Chapter 107 If I become a memory, I'm finally not so lucky.
The next day, the Gulfstream G650's route pointed precisely to Cambridge.
In fact, he had flown this transatlantic route countless times over the past year.
So much so that his driver in England, whenever he picked him up from the private terminal at Heathrow Airport, would drive without hesitation onto the best route to her college without even asking his destination. So much so that the owner of the café on the corner from her apartment, a bearded Englishman, would silently begin preparing a cup of black coffee the moment his car pulled up to the side of the road.
He knew everything about her.
He knew how her first semester paper, which incorporated cutting-edge information trading models, stood out among many outstanding students with its unique perspective and solid argumentation, winning the professor's favor. He knew she seemed to be slowly adapting to Cambridge's rainy weather, and had even bought a pair of rain boots commonly worn by locals. He knew that Du Xiwei did indeed, as he had instructed, occasionally bother her and take her out for a home-cooked meal.
He knows everything.
He simply never appeared in front of her.
The plane landed.
The black sedan glided into the quiet streets of Cambridge and finally stopped at the end of the cobblestone path lined with plane trees where her apartment was located.
He didn't get out of the car, he just rolled down the window.
The mist had not yet dissipated, and the air was cool and damp.
He saw the familiar apartment door open, and Yan Shuang came out carrying several books.
She was wearing a light-colored sweater, her hair had grown a bit longer, and the tip of her nose was slightly red from the cold air. She was walking with her head down, intently looking at the pages of the book in her arms, seemingly muttering something to herself.
Her profile, against the backdrop of the ancient academy, was slender yet resilient.
He watched her walk step by step across the wet cobblestone path, her figure gradually disappearing into the dappled sunlight filtering through the sycamore trees until she vanished beneath the academy's archway.
Sitting in the back seat, Shangqiu Zhu's thoughts drifted back to that early autumn more than a year ago, when she had just arrived in England.
At that time, he had just personally put her on the flight to this place and began to fill all his time with almost frantic work.
Then, a conference invitation from the UK arrived at just the right time.
For an event of this scale, a senior executive could easily be sent; there's no need for him to personally attend.
But almost the instant he saw the word "Britain," he signed his name on the electronic agreement without hesitation.
After arriving in London and attending a lengthy meeting, he drove to Cambridge almost immediately.
When the car stopped downstairs at her apartment building, he could even clearly recall the heavy pounding of his heart at that moment.
He made up an excuse for himself: he was just passing by to see how she was settled, and he would only take a quick look before leaving.
Then he sat in that car until the sun began to set and the streetlights came on.
Finally, Yan Shuang's figure emerged from the apartment door.
She kept her head down and walked slowly, as if she were familiarizing herself with her surroundings, or as if she had nowhere to go.
The car followed behind her, and he watched her walk aimlessly for a short distance before heading towards a small noodle shop on the street corner.
He watched her push open the door and go in, and about ten minutes later, she came out alone again, her figure quickly disappearing in the direction of returning to the apartment.
A moment later, he pushed open the car door and got out.
The shop is small, with only a handful of customers.
He asked the waiter for a glass of water, walked over, and sat down on the chair that still retained some warmth from his body.
The bowl of noodles on the table had barely been touched.
Shangqiu Zhu's brows furrowed slightly.
It doesn't taste good?
He took out his phone and sent a message to his assistant.
Then he put a few banknotes at the bottom of the cup, got up and left the small shop, returning to the black car.
A month later, Yan Shuang was surprised to find that a seemingly ordinary but extremely authentic Chinese restaurant had quietly opened downstairs from her apartment building.
The dishes she made were savory and delicate, and she was an expert at making slow-cooked soups, perfectly capturing her preferred tastes.
She attributed it to good luck, finally finding a canteen she liked and solving her biggest problem in life. The academic pressure at Cambridge was immense, with papers and experiments filling her schedule. She simply didn't have time to cook for herself, and she either ate sandwiches or strangely flavored Western food, leaving her stomach always feeling cold.
Little did she know that this restaurant always reserved a quiet spot by the window for her, ensuring that she could always get a hot meal the fastest, no matter when she went.
But there were many more things she didn't know that year.
Unaware that she possessed astonishingly high access to financial databases, she could download much material that required payment or special application with a single click. She was also unaware that this was backed by massive strategic cooperation agreements that Shang Qiuzhu had privately entered into with several top academic databases.
She was the only user he set up who didn't require any approval and had the highest access privileges.
She was unaware that the area around her college and apartment was exceptionally safe. Not only had the number of police patrols increased, but nighttime lighting had also been greatly improved.
This stemmed from an anonymous community safety donation, specifically designated to upgrade security facilities and staffing in the area.
