Night Wanderer

Strikes without warning only add insult to injury.

The calm Zong Ying had struggled to maintain was on the verge of crumbling in an instant, but reality didn’t allow her even a moment of weakness. With 6 a.m. drawing closer, leaving Sheng Qingrang here would be nothing short of irresponsible.

Her grandmother leaned over and asked what was wrong. Zong Ying replied, "The car seems to have broken down," then pushed the door open to get out and check.

Faced with this sudden predicament, the two inside the car were at a loss and could only watch helplessly as she worked. Her grandmother turned to Sheng Qingrang with concern and said, "I don’t know if Zong Ying can handle this alone. Maybe you should go help?"

Sheng Qingrang knew next to nothing about modern cars. Steeling himself, he unbuckled his seatbelt and was about to step out when the grandmother suddenly reached from behind and gripped his left shoulder.

With surprising strength, the elderly woman declared, "If you can’t drive, you probably can’t fix a car either… Best stay seated."

Sheng Qingrang had no choice but to sit back down. His grandmother handed him a bag of sunflower seeds. "Hungry? Want some?"

He quickly waved his hand. "No, thank you. I’m not hungry."

Undeterred, she rummaged through her shopping bag and pulled out a pack of potato chips. "Young people these days like these, don’t they? Want some?"

Sheng Qingrang awkwardly declined again, his gaze flickering toward the car window where he caught sight of Zong Ying striding back.

She pulled the door open, reached in to grab her phone from the holder, and swiftly dialed a rescue number.

When she made the call, she shut the door, muffling all sound from inside. All they could see was her head bowed as she spoke to someone, her lips pressed tight as she waited for a response, one hand brushing her hair back.

Her grandmother watched her and murmured to herself, "She’s the spitting image of Xiaoman…"

The mention of "Xiaoman" suddenly reminded Sheng Qingrang of the black hardcover album in Zong Ying’s bedroom.

He guessed that "Xiaoman" must be Zong Ying’s mother. His impression of Yan Man came entirely from photographs and news reports, but even so, he understood why her grandmother would say that—because the resemblance was uncanny, both in looks and demeanor.

Her grandmother suddenly turned to him and said, "Zong Ying handles things very reliably, don’t you think?"

Snapped out of his thoughts, Sheng Qingrang answered sincerely, "Yes."

As he spoke, he glanced out the window again and saw her hang up the phone before turning and striding toward the service area, leaving only her retreating figure in view.

Watching her grow smaller in the distance, Sheng Qingrang unexpectedly asked her grandmother, "Is Zong Ying’s birthday September 14th?"

The grandmother didn’t know why he’d suddenly ask, but she nodded. "Yes, yes. How did you know?"

The confirmation didn’t bring him joy—instead, his eyes dimmed briefly. He replied vaguely, "I found out by chance."

September 14th—the day Zong Ying came into this world, and the day her mother left it.

A beginning and an end.

The Möbius strip imprinted alongside the numbers seemed to take on new meaning and interpretation.

Amid her grandmother’s barrage of questions—"How old are you?", "How did you meet Zong Ying?", "What’s so urgent that you’re rushing back to Shanghai so late?"—Sheng Qingrang’s attention remained fixed on that figure a hundred meters away.Under the vast night sky, the service area plaza appeared exceptionally desolate, as if she were the only person left between heaven and earth—standing firm, resiliently growing, independently solving all troubles with an indomitable spirit.

She handled matters decisively and efficiently, seeming effortlessly cool no matter what she did. Just as Sheng Qingrang was thinking this, Zong Ying suddenly walked toward him.

As she neared the car, Zong Ying paused to answer her phone—

It was Xue Xuanqing calling. On the other end, she yawned and said, "It actually went through. I thought you weren’t going to pick up."

"What’s up?"

Xue Xuanqing replied, "I’m off these two days and bored out of my mind at my grandma’s. Wanted to ask if you’re back in Shanghai yet. If you are, I’ll come find you to hang out."

Instead of answering, Zong Ying asked, "Is your grandma’s place in Kunshan?"

Xue Xuanqing yawned again. "Yeah."

Zong Ying glanced up at the service area sign. "So you’re thinking of coming to find me now?"

Xue Xuanqing responded, "That’s the plan. Where are you?"

