Spring arrived unusually early that year, as if foreshadowing something.
The snow had long melted, and trees that had stood in silence for months began to sprout tender buds, unfolding into pale-green leaves. Before long, the streets on both sides were lush with new life.
In this season of revival, Lin Wan's condition also improved day by day.
Her complexion grew rosier; her expressions more animated; her words more plentiful—
As though branches buried under a winter of snow were finally tinged with vibrant green again.
Li Jin said Lin Wan was strong.
And she added, "Mr. Chen, you've done very well."
A Jin thought so too.
In fact, he had done so well that even he sometimes couldn't believe it was himself.
More than once, while washing up, he would suddenly look into the mirror just to confirm that the face staring back was still his.
Lin Wan grew livelier and bolder.
Talking back to him became routine.
She would roll her eyes, complain that he nagged too much, and even call him an "old auntie."
Once, she almost made him blow his top.
"The hell—'auntie'? If anything, I should be the dad," he snapped, eyes wide.
Lin Wan answered with a bright smile.
"These days, even men can be nurses. Why can't you be an auntie?"
"I am a man," he huffed. "I've almost forgotten it myself."
And wasn't it true?
Just to build a good image in her heart, he had been eating vegetarian meals for months.
The man who never valued "self-restraint" had now developed a sort of ascetic cleanliness—
Even when desire gnawed at him, he never once considered going out to vent it on someone else.
Sun Wukong said, "Throw up long enough, and you get used to it."
A Jin now thought, Hold it long enough, and you will get used to it.
But this world always had people who loved stirring chaos.
Some big mouth started calling him "the Perfect Boyfriend,"
And the nickname spread through the circle almost instantly.
Just because he had skipped gatherings several times?
Because he had casually mentioned picking Lin Wan up after work?
Or because he once excused himself during a dinner party just to call her?
Fine. If that was his fate, then so be it. Twenty-four-filial-boyfriend it was.
But he did like the word boyfriend.
—
Once, he actually made time to meet up with a few buddies.
As usual, the private room was filled with beautiful women.
The woman beside him leaned against him like she had lost her spine.
His friends demanded he make up for his previous absences:
Three penalty drinks plus a lovers' toast with the girl next to him.
Normally, A Jin wouldn't care—he'd played far wilder games before.
Men were men; sometimes, putting on a performance was part of the script.
But when that woman's soft body pressed against him,
A strange urge to pull away shot through him.
He suppressed it—only to be assaulted by her overpowering perfume.
He barely managed not to spit his drink on her and instead choked violently, coughing for half a minute.
After the gathering, everyone left with a woman on their arm.
A Jin opened his wallet, pulled out a stack of cash, and handed it to the girl beside him.
She seemed offended, clutching his sleeve with wide, glistening eyes.
"Am I not good?"
He smiled.
You're good.
But the one waiting at my home… is better.
—
On the way back, he received a call from Fang Zheng.
"A Jin, you're falling deeper and deeper. Can you still walk away?"
He couldn't remember his reply—
Probably something affirmative, empty, not from the heart.
He realized he had never avoided a question like that before.
And he thought bitterly,
Human nature really is weak.
Once a strong man develops feelings… he becomes fragile again.
When he got home, Lin Wan was already asleep.
Her routine was stable now—she always fell asleep before ten.
Her body carried the fresh scent of shower gel and shampoo—
A fragrance more intoxicating than fine wine.
He sat beside the bed, watching her quietly.
He suddenly recalled a passage from Jane Eyre.
At university, he took a course in literary classics,
And one discussion had described a conversation between Jane and Mr. Rochester regarding his mad wife.
Rochester had said:
I don't hate her because she went mad.
If you went mad, do you think I would hate you?…
Every bit of flesh on you is as precious to me as my own.
Sick or not, it would still be precious.
Your mind is my treasure; even if it suffered, it will remain my treasure.
If you raved nonsense, my arms would hold you, not a straitjacket—
Even if in your tantrums you scratched and tore at me, it would still be charming…
Back then, A Jin had scoffed,
What pretentious crap.
Now, remembering that line, he couldn't help laughing softly.
Too fucking accurate.
It was exactly how he felt.
—
That night, he dreamed that Lin Wan had left him.
No warning.
No reason.
Gone.
He jolted awake instantly.
