Chapter 44 For us, who do you choose?
Wen Mu stood in the conference room, his fingertips pinching into his palms.
She thought she was seeing things.
But that face—the face that had left a brief trace in her memory when she was in her twenties—reappeared before her without any warning.
It’s Ming Yang.
He was taller than he had been five years ago, with broad shoulders and a deep, defined figure. He had lost his youthful impertinence, yet still carried an undeniable presence. He wore a simple white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing a familiar string of sandalwood beads on his wrist—a style she had casually mentioned as a favorite.
His eyes were still as bright as the stars in a summer night, smiling, yet hiding some emotions that she couldn't understand.
"Teacher Wen, don't you remember me?"
He tilted his head slightly and spoke in a relaxed tone, as if they had just met yesterday.
Wen Mu's throat tightened.
She remembers.
Of course she remembered.
Nova.
That was his code name in the astronomy club, meaning "new star", and it was chosen by her.
Five years ago, he also asked her with a smile: "Teacher Wen, can I pursue you?"
And now, he stood before her, like an old dream that had come to her unexpectedly.
"Remember." Wen Mu heard his own voice and said calmly, "You are Nova."
Ming Yang smiled, with a slight curve at the corners of his eyes.
"I'm so honored that Teacher Wen still remembers me."
Wen Mu didn't respond, but turned and walked towards the conference table, tapping the documents on the table with his fingertips.
"Professor Schmidt said you'd like to participate in the project?" she said calmly and businesslike. "Here are the current research directions and data models. You can take a look."
Ming Yang didn't move.
He just looked at her with an intensity that almost made her uncomfortable.
"Teacher Wen." He suddenly called her.
"You've changed a lot."
Wen Mu raised his eyes and met his gaze: "It's been five years, people always change."
"That's right." Ming Yang chuckled, his fingers unconsciously fiddling with the beads on his wrist, "But you're still the same as before."
He suddenly took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Wen Mu could smell the faint scent of sandalwood on him.
"Even when you pretend not to know me, your eyelashes tremble slightly."
Wen Mu's breathing hitched.
She took a half step back, creating some distance. "The project introduction is on page three."
Ming Yang ignored her avoidance and instead leaned over the edge of the table, half-circling her in front of the table.
"Do you like the flowers I gave you?" he asked in a low voice.
Wen Mu suddenly raised his eyes: "Is it you?"
"Yeah." He chuckled. "Blue wind chimes, you said before, look like nebulae."
"You sent me the coffee too?"
"Double milk, no sugar." His eyes fell on her lips. "Your taste has never changed."
Wen Mu clenched the pen in his hand: "Ming Yang, this is crossing the line."
"Really?" He straightened up and spread his hands innocently. "I just wanted to curry favor with the future project leader."
"No need." She said coldly, "Just do business as usual."
Ming Yang stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled: "Teacher Wen, are you still angry with me?"
Wen Mu: "I'm not angry."
"Then why don't you dare look at me?"
Wen Mu took a deep breath and finally looked him in the eye: "Because I was thinking about how to tell Professor Schmidt that I don't want to take you."
Ming Yang's smile froze for a moment.
"You hate me so much?"
"It's not that I hate it." Wen Mu closed the folder, "It's just that it's inappropriate."
"What's wrong?"
He suddenly reached out and lightly touched the wedding ring on her ring finger with his fingertips.
"Because of this?"
Wen Mu pulled his hand back abruptly: "Don't touch me."
Ming Yang withdrew his hand, his eyes darkening: "Sorry."
Silence stretched between the two.
Finally, Wen Mu picked up his bag and prepared to leave.
"The day you left," Ming Yang suddenly said, "you had the same back view."
Wen Mu paused.
"Without even turning back." His voice was filled with self-mockery. "You didn't even say goodbye."
"Because there's no need." Wen Mu didn't turn around. "You know why."
"I know." He said softly, "Because I am too young and too impulsive to be worthy of your calmness."
Wen Mu finally turned around and looked at him: "It's not that I'm not worthy."
"What is that?"
"It's inappropriate."
Her tone was unusually calm: "What you want is a passionate love. And I want someone who can walk side by side with me."
Ming Yang smiled: "So this person appears now?"
"Um."
"Is he good to you?"
"very good."
"Better than me?"
