difficult.

His heart felt like it had been ripped open, from which all his strength and warmth had drained away. The heavy memories of the past, memories that could drag him into the abyss, surged up like a black tide, one wave after another, tightly enveloping him, and a suffocating feeling followed him everywhere.

He struggled desperately, but felt himself sinking deeper and deeper. A profound sense of powerlessness gripped him—he felt he really couldn't do it.

The days slipped by in a gloomy, oppressive atmosphere for over four months. The cicadas' chirping gradually subsided, and autumn deepened.

September 21st, an ordinary weekday afternoon. Qi Shuo was wiping glasses in the restaurant when his gaze inadvertently swept over the calendar on the wall. He stopped in his tracks.

September 21st.

An ordinary combination of numbers acted like a key, unexpectedly unlocking a gate in his memory.

One year ago today, he was released from prison and walked out of that heavy iron gate.

It's been a year.

A whole year.

Time flies so fast, it makes him feel dazed.

That year, he experienced the bewilderment of returning to the world, had a brief job, felt the warmth of home, experienced the joy of excitement, and also tasted the despair of being completely abandoned.

A rollercoaster of highs and lows, a mix of joy and sorrow, like a long and tiring dream.

He stared at the date with a slight pause, unable to describe the feeling in his heart.

And the world around us is also quietly changing.

Qin Zhou and Song Yungui entered their senior year of high school, and their academic pressure increased dramatically, so they spent significantly less time at the restaurant. Sister Jin, who was in charge of the graduating class, was even busier, and the wrinkles around her eyes deepened. Although Lin Ye was admitted to a local university, he had a falling out with his family over the issue of university application and was "thrown" to Xiao Jue for care. Xiao Jue himself had to balance the increasingly heavy workload of the law firm with taking care of Lin Ye, who was suddenly separated from his family and whose emotions were unstable.

Everyone is busy; they all have new battlefields they must rush to.

The once emotionally unstable Qi Shuo, who needed to be carefully protected at all times, seems to have gradually become a silent background noise in their busy lives.

A sharp sense of self-reproach and guilt suddenly pierced Qi Shuo.

He's being too dramatic.

It was just a relationship that ended without a clear reason, yet he lingered on it for so long, causing everyone who cared about him to worry.

He has been dragging everyone down.

Jin Jie, at an age when she should be able to relax, is worrying herself sick over him; Xiao Jue is already busy enough with work, but he still has to take care of him; even Qin Zhou and Lin Ye, these two teenagers, have to go to great lengths to make him happy.

He was like a heavy burden, slowing everyone's progress.

This realization made him feel utterly ashamed.

However, despite the busyness, that warmth never truly left.

When Qin Zhou came home from school, no matter how tired he was, he would squeeze into his room and talk excitedly about the gossip in class for ten minutes. Even if Sister Jin only had half a day off on the weekend, she would drag him out to buy groceries and chatter on about trivial matters. Xiao Jue and Lin Ye would always "happen" to be running errands nearby and then "conveniently" come to the restaurant to see him and sit for a while.

Before the National Day holiday, several young men even squeezed onto his small bed, playing games and making a ruckus, trying to dispel the quietness in his room with their almost domineering youthful energy.

Watching them try to act nonchalantly, yet unable to hide the worry in their eyes, and seeing their unwavering determination to pull him out of the corner despite their exhaustion, Qi Shuo's heart, frozen for months, suddenly cracked slightly in a corner.

He remembered how, after Ning Wan disappeared, Sister Jin, with tears in her eyes, forced a smile and said, "It's okay, Shuozi, we're here"; he remembered how Qin Zhou would wake up from a nightmare in the middle of the night and his first reaction was to run to his door, asking in a tearful voice, "Brother Shuo, are you alright?"; he remembered how Xiao Jue would sit with him on the street late at night time and time again, silently smoking...

Yes, Qi Shuo.

What are you asking for?

Is it that phantom that appears out of thin air and then disappears into thin air?