Feeling the warmth in his arms, he finally exhaled.
His back was cold with sweat.
He sat in the dark for a long time before a thought crept into his mind—
If she never gets better…
Maybe she won't have to leave.
He didn't care whether she was healthy or not.
Just like Rochester said—
He could accept her in any condition,
As long as she stayed by his side like she does now.
But he immediately rejected that thought.
It was insane.
Cruel.
Selfish.
If he were his old self, maybe he really would've gone that far.
But now… he couldn't.
Yet what about the other extreme?
If Lin Wan were to fall in love with another man—
Marry him—
Lie beside him at night,
Share intimacy with him—
A Jin felt his stomach twist, his skin crawl,
His mind burnt with the urge to destroy that man completely.
He lay awake half the night.
By morning, his eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles.
Thinking back on last night's turmoil, he laughed at himself.
What's the point of thinking so much?
Be a man—
Either be ruthless to others,
Or do good and accept the pain.
—
But what shocked him was that a week later,
His nightmare came true.
Lin Wan was gone—
No, she had vanished.
He had just returned from a negotiation in another province.
It was past eleven when he got home.
The moment he saw the empty house, his nerves exploded.
Her phone was off.
He forced himself to stay calm, drove to her apartment, used his own key to open the door—
Empty.
He froze in her living room for two full minutes before remembering to call her friends, colleagues—everyone.
He had saved all their numbers long ago "just in case."
He never expected to really use them.
No useful information.
Her coworker said she had taken leave that afternoon, nothing more.
Milan and the others were clueless.
A Jin didn't dare scare them, so he gave vague answers and hung up.
Then he dialed his contact in the public security bureau.
After the call, he wanted to run out and search for her—
But his legs wouldn't move.
Finally, he backed up and fell onto the sofa, gripping his phone so tightly it nearly cracked.
Regret and fear stuffed his entire chest.
He should never have left.
What negotiation could be more important than her life?
He had been too optimistic, thinking her recovery meant safety.
He should've known better.
When his phone suddenly rang, he almost dropped it.
Seeing the number, he hesitated—terrified.
What if it was bad news?
A car accident?
There were drunk drivers everywhere, careless drivers everywhere…
Or suicide?
Highly possible.
She was a depression patient.
She had attempted once before.
The ringtone grew louder, piercing—
He snapped out of his panic and answered.
If something truly happened, avoiding the call was pointless.
If there was still time, maybe she could be saved.
The voice on the other end was calm.
That day in City B, there had been multiple car accidents,
But none involving a young woman.
No stations had reported a female suicide or injury either.
A Jin exhaled in relief—
Only for panic to surge back immediately.
Not found didn't mean not happened.
She took leave.
She must have planned something.
Maybe she was going to drown herself.
Maybe she found a quiet place to swallow sleeping pills…
He smacked his forehead hard, cursing,
Almost scaring himself into cardiac arrest.
After a long while, he finally thought about calling his secretary—
To check flight records, train surveillance, everything.
He had been circling only one thought:
Her depression = danger.
He hadn't considered the other possibility—
That she might simply want to escape him again.
Ten minutes later, his secretary called back:
A flight had been booked.
She boarded a plane at 3 p.m. to S City.
Jin's heart finally settled—
for a moment.
It made sense.
S City was where her grandmother lived,
Where she had spent more than ten years of her life.
But the next second, terror struck again.
Did she go there to die?
Fallen leaves return to their roots…
—
At eight the next morning, A Jin arrived in S City.
All the way from the airport to the old district, he kept calling her phone.
Still off.
His worry was so fierce that ulcers had formed in his mouth.
Forty minutes later, he reached a quiet neighborhood of old one-family courtyards.
The houses were aged but not dilapidated.
The narrow paths were clean but too tight for a taxi to enter, so he walked.
Red Spring Festival couplets still hung fresh on each door.
The place smelled of life and peace—a serenity impossible in the city.
But inside A Jin, there was no peace.
He scanned each house number carefully until he reached a black iron gate.
His heart leaped—
he would see her soon.
But the heavy lock on the door froze him in place.
The wall wasn't high; he could see the courtyard clearly.
Stone tiles.
A weathered swing in the corner.
A blooming cherry tree.
Through the window, nothing moved. No shadows.
Did… she not come back at all?