Chapter 28 More than two years have passed since we last met.
International Arrivals Hall, Terminal 3, Beijing Capital International Airport.
In February, the air in Beijing was still crisp and cold. Through the huge floor-to-ceiling glass curtain wall, one could see busy airplanes and ground support vehicles on the tarmac, and the city skyline faintly visible under the hazy sky in the distance.
Huo Yanli stood on the outskirts of the crowd waiting to greet passengers, leaning against a pillar, holding his phone as if dealing with work emails. Today, he wore a dark gray cashmere coat over a neatly pressed white shirt and black trousers. He was tall and had a cool demeanor, making him seem somewhat out of place in the bustling airport terminal.
He was forced to come by the old man.
At seven o'clock in the morning, the old man called, his voice leaving no room for doubt: "Zhiyi's flight arrives at noon today, go and pick her up."
Huo Yanli had just finished a multinational video conference and rubbed his temples: "Just have the driver pick her up. Or she can take a taxi herself."
"No way." The old man's tone was firm. "You are her husband. You haven't seen her for more than two years. What's wrong with going to pick her up? Don't give me that five-year agreement. At least for now, she is still your legal wife."
Huo Yanli wanted to argue, but hearing the old man's hoarse and stubborn voice on the other end of the phone, he finally gave in.
"What time? Which flight?"
He's here now. I've been waiting for twenty minutes.
My phone vibrated; it was a WeChat message from the old man: "Have you arrived yet? Don't give me a hard time; pick them up properly."
Huo Yanli didn't reply. He locked the screen and put his phone back in his coat pocket. He looked up towards the exit, where the electronic screen displayed arrival information for various flights. LX196, arriving from Geneva, was scheduled to arrive at 11:40, and its status was "Arrived."
Ten minutes later, passengers began to emerge with their luggage carts. The crowd of people waiting to pick up passengers stirred; some held up signs, others waved, and there were hugs, kisses, and laughter of reunion—these mundane scenes of warmth seemed somewhat jarring to Huo Yanli.
He straightened up and searched the crowd with his eyes.
Then, he saw her.
I recognized it almost at first glance.
It's not because it's anything special—quite the opposite, it's because it's nothing special at all.
Song Zhiyi was pushing a medium-sized, dark gray suitcase. The suitcase looked old, with wear and tear on the corners. She was wearing a long, off-white down jacket, the kind that was very ordinary and had no brand logo. It reached her calves and covered her completely. Dark trousers and a pair of black flat ankle boots were visible beneath the down jacket.
She wasn't wearing makeup, her face was bare, and her skin was very fair, almost translucent under the bright airport lights. Her hair was tied in a low ponytail, with a few wisps of hair framing her forehead. Perhaps she was a little tired from the long flight, her expression was very calm. But she still walked with an upright posture, her back straight, her gaze calmly fixed ahead, not searching among the crowd of people waiting to greet her, as if she had just completed an ordinary journey.
She pushed her suitcase and walked out unhurriedly, like a drop of water merging into a river, naturally flowing into the crowd, yet inexplicably... she was noticeable at a glance.
As Huo Yanli watched her get closer and closer, a complex feeling suddenly welled up in his heart.
It's been more than two years.
More than two years ago at the Civil Affairs Bureau, she was dressed the same way: white shirt, black trousers, clean and neat. She signed the papers and turned to leave.
More than two years later, she returned, wrapped in a thick down jacket, travel-worn, yet still... unusually calm.
It was as if she had only been away on a business trip for the past two years. It was as if their marriage contract was nothing more than a contract that needed to be maintained periodically.
Song Zhiyi walked to the vicinity of the exit and finally stopped. She took out her phone from her down jacket pocket, probably to check messages or call a taxi. Then, she looked up, her gaze sweeping across the crowd.
Then, her gaze settled on Huo Yanli.
Their eyes met.
Separated by a distance of more than ten meters, by a bustling crowd, and by two years.
Huo Yanli noticed her visibly startled, a fleeting look of surprise crossing his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. She put away her phone, pushed her suitcase, and walked towards him.
The soles of her ankle boots made a soft, rhythmic scraping sound as they touched the smooth floor, almost drowned out by the noise of the airport terminal. She walked slowly, but each step was steady.
Finally, she stopped in front of him.
The two were about a meter apart, neither too far nor too close, just the safe distance between strangers.
"Mr. Huo," Song Zhiyi said, her voice a little hoarse, probably from the long flight and the dry cabin air, "Why are you here?"
Her tone was calm, as if she were asking an ordinary question, without any surprise, emotion, or even polite thanks.
Huo Yanli looked at her. More than two years had passed since he last saw her. She had lost some weight, her jawline was more defined, and there were faint dark circles under her eyes, but her eyes were still clear and calm, like two deep pools, unfathomable.
“Grandpa asked me to pick you up,” he replied, trying to keep his voice calm.
Song Zhiyi nodded, as if this answer was expected. She glanced behind him: "Are you alone?"
"Um."
“Thank you for your help,” she said, then paused and added, “Just take me to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs dormitory. You should know the address.”
She spoke so naturally, as if it were the most normal thing in the world—her husband picking her up from the airport and taking her home. But Huo Yanli sensed the distance in her voice: she didn't ask "Where are you going?", "How's home?", or even "How did you know I was on my flight today?"
She simply told him the destination, like a passenger telling a driver where to go.
Huo Yanli's complex emotions surged again. He nodded: "The car is outside. Give me the luggage."
He reached out to take her suitcase. Song Zhiyi hesitated for a moment, then let go of her hand: "Thank you."
The box wasn't heavy, so Huo Yanli pulled it and turned to walk towards the exit. Song Zhiyi followed half a step behind him, neither walking side by side nor saying a word.
The two walked one after the other through the airport terminal toward the parking lot. The atmosphere was awkwardly silent, yet somehow...it seemed perfectly natural.
Yes, what can a "couple" who haven't seen each other for more than two years say to each other?
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