Look around you. You already have Sister Jin's unconditional maternal love, Qin Zhou's sincere reliance, Xiao Jue's unwavering brotherhood over the past twenty years, and the genuine care from Lin Ye and Song Yungui.

These are the real, steadfast supports that stand firm through thick and thin.

How lucky you are.

You should be content.

A mix of guilt, gratitude, and a faint sense of strength slowly welled up in my heart.

He couldn't go on like this. For the sake of those who had pulled him back from the brink of despair time and time again, he had to try to take a step toward the light himself.

Change is slow and difficult, but he began to try. He forced himself to take his medication on time, and even when he had no appetite, he would try to eat a few more bites of the food that Sister Jin cooked; he tried to take a walk alone in the nearby park when the weather was nice, even if he was just sitting on a bench watching people come and go; he picked up books again, no longer to translate, but to flip through them randomly, letting the words distract him; in the restaurant, he tried to take the initiative to talk to his colleagues, even if it was just about work.

Like an injured snail, he cautiously extended his antennae to rediscover the world that had once warmed him and yet dealt him a heavy blow.

Every step was accompanied by inner struggle and fear, but he told himself that he had to go out and step into the sunlight, even if it was just to stop those who loved him from shedding tears again.

During the National Day holiday, the restaurant's shift schedule was in place, and Qin Zhou was assigned to the 6th and 7th. On the afternoon of October 6th, Qi Shuo drove to Beicheng No. 1 Middle School to pick up Qin Zhou and Song Yungui, two senior high school students who were on holiday.

The school gate was still bustling with people, filled with the vibrant energy of youth. Qi Shuo parked his car and leaned against the door, his gaze calmly sweeping over the noisy crowd. Then, his eyes settled on a familiar figure.

Tan Huaiyu.

He stood under a sycamore tree not far from the school gate, wearing a clean school uniform. He seemed a little thinner than he had been a few months ago, and his hair was somewhat dazzling in the autumn sunlight. He also saw Qi Shuo, and their eyes met unexpectedly across the bustling crowd.

Qi Shuo's eyes were calm, without any ripples, showing neither hatred nor disgust, as if he were looking at a complete stranger passing by.

These past few months of hellish torment seem to have worn away all the intense love and hate, leaving only a deep-seated weariness and... a kind of indifferent relief.

Tan Huaiyu was jolted. He clearly saw Qi Shuo's gaunt, sunken face, the overwhelming weariness in his eyes, and the lingering, silent aura surrounding him. A sharp pang of regret and heartache gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake.

Did he... do something wrong?

Did that plan actually push him into an even deeper abyss?

He almost couldn't control himself, and step by step, he moved towards Qi Shuo's direction.

As he approached, he opened his mouth as if to say something, and reached out his hand as if to touch it, but it fell limply to the side.

Finally, she uttered a single, trembling, almost inaudible cry:

"Brother Qi Shuo..."

This time, Qi Shuo neither ignored nor became agitated. He responded with an extremely soft, almost inaudible sound:

"Um."

The voice was hoarse and low, devoid of any emotion, yet it caused Tan Huaiyu's pupils to contract sharply.

He responded.

Despite the coldness, they did respond eventually.

Qi Shuo shifted his gaze to the school gate, searching for Qin Zhou and Song Yungui.

He said to himself: It's all in the past. Tan Huaiyu, Ning Wan, all the good and bad, it's all over.

He can't be trapped in those unbearable memories and wallow in self-pity forever. He still has a home, and family and friends who need him and love him deeply.

He had to come out of that situation. Not for anyone else, but for himself, and for those who had never given up on him.

Autumn sunlight filtered through the gaps in the sycamore leaves, casting dappled shadows on him. The wind was a little cool, but carried a refreshing scent.

Qi Shuo took a deep breath and felt that the huge rock that had been pressing on his chest for so long seemed to have loosened a little.

The road ahead is long, but at least he is willing to try and keep moving forward.