Synopsis
Two strangers' destinies become unexpectedly intertwined.
Does love begin with the warmth transmitted through held hands, embraces in lonely despair, or the twists and turns of long journeys; when someone quietly becomes part of life, emotions imperceptibly merging into the bloodstream - do they settle in the heart, accumulate in memory's depths, or gradually wear away with time's relentless passage;
Do we willingly grow up while forgetting bit by bit; or do we grow while still holding fast.
Does a distant River of Forgetfulness exist on the other shore, can distance break all bonds, can prolonged forgetting be chosen, does every little remembrance signify eternity.
Time proves everything.
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☆、01
2012, Hanjiang
They say many women, once they develop intuition about something, stop believing in facts - Zhu Xiao Yan was half-convinced about this saying. She happened to be a woman whose emotions often outweighed reason, somewhat superstitious about intuition.
Now her intuition told her that her boyfriend Gao Xiang's absent-mindedness while driving should be related to the woman they encountered outside Green Door Cafe about ten minutes ago.
She recalled the fleeting glimpse from earlier.She and Gao Xiang walked out of the café when a woman approached them. Shoulder-length hair, medium height, slender figure, wearing a blue short-sleeved knitted cardigan paired with faded jeans, her makeup-free face adorned with dark brown sunglasses—she looked entirely ordinary. The only thing that caught her attention was the woman's bag: red canvas with a silver zipper and a small silver pendant. It seemed spacious enough to hold a small laptop, yet completely different from the rigid design of typical computer bags—lightweight and stylish. She instantly liked it, though she wasn't bold enough to ask a stranger about the brand.
Gao Xiang quickly said to her, "Wait a moment."
He went over and exchanged only a few words with the woman. She took out a notebook and pen from her bag, swiftly wrote a line, tore it out, and handed it to him. He paused briefly before reaching out to take it, not glancing at it, then gave the woman a slight nod before returning to lead Zhu Xiao Yan toward the parking lot. She asked, "Who was that?"
He opened the car door, slid inside, casually tucked the note into the sun visor, started the car, and replied simply, "Someone I knew before."
She didn't pay it much mind, turning on the CD to play music while continuing to tell him about the minor disputes she'd had with her colleagues that afternoon. He had always been a man of few words, but today he stared straight ahead, barely responding. Feeling a bit deflated, she fell silent. It was only after a long pause that he snapped out of it, offering an apologetic smile: "Sorry, I was thinking about something."
Zhu Xiao Yan tried hard to convince herself that it was ridiculous to speculate about a woman whose face she hadn't even clearly seen. Yet once suspicion arises, it tends to amplify on its own and is difficult to dissipate. All the way to the restaurant, Gao Xiang remained silent, and her unspoken sense of uncertainty grew increasingly heavy.
As they followed the hostess inside, she suddenly stopped: "Oh, I left my phone in the car."
"I'll go get it for you."
"Give me the car keys, I'll get it myself. You go ahead and order."
Zhu Xiao Yan took the keys and returned to the parking lot. Gao Xiang's car was a strikingly conspicuous black Jeep Commander—bold lines, a retro design that bordered on flamboyant, with three rows of seats and a tall, spacious interior. This fuel-guzzling full-size SUV neither matched Zhu Xiao Yan's aesthetic nor her understanding of Gao Xiang's character. From the first moment she saw the car, it had felt off. She couldn't understand why a man who worked as a wine agent, drank moderately, and carried himself with such low-key restraint would make such an eccentric choice in a vehicle—spending over 600,000 yuan on a car that was neither eco-friendly nor subtle, flaunting beyond its actual price.
She opened the car door, sat in the driver's seat, reached up to feel inside the sun visor, and retrieved the note he had tucked away. Unfolding it, she saw neatly printed, childlike handwriting that read: Linjiang Hotel, Room 517. Please make sure to come by tonight.Her fingers trembled uncontrollably. She sat frozen for a long moment before finally getting out of the car and entering the restaurant. The place had an elegant ambiance with exquisite dishes, always bustling with customers—reservations were essential to secure a table. Yet their dinner was unusually subdued. Gao Xiang seemed lost in thought throughout, and she couldn't muster the energy to initiate conversation.
Though she had returned the note to the sun visor, every word was etched in her memory. What was that woman's relationship with Gao Xiang? Was it a date invitation? Was he cheating? Or was the woman deliberately seducing him? Was she overreacting to mere suspicions? Her mind swarmed with these questions, leaving her unable to taste anything she ate.
She glanced at Gao Xiang. He was a refined, slender man who, at 38, maintained an upright posture and the dignified bearing ideal for his age. His face might appear ordinary, but he naturally exuded an imposing presence—what her best friend would call "highly charismatic with mature appeal."
He looked up, noticing her gaze, and asked, "What's wrong?"
She forced a smile. "Nothing."
