Chapter 76: A New Life

When the words ended, she didn’t know how long passed. Rain filled her ears. The world felt still.
Two figures in the dim—no movement—only soft sobs and what their hearts answered for them.
Qi Yu stood blank. Eyes misted, shifting. Body in the embrace went rigid—then, bit by bit, loosened.
After a long while she turned to face Jiang Ya. The moment they looked at each other the ice on her eyes melted into warm water.
As if she already knew some ending—a sigh inside.
She stared at Jiang Ya’s blurred face. Expression cold—but those eyes burned like fire, hot.
Qi Yu moved on instinct—hand halfway up, paused, didn’t drop. Fingertips pushed wet hair from Jiang Ya’s cheek, tucked it gently.
Then a soft sigh at her—helpless. “Why? Aren’t you tired?”
If it had tortured this long—why cling? Let go. Years later maybe a polite nod at a street corner.
“Not tired. I’m willing.” Jiang Ya said each word clear. Glasses speckled with rain—couldn’t see Qi Yu—she pulled them off. Looking again, gaze steady. “I’m actually bad at loving. I used to think loving someone meant weighing pros and cons—shielding her from every hardship.”
“I always lived above reason. I forgot—love isn’t a problem. It doesn’t need thinking.” She looked down, carefully took Qi Yu’s hand, pressed it to her left chest. “It’s here—isn’t it?”
“I know—it takes time. You can’t accept me again overnight. However long—I’ll wait. I’ll change slowly. Learn how to love properly… Just give me a chance. Let me be good to you… the way you were to me—okay?”
Qi Yu studied her a long time. Emotion complex, faint wetness. After a while she lowered her lashes, slowly pulled her hand free.
She steadied herself, breathed deep inside, spoke plain to Jiang Ya: “Thanks for hearing me. I’ll be honest too—not just these months. Looking back from when we met till this year—nearly ten years.”
She tugged her mouth. “How many tens does a life have? I won’t say I thought of you every day in the seven years apart—but I never forgot. And just when I thought I could fade you out completely—you showed up again.”
“Back and forth, again and again—anyone would get tired.”
“And you’re right. Hurt in love leaves a wound. Even when it scabs, even when it heals—the hurt was real. You remember it forever.”
“‘Let bygones be bygones’ sounds easy. It’s hard.”
Jiang Ya lowered her eyes, dim—forcing a small smile. “Yes… I know. You’re right… But…”
“Jiang Ya.” Qi Yu couldn’t bear that defeated face. Both hands on her shoulders, shook lightly. Jiang Ya looked up, startled.
Qi Yu frowned, honest: “The Jiang Ya I knew wouldn’t beg like this. Wouldn’t drill into one thing and not let go.”
“Do you know why I have to leave?”
Jiang Ya stared, silent.
Qi Yu: “First—I do want to hide from you. I don’t want to fall into the same trap. Second… these months I’ve been a mess. Moody. Volatile. I keep remembering—and I’m forgetting who I was. I can’t find myself.”
“So I want to try a new life. Find myself again. Find meaning—not drown in the same bad loop.”
“Same for you—okay? Don’t change for a temporary obsession. I don’t want that for me. I don’t want it for you.”
Jiang Ya’s lashes trembled. Brow tight—she wanted to argue: “I’m clear-headed. This isn’t obsession, you—”
“Don’t rush to deny it.” Qi Yu cut in. “Right now neither of us can be sure it isn’t obsession talking.”
“You said it too—life isn’t only romance. We’re stuck in mud—you pull, I pull—neither gets out.”
“Why not let yourself go? It’s not an attitude. It’s for yourself.” Sincere.
“Let’s both let go. Cool off. Stop thinking about this—for now. Live our own lives first.”
“Whatever the future brings—let it come. You can’t force it.”
“Jiang Ya—we have to love ourselves before we can love anyone—don’t we?”
.
Early next morning Qi Yu boarded the high-speed train to Jiangzhou.
Jiangzhou was out of province—the “city of Jiangnan” she’d imagined, folk customs, mountains and water. She rented a guesthouse near a scenic spot. Light luggage—daily things, clothes, a mirrorless camera, a laptop.
No deadline on the trip. She followed mood. Mornings out sightseeing; evenings back to sort photos and write. First days she regretted not dragging Tang Xuejun along—but within a week she got used to being alone.
Strange streets, slow steps, empty head—allowed herself to be bored enough to watch every passerby, their hurry, their joy and anger. If a shop owner told a story on a lucky day, she tucked it away—life experience, writing material.
Of course her phone didn’t go quiet.
Qi Wenping and Qi Li with the same old care. Qi Xuan venting about school pressure. Tang Xuejun with gossip. Zhou He swapping travel notes…
Sometimes—messages from Jiang Ya.
After that rainy night they were in touch again—brief, to the point. Every two days Jiang Ya sent a line about life. She replied short. Once on impulse she sent a photo—and got a hand-drawn picture back.