Zong Ying answered briskly, "Yangcheng Lake Service Area on the Shanghai-Nanjing Expressway. My car broke down. Come on over."

On the other end, Xue Xuanqing abruptly sat up. Before she could even react, Zong Ying had already hung up.

Zong Ying’s uncharacteristic bluntness was startling. Just a car breaking down on the highway had pushed her to this point?

A friend in need couldn’t be ignored.

Though somewhat baffled, Xue Xuanqing got up, grabbed her jacket, and headed out to her car.

In September, the temperature difference between day and night grew starker, and the evening breeze carried a pleasant chill.

From Kunshan to Yangcheng Lake Service Area was about an hour’s drive; from there to Shanghai’s Jing’an District, another hour and a half without traffic.

Zong Ying had calculated the timing carefully—it would work out.

Xue Xuanqing was her Plan B. Before the call, she had planned to wait for the tow truck and then send Sheng Qingrang back to Shanghai. Now, it was just a matter of which arrived first.

She wanted to relax but couldn’t. Finally, she opened the car door and sat down, glancing at Sheng Qingrang. "There’s a lot of work to do once it’s light out. Get some sleep first—I’ll wake you when the car arrives."

Seeing her concern for Sheng Qingrang, her grandmother chimed in, "Zong Ying’s right. The two of us can catch up on sleep during the day, but if you have work, you shouldn’t stay up all night." She even handed over the blanket from her lap. "Cover your legs—don’t catch a chill."

Flustered by the attention, Sheng Qingrang hesitated for a moment before hurriedly replying, "Please keep it for yourself. I’m not tired yet."

"Doesn’t look that way to me. Your under-eyes are dark—clearly haven’t slept properly in days. Young people might have strong constitutions, but that’s no excuse to push yourself like this. Work is endless, but health is priceless."

Her grandmother countered with flawless logic, adding, "Stop being stubborn. Take it and get some sleep."

When Sheng Qingrang still didn’t accept it, she played her trump card: "If you refuse to sleep, should I give up the back seat for you instead?"

"No, no, no." Sheng Qingrang denied it three times in a row before finally taking the blanket from the elderly woman, draping it over himself, and closing his eyes to sleep.

Zong Ying pressed her lips together helplessly at the sight, but her grandmother winked triumphantly and whispered, "See? He’s asleep now."The car fell into complete silence. Grandma tiptoed back to lie down, and Zong Ying also leaned against the seat and closed her eyes.

When waiting, no matter how tired one is, sleep remains shallow. So the moment her phone buzzed, Zong Ying immediately opened her eyes and answered. She let out a quiet "Hello," then carefully pushed the door open and stepped out, asking, "Are you here?"

Xue Xuanqing’s voice was loud and unrestrained: "Of course I’d call only after arriving. Where the hell is your junk car parked? I can’t see it anywhere."

Zong Ying scanned the surroundings and said, "I see you. Drive north."

"Who can tell directions in pitch darkness? Just say left or right!"

"Right side."

Xue Xuanqing finally spotted her and mercilessly honked the horn. After a few loud beeps, Grandma and Sheng Qingrang also woke up.

Zong Ying glanced sideways, pulled the door open, and said to those inside, "Wait a moment."

But before she could finish, Xue Xuanqing had already strode toward her.

Xue Xuanqing said, "You’re not alone, are you?" She knew Zong Ying had taken Grandma to Nanjing to search for relatives, so she must be bringing Grandma back. That explained Zong Ying’s urgency—after all, leaving an elderly person stranded on the highway wasn’t ideal. But—

Xue Xuanqing pressed further, "Why the hell did you take Grandma onto the highway in the middle of the night? Couldn’t it wait till tomorrow? Are you out of your mind?"

Zong Ying replied, "I’ll explain later. For now, just—"

Before she could finish, Xue Xuanqing bent down and sharply noticed Sheng Qingrang sitting in the passenger seat. She glared at him, straightened up, and said, "So it’s not just Grandma. Am I supposed to take him along too? I don’t even know who he is."

Her voice wasn’t particularly loud, but Zong Ying still pulled her aside and earnestly pleaded, "He has urgent business and needs to return to Shanghai before dawn. I hope you can take him back first."

"What about you and Grandma?"

"We’ll wait for the tow truck."