After leaving the restaurant, Gao Xiang offered to take her home. Their dates didn't usually end like this. Pretending nonchalance, she asked, "Do you have plans later?"
"Yes, I have something to attend to."
Her heart sank, and she said nothing more. Back home, she showered, changed into comfortable loungewear, lit a scented candle, selected a Lisa Ono CD for the stereo, and picked up Italo Calvino's "Invisible Cities," intending to calm her mind with reading. She had always been somewhat artsy, enamored with these ritualistic steps she believed could soothe her. But today, all her preparations were in vain—Calvino's intricate prose felt more labyrinthine than ever. She stumbled through it, her mind too restless to focus. Tossing the book aside, she paced like a caged animal until exhaustion finally drove her to change clothes and head out again, hailing a taxi to Riverside Hotel.
She told herself: Just take a look, confirm how ridiculous her so-called intuition was, and return.
Riverside Hotel stood along the riverbank in the waterfront city of Hanjiang—a nearly century-old gray building that, despite multiple renovations, still showed signs of wear. Its facilities couldn't compare to the city's newer five-star hotels. However, its prime location and time-honored classical charm ensured a steady stream of guests.
Zhu Xiao Yan stepped out of the taxi and immediately spotted the Jeep Commander parked to the left of the hotel entrance. Her heart plummeted.
Her boyfriend had received a note with a hotel room number from a woman and had come as invited. No matter how optimistic or broad-minded she was, she couldn't ignore this. But what should she do next: storm up to knock on the door and catch them in the act? Or wait for him to emerge and catch him off guard? What explanation would he possibly offer her?She checked her watch. Over two hours had passed since he had brought her home—not an excessively long time. If something were happening, it might still be ongoing, or it could have already concluded. Rushing over here like a fool, even if it confirmed her intuition, what good would it do? The thought of having to demand an explanation from Gao Xiang filled her with humiliation and anger, mixed with a trace of fear she was unwilling to acknowledge. Almost without thinking, she walked into the hotel.
The elevator silently stopped on the fifth floor. The hotel corridor was long and quiet, with large floor vases filled with imitation peacock feathers and silk flowers at the corners. The lighting was soft, and the thick carpet muffled all sound underfoot. Dark-colored doors stood tightly shut. Zhu Xiao Yan stood in front of Room 517, her heartbeat almost audible to her own ears.
By now, she felt somewhat absurd about her actions, but leaving without clarity would only mean tormenting herself later. Gritting her teeth, she rang the doorbell and stared directly at the peephole, as if confronting an invisible opponent.
The door opened, and the woman she had seen earlier in the parking lot stood before her. She had changed into a white long-sleeved T-shirt and knit athletic pants—a comfortable, casual outfit. Without makeup, she wore black-framed glasses, looking clean and delicate, appearing no older than 26 or 27. She regarded Zhu Xiao Yan with surprise. "Hello, may I ask who you are?"
There was no turning back now. Even without stepping inside, she could see it was a modest-sized guest room, laid out plainly before her. The lights were bright, a large bed neatly made, the curtains half-open—no traces of any sordid affair. Gao Xiang sat fully dressed in a chair by the window, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it returned to impassivity.
Zhu Xiao Yan knew she had messed up. Trapped and flustered, she stammered involuntarily, "I... I'm that, that Gao Xiang's girlfriend, I..."
Gao Xiang stood up. "Still so impatient. Didn’t I ask you to wait for me downstairs? I was just about to come down."
His voice was gentle, carrying a hint of reproach that felt intimate and casual. Zhu Xiao Yan’s jaw dropped in surprise, quickly realizing he was covering for her foolish mistake. Yet her face flushed red, wishing the ground would split open and swallow her, or that time could briefly reverse so she wouldn’t have to face this situation.
The woman smiled slightly and stepped aside. "Please come in. I’m Zuo Si’an. I’ve known your boyfriend, Gao Xiang... for a long time. But I’ve been abroad and haven’t returned to the country in nearly twelve years. This time, I asked to meet him for a chat and also to request a favor. I’m sorry for taking up your time. Would you like tea or coffee?"
This detailed explanation left Zhu Xiao Yan even more at a loss for words. Gao Xiang stood up. "That won’t be necessary. It’s getting late. Xiao Yan, I’ll take you home."
Zhu Xiao Yan couldn’t help but notice that Gao Xiang, usually so polite, seemed somewhat stiff and made no move to introduce them. Zuo Si’an paused, taken aback. "You’re leaving? What about what I just mentioned..."Gao Xiang didn't look at her, his entire posture leaving no room for negotiation. "I'm giving you a clear answer now—I don't agree."
Her expression dimmed, but she said nothing.
Gao Xiang glanced at her once more. "Let's go, Xiao Yan."
They exited the restaurant, and Zhu Xiao Yan offered an awkward apology. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have come, I just..."
She paused, struggling to find the right words, but Gao Xiang shook his head and opened the car door for her. "It's nothing. Get in."
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