The supermarket she frequents always has her favorite Asian ingredients and snacks on the shelves, and the restocking is exceptionally timely.
Her apartment always had excellent heating in winter, and a stable supply of hot water. She was unaware that the building's heating system had been upgraded at the expense of an anonymous homeowner.
All of this, the smoothness and good fortune she felt, was the result of his countless late-night overseas phone calls and the silent investment of huge sums of money.
But he never showed up.
The Cambridge street scene outside the car window gradually became clear.
Shangqiu Zhu's thoughts drifted from that twilight a year ago, filled with worry and longing, back to this moment.
The carriage remained silent, the warm jade Buddha pressed against his heart.
It was as if a trace of the warmth left by her fingertips a year ago still lingered, as well as the sincere blessing he had only learned about yesterday.
May you be free from illness and pain, enjoy good health year after year, and have a smooth and worry-free life.
These words are etched in his heart.
At the academy gate, Yan Shuang walked out carrying books.
Just then, a tall, slender figure carrying a chubby orange cat walked towards her with a smile.
It is Lin Chengyu.
Shangqiu Zhu saw Lin Chengyu smile and say something to Yan Shuang, then hand the docile orange cat in his arms forward.
The next second, he clearly saw that all the contemplation and fatigue on Yan Shuang's face vanished instantly.
Instead, he felt a joy he hadn't seen in a long time.
She reached out and lovingly took the chubby cat, holding it in her arms and affectionately rubbing her cheek against the cat's fluffy head.
She looked up at Lin Chengyu and said something, her smile radiant.
Lin Chengyu stood beside her, watching her play with the cat, a smile on his lips.
Shangqiu Zhu's hand, which had been touching the jade Buddha on his chest, slowly fell down.
He sat silently in the car, watching the couple drive away into the distance.
The car window slowly rolled up.
He came, he looked around, and then it was time for him to leave.
Just like every time before.
"Let's go."
The engine restarted, and the car drove away silently.
Yan Shuang carefully took the chubby snowball and held it in her arms.
Seeing her completely captivated by the cat, Lin Chengyu chuckled, "Petting you gently, sister, it's my cat now."
Yan Shuang didn't even look up. "Thank you for taking care of me for so long. You've worked so hard. I'm taking it home."
He turned and started to walk towards the apartment.
Lin Chengyu immediately followed behind her, his voice filled with exaggerated grievance: "Sister, you're so heartless! You used me and then threw me away, and now you're even trying to steal my snowball. You're like someone who crosses the river and then destroys it, like someone who uses a millstone and then kills it."
Yan Shuang was amused and stopped walking, turning around to look at him: "Then what do you want in return for me?"
Lin Chengyu withdrew his smile, leaned down slightly to meet her gaze, and said, "How about we raise them together?"
The implication in the words was crystal clear.
Yan Shuang's smile faded slightly.
This wasn't the first time he had crossed the line in this half-joking manner.
She sighed, her tone clearly distant: "Cheng Yu, stop it. You know, I..."
Lin Chengyu quickly straightened up, interrupting her, "Yan Shuang,"
He called her by her full name, his tone devoid of its usual joking tone, "Do you still miss him?"
The question came somewhat abruptly, but Yan Shuang understood almost immediately who he was asking.
The act of stroking the cat suddenly stopped, leaving only Snowball's puzzled purring.
Her silence was an answer.
Lin Chengyu looked at her lowered profile and her suddenly dimmed eyes.
He tugged at the corners of his mouth, trying to put on an indifferent smile, but it seemed somewhat forced.
“Alright,” he looked away. “You can keep the cat for now. But Yanshuang, if you ever go back to him, you have to bring Snowball back to me. Understand?”
This statement sounds like a naive declaration, but it is the final bottom line and boundary he set for himself.
Yan Shuang finally raised her head and met his unusually serious gaze.
She seemed to want to say something, but in the end it just turned into a somewhat fleeting smile.
"Okay," she replied softly, turning and walking towards the apartment building with the cat in her arms.
Lin Chengyu stood there, watching her departing figure without hesitation.
If it weren't for the cat in her arms, she probably would never have agreed to meet him.
Thinking of this, a barely perceptible bitter smile appeared on his lips, but in a corner of his heart, a kind of almost humble satisfaction rose up.
It's good to have even this one glimpse.
-
Time slipped silently into its third year.
One day in April, Shang Qiuzhu was in a conference room at the Shanghai Financial Center, listening to his subordinates' report with a stern expression.
Suddenly, the screen of his personal phone on the table lit up, and a series of urgent news notifications broke the tense atmosphere of the meeting.
[UK reports record daily increase in COVID-19 cases as mutated strains spread!]
