Chapter 15 The Happiest Day

Chapter 15 The Happiest Day

Not long after, the hospital grew lively as many people arrived, including the two Lin Haoda had met the previous night, as well as many unfamiliar faces.

Without exception, everyone revolved around Guan Junshan and followed his lead. Lin Haoda stood at the outermost edge of the crowd, the only one unable to join the conversation.

But it didn't really matter. The rain that had fallen all night had stopped, and the sun had come out; he had lost the only reason to stay. However, just as he was about to take the elevator downstairs, he ran into the nurse who had drawn his blood. The nurse said that the bag of backup blood he had donated had played a significant role during the surgery.

Hearing such good news, Lin Haoda decided to share it with Guan Junshan in person. He walked over nervously, overhearing people addressing Guan Junshan as "President Guan," a stark contrast to the idle and carefree Lin Haoda. He hesitated, unsure whether to bring up such trivial matters.

Guan Junshan finished discussing business with them, stood up, and walked toward the elevator without sparing a single glance at Lin Haoda, the most invisible person in the crowd.

The others followed suit, crowding into the elevator. Lin Haoda was swept along until he reached the door, hesitating, afraid to step forward.

As the elevator doors were about to close, they suddenly opened again from inside. Guan Junshan, surrounded in the center, lifted his eyes and fixed his gaze on him. "Get in."

Lin Haoda paused for a few seconds before saying, "No need." He smiled at Guan Junshan. "I'll take the next one."

Guan Junshan reached out again and pressed the close button.

The silver-gray elevator doors gradually filled his view, Guan Junshan's features slowly obscured by blurry shadows. Just before the doors fully closed, Lin Haoda mustered his courage and took the initiative to say, "Mr. Guan, goodbye."

Guan Junshan raised his chin slightly, his lips moving, but before Lin Haoda could make out the words, the last sliver of space had completely sealed shut.

Whether it was an illusion or just sentimentality, the Guan Junshan after dawn seemed vastly different from the one who had fallen asleep watching hermit crab videos beside him the night before—almost like two different people.

To Lin Haoda, the latter was indeed more approachable. But he also understood that no matter which Guan Junshan it was, they were fundamentally different from him, separated by an insurmountable gap.

And that imagined "approachability" was like the morning mist over Hong Kong's Mid-Levels, dissipating completely as soon as the sun came out.

Lin Haoda took a cab back to the hotel, washed up briefly, and caught up on sleep. When he woke up, it was already four in the afternoon.

He sat up from the narrow single bed, his mind not fully alert. The exhaust fan in the bathroom hummed, making his chest feel tight. He reached up and pulled open the blackout curtain above his head, revealing densely packed buildings outside and sunlight squeezed into the gaps between them.

To save money, he had booked a reasonably priced hotel, sacrificing comfort for a location in Mong Kok.

The front desk clerk was very young and spoke fluent Mandarin. Even though it was still early for dinner, he enthusiastically recommended several nearby restaurants.

In the five days he had been in Hong Kong, Lin Haoda had eaten at fast-food restaurants eighty percent of the time. Now presented with better options, he found himself hesitating. Finally, he decided to check social media recommendations and chose a trendy local snack shop.

He looked up the route and had just gotten on the subway when a friend request popped up on his phone. The signal was weak, and it took a while to load fully. Lin Haoda clicked in and saw that the request message had only five words: "President Guan's lawyer."

The wind blew through the train car, and Lin Haoda caught a damp smell. After a moment of hesitation, he accepted the request.

The lawyer, whose surname was Zheng, introduced himself briefly and then explained his purpose: "President Guan asked me to handle your debt dispute."

Lin Haoda felt uneasy, his mind went blank for a moment. His first thought was: What debt dispute did he have with Guan Junshan? He hadn't even offered to split the McDonald's bill from last night.

Realizing the misunderstanding, the lawyer quickly clarified: "Not with President Guan, but between you and Mr. Liang Yuan."

Lin Haoda stared at the words on the screen for a long time, a subtle and complex emotion rising in his heart.

Guan Junshan was like a book he couldn't read, blank from start to finish, with no words or phrases he could understand. When Lin Haoda had taken the initiative to ask for help, Guan Junshan had gotten angry and taken it out on him. But now that Lin Haoda had completely given up hope, Guan Junshan had changed his tune, as if he had intended to lend a hand from the very beginning.

Unfortunately, Lin Haoda was in no position to refuse.

Whatever decision Guan Junshan made was a kindness he couldn't refuse.

So he gave up on his plan to visit the trendy shop and got off at the next stop instead. Guan Junshan's lawyer was already on his way to meet him, seemingly determined.

The sun sank a little lower, disappearing behind Hong Kong's towering skyscrapers. Lin Haoda walked out of the station, his shadow stretching long, standing out among the hurried crowd.

It wasn't long before a silver-gray sedan slowly pulled over to the curb. A middle-aged man in his fifties got out, wearing rimless glasses and a full suit. He smiled warmly and said, "Mr. Lin, have you been waiting long?"

"Just got here." Lin Haoda smiled back and took the initiative to greet him: "Lawyer Zheng."

Lawyer Zheng walked over and opened the car door for him. "Get in. Let's find a place to sit and talk."

