Chapter 102 No Way Back
——She cut off the past with her own hands, and from then on darkness was the way back and the only salvation.
On an early winter morning in Beijing, the cold wind wrapped in frost penetrated into the bones, but this little bit of cold was far less than the chill that made Su Lixia feel stiff in her heart.
At the dining table, she sipped the warm and dense millet porridge cooked by her mother. It was the taste she missed the most, but now she couldn't taste it.
The scorching heat blurred the faces of my parents across from me, their faces hesitant to speak. My father was looking down at his phone, the screen frozen on the news page for a long time.
Her mother kept picking up food for her, her lips moving for a long time, and finally she said softly, "Xia Xia, eat more... When you get home, you should eat well."
The word "home" pierced her heart like a thorn. She knew the worry in her parents' eyes and the unspoken suspicions they hadn't expressed. They believed she had endured unbearable hardships in Burma and were using this cautious method to protect her "wounded" heart and "unclean" body.
Su Lixia looked down at the ripples in the bowl, remembering Savika's wicked smile as he fed her palm sugar, the hideous bullet holes on his back, the undulating curves on the monitor...
She put down the spoon and whispered, "Dad, Mom, I'll be leaving soon..."
My mother's hand trembled, and her chopsticks dropped onto the table. "So urgent? Can't you stay a few more days? You..." She didn't finish her words, but the panic in her eyes and the unfinished words filled the air—Haven't you endured the days of being pointed at and criticized at school? Can't you wait a few more days?
The father finally put down the phone and sighed: "Xia Xia, how about... taking a year off from school? Let's go to the south to relax... If it doesn't work out, come home. Dad... will support you for the rest of your life." His voice was heavy, with a kind of resigned sadness, as if he was talking about a regret that could not be changed.
Su Lixia's heart felt like it was being gripped by an ice-cold hand. The surging bitterness and grievance almost overwhelmed her. The rumors had seeped into every crevice of this home.
She opened her mouth, wanting to tell them loudly that she had not encountered those dirty things, that her experience in Myanmar was far more complicated than they had imagined, and far more than they had imagined... there was someone she perhaps shouldn't care about.
But in the end, she just lowered her head and said softly, "Hmm." All the explanations were pale and powerless, and she couldn't express it in words.
After dinner, she dragged her suitcase through the living room as her parents watched the news broadcast. Images of the war in northern Myanmar flashed across the screen, and her mother frantically grabbed the remote to change the channel, the plastic casing creaking under the weight.
"I'm leaving." Su Lixia walked over and hugged her parents. She smelled the familiar scent of laundry detergent on her mother's collar. "Don't worry."
Her father didn't say anything, just patted her on the back. The warmth of his palm penetrated her clothes and made her eyes wet. She blinked hard, gripped the handle of the suitcase tightly, and slowly turned around.
Only she herself knows that the "goodbye" she said when she left was not an expectation of reunion, but a "goodbye" to the past.
Beijing Airport, Terminal 3.
Su Lixia sat in a corner of the terminal, watching planes take off and land on the runway. Boarding announcements in Chinese and English streamed over the broadcast, and around her, passengers hurried to their destinations, some heading home, some on a long journey.
But she left for many years and never returned.
It was not a farewell, but an exile, an exile of her own choosing, heading towards darkness but also the only salvation.
From then on, my hometown became a foreign land, and that military camp in northern Myanmar, where blood and fire were intertwined, was the only way home for the rest of my life.
When the boarding announcement sounded, she took a last look at the WeChat family group. Her mother sent a cooking video, her father forwarded a health article, her cousin was discussing wedding dress styles, and her aunt was joking... Everything was no different from before she went to Myanmar, except that there was no place for her in this bustling atmosphere.
Su Lixia took a deep breath and edited a message:
"Mom and Dad, take care of yourselves. Don't worry, be well."
The moment the successful notification chime rang, she turned off her phone and forcefully broke the tiny SIM card. The shards of plastic stabbed against her palm, causing a subtle sting, as if severing the last, tenuous connection to her past. She tossed the SIM card into the trash and, without looking back, headed for the boarding bridge.
As the plane soared into the sky, Su Lixia gazed at the shrinking city of Beijing and finally burst into tears. The Forbidden City's golden roof blurred into a dim speck in the haze. The plaques in Tsinghua University, the white coats at the medical school, the candied haws in the alleyways—all things she had once been proud of—had become mere illusions of a past life.
When the flight attendant handed out the arrival card, she paused for a long time on the "Purpose of this Trip" column, and finally wrote down forcefully: Homing.
The ink slowly spread out, and she seemed to see Savika's eyes that were always filled with violence and tenderness.
The plane finally landed at Suvarnabhumi Airport. Standing in the immigration line, Su Lixia looked at the passengers of all colors and felt a strange sense of belonging. Her tense nerves suddenly relaxed. No one looked at her strangely, let alone questioned her "tough experiences."
"Purpose of travel?" the customs officer asked, tapping the stamp.
"Go home." She heard herself answer in stiff Thai.
As she pushed her suitcase out of the arrival gate and glanced at the noisy crowd of people welcoming her, she saw a black Maybach protected in the middle by four black SUVs. The Mo family guards in black suits stood upright next to the car.
The car door opened and Ruan Xingchen walked out slowly, holding her pregnant belly.
"Welcome home, little deserter." She opened her arms with a familiar smile on her face.
Su Lixia buried her face in her soft shoulder and took a deep breath. The air was filled with the unique dampness of Bangkok and the faint rose scent of Ruan Xingchen. The vague Thai voice of the airport announcement came from afar, and she finally regained her breathing rhythm.
"Where is he?" Su Lixia asked in a hoarse voice.
"I grabbed the phone right after I woke up and nearly tore the IV needle apart." Ruan Xingchen smiled helplessly, "I insisted on coming to pick you up in person, and now Xiaohan is holding me in the hospital for rehabilitation."
As she got into the car, the cool air from the air conditioner brushed against her skin, reminding her of the cold winter wind in Beijing, but this time, she chose to walk into eternal summer.
Su Lixia looked at the spire of the Golden Buddha Temple passing by the window and whispered, "Senior sister...I might really be crazy."
"What's so crazy?" Ruan Xingchen smiled and handed the iced coconut to her. "It's just that you choose to live in the truth, not in the fairy tales made up by others."
The convoy drove across the Rama VIII Bridge, motorboats created white waves on the Chao Phraya River, the smoke from the charcoal fires of night market vendors drifted in through the car windows, and even the honking of horns in traffic jams seemed familiar.
Su Lixia saw her moist eyes in the rearview mirror. There was no longer hesitation in them, but a willingness to sink into despair.
The medical student who once had hope for a bright future has been "killed" by rumors in the harsh winter of Beijing. The one who survived is Su Lixia, who found her way home in the smoke and blood.
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