"I'll give you two locations: one is the shipyard on Weeping Isle, the other is the construction site west of the city. I'll take him to one of these places. As for which one, that's for you to guess."
Cao Xiaojun clenched his phone, grinding his teeth in fury, his chest heaving rapidly.
"In one hour, if I don't see you, I'll act."
Wu Ximei jumped up, trying to grab the phone, but he blocked her with his arm.
"Dongzi, let's settle our own issues. What does this have to do with the child—"
But the person on the other end ignored his protest and continued speaking.
"As for who goes where, that's your choice. If one of you runs into me, that's fate—no one to blame. Of course, you two can keep pretending to be a united couple and go to the same place. But don't say I didn't warn you—time is limited. If you guess wrong, then prepare to collect a corpse."
"Wait—"
"Remember, one hour. The countdown starts now."
"Hey—"
The call ended, leaving only his ragged breathing and her sobs echoing in the cold, empty concrete room.
In the distance, firecrackers popped—carefree people celebrating the New Year early.
Cao Xiaojun turned to Wu Ximei. She already knew what he was going to say; he didn’t even need to speak.
Almost simultaneously, they bolted for the stairs, racing downward.
Their frantic footsteps reverberated through the stairwell, spreading like the relentless beat of a death drum.
Weeping Isle was a desolate island opposite Qindao. In the 1990s, a large shipyard had been built there, but time and circumstances had left it abandoned. Later, several murders occurred on the island, driving people further away. Now, it was overgrown with dense trees, its population dwindled to nothing.
As for the construction site west of the city, they knew exactly which one he meant. Rumors said the site was cursed—fatal accidents plagued the construction, preventing its completion. After several failed attempts, the project was shelved, officially due to funding issues. But wild rumors spread among the locals, turning it into the infamous Ghost Building.
Both locations were inauspicious—one east, one west, each about a 40-minute trip away. An hour wasn’t enough to cover both. Clearly, "Dongzi" had set this up deliberately. He wanted them to split up. He wanted them to decide—who lived, who died.
Cao Xiaojun led the way, Wu Ximei close behind, both running like mad. Yet her mind was a haze, her heart numb, and random memories surfaced unbidden.
She remembered the first time Cao Xiaojun made soup—he’d mistaken sugar for salt, turning the whole pot of chicken broth sickeningly sweet.
She recalled the designer dress he and their son had given her for her birthday last year. She’d never worn it, keeping it neatly folded in the bottom of her closet, the tag still attached.
Oh—and the preserved sausages drying outside the kitchen window, meant for the New Year. She hadn’t been home these past few days. Would wild cats have stolen them?
Had they paid the electricity bill? If they fell behind, the fridge would lose power. Inside was the last piece of chocolate—Tianbao had been begging for it. She should’ve given it to him sooner—
Fragments of life surged up, and Wu Ximei suddenly realized how much she still clung to, how much she couldn’t bear to lose.
How strange people are—only when death looms do they truly think about how to live.Having lived in Qingdao for many years, she and Cao Xiaojun had hardly enjoyed anything. Apart from their workplaces, they had barely visited anywhere else. Everyone said this coastal town was picturesque, yet there were so many beautiful sights they had never seen. They always thought there would be time later—when Tianbao recovered, when they saved more money, when the weather turned warmer, when—
Her thoughts wandered aimlessly, stubbornly refusing to face the harsh reality before her.
But there was no more room for evasion. In the blink of an eye, the two of them had already reached the fence downstairs. A decision had to be made now—where to go, what to do.
"I'll go to the shipyard. You head to the construction site."
Cao Xiaojun's face was hidden in the moonlight, only his eyes gleaming brightly.
"I have a feeling Dongzi must be hiding at the shipyard. I'll talk to him."
"Let's go together—"
"No," he shook his head. "We can't gamble. If we're wrong, we'll regret it for the rest of our lives."
"Alright, then I'll go to the construction site."
He nodded and turned to leave, but Wu Ximei suddenly grabbed his hand, gripping it so tightly her knuckles turned white.
"Xiaojun—"
She clenched her teeth, staring straight at him, tears welling in her eyes.
