Chapter 1 Returning to China, she can save herself.
It's Frost's Descent again, but for Ye Yuying, it's nothing special anymore.
The plane on its way back to China encountered a cold front from Siberia, and the plane was rocked by the turbulence for quite some time, causing considerable panic.
Ye Yuying had been working through the night for two consecutive nights to handle matters related to her return to China and remote meetings. She put on an eye mask and went straight to sleep after boarding the plane, only remembering a period of noise during which she fell asleep.
Ultimately, the plane weathered the crisis and flew smoothly. When the passenger next to her vividly recounted the harrowing experience halfway through the flight, she opened her mouth slightly, showing only a very slight surprise.
"It turns out we just went through a life-or-death ordeal," she summarized cooperatively, her tone almost flat.
"Aren't you afraid?" the middle-aged woman across from me asked in surprise.
Ye Yuying thought about it seriously for a while, then shook her head as if she remembered something, and said with a faint smile, "I'm afraid we can't avoid it anyway, let nature take its course."
The passenger opposite her seemed quite dissatisfied with her overly calm reaction, as if his carefully prepared dramatic effect had failed to materialize. He shook his head, looked away, and continued watching the movie.
Ye Yuying didn't take the incident to heart. She turned to look out the window. That's how it is on red-eye flights. Even if you open the window, you can only see darkness and stare at your reflection in the glass.
If you had asked her the same question before the car accident, she might have said she was scared, but after the accident four years ago, her answer changed.
The car accident crushed her pelvis, injured her lumbar spine, and also affected her nerves.
The doctor said it was a miracle she survived; as for the rest—whether she could walk or recover—that was up to fate.
She lay in bed for six months, only able to consume liquids, and underwent six surgeries—pelvic reconstruction, lumbar decompression, and nerve repair—each one feeling like her body was being disassembled and then stitched back together.
With the added burden of long-term rehabilitation, she can at best look like a normal person.
It's just a mimicry; she's doing well in her rehabilitation, but needing crutches for half the time of her life isn't enough to make her panic.
The most tormenting thing is the chronic neuralgia that accompanies you for the rest of your life.
She may need to undergo further reconstructive surgery in the future, and it will be very difficult for her to fully recover and be able to run and jump again; that would require a miracle.
The plane landed smoothly. It was a cloudy day in Jiangcheng. Looking out the window, the grass beside the runway was already covered with frost. The cold weather had arrived silently.
Whether it was psychological or not, she felt a dull ache in her bones whenever she saw such a scene.
It might be because of the long-term neuralgia, or it might be because—when I met Cheng Mingdu at the age of thirteen, the weather was also like this.
Eight years ago, she left without saying goodbye, on a day with similar weather.
The day of Frost's Descent was truly special; in her long twenty-six years of life, both the greatest fortune and the greatest misfortune occurred on such a day.
She first met him on a day like this, and her heart fluttered. In the warm room, she leaned against the French windows, witnessing the darkness, the cold wind whipping the roadside billboards, the chaos outside, and the stuffy, disorganized interior, where figures intertwined...
Her voice drowned out the howling wind outside the window, calling his name in a broken and hoarse voice in the chaotic night. Her obsession with Cheng Mingdu filled her entire adolescence, and everything that happened between them, those burning touches, never felt real to her for a moment.
Even though he hugged her from behind again and again, kissing her passionately until her heart ached, she still couldn't believe it was real.
Ultimately, it was in this kind of weather that she lost him.
Memories always make my throat feel uncomfortable. The cabin door opened, and the temperature inside the plane dropped slightly. My body started to feel the prelude to pain in the weather.
She leaned back in her seat with her eyes closed, and only after most of the passengers in front of her had gotten off did she slowly stand up, take her cane and coat from the luggage rack, and do all her things quickly and decisively without any extra emotion.
Standing at the cabin door, a cold wind rushed in, carrying the dampness and haze unique to Jiangcheng's winter. Ye Yuying let out a long breath and pulled up the collar of her down jacket, trying to keep out the chill.
The airplane announcements were reporting the weather and temperature, but she didn't listen to any of it. All she wanted was to get her luggage quickly before the pain became unbearable and she could make contact with the assistant who was supposed to pick her up.
After walking a few steps, she hesitated for a moment, then took out a painkiller from her bag, put it under her tongue, and held it in her mouth with the practiced ease of breathing.
She's not just experiencing objective pain; it's a conditioned reflex of her body—her nerves tend to twitch when the weather gets cold. She doesn't want people to see her collapsing in pain on her first trip back to China in eight years.
Especially the city where the plane landed—this is Jiangcheng, a place she can't avoid if she wants to start a business in the technology field after graduation.
Starting a business inevitably involves Jiangcheng, and being in Jiangcheng... means inevitably encountering the now-famous Cheng Mingdu.
This trip back to China is not for Cheng Mingdu, nor for those family ties that have already vanished.
It was for a turnaround battle, a battle that had to be won.
She was unknown when she left Jiangcheng. Eight years later, she completed her studies and entered the workforce. Later, she left to work independently and formed her own research and development team.
She hopes that domestic investors can fully understand her team.
Upon arriving at the airport entrance, she pulled her collar tighter, wishing she could cover even her eyes. The cold had a significant impact on her health, and she had to do everything she could to keep warm.
