disappear
On the day Yunheng was discharged from the hospital, Yu Xiao stood under the sycamore tree downstairs of the hospital's inpatient department for a full six hours.
The morning dew soaked his trouser legs, but he was oblivious. He simply stared toward the inpatient department's main entrance, clutching two high-speed rail tickets to Yunheng's hometown. He had asked his assistant to rush the tickets the night before, and the seats were next to each other, with the window seat reserved for Yunheng. He remembered that Yunheng loved watching the scenery pass by the window, saying it was like "riding a train through a wheat field."
He imagined countless encounters. Perhaps Yun Heng would turn away indifferently, perhaps frown and avoid him from a distance, or even have the nurses stop him outside. But it didn't matter. He had already made up his mind. Even if he was followed like a madman, even if he could only drive behind the ambulance from a distance, he had to let Yun Heng know that he truly wanted to follow him to the wheat field.
But until the sun climbed to the zenith and then slowly set in the west, the revolving door turned countless times, but he still did not see the thin figure in the wheelchair.
"Mr. Yu." The assistant came running over breathlessly, a large sweat stain on the back of his white shirt. In his hand was a sweat-soaked notepaper. "The nurse said... Mr. Yun took the old lady away early this morning. He didn't say where he was going, just asked me to return this to you."
The edge of the notepaper was curled, and on it was the nurse's beautiful handwriting: "Mr. Yun said that the ring should be returned to its original owner, and from now on, they owe each other nothing."
Wrapped in the note was a plain ring, the cool metal against his palm. Yu Xiao picked up the ring, rubbing his fingertips repeatedly along the inside—where the characters "Heng Xiao" were engraved, the strokes polished to a shine yet still clear.
This is not the one that was washed away by the waves.
He recognized this one. It was secretly made after Yun Heng withdrew from the competition. When he found it under his partner's pillow, he naively thought it was a sign that Yun Heng had finally given in, and hid it in his pocket, secretly rejoicing for days. Only now did he understand that it wasn't a sign of surrender; it was a long-prepared farewell. He waited for the right moment to return the traces of "Yu Xiao" to him once and for all.
"We owe each other nothing..." Yu Xiao repeated these four words in a low voice, his throat dry and sore as if rubbed by sandpaper. He suddenly remembered Yun Heng's words on the hospital bed, "We're clear." It turned out that these words weren't spoken in anger, but a carefully considered decision. This person was truly to be uprooted from his world, leaving not a trace behind.
He started looking for someone like crazy.
He had his assistant search the entire city for high-speed rail tickets, flight information, and long-distance bus registrations, even using his connections to retrieve surveillance footage from around the hospital. But Yunheng seemed to have planned all her escape routes in advance. The surveillance footage captured the ambulance turning onto a side road devoid of cameras at a suburban intersection before disappearing completely. The caregiver's phone number was no longer in service, and the studio staff collectively submitted their resignations. Even the doctor who was responsible for changing the elderly woman's dressings only knew they had been "transferred to a rehabilitation center out of town."
What worried him most was the wheat fields in his hometown.
The photos the assistant sent back showed a plowed field of newly sprouted wheat seedlings. Farmers from a neighboring village stood on the ridge, loading farm tools onto a tractor. "Mr. Yun had someone sell the land to him for a low price," the assistant's voice trembled over the phone. "He said...he said he wouldn't be coming back."
Yu Xiao stood in Yun Heng's empty studio, looking at the poster on the wall that he hadn't had time to tear down. It was a photo of Yun Heng when she debuted. She was wearing a white shirt, standing in a golden wheat field, smiling brightly. In the lower right corner of the poster were small words: "My dream is to let more people hear the voice of the wheat field."
Now, the dream is shattered and the person is gone.
He raised his hand and slammed his fist against the wall. The drywall made a dull thud, and his knuckles bled, but he felt no pain. Only a huge panic surged up from his feet like a tide, drowning him.
He had always thought he was in control. He could use capital to build a star-studded avenue, use power to block all escape routes, and make everyone act according to his will. But in the end, he couldn't even keep one person who was determined to leave.
When we returned to the villa, it was already dark.
The crystal chandelier in the living room was on, its light dazzling to the point of being blinding. Yunheng's guitar, which he hadn't taken with him, lay against the sofa, its petals gleaming from the caressing of the small daisy he had carved on it. In the kitchen refrigerator, half a bag of Yunheng's favorite strawberry-flavored frozen dumplings remained frozen. The expiration date on the package read "2025.06.15," meaning it was yesterday. In the second-floor study, on the third shelf of the bookshelf, sat the only photo of the two of them together—taken during the filming of "Field Adventure." Yunheng was pinned down by him in the wheat field, her face stained with dirt, but her eyes curved into crescents in a smile, clutching a handful of freshly plucked wheat ears.
These things were like fine needles, pricking his chest and making him feel stuffy and breathless.
"Bang--"
Yu Xiao swung his hand violently, sweeping the glass vase off the coffee table. Shards of celadon, mixed with rose petals, scattered across the floor. The crisp crackling echoed in the empty living room, like the outburst of something long suppressed.
He started smashing things crazily like a trapped animal out of control.
He grabbed the guitar and slammed it to the ground. The strings snapped with a sharp sound, and the wooden body split in two, like a heart being split open. He rushed into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door, and dumped out the frozen dumplings, yogurt, and Yunheng's uneaten whole-wheat bread. Wrappers and food crumbs splattered everywhere.
"Go! Everyone, go!" He growled, his voice hoarse as a broken bellows. "Do you think I'm worth anything? I have plenty of money, plenty of..."
