Three and a half years later — NewHaven.
Su Yang woke to her phone at three in the morning. When that precise, unmistakable Beijing cadence reached her ear, she sat up so fast for a moment she wondered if she were still dreaming.
“Yang?” Gu Xuyan called again when there was no answer.
“Mmm…” She slapped on the bedside lamp, grabbed the phone and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“Sorry to wake you,” he said. “I’ve got something here. You may need to come back two weeks earlier.”
There were ten-odd hours between them. It was afternoon where he was; the background of the call was loud and bustling.
“What happened?” she asked, instantly alert.
“Zi Chen’s grandfather had a stroke,” Gu said. “I can’t leave for a few days, but the Yongxu–Chen project is in negotiation—a hundred‑million deal. I don’t trust leaving it unattended. If you’re done with everything there, come back.”
“And the old man?” Su Yang’s first concern was always the person.
“Not great.” Gu’s voice was blunt. “He’s old. The doctors told us to brace ourselves. I’m not comfortable leaving him here, so we brought him back to B City.”
His voice stayed calm enough; only the tails of his sentences carried a faint weariness.
“I’ll book a ticket now.” She threw the covers off and padded across the short‑pile carpet with bare feet. At the window, she drew aside the drapes and stared at the quiet foreign street below. “Take care of Zi Chen’s grandmother too. Keep an eye on her.”
“I know. I’m bringing her back with me—hired a caregiver, twenty‑four‑hour.” He asked, then, “You still in New York?”
“No. I came back to NewHaven last week. My things are packed. Since you asked, I’ll be ready. I’ve lived off you for more than three years—time I paid my debt.” She smiled softly, but her eyes held a cool edge as they watched the empty street.
“Right, there’s no free lunch. Get back here and start working for your boss.” Gu pretended to be stern. “My company doesn’t pay people to loaf around.”
After they hung up, sleep was impossible. She brewed a pot of coffee, opened her laptop, bought a ticket, booked a pick‑up service. Then, glancing at the time, she hesitated a moment before calling Chen Sui.
He picked up, surprised. “Why call me in the middle of the night?” he asked, meaning the time difference.
Su Yang took a sip of coffee to clear her head and laughed. “You’re right. It’s important, though. I need a favor.”
“Hang on.” His tone went serious. There was a rustle on the other end, then she heard him return, his voice more distant, wind carrying through the line. “Okay. Tell me. What do you need?”
“You sound like you’re somewhere echoey.”
“Yeah, I’m on the roof.” he replied.
“You didn’t have to be so cloak‑and‑dagger.” She couldn’t help smiling. “Are you dressed? Don’t catch a cold on me.”
“No, I came out for some air. The office was too crowded.”
“You’ve been in the business department three months and you still haven’t gotten used to it?”
“Half the team’s male — it’s a change.” He joked.
“You worried the men will sabotage you?” She teased. “Impossible. You’re a princeling—Chen will shield you. Who else would hand you a billion‑dollar movie investment?”
“Let’s not pretend we’re morally superior,” he shot back, smiling. “And I don’t have your experience anyway.”
“Chen, don’t dig up my past. Yongxu and your company are going to work together. We’ll probably see a lot more of each other. Let’s keep things civil.”
There was a pause, and his voice went up a note. “So…you’re coming back for good?”
“Nearly. My flight’s eight tomorrow night. I’ll land in Haicheng around noon the day after.”
He sounded genuinely surprised this time. “Tomorrow? Is everything okay?”
She loved the way he reacted—so startled and earnest. In a foreign town at dawn, holding a steaming cup of coffee and knowing someone was out there worrying about you, it was a comfort she hadn’t realized she still needed.
“That’s why I called you,” she said. “Help me find a place. Not too far from the office, near the subway.”
“Any budget?” he asked, practical as ever.
“No fixed budget, but don’t gouge me. Nothing too expensive.”
“A studio?”
“No shared flats. No crumbling old places.” The memory of the rundown house near her university — broken things, a rough neighborhood — still made her shudder.
“I’ve got the apartment across from me just emptied,” he offered casually. “Want to be neighbors?”
She froze. For over three years, besides Gu, only two people back home had stayed in touch: He Rou—her aunt—and Chen Sui.
She’d left Haicheng without telling He Rou. Only after she’d landed in NewHaven and settled her enrollment did she dare call. The response on the other end had been a torrent of scolding so fierce it filled her ears. It had been a long time since her gentle aunt had sounded that angry.
Chen Sui, on the other hand, had reached her after a month of emails—calling the dorm’s landline because someone at NewHaven had helped him find it. He’d only asked a favor from a friend, he’d said lightly. That day she gave him her mobile number.
“If you don’t want me to,” he said now, “I can keep looking.”
After a moment, she let out a small, helpless laugh. “Chen Sui…don’t waste your time on me. I’m not worth it—there are so many great single women out there. Don’t hang yourself over some crooked tree like me.”
He made a sound between a chuckle and an exhale. “You don’t have to carry this like it’s on me. It’s your life, not my burden.” His tone was easy. “I’ll look. If I find something decent, I’ll tell you. But you know how expensive Jiangning Road is—good single studios are rare. If nothing suitable turns up, come stay opposite me for a while. If you don’t like it, we’ll keep looking. How’s that?”
“You make it hard to say no.” She admired his steadiness and gave in. “Fine. I’m putting this on you. Thank you. I’ll let you arrange everything.”