Lin Haoda approached the car, suddenly finding it familiar. He couldn't help but take another look.

Noticing his expression, Lawyer Zheng asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Lin Haoda obediently got into the car. The driver in the front seat turned around and greeted him, "Hello, Mr. Lin."

Lin Haoda responded and leaned forward slightly to ask, "Did Mr. Guan not use this car today?"

The driver was momentarily taken aback, seemingly surprised that Lin Haoda knew such details. "Were you at the hospital this morning too, Mr. Lin?"

Lin Haoda nodded without saying much and leaned back against the seat. Before starting the car, the driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "President Guan specifically switched cars this afternoon and instructed me to bring this one to pick you up."

Lin Haoda felt a slight stir in his heart. After a moment, he said, "I see."

Half an hour later, they arrived at a coffee shop. The environment was quiet, with few people—a suitable place for Lin Haoda and the lawyer to talk in detail.

Lawyer Zheng began by briefly introducing the scope of cases he had handled, which included some well-known ones that even Lin Haoda, who wasn't much of an internet surfer, had vaguely heard of. Then he shifted the conversation, reassuring Lin Haoda that his situation wasn't too troublesome and that he shouldn't worry too much.

Lin Haoda nodded with only partial understanding, but his mind was uneasy. If he hadn't known before, now he was even more puzzled. How could such a trivial matter bother such a renowned lawyer? It would be more fitting to assign it to a fresh graduate intern under him.

Upon hearing his concerns, Lawyer Zheng said, "There's no distinction between big and small matters. Hong Kong has so many pro bono cases every year, no matter how senior the lawyer, they handle them personally."

"Besides, this time President Guan personally requested it." Lawyer Zheng looked up at him with a smile. "That makes Mr. Lin my major client in a way."

Not knowing how to respond, Lin Haoda simply thanked him again.

After the small talk ended, Lawyer Zheng took a document folder from his bag and began confirming some details with him. Lin Haoda remained calm at first, but as things went on, he grew increasingly restless, his gaze frequently flickering to the papers in the lawyer's hands. It wasn't the content that bothered him, but rather the incredible detail—not just about Lin Haoda, but also about Liang Yuan and his lover, Sammy.

"Are you okay?" Lawyer Zheng noticed Lin Haoda's unease and paused to explain. "Because time was tight, this information was compiled before we came."

What he didn't tell Lin Haoda was that the information had been packaged and sent directly by Guan Junshan.

Fortunately, Lin Haoda didn't ask further. He took a sip of his latte, his expression brightening slightly, and took the initiative to say, "I understand. Let's continue."

The rest of the discussion focused on the amount Lin Haoda wanted Liang Yuan to return and the deadline. Lin Haoda shared his thoughts, took Lawyer Zheng's advice, and an hour later, they emerged from the coffee shop. The driver, waiting in the parking lot, immediately drove over.

At 6:30 p.m., they drove through Kennedy Town. The sunset reflected on the sea, casting fragments of floating gold. Mountains, sea, and skyscrapers framed together, breathtakingly beautiful.

Just then, Guan Junshan sent a text message asking how his meeting with the lawyer had gone.

Before his reason could organize the words, his emotions drove Lin Haoda to lower the car window, extend his phone slightly outside, and record a video of the sunset over the sea.

The slightly warm evening breeze brushed his cheeks. Lin Haoda took the initiative to share this rare moment of happiness with Guan Junshan. It was only because Guan Junshan had intervened at the last minute that Lin Haoda wouldn't have to return home tomorrow empty-handed, with a completely failed relationship and future.

"The timing and the view are perfect," he wrote below the video. "Today is the happiest day I've had in Hong Kong."

Then he added, "Thank you, Mr. Guan."

Guan Junshan held his phone, lowering his eyes to read those two disjointed replies. His expression barely changed. He paused for a long time, typed something, then quickly deleted it.

In the end, he said nothing, put the phone back into his pocket, and looked up at the other side of the glass. Wu Manzhen lay quietly inside the hospital bed, the oxygen mask on her face rising and falling with each breath, covered in a thin layer of mist.

And behind him was the same row of glass windows. Guan Junshan turned around, standing on the rooftop of the twenty-story building, the sunset he saw seemed more distant and redder than the one Lin Haoda had captured, the light piercing through the thin clouds, casting a soft, shimmering radiance.

Guan Junshan walked silently to the window; even at sunset, the sun still felt slightly warm on his face.

Guan Junshan rarely made judgments about natural scenery, because the sunset and the sea view were objectively present—only the viewer's changing mindset brought about different visual experiences.

Aware of these empty platitudes, at this moment, he still couldn't help but feel a twinge of competitiveness, carefully recalling the sunset video Lin Haoda had sent, and then, subtly, a rare yearning and longing began to stir within him.

He also thought of Lin Haoda's words—"the happiest day"—was it because of the sunset over Kennedy Town? Or for some other reason?

Guan Junshan couldn't stop himself from imagining Lin Haoda's expression and tone when he typed those words. Somehow, Lin Haoda's experience of life seemed inherently easier to satisfy than others; his tears and laughter were as fleeting as passing rain showers. Guan Junshan had only helped him slightly, yet received such a high compliment.

—No one would casually describe an ordinary day in their life as "the happiest."

Except for Lin Haoda.