She had wanted to avoid his gaze, yet deep down, she seemed to know this was her last chance to look at him properly.
For some reason, she felt that all the days and nights she had spent with this man were as if waiting for this moment of parting.
But when the moment truly arrived, all the heartache and sorrow choked in her throat, leaving only a faint sentence to escape her lips.
"Be careful."
"You too."
Even after the words, she couldn't bring herself to let go. Trembling, she forced a light tone.
"We haven't decided yet—where should we meet afterward?"
Cao Xiaojun turned back to look at her, studying the hand that held his—once soft and delicate, now rough and cracked.
But she was still the girl in his heart, unchanged even for a single day.
He would always remember the bustling night market lights, her frail and slender shoulders, the trembling, blood-streaked smile on her face. Over a decade of hardships, they had endured so much suffering, yet in his heart, she remained as beautiful as ever.
She was the only love of his life, his most important family.
She was his life.
"How about the ferry?"
Cao Xiaojun rubbed Wu Ximei's hand, forcing a smile.
"After this is over, we'll meet at the ferry with Tianbao, then leave this place. We'll go somewhere else and live a good life. I promise you, we'll be good people from now on."
He pulled her into his arms, listening to her muffled sobs as he gently stroked her back.
"Everything will be alright. Tianbao will get better, and we'll find new jobs, earn lots of money, and our lives will grow richer day by day.
"You like flowers and plants, don't you? Then we'll go somewhere warm, where flowers bloom all year round. I promise you, the first thing we'll do after settling down is create a big garden.
"You've suffered too much following me all these years. When we move to our new home, you won't have to worry about anything. Just rest, tend to the flowers, eat and drink whatever you like, buy whatever you want. We'll live like the wealthy—"
He rambled on, his words jumbled and endless, as if trying to say everything he had left to say in one breath.She was held tightly in his arms, breathing in the sour tang of his sweat, feeling the scrape of his coarse stubble against her skin, sensing the suppressed sobs he struggled to contain, as he painted for her a future that seemed impossibly distant.
Was it the future, or the afterlife?
"Xiaojun—"
She called out to stop him.
But cupping his face in her hands, she found herself at a loss for words.
"Ximei, as long as I'm here, nothing will happen to you," he said, head bowed. "Neither you nor Tianbao will come to harm. I promise."
He had reverted to that same boy from years ago who couldn't meet her gaze, only now with crow's feet framing his eyes.
She watched as his eyes gradually melted, transforming into two meandering rivers, surging with all the panic and disgrace of their shared existence.
"I need you to be safe, Cao Xiaojun," she smoothed his graying, disheveled hair, "I need you to be safe. Promise me."
He looked at her, smiling through tears, but offered no reply.
"Promise me."
He wiped his face, turned around, and began walking away step by step.
"Don't forget—the ferry pier."
She called after his retreating figure.
"Cao Xiaojun, you said you'd never lie to me. Don't go back on your word this time either. Come back. We both have to come back."
He stopped in his tracks, but ultimately said nothing more. With his back still turned, he simply raised his hand in farewell once again.
It could have been goodbye. It could have been farewell.
Wu Ximei stood frozen as the north wind licked the tears from her cheeks.
She watched the hair at the nape of Cao Xiaojun's neck flutter in the wind.
His slightly hunched back, his limping gait—he gradually faded from her view, step by step disappearing into the boundless dark night.
She looked up. A lone, frayed-edge moon hung in the sky.
Over a decade ago, on a night with similarly clear moonlight, in the desolate mountains, she and Cao Xiaojun had blood on their hands as they buried Ni Xiangdong together, committing an unspeakable sin. Now, more than ten years later, Ni Xiangdong had returned to claim his due, and under the witness of this same bright moon, the two of them were forced to embark on their separate journeys of atonement.
Ah, retribution had finally come.
A voice circled incessantly in her ears—a blood-red threat, a waking nightmare, an ominous portent. But she refused to acknowledge it, didn't dare face it.
At this point, she had no other choice. Steeling her heart, she turned and strode forward, forcing herself not to look back.
Beneath the moonlight, the two who had once depended on each other for survival ultimately went their separate ways.
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