Wen Mu looked at him and suddenly smiled: "Nova, you have never been an option for me."
A crack finally appeared on Ming Yang's expression.
"How cruel, Teacher Wen," he whispered, "You won't even leave me with a fantasy."
“Because there’s no need.”
Wen Mu turned around and said, "It's time for you to grow up."
She pushed open the door. The hallway was dimly lit, and the summer night breeze streamed in through the open window, bringing a slightly warm, restless feeling. Her heart was beating faster, her palms slightly damp, but she didn't stop walking.
"Wen Mu." Ming Yang called her from behind.
She didn't look back.
"I'll still send you flowers," he said. "Just consider it an apology."
Wen Mu did not stop.
"No need."
Her voice dissipated in the summer night wind.
"My husband will be jealous."
"ha."
Ming Yang's voice came from behind.
"You really are married."
She didn't turn her head, but just turned her face slightly.
"Does it have anything to do with you?"
Ming Yang was silent for two seconds.
"No," he whispered. "No."
"I just...want to wish you well."
Wen Mu's fingers clenched the strap of the bag.
She said nothing, just nodded and walked quickly towards the stairwell.
At the end of the corridor, the night wind swayed the shadows of the trees, and in the distance, Lake Zurich shimmered with tiny ripples. The June air was hot and humid, clinging to my skin like a lingering dream.
She walked very fast, as if something was chasing her.
Not until she walked out of the teaching building and the night breeze completely blew away the faint scent of sandalwood did she stop and take a deep breath.
The phone vibrated in my pocket.
She took it out and the word "husband" appeared on the screen.
Wen Mu stared at the name for two seconds and suddenly smiled.
She pressed the answer button.
"Wife." Song Xingran's voice came through the receiver, with a familiar laziness and smile, "Why haven't you come home yet?"
Wen Mu looked up at the night sky.
The stars are like countless pairs of eyes staring at her.
"I'll be right back." she said softly.
"Did you miss me?"
"Um."
"What does um mean?"
"I thought about it."
Song Xingran laughed softly, his voice hoarse: "I miss you too."
Wen Mu closed his eyes and let the night breeze brush across his cheeks.
"Song Xingran."
"Um?"
"I want to eat the noodles you cook tonight."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then there was a rustling sound, as if he had suddenly sat up straight.
"Now?"
"Now."
"But I'm in Brussels—"
"I know." Wen Mu interrupted him, his eyes sore, "So, you owe me a bowl."
Song Xingran was silent for two seconds and then chuckled.
"Okay," he said, "I'll cook for you forever when I get back."
Wen Mu also laughed.
"good."
She hung up the phone and looked up at a window in the teaching building for the last time.
There, a slender figure stood quietly, his eyes distant and silent.
Wen Mu withdrew his gaze, turned and walked into the night.
This time, she didn't look back.
*
Gasoline's paws clattered on the floor as he rushed over with his tail in his mouth, his wet nose rubbing against Wenmu's trouser leg.
"Mom is back." She said softly, bending down and rubbing its head.
Gasoline did not pounce on her excitedly as usual. Instead, he tilted his head, stared at her with his bright black eyes, and made a low humming sound in his throat.
It seemed to sense her emotions, and it put its front paws on her knees and gently rubbed them twice, as if asking: Mom, what's wrong with you?
Wen Mu squatted down, buried his face in the fluffy hair of Gasoline, and took a deep breath.
"It's okay." She whispered, more like to comfort herself, "Mom is okay."
Outside the window, the night sky of Zurich shone like a galaxy of stars. In the distance, tall buildings shone brightly, neon lights streaming across glass curtain walls like a never-ending dream. But Wen Mu, standing before the French window, felt those lights were so distant, like they belonged to another world.
She suddenly felt very tired.
It wasn't physical fatigue, but something deeper - like a beach washed by the tide, leaving deep and shallow gullies that could not be smoothed out.
She walked over to the liquor cabinet, running her fingertips over the rows of bottles, finally stopping on a bottle of vodka.
Clear liquid, pure and strong.
She took out the glass, hesitated for a second, and put it back. She pried open the bottle cap and took a sip.
The alcohol burned like a knife, from her throat to her stomach. She choked, her eyes burning instantly, but she still took another sip, and then another.