Cambridgeshire and surrounding areas have been upgraded to the highest alert level and are immediately locked down!
Multiple universities have experienced cluster infections, including some colleges at Cambridge University…
Below the glaring headlines was a map of the UK, with her area highlighted by a thick, dark red line.
Shangqiu Zhu suddenly stopped flipping through the documents.
"President Shang?" The manager, who was giving a report, noticed something was amiss and spoke cautiously.
Shangqiu bamboo showed no reaction.
Images of her alone in the apartment flashed through his mind, along with scenes of overcrowded hospitals in British news reports and all the descriptions of the virus's dangers...
Every possibility plunged him into endless panic.
He stood up abruptly, not caring about anyone's gaze, and strode out of the conference room.
The entire conference room fell silent, stunned by the sudden turn of events, staring in disbelief at their president, who had never been so out of control...
Du Yunchuan arrived at the VIP ward of the private hospital in London on the third day after the news arrived.
Pushing open the ward door, a faint smell of disinfectant filled the air.
However, the person lying in the hospital bed, wrapped in bandages, with a pale face but still unable to hide his sharp features.
It is Shangqiu bamboo.
Du Yunchuan stood frozen at the door for several seconds before quickly walking inside.
He looked at the guy on the bed who had clearly been seriously injured, feeling both annoyed and amused.
Ultimately, it turned into a long, wistful sigh.
"I say, President Shang," Du Yunchuan dragged a chair to sit on the edge of the bed, his tone filled with incomprehension and sigh, "You were such a ruthless and decisive CEO, but how come you're like a completely different person when it comes to Yan Shuang? What's going on here? A life-or-death race? A hero saving a damsel in distress only to end up in the ICU yourself?"
Shangqiu Zhu, lying in her hospital bed, had a furrowed brow.
Seeing Shang Qiuzhu's anxious eyes, which were practically spitting fire, Du Yunchuan dared not keep her in suspense any longer and quickly dropped the most crucial information: "Don't worry, she's fine, perfectly healthy, not a single hair on her head is missing."
He emphasized his words, making sure each one was crystal clear, “She wasn’t even in Cambridge. Coincidentally, just two days before the pandemic escalated and they locked down there, her research group had a last-minute exchange program at Durham University. The situation there is much better, very safe. All your enthusiasm and injuries, well, it was all for nothing.”
Upon hearing his words, Shangqiu Zhu's bloodshot eyes and anxiety finally faded.
As Du Yunchuan spoke, he felt a pang of sadness.
Who would have thought that he would be so flustered by an urgent message about her, even going so far as to drive through extreme weather?
result……
Shangqiu Zhu closed her eyes, her uninjured hand tightly gripping the shattered jade Buddha.
Du Yunchuan shook his head. "Do you really have to do this? You've made yourself into this mess."
Shangqiu Zhu didn't open her eyes, her voice hoarse: "Get out of here after you've finished speaking."
Du Yunchuan was taken aback by his rude attitude, but considering that he was injured, he didn't argue with him.
He clicked his tongue and crossed his legs: "What are you getting out of here for? I flew all this way to collect your corpse, oh no, to visit you in the hospital, and this is your attitude?"
He glanced at Shangqiu Zhu's pale face and said in a slightly more serious tone, "Alright, stop acting like a hedgehog. What do you want to eat? I'll go buy you something; you've lost too much blood, you need to replenish it."
"No need." Shangqiu Zhu's refusal to communicate was quite clear.
Seeing his stubborn and unyielding attitude, Du Yunchuan finally got a little angry.
"Shangqiu Zhu, can't you be a little more dignified? What are you doing lying here pretending to be a love saint or a victim? You were the one who silently sent him away back then, and now you're the one who rushes over here like a madman at the slightest hint of trouble. Who are you trying to fool with this sentimental act? Are you just asking for trouble?"
He grew angrier and angrier, wanting to snap the man out of his daze: "Listen to my advice, eat your food first, get yourself healthy. Then I'll teach you how to..."
The words "bring them back" were already on the tip of his tongue, but Du Yunchuan's voice suddenly stopped.
Because he suddenly met Shangqiu Zhu's eyes, which had suddenly opened.
Those eyes remained sharp, filled with anger at being offended, but beneath that thin layer of rage, Du Yunchuan clearly saw a profound loneliness. A void and desolation that no amount of wealth or power could fill.
Just like the lingering aura that he had glimpsed at those noisy banquets over the past two years, surrounding Shangqiu Zhu.
But at this moment, under the pale hospital room lights, with his wounds all over his body, that sense of loneliness was exposed without any concealment, so intense that it was frightening.
