On a winter morning, it gets light late.
Xu Lan pushed open the door of "New Tide" magazine; the wall clock had just passed seven.
The central air conditioning wasn't on yet, but a chill crept up my trouser leg.
She rubbed her hands together, about to turn on the light, but her gaze was drawn to the end of the corridor.
A dim, yellowish light shone through the frosted glass of the editor-in-chief's office.
She frowned and walked towards the editor-in-chief's office.
The door was just pushed open a crack,
A choking blue smoke hit her face, causing Xu Lan to cough.
"Editor-in-chief?"
Xu Lan pushed open the door and was startled by what she saw inside.
Wang De'an did not go home.
He was still wearing the same gray wool sweater from yesterday, and there were two dark circles under his eyes.
His stubble was sticking out, making him look somewhat dejected.
But the ashtray in front of him was already piled high with cigarette butts.
He still had a half-smoked cigarette burning down to his fingers between his fingers.
On the desk in front of him, several printed A4 sheets of paper were spread out.
The edges of the paper were frayed, clearly indicating that it had been repeatedly rubbed.
"They're here."
Wang De'an's voice was hoarse.
He didn't look up, his gaze still fixed on the few sheets of paper, as if trying to see every word on them.
"You...you haven't slept all night?"
Xu Lan walked over and opened the window a crack.
A cold wind blew in, dispersing some of the smoke.
Wang De'an stubbed out his cigarette in the already overflowing ashtray.
He picked up the now-cold, strong tea beside him, took a sip, and let out a long sigh:
"I can't sleep, I've finished watching it."
Xu Lan's gaze instantly locked onto the few frayed A4 sheets of paper on the table.
The title immediately catches the eye—"The Ferryman": The Final Chapter.
Her breath hitched, and she didn't even have time to ask whether it was good or bad.
His body reacted faster than his brain, and he immediately reached out and picked up the stack of manuscript papers.
"Editor-in-chief, what was the ending...?"
Xu Lan asked tentatively.
"Is it a tragedy? Based on the foreshadowing before Jian Shen, Dylan and Tristan are separated by life and death, so they are destined to be separated, right?"
Wang De'an didn't say anything, but simply pushed the papers in front of Xu Lan.
"See for yourself."
Xu Lan took it with a puzzled look.
A deathly silence fell over the office.
The only sounds were the wind outside the window and the crisp sound of paper turning.
Until the very end.
Xu Lan's gaze lingered on the last line of text.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi." She smiled, tears streaming down her face.
There were no flowery words, nor any heart-wrenching sentimentality.
It's just a simple "Hi".
Xu Lan felt as if something had punched her hard in the chest.
It was sour and astringent, yet incredibly clear.
She put down her manuscript, looked up at Wang De'an, and her eyes were a little red:
"He...he let him come back?"
"Yes, I'm back."
Wang De'an leaned back in his chair and shook another cigarette out of his pack.
But he didn't light it; he just held it under his nose and smelled it.
"I read it six times."
Six times?
Xu Lan was surprised.
"The first time I read it, I thought he was being ridiculous. The rules of the wasteland are ironclad, how can they be broken just for the sake of love? It doesn't make sense in reality."
Wang De'an closed his eyes and spoke slowly.
"The second time, I saw Dylan's courage."
On the third reading, I understood Tristan's fear.
He paused, opened his eyes, and his gaze deepened:
"It wasn't until the sixth time that I started to understand something else."
He's not being silly, that's called ambition.
"Ambition?"
"He's not writing a love story at all; he's writing about going home!"
Wang De'an pointed to the manuscript.
"Our generation always feels that tragedy is sophisticated and incompleteness is profound."
But he insisted on piecing the two most shattered pieces back together.
Let them be wounded, yet still dare to smile at this messed-up world.
That energy is too wild.
Wang De'an gave a self-deprecating laugh:
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