The vodka had no taste, only a pure burning sensation. But it was this almost masochistic stimulation that briefly cleared her chaotic thoughts.
She walked to the sofa with the bottle of wine, sank into it, and took out her cell phone.
She scrolled through the WeChat list for a long time, until the screen automatically turned off. She turned it on again and continued scrolling.
Finally, she called Yu Mo.
“Beep—beep—”
The phone rang for a long time before it was picked up.
"Baby," Yu Mo's voice was thick with sleep, "Even if you miss me so much, you don't have to call me at three in the morning, right?"
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.
Yu Mo seemed to have noticed something, and her voice quickly regained consciousness: "What's wrong? What happened? Why aren't you talking?"
After a pause, she tentatively asked, "Did you have a fight with Song Xingran?"
After a while, Wen Mu said softly, "I met him."
There was a moment of silence.
A few seconds later, Yu Mo's voice became unusually clear: "...Ming Yang?"
"Um."
"In Zurich?"
"Um."
"……grass."
Yu Mo took a deep breath, and Wen Mu could hear the rustling sound of her turning over and sitting up: "What's going on? Why did he suddenly appear?"
"Professor Schmidt's project." Wen Mu's voice was very soft. "He is the new member."
"Did he recognize you?"
"I recognized you right away." Wen Mu smiled bitterly, "And you still call me 'Teacher Wen', just like before."
Yu Mo scratched her head in frustration from the other end of the line: "Son of a bitch!"
"What did he tell you?"
Wen Mu stared at the liquid swaying in the bottle. "He said he was the one who gave me the flowers and the coffee."
"What flowers? What coffee?"
"In the past month, flowers and coffee have always appeared on my desk." Wen Mu closed his eyes. "I thought they were sent by a classmate and didn't pay much attention to them."
Yu Mo cursed: "He followed you?"
"Probably not." Wen Mu shook his head, "He said it was an 'apology'."
"What's there to apologize for? For leaving without saying goodbye?" Yu Mo sneered, "It's been five years, and you're only now apologizing?"
Wen Mu didn't say anything.
"What else did he say?"
"He said..." Wen Mu's voice dropped, "The day I left, he didn't even say goodbye."
On the other end of the phone, Yu Mo was silent.
After a long while, she softly asked, "Amu, how do you feel now?"
Wen Mu raised her head and took another sip of wine. The alcohol made her eyes hot. "I'm annoyed."
"Bother him?"
"I'm fed up with all this." Her fingers unconsciously stroked the bottle, "I'm fed up with this time, this place, I'm fed up with..."
"Is Song Xingran not here?"
Wen Mu's fingertips paused.
"I don't know how to face him." She finally said, "If Song Xingran knew..."
"He'll go crazy," Yu Mo said flatly. "With his temper, he'll definitely beat Ming Yang so badly that his mother won't even recognize him."
Wen Mu smiled bitterly: "I know."
Yu Mo: "Are you going to tell him?"
"I don't know." Wen Mu rubbed his temples. "I don't want to hide it from him, but..."
"But you're afraid he'll misunderstand?"
"Um."
On the other end of the phone, Yu Mo sighed: "Amu, tell me honestly. How do you feel about Ming Yang now?"
Wen Mu was silent.
The alcohol slowed her thinking, but some memories became clearer.
Five years ago, late at night at the observatory, Ming Yang lay beside the telescope and said to her with a smile, "Teacher Wen, look at that star. Does it look like your eyes?"
In the laboratory, he always came uninvited, bringing two cups of coffee, one with double milk and no sugar, and one with full sugar and milk cap.
On a rainy day, he put his coat over her head and got soaked himself, but he was still smiling: "Teacher Wen, am I handsome?"
On the day of separation, he stood at the gate of ETH, his eyes dark and unclear: "Wen Mu, if I say now that I don't want to leave, will you keep me?"
And she just calmly responded: "Don't be childish, Nova."
"Amu?" Yu Mo's voice brought her back to reality.
"I don't know." Wen Mu finally said, "I don't hate him, nor do I blame him, but..."
"But when you see him, do you still think of the past?"
"Um."
Yu Mo was silent for a while: "Do you still remember why he left suddenly that year?"
Wen Mu tightened his fingers: "He told me that he wanted to pursue something more important."