All the teasing stuck in his throat, and a heavy silence fell over the ward. Du Yunchuan suddenly didn't know what to say, and awkwardly looked away, muttering a low "fuck," though it was unclear who he was cursing.
The lockdowns brought about by the pandemic made the whole world seem to be on slow motion.
Just when all kinds of epidemic prevention supplies were becoming scarce, Yan Shuang received a package.
The sender's name was Du Xiwei.
She smiled, not surprised.
Sister Weiwei is always like this, she will send her something every now and then. Sometimes it is fresh ingredients, sometimes it is a sweater that she picked up when she bought clothes for the children, and sometimes it is some home-cooked snacks.
Their relationship had long since transcended that of ordinary friends.
Yan Shuang often visits her home when she has free time, to tutor the children, play with them, and have a meal together, as if it were another home for her in a foreign land.
The packaging was very careful, and she opened it layer by layer. However, when the contents were fully exposed, Yan Shuang paused slightly as she was about to take out her phone to express her gratitude.
Inside was a box full of high-quality protective equipment that was extremely hard to find at the time: N95 masks, medical surgical gloves, disinfectant, and at the bottom of the box were certain medicines that had long been out of stock on the market and were being sold at exorbitant prices. Next to it was a detailed safety protection guide, which covered everything from disinfection procedures after returning from outside to risk level assessments in different scenarios. It was written by a top epidemiologist.
The items were arranged neatly, as if the sender had put a great deal of effort into collecting them all.
Yan Shuang looked at the heavy box of hard currency, and for some reason, her fingertip hovered over the dial button, but she didn't press it.
A familiar yet unsettling feeling suddenly surged into my heart.
A name popped into her mind.
She stood there silently.
Outside the window was the gloomy sky of Durham, but before her eyes appeared that person's cold, handsome features and his ever-upright back.
Perhaps the continuous rain and gloomy skies in Britain had finally exhausted people's patience, and Yan Shuang began to miss Los Angeles uncontrollably.
For the past two years, she has completely immersed herself in academia and has never tried to extend her reach into this familiar field.
She thought she had adapted to the rhythm of the place and gotten used to the slightly oppressive tranquility.
Until this night.
She had a dream that was both extremely ordinary and yet so distant it felt like a lifetime had passed.
In my dream, there were no ancient stone walls or dusty libraries of Cambridge, nor any academic problems that needed to be solved.
What she dreamed of was the dazzling sunlight of Los Angeles streaming through huge floor-to-ceiling windows and onto the gleaming floor.
She carried a stack of documents and hurried through the spacious, echoing corridor of the top-floor office.
In her dream, she was quickly reporting the meeting arrangements in a low voice into her Bluetooth headset.
Then, she pushed open a heavy solid wood door.
Shangqiu Zhu was sitting behind that huge desk, head down, signing documents.
Hearing her voice as she entered, he didn't immediately look up, but merely frowned slightly and tapped a certain clause with his fingertip.
"This clause should be revised."
His voice was crystal clear even in my dreams.
She immediately stepped forward, picked up the document, and nodded knowingly: "Understood, I'll contact the legal department right away."
Just as she turned to leave, he suddenly spoke, his gaze still fixed on the next document, "What do you want to eat tonight?"
In the dream, she seemed to answer something, and the scenes began to blur and shift...
Yan Shuang suddenly woke up from her dream.
Outside the window, it was still a deep night, with the sound of cold rain tapping on the glass.
She sat on the bed in a daze, slowly hugging her knees and burying her face in them.
Six months have passed in the blink of an eye. As the shadow of the pandemic gradually dissipates, research projects and academic exchanges in Cambridge colleges are beginning to pick up again.
One day, the department announced a project collaboration with a top laboratory on the West Coast of the United States.
The project is extremely challenging, requiring long-term residence in the other party's laboratory, with a very high workload, and the funding is not particularly generous.
What's even more discouraging is that the project is located in Los Angeles, a place with a high cost of living and far removed from the Cambridge academic community.
As expected, few people responded after the notice was posted.
In private discussions, everyone felt it was a tough job and shook their heads in refusal.
On the last day of the deadline, the bulletin board remained deserted.
The administrative secretary in charge of this matter has begun organizing other documents, preparing to report the result of no one signing up before leaving get off work.
At that very moment.
A slender hand picked up the pen hanging nearby, the pen tip pausing on the paper for a very brief moment, as if making some kind of decision.
Then, a delicate and quiet name silently appeared in the long-empty signature area of the registration form.
The ink was still wet, gleaming faintly in the setting sun.
The hand put down the pen and turned away silently.
It wasn't until the secretary was about to do a final check that she discovered a signature on the form that had been blank for a whole week.
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