Qi Yu opened it, zoomed on the strokes, smiled, replied: Drawn beautifully—real artist. Want more photos?
Jiang Ya: Sure—but no time to draw now.
Qi Yu: Busy with work?
Jiang Ya: No. Going home. Something overdue—I need to say it clear.
She set the phone aside, looked at traffic ahead. Light on her lenses—a cold gleam. Face stern. Eyes ice and resolve.
She pressed the accelerator, turned a corner—almost at Licheng Apartments.
While Qi Yu was away Jiang Ya had filled her own life too. Busy at work, she picked up old hobbies—simple sketches on weekends, posted to share, surprised by likes and followers.
Unlike before—filling emptiness with meaningless plans— these two weeks she found heat and drive in a new rhythm. Life wasn’t dull anymore. People, color, a future worth expecting.
Peace never lasted.
Jiang Sheng, furious that she and Zheng Yuan had stalled, called Zheng, learned the truth, exploded. Zhou Lin rang in a panic—come home now.
In the elevator Jiang Ya watched the numbers climb, already bracing for another blow. Strange—same path as last time, mood completely different.
Even facing Jiang Sheng and Zhou Lin—after the first habitual tension—calm she’d never had.
She sat on one side of the sofa, looked at them evenly, already guessing the lecture.
Sure enough—Jiang Sheng saw her come in, greet once, then silence—cold as if it weren’t her business—and snapped: “Jiang Ya—have you no shame!”
“Explain what you said to Zheng Yuan that day!”
Zhou Lin beside him, worried: “Why bring that up for no reason! You practically chased him away on purpose!”
The familiar scolding. Jiang Ya only watched. A pause. “I didn’t want to hide. He had a right to know. And… I really didn’t want to keep seeing him.”
“Fine—don’t want to see him!” Jiang Sheng’s face flushed red, almost slamming the table. Finger at her: “Then who do you want! Zheng Yuan’s excellent—a perfect match—and you throw him away—what do you want!”
“Are you still not awake! Need me to remind you!”
His roar nearly split her ears. Jiang Ya frowned, looked down, didn’t answer.
Jiang Sheng saw her stonewall, wanted more—Zhou Lin’s hand stopped him.
Zhou Lin sat beside Jiang Ya, patting her back, anxious: “Your father’s upset—don’t take it to heart. Tell Mom—is it just that you don’t like Zheng Yuan? We can find another—no rush—isn’t it?”
“Mom.” Jiang Ya looked at Zhou Lin—calm, firm: “I don’t want to lie. I don’t want to marry. I won’t marry.”
“No!” Zhou Lin hadn’t spoken when Jiang Sheng cut in, fist on the coffee table: “Marriage is what life is for—man marries, woman marries—ancestors’ rule for generations! You want to break it—is that it!”
“Or…” His pointing finger shook. Through gritted teeth: “Or—you want to sneak around with a woman again like last time and kill us both—is that it!”
“Dad!” Jiang Ya’s hands fisted. She looked at Jiang Sheng—steady, unbowed—for the first time. Clear and strong: “I never meant to anger you. I never meant to defy you on purpose.”
“All these years I respected you, admired you—not a shred of wanting to go against you.”
“But—” Her tone shifted. Each word clear: “Dad, Mom—I’m your daughter. Not a bird you keep in a cage.”
“What are you saying, Jiang Ya—you’ve always been our daughter! Don’t we love you enough, spoil you enough! What more do you want from us!” Zhou Lin hurt and angry, voice breaking into a sob.
Jiang Sheng: “If we didn’t love you we wouldn’t care what becomes of you! Do as you please! Do you understand a parent’s heart at all!”
“But do you understand me?” One light sentence—heavy as stone.
“I want my own life. My own path—not yours laid out in advance. Otherwise I’m just a body someone steers—what’s the point of living?”
Zhou Lin clutched her chest, pained: “What did that woman pour into your head! You never talked back growing up—now for a woman you provoke us again and again—why!”
“I’m not doing it for anyone. I’m doing it for myself.” Jiang Ya stared at a corner of the table, unhurried.
Then she lifted her eyes—from Zhou Lin to Jiang Sheng. “The first twenty-some years I lived the life you programmed me—like a robot with preset commands.”
“When I was ten you sent Yaya away for ‘studying’—never asked me. I cried two nights in my room—didn’t dare tell you. In middle school you went to my teacher ‘worried about me’—my only friend was made to cut me off. After that the class isolated me. No one dared come near. Sometimes they talked behind my back. You never knew.”
“And… I don’t actually like my job now. Since I was small I wanted to be an illustrator. You said it wasn’t stable—took all my drawings—kept telling me your path was the right one…”
“Dad. Mom.” Brow tight—she hadn’t meant to wound—but tears gathered. Bitter smile at their shocked faces. “You say you love me—but you never cared what I thought. I’ve always lived by your ideas, your wishes—even my soul wasn’t mine…”
“Don’t you think—that’s a little selfish?”