"Bullshit!" Yu Mo sneered, "He clearly received an offer from MIT, but he just left without even saying hello."
"I know." Wen Mu said softly, "I heard about it later."
"Then why don't you blame him now?!"
"Because I think he's right."
Wen Mu said softly.
"He was too young and impulsive at the time and didn't know what he wanted."
"What about you?" Yu Mo asked, "Do you know what you want?"
Wen Mu was stunned.
"Five years ago, you rejected him because you thought he was not mature enough."
"What about now? If he changes, if he truly matures, will you waver?"
"No." Wen Mu answered the question almost immediately.
"I'm already married. I have a husband."
"Then why are you still so bothered?"
Wen Mu's voice choked: "Because I don't want the past to affect the present."
On the other end of the phone, Yu Mo sighed: "Amu, listen to me——"
Her words were suddenly interrupted by a gurgling sound.
"Amu?"
No response.
"Amu!"
A few seconds later, Wen Mu's weak voice came: "I'm fine, the wine is spilled."
Yu Mo then noticed the sound of glass colliding in the background: "Are you drinking?"
"Um."
"What are you drinking?"
"Vodka."
"You're crazy!" Yu Mo's voice suddenly rose. "You obviously can't drink, but you drank something so strong! Is your husband home?"
"No, he's at the game."
"Oh my God!" Yu Mo was frantic. "I'm telling you, you'd better not let Song Xingran know about this now, otherwise something really bad will happen."
Wen Mu smiled bitterly: "I know."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know." Wen Mu's voice was drunken. "I want to tell him, but I'm afraid he'll misunderstand that I still have feelings for Ming Yang."
"Amu, listen to me. Ming Yang suddenly showed up and deliberately approached you. He definitely has no good intentions."
"I know."
"So you have to confess to Song Xingran." Yu Mo's tone became serious, "But not now, not when you are drunk, and not during his competition."
Wen Mu didn't say anything.
"Wait until his game is over and you calm down, then you can have a proper talk with him." Yu Mo continued, "But before that, stay away from Ming Yang, understand?"
"Um."
"Also, stop drinking." Yu Mo's voice softened. "Go take a hot bath and get a good night's sleep. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
Wen Mu said "hmm" and hung up the phone.
The bottle is empty.
She tilted her head back and took the last sip, the alcohol burning her eyes so much that she felt dizzy.
Gasoline jumped onto the sofa and curled up beside her legs, its warm body pressed against hers. Wenmu reached out and touched its head, his consciousness gradually becoming blurred.
In a trance, she seemed to see the figure of a man.
Tall and upright, standing at the junction of light and shadow.
She couldn't tell whether it was Song Xingran or Ming Yang.
The outlines of the two people overlapped and separated in her drunken vision, finally turning into a chaotic darkness.
She closed her eyes and fell into a dream.
In her dream, someone whispered to her:
"Teacher Wen, who do you choose?"
*
Wen Mu was awakened by a sharp headache.
She opened her eyes, but everything was blurry and her throat felt dry as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper. The sunlight from outside the window shone through the gaps in the curtains, shining on her face. She subconsciously raised her hand to block it, but even this simple action made her temples throb.
the Hangover.
She blinked slowly, her gaze vacantly fixed on the ceiling. The phone on the bedside table lit up, showing 2:17 p.m. and 37 missed calls.
All from "husband".
Wen Mu closed her eyes, her fingers trembling slightly as she clicked through the call log. The most recent call was ten minutes ago. She took a deep breath and called back.
The call was connected almost immediately.
"Onmu!"
Song Xingran's voice exploded from the receiver, urgent and aggressive. The background was noisy, and the roar of the engine and the shouts of the staff could be faintly heard.
"What the hell is wrong with you?! You didn't answer the phone all night? Do you know how many times I called you?!"
The man's voice was like a blunt knife, scraping across her fragile nerves.
Wen Mu subconsciously moved the phone further away and squeezed out an inaudible response from his throat: "I'm sorry."
It's like pressing a pause button.
There was an instant silence on the other end of the phone.
After a few seconds, Song Xingran's voice suddenly became deeper, and the background noise disappeared, as if he had quickly walked to a quiet corner.
"Wife, what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, I had a bad attitude just now. I apologize."
