Chapter 3

Halfway through dinner, the five of them began discussing next year’s cherry-blossom trip again.

They had already chosen when to buy the flights, which rooms to stay in, where to eat their first meal—even the rental car.

Only then did Gu Ye remember to ask me.

“Zhiyi, your passport hasn’t expired, has it? Wen Li wants you to take a really impressive set of photos for us.”

I nodded, looking at him.

“It hasn’t. Don’t worry.”

Xia Chuan put a piece of Japanese rolled omelet in my bowl.

“No last-minute overtime this time. It’s a group trip. Nobody gets left out.”

I looked down at the omelet without explaining.

At nine the next morning, my high-speed train would leave this city.

None of them knew.

None of them had asked why I had been so busy lately either.

After dinner, Wen Li suggested a group photo.

A server held up the phone.

At last, all six of us were in the same frame.

Just before the picture was taken, Wen Li moved closer to my brother.

Gu Ye and Lin Che naturally leaned the same way.

Xia Chuan stood beside me, but turned to remind her, “Wen Li, don’t close your eyes when you look at the camera.”

As the shutter clicked, five phones on the table lit up together.

I glanced over automatically.

The same group notification.

Only my phone stayed dark.

Wen Li picked up her phone and studied the picture with a pleased smile.

“This is great. Perfect for our Four Unlucky Souls group picture.”

Then she remembered I was still there and stuck out her tongue awkwardly.

My brother laughed and tapped her on the head.

“You really can’t keep anything to yourself.”

The five of them kept choosing photos.

No one looked my way again.

Suddenly, I wasn’t sad anymore.

Once you were truly ready to leave, you no longer had the energy to argue about how you had been hurt.

I picked up my bag and stood.

“Take your time. I have something on tomorrow morning, so I’m heading home.”

Xia Chuan didn’t even look up.

“Okay. Don’t forget our movie this weekend. We definitely won’t change the venue at the last minute again.”

I smiled.

For the first time, I didn’t agree.

“We’ll see. I’m not sure yet.”

Early the next morning, Xia Chuan was still asleep when I wheeled my suitcase out.

I left my key card on the shoe cabinet without waking him.

At exactly nine, the high-speed train slowly pulled out of the station.

My brother had just posted in our five-person chat.

[Usual place at noon. Zhiyi, book the table. Whoever’s late pays.]

Gu Ye and Lin Che quickly sent a few reaction stickers.

Xia Chuan tagged me again.

[Are you up? Reply when you see this.]

I didn’t reply to any of them.

The familiar buildings outside the window receded.

I silenced my phone.

This time, I didn’t want to book the restaurant, send the location, then rush there last to sort out everyone else’s problems.

If the fifth person was the extra one, I could simply leave.

At eleven thirty, my brother tagged me again in the five-person chat.

[Zhiyi, you still haven’t sent the location. Where did you book?]

Ten minutes later, Gu Ye added:

[It’s a holiday. If we don’t book soon, there really won’t be anywhere left.]

I didn’t answer.

The train had just pulled into Hangzhou.

Only at noon did they realize I wouldn’t be arranging anything for them that day.

Xia Chuan called first.

“Zhiyi, where are you? Your brother says he can’t reach you.”

I wheeled my suitcase toward the exit.

Suitcase wheels rattled all around me.

“Hangzhou. I just got off the train.”

There were several seconds of silence.

He seemed unable to understand.

“What are you doing in Hangzhou?”

“A work transfer. I start on Monday.”

His voice dropped at once.

“When did you decide?”

“On Mid-Autumn.”

“You decided to move away without saying a word to me?”

I stopped walking.

The question sounded strangely familiar.

They had changed the movie plans without telling me.

Planned a cherry-blossom trip without telling me.

My brother had moved house. Gu Ye had gone through a breakup. Lin Che had moved too. Even when Xia Chuan was hospitalized, no one thought I needed to be told first.

But when it was my turn, not informing them suddenly became a serious offense.

I said only, “I hadn’t had the chance.”

He plainly had no answer.

“Shen Zhiyi, don’t throw our old words back at me. This isn’t the same.”

“Not to you. To me, it is.”

I walked out of the station.

The colleague who had come to meet me stood at the exit, holding a sign with my name.

I heard my brother’s voice at Xia Chuan’s end.