Xue Xuanqing grew even more baffled. She couldn’t fathom why Zong Ying would go to such lengths for a stranger.

She shot a glance at the car on her right and asked, "Who is he to you? Is this really necessary?"

Zong Ying thought for a moment. "I don’t know how to explain it right now, but he’s someone very important. Please don’t give him a hard time."

As Zong Ying spoke, Xue Xuanqing kept staring at her face.

From her expression, Xue Xuanqing detected rare sincerity and helplessness. Zong Ying was genuinely asking for help, without a hint of jest.

After hesitating, though reluctant, Xue Xuanqing finally relented, "Fine." She licked her lips and held out her hand. "Give me a cigarette."

Zong Ying handed her one. The moment Xue Xuanqing lit it, she frowned, took a drag, and immediately stubbed it out. "What kind of garbage is this? Sickly sweet, even has a milky taste—it’s not like drinking milk!" She looked down at it, then back at Zong Ying. "You suddenly switched to women’s cigarettes—are you trying to quit?"

Zong Ying didn’t hide it. "Yes, I’m trying to quit."

Xue Xuanqing instantly felt a pang of abandonment, but what she said was, "Smoking really isn’t good. If it weren’t for the awful smells at crime scenes, I wouldn’t smoke either. Quit it. Quitting’s good."

At this point, she remembered that Zong Ying hadn’t smoked at first—back when they first met, she wouldn’t even touch cigarettes.

If Zong Ying had never met her, perhaps she would never have picked up this bad habit.She had always harbored guilt toward Zong Ying—a guilt that went far beyond the issue of smoking. It was buried deeper, something not easily brought up, and it intensified her sense of loss, leading her to make some irrational decisions in the past.

Noticing Xue Xuanqing’s sudden silence, Zong Ying didn’t press for a reason. Instead, she glanced at the time and said, “It’s getting late. Could you set off as soon as possible?”

Xue Xuanqing snapped out of her thoughts and looked toward the car. “Fine. Call him over. I’ll wait in the car.” With that, she turned and walked back to her own vehicle. Zong Ying headed the other way, opened the car door, and leaned in to say to Sheng Qingrang, “Mr. Sheng, could you step out for a moment?”

Sheng Qingrang immediately got out. Zong Ying told him, “It’s less than two hours from here to the French Concession, so time shouldn’t be an issue. But I’m not sure when the rescue vehicle will arrive, so it’s safest if you leave with Xuanqing first. Is that alright?”

Though phrased as a question, it was more of a decision already made for him. Sheng Qingrang replied, “Whatever Miss Zong arranges is fine.” His trust in her was absolute, and while Zong Ying felt undeserving, she said nothing further, simply pointing toward Xue Xuanqing’s car. “Over there.”

Sheng Qingrang followed her gesture just as Xue Xuanqing turned on the headlights and honked twice, as if making a point.

Zong Ying accompanied Sheng Qingrang to the car. Once he was seated in the passenger seat, she suddenly remembered something. “Wait a moment.” She hurried back to her own car and asked her grandmother, “Where’s that bag of snacks I bought earlier?”

Her grandmother paused before handing over the shopping bag, watching as Zong Ying grabbed it without a word and dashed off.

“Ah—” Her grandmother sighed, realizing the snacks weren’t meant for her after all.

Zong Ying motioned for Xue Xuanqing to roll down the window and handed the stuffed shopping bag to Sheng Qingrang. “Just in case.”

As he looked up, she reached into the bag and pulled out two canned drinks. With a flick of her finger, she popped open one and handed it to him before opening another for herself.

Her slender fingers wrapped around the can. After a brief silence, she said, “If you come back, no matter what, let me know.” Then, she suddenly raised her can, clinking it against his as if in a farewell toast.

She tilted her head back and drank half in one go.

She didn’t know when she’d see him again—or if she ever would. Everything she wanted to say was in that can, in the sweet peach-flavored juice.

Sheng Qingrang sensed her worry and care. He was certain his intuition was right—until the metal can in his hand warmed to his touch, until Zong Ying finished her drink. He glanced at the moon hanging in the dark sky before meeting her gaze and saying, “The moonlight is beautiful tonight, Miss Zong.”

Their eyes locked. Zong Ying’s throat tightened, and her grip on the can nearly crushed it.