Wen Mu said nothing. She stared at her hands resting on the quilt, her fingertips pale from exertion.
"Wife?" His tone changed completely, with obvious panic. "What happened? Where are you?"
"At home." Her voice was so soft that it was almost inaudible.
"Your voice isn't right." Song Xingran's speech became faster, and the sound of his breathing came clearly through the receiver. "Are you sick? Or is someone bothering you?"
"I'm fine."
"Just, I feel a little uncomfortable."
"Where do you feel uncomfortable?"
"Headache."
"Have you been drinking?"
Wen Mu didn't deny it. She slowly curled up and buried her face in her knees. She could hear rapid breathing on the other end of the line, as if she was suppressing her emotions.
After a while, Song Xingran finally spoke, his voice tense: "You never drink."
Wen Mu: “Yeah.”
"Why are you drinking suddenly?"
"I just want to drink."
"Wen Mu." The man's voice was frighteningly deep. "Did you know that when you lie, your speech speed slows down?"
Wen Mu's fingers clenched the quilt.
She felt her throat tighten, her eyes hot, and something was rushing around in her chest, but couldn't find a way out.
"I'll have the team doctor come over now," Song Xingran said without letting anyone know. The sound of his quick steps could be heard in the background. "Wait at home. Don't hang up."
"No." She refused immediately, her voice trembling with anxiety. "I just need a good sleep."
"you--"
"Really, no need." Her voice was soft, but filled with undeniable determination. "Just focus on your training and don't delay the competition."
There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds. Then there was a dull sound, like a fist hitting a wall.
"Video call."
"Let me take a look at you."
"don't want."
"Wen Mu!" His voice suddenly rose, then suddenly dropped, as if he was afraid of scaring her.
"Let me take a look at you."
"Please."
Wen Mu closed his eyes, and something warm liquid slid down from the corners of his eyes.
"Song Xingran." She said softly, "I'm fine, really."
A suppressed gasp came from the other end of the line, as if he was trying hard to control his emotions. Then there was a long silence, so long that Wen Mu thought the call was disconnected. Only then did he hear his hoarse voice: "I'm asking for leave for you. You are not allowed to go to school today."
Wen Mu: “Yeah.”
"Don't hang up."
"I'm fine, I'm hanging up now."
"Hello!"
She didn't wait for him to say anything else and pressed the hang-up button.
The room instantly fell silent, leaving only the sound of her own breathing and the restless whimpering of Gasoline.
Wen Mu slowly sat up, feeling dizzy and forced to hold onto the bedside table to steady herself. Her throat burned, her stomach churning, but she didn't even have the energy to go to the bathroom.
She stared at her hands, her fingertips trembling slightly.
What is she hiding from?
What is she afraid of?
Obviously nothing happened, and she clearly did nothing wrong, but she acted like a guilty criminal and didn't even dare to listen to Song Xingran's voice.
The phone suddenly vibrated, and Song Xingran's name flashed on the screen. Wen Mu stared at the name for a long time, but ultimately didn't answer.
After a while, a message popped up:
Mars Brother: [Answering the phone]
Then there is another one:
Mars Brother: [Please]
Wen Mu's fingertips hovered above the screen, not falling for a long time.
Mars: [No matter what happens, let's solve it together, okay?]
Her vision blurred.
The phone rang again, this time it was a video call request. Wen Mu took a deep breath and pressed the answer button.
Song Xingran's face appeared on the screen. He looked terrible. His black hair was a mess, sticking up in a tangled mess, there was a noticeable dark spot under his eyes, and his lips were pale from being tightly pursed. The background was the team's lounge, but he was standing alone in a corner, his brow furrowed.
The moment he saw her, the man's pupils suddenly contracted: "Are you crying?"
Wen Mu subconsciously touched his face and found that it was covered with tears.
She wiped it hurriedly, but the more she wiped, the more it appeared.
"What happened?" Song Xingran's voice was hoarse, as if he wanted to touch her through the signal. "Who bullied you?"
Wen Mu shook his head, speechless.
"Is work not going well?" he asked anxiously, "Or is there a problem with the project? Or -"
"Song Xingran." She interrupted him, her voice as soft as a sigh.
"I miss you."
The man on the other side of the screen was stunned.
His Adam's apple rolled and his eyes softened: "I miss you too."