He didn't finish his words as his eyes swept across the electronic calendar on the living room wall. The screen showed June 16th, Yunheng's birthday. Last year on this day, he had booked the entire rooftop restaurant and given her a diamond necklace, but Yunheng had simply frowned and said, "That's too expensive. I don't need it." At the time, he had thought he was being pretentious, but now he understood that Yunheng had never wanted anything like that.
He staggered up to the second floor and kicked open the door of the room where Yunheng had lived.
There were still a few white shirts hanging in the closet, their collars scented with Yunheng's usual laundry detergent, a faint herbal aroma. Yu Xiao ripped the shirts off, clutching them in his hands and tearing at them fiercely. The fabric sizzled, as if silently weeping. In a frame on the desk was a photo of Yunheng and his grandmother. He picked up the frame, his fingers hovering over the glass, but he couldn't bring himself to smash it down. Yunheng in the photo had a soft smile, her eyes brighter than the stars.
"Why..." He muttered to himself in the empty room, his voice choked with sobs that he himself didn't even notice, "Why do I have to leave..."
He turned the room upside down, flipping up the mattress, scattering books from the bookshelf, and even dragging out the storage box under the bed. The box contained Yun Heng's pre-debut belongings: yellowed high school textbooks, music theory books filled with annotations, and a thick stack of draft paper covered with unfinished lyrics.
At the bottom is a lyrics book.
The cover was made of kraft paper, the edges frayed and rough. It featured a small wheat field, the waves rendered as wavy lines, and the words "Yun Heng's Little World" were scribbled crookedly next to it. Yu Xiao recognized it—it was the one Yun Heng had used when he first joined the company. He'd even teased him about it, saying it was "so tacky, unworthy of a top star."
At that time, Yunheng just hid the lyrics book in her arms with a red face, without refutation or anger.
Yu Xiao picked it up as if possessed, blew off the dust and opened it.
It was filled with lyrics, written in neat, beautiful handwriting. Next to each song was a small wheat pattern, and some were labeled "Suitable for singing in a wheat field" and "Grandma would love it." When I turned to the middle pages, a folded piece of letter fell out and landed lightly on the ground.
He bent down, picked it up, and unfolded it.
It's an unfinished love letter.
The letter was made of ordinary manuscript paper, a little frayed at the edges. The handwriting was a bit sloppier than on the lyrics book, as if written hastily, yet also hesitantly. It began with the words "Yu Xiao," followed by a few words that had been repeatedly crossed out, and one could vaguely make out "I seem... a little..."
Further down, there are only a few intermittent sentences:
"The song 'Rose' you sang on stage today was actually very nice. Although I still think it's not as beautiful as the sound of the wind in the wheat fields."
"Thank you for pulling me behind you when the reporters gathered around just now. Your hands were very hot and I was a little panicked."
"The nurse said that grandma's wheat is almost ripe. It's a golden field, like an ocean. If you're willing, I'd like to take you to see it after the competition is over."
"They all say you're hard to approach, but I think..."
The words at the end were heavily crossed out, and the ink had seeped through the back of the paper, leaving only a black mark. Next to it was a small wheat ear, and the wheat ear was painted crookedly, as if tears had been dripped on it, spreading the ink.
There is no signature or date.
But Yu Xiao recognized the time when the letter was written at a glance - it was the third day after the end of the Sangong stage.
That day, he ran into Yun Heng at the practice room door. She was clutching a lyric booklet, and upon seeing him, she frantically hid behind her back, her ears red as if they were about to bleed. At the time, he'd thought it was just a child being naughty and had deliberately teased her a few times. Only now did he realize it wasn't a tantrum, it was clearly a hidden feeling she couldn't express out loud.
It turns out that Yun Heng also had a good impression of him.
It turned out that Yunheng had also thought about taking him to see the wheat field.
It turned out that Yun Heng had once felt at some point that he might not be as cold as the rumors said.
But this cautious goodwill was crushed by his own hands.
He used "resource swaps" to force Yun Heng to stay, threatened him with his grandmother's medical expenses, destroyed his last bit of trust with his drunken outburst, and pushed him to the brink with all the negative information online. He always thought that as long as he kept someone by his side, he would eventually make them "see their place." However, he never considered that Yun Heng never wanted a top position, but just a piece of land where he could grow wheat in peace.
"ah--"
Yu Xiao let out a suppressed roar, like a wounded animal howling in the dead of night. He pressed the unfinished love letter to his chest, squatted on the ground, and his shoulders began to tremble violently.
Tears fell without warning, landing hotly on the yellowed letter paper, blurring the beautiful handwriting and also blurring his belated, unresolved regret. He smashed everything and tore up all traces, but when he saw this love letter that had been hidden for so long, he was completely defeated.
It turns out that possessions built up with money and power are never real ownership.
He could buy the best recording studio, silence the entire internet, and tie Yun Heng's name to his, but he couldn't keep the young man who just wanted to take him to listen to the wind in the wheat fields. He thought money could buy everything and power could control everything, but in the face of sincerity, these things were as ridiculous as a joke.
Outside the window, the rain had begun to fall at some point. The pea-sized raindrops pounded against the glass, making a dull thud, as if accompanying this belated awakening. Yu Xiao, clutching the lyrics book with the wheat field in its picture, curled up on the cold floor like a lost child.
The room was in a mess, broken glass reflected the pale light, torn shirts were scattered all over the floor, and only the lyrics book was tightly grasped by him. The wheat field on the cover was blurred in the darkness, but it was like the last bit of light in his life, which was extinguished by his own hands.
For the first time, he realized so clearly that—
Some things cannot be kept just by having money and power.
For example, the wind blowing through the wheat fields, the unfinished love letter, and the boy named Yunheng.
And he was lost forever.
The rain grew heavier, shrouding the entire city in a damp darkness. The lights in the villa stayed on all night, only to slowly go out at dawn, like a star that had finally run out of power.
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