Xue Xuanqing couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you two dating or what? Can we hurry this up? It’s not like this is goodbye forever.”

Zong Ying turned away, finally crumpling the can in her hand. She leaned in close to Sheng Qingrang’s ear and whispered, “No matter what it takes, get out of Xuanqing’s car before six. Take care of yourself.”Though she was still concerned that his sudden disappearance might cause unnecessary alarm to others, her actions over the past two days had tacitly accepted and allowed his presence in her life—even his direct contact with her close friends and family.

Her breath carried the scent of peach juice as she spoke.

But the moment she finished, she straightened up, and at the same time, Xue Xuanqing closed the car window. Only the faint trace of that same aroma lingered in the can he held.

As the car pulled away from the service area parking lot, Sheng Qingrang turned to look back. Zong Ying’s figure grew smaller and smaller under the dim yellow lights until she disappeared completely. Only then did the faint flush at the base of his ears gradually fade.

Zong Ying returned to her car, unlocked her phone, and opened the music player. A random song began to play—unexpectedly, the harmonica notes sounded vast and melodious.

On the twenty-fourth day of the lunar month, the full moon had already begun to wane. This cycle of fullness would soon end, making way for a new crescent.

Suddenly, her grandmother broke the silence. “You should’ve given him that bag of snacks earlier. I thought they were for me and ended up eating so much on the way—how embarrassing.”

Zong Ying snapped out of her thoughts and quickly turned to say, “There’s another bag in the trunk for you, Ms. Fang.”

Her grandmother suddenly understood. “I knew it! That bag was full of snacks only young people would like.”

In contrast, the atmosphere in Xue Xuanqing’s car was far from peaceful. Tension crackled between them, like two adversaries meeting on a narrow path.

After driving for a while, Xue Xuanqing asked bluntly, “Long time no see, Mr. Sheng. Last time, your pants were soaked in blood, reeking of gunpowder. This time, you’ve even got injuries on your face. Are you mixed up with the underworld?”

Her sidelong glance swept over his face as she spoke, her tone unapologetically sharp.

Sheng Qingrang denied it. “I’ve just been temporarily caught up in some conflicts.”

Unsatisfied with his answer, Xue Xuanqing cut straight to the point. “There’s something I need to confess. Last time, I collected your DNA and fingerprints, but the search turned up nothing. I can’t confirm your identity, and that makes me uneasy.”

Though he didn’t fully understand the terminology she used, Sheng Qingrang asked, “On what grounds did you do that?”

Xue Xuanqing replied, “Because I find you suspicious. So, who exactly are you?”

Keeping his composure, Sheng Qingrang answered, “I’m Zong Ying’s friend.”

Xue Xuanqing was irritated, but she couldn’t lose her temper before he did.

After exiting the highway and driving a while longer, the sky hinted at dawn. She asked again, “What’s the rush? Catching a flight?”

Sheng Qingrang went along with her assumption. “Yes, but just taking me into the city will suffice. If it’s too much trouble, you can let me out now. Thank you.”

Xue Xuanqing scoffed. “How could it be trouble?” She continued sarcastically, “When helping someone, go all the way—see the Buddha to the Western Heaven. Since I’m so helpful, of course I’ll take you to the airport. Pudong or Hongqiao? Which terminal?”

Neither Hongqiao nor Pudong was safe right now.

Sheng Qingrang said, “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. You can let me out here.”

Xue Xuanqing grew even more suspicious. Glancing at him, she said, “Since you won’t say, let’s go to Pudong first. We’re almost there anyway.”

Sheng Qingrang was gripped by a tightly controlled anxiety, and Xue Xuanqing seemed determined to make it worse for him.The car arrived at Pudong Airport with twenty minutes to spare before 6 a.m. Sheng Qingrang knew all too well that if he delayed any longer, he might vanish right inside the vehicle. Without a word, he got out and immediately headed toward the terminal.

Xue Xuanqing parked the car and quietly followed him inside.

She eventually saw Sheng Qingrang enter the men's restroom. Nearly twenty minutes passed, yet he never came out.

Frowning, Xue Xuanqing noticed how eerily empty the terminal was. No one had entered or exited the restroom for a long time. She decided to walk in herself. The urinals were deserted, and all the stall doors stood wide open—there was no trace of Sheng Qingrang anywhere.

Could he have just vanished into thin air?!