After doing all this, she finally stepped into this familiar yet unfamiliar city, as if she had made up her mind.
The crew helped her push her luggage, and the sound of her light cane hitting the floor tiles was clear and crisp.
She glanced down at her phone—
The assistant sent the license plate number of the driver picking me up, along with a reminder:
There's a bit of traffic at the airport entrance because the Asia Robotics Summit opens tomorrow, and all the big names from various industries are expected to land around the same time. We're on our way!
Ye Yuying had just finished reading the message and replied "Got it" when she quickly put her phone back in her pocket. A hurried figure, not looking where they were going, bumped into her arm, and the phone flew out of her hand.
The other party apologized repeatedly. Ye Yuying saw that the other party was holding a TV microphone and thought that he was probably going to interview some celebrity, so she didn't pursue the matter.
When the crew saw that she had difficulty moving, they stopped and helped her pick up her phone.
In the midst of the bustling crowd, she saw a man in a black coat step out from where she had just been standing...
He wasn't wearing a hat; a gray turtleneck sweater peeked out from under his long black coat. His profile was calm and handsome, and his pace, though not fast, had its own rhythm.
It was a posture that could be recognized without needing to look back to confirm.
Even after eight years, even amidst a crowded scene, she still recognized him at a glance.
—Cheng Mingdu.
The world fell silent without warning.
The phone was handed to her, and the crew member quietly reminded her, "Ms. Ye, this is your phone."
She nodded subconsciously, but her gaze never left the figure in front of her.
He was surrounded by several people as he walked out of the VIP passage. His steps were steady, his eyes were indifferent, and he exuded the aloofness and detachment of someone who had long been accustomed to the world of power.
He was almost identical to the man I remembered, yet seemed even sharper. However, his manners remained the same, and he would politely nod to the crew members who opened the door.
Instead of immediately turning away, she stood still and watched him walk towards her, getting closer and closer...
He was probably waiting for some kind of verification—to see if the past eight years had left any trace in his eyes.
But he simply walked past her without his gaze lingering on her for a moment.
There was no surprise, no ripples, and no recognition of her.
She was just one of the countless strangers he passed by on his journey.
The wind behind her blew harder at this moment, as if to wrap her up tighter, or to cover up some kind of momentary daze on her face.
A gust of cold wind blew, and the painkillers miraculously lost their effectiveness. Half of her face behind the collar of her down jacket trembled slightly. She looked away, switched her cane to her other hand, and her expression returned to calm.
I glanced down at my phone; the screen was shattered, the fragments cutting across the starry sky and ocean depicted on the screensaver.
She stared at the cracks in the screen for a few seconds, as if looking at a faded image of an old scene.
Her screensaver is a star map she took at an observatory in Chile a few years ago, showing the Milky Way rolling with the light that hadn't yet fallen, now shattered by cracks, just like her now.
She closed her phone without frowning or sighing.
I simply put it gently into my bag.
It was as if that sudden surge of discomfort and emotion was also stuffed into it.
The airport announcements blared overhead. She watched as the crowd at the exit dispersed faster and faster, like an old scar being repeatedly pressed by the cold wind. Even the oldest wounds began to ache.
She didn't chase after the figure, but instead walked in the opposite direction, leaning on her cane.
This isn't a question of who forgot whom first.
Rather, from the moment she left without saying goodbye, she was prepared to become complete strangers.
Even though she returned to Jiangcheng years later through a different path, seemingly pulled back to square one by fate, this time she no longer hoped that anyone would come to save her.
She can save herself now.
The moment Ye Yuying turned around, the man in the crisp coat also paused. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the figure wrapped in a down jacket in the crowd, leaning on a cane, moving slowly and calmly.
He frowned slightly, as if recalling the only eyes that were visible beneath the thick down jacket he was wrapped up in during that fleeting moment when they passed each other.
Those eyes were unfamiliar yet composed, unlike the ones I remembered.
But it felt strangely familiar, not in appearance, but in a certain aura.
Just as some memories cannot be concealed by changes in facial features, no matter how deeply they are buried, there will always be a moment when they unexpectedly brush past someone and briefly strike them.
The secretary beside him noticed something was wrong and whispered, "Mr. Cheng, the car has arrived."
He snapped out of his reverie and nodded.
"Let's go."
After saying that, he continued walking as if nothing had happened, his tall figure stretched by the wind and disappearing into the distance.
Ye Yuying, however, had already stepped into the early winter night breeze of Jiangcheng through another exit.
Her car arrived too.
Her assistant opened the back door for her, and before she got in, she glanced back at the airport exit one last time.
That direction was already deserted.
A note from the author:
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The urban setting is interspersed with memories of school days…
The male and female protagonists are siblings from a blended family, six years apart in age, who were separated for eight years before reuniting.
It's not too angsty; it'll probably continue my previous style—a mix of sadness and healing, with elements of redemption. My column is called "Redemption Specialist," so I can't avoid the topic of redemption, haha.
I'll add more later if I think of anything else.
Finally, please bookmark this page!
Completed old works
His Sonatas - Two Musicians
Halo: Male racer and female mechanic
The Doctor and Heart Patient in "The Land of Dry Bones"
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