"Did the competition go well?" She tried to make her voice sound normal.
"Don't change the subject." Song Xingran frowned, "Tell me what happened."
Wen Mu lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes casting a shadow on his face. "It's really nothing. I'm just a little tired."
"You, be careful."
"I'm hanging up."
*
Wen Mu still went to school.
She took a cold shower, forced herself to stay awake, and put on light makeup to cover her pale face, but the person in the mirror was still terribly haggard.
Schmidt's office door was ajar, and she knocked gently.
"Come in."
The old professor looked up and was stunned when he saw her: "Luna? Why do you look so bad?"
"I'm sorry, Professor," she whispered. "I felt a little unwell yesterday and was late for work."
Schmidt frowned. "You should stay home and rest."
"I'm fine." She forced a smile. "I've compiled the data analysis for Kepler-13b. Should I send it to you now?"
The professor stared at her for a few seconds, then finally sighed, "Okay, but don't get too worked up today."
Wen Mu nodded and turned to leave.
In the corridor, she bumped into someone head-on.
"Teacher Wen?"
Ming Yang's voice made her pause.
He was wearing a dark grey turtleneck shirt today, which made his outline even more distinct. He was holding a few heavy files in his hands and frowning at her: "You look bad."
"It's okay." She subconsciously took a step back, "Thank you for your concern."
Ming Yang didn't move aside, but took a step forward: "Are you having a fever?"
The moment his fingers were about to touch her forehead, Wen Mu suddenly moved sideways and avoided it: "I said, it's okay."
Ming Yang's hand froze in mid-air, and finally slowly let go.
"Feel sorry."
The atmosphere was a little stagnant for a moment.
"I've already sent the data analysis to the team's email." Wen Mu said businesslike, "You can always ask me if you have any questions."
She turned to leave, but Ming Yang suddenly asked, "Is it because of what happened yesterday?"
Wen Mu stopped.
"If my presence makes you uncomfortable," he said in a low voice, "I can withdraw from the project."
Wen Mu closed his eyes.
"No need," she said finally. "Just do business as usual."
She didn't look back and didn't see the darkness that flashed across Ming Yang's eyes.
At seven o'clock in the evening, Wen Mu finally couldn't hold on any longer.
Her head grew heavier, her vision blurred, and even her typing fingers became sluggish.
Sarah looked at her worriedly: "Luna, are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?"
Wen Mu shook his head: "I'll just go home and rest."
She reluctantly packed up her things and walked out of the teaching building. The night wind blew and she almost couldn't stand.
In the taxi, she leaned against the window, resting her forehead against the cool glass, trying to ease the burning sensation.
She has a fever.
This realization made her want to laugh.
Because of a reunion, because of a bottle of vodka, and because of a phone call, she had tortured herself into this state.
It's really not like her.
The apartment was pitch dark.
Wen Mu didn't even turn on the light, she just fell on the sofa, and she didn't even have the strength to respond when Jiayou came over to lick her hand.
The ceiling was spinning before her eyes, and she closed her eyes, only to feel as if the whole world was sinking.
She dreamed of ETH five years ago.
She dreamed that Ming Yang stopped her in the library and said with a smile, "Teacher Wen, can I pursue you?"
She dreamed that Song Xingran was standing by the racetrack, looking at her with raised eyebrows: "Who are you?"
The two figures intertwined in her dream and eventually turned into a chaotic darkness.
She felt herself falling.
Keep falling.
There is a bottomless abyss beneath me.
So dark, so tall.
She was scared, she was really scared.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her hand.
"Onmu!"
That voice sounds so familiar.
She tried desperately to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt heavy as if they were filled with lead.
"Wenmu! Wake up!"
She doesn't want to fall.
don't want.
She tried her best and finally opened her eyes——
My vision blurred for a moment, then gradually became clear.
Song Xingran's face was close to her, his brows furrowed, his eyes filled with anxiety. His lips were moving, but she couldn't hear what he was saying.
She suddenly felt like crying.
"Song Xingran..."
Her voice was hoarse and her fingers trembled as she grasped the man's collar.
"I am here."
"Wife, I'm here."
The next second, she hugged the man's neck and buried herself in his arms.
"You're really back."
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The author has something to say: Teacher Wen is really upset [burst into tears]
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