Chapter 46: Nowhere to Land, Nowhere to Stay

Chapter 46: No Place to Land, No Place to Stay

It was a race weekend, and the Spielberg circuit was set amid the Alps, surrounded by lush greenery under a clear sky. As the five red lights went out, the cars roared off, with several vehicles jostling for position right from the start, firing up the crowd.

Gu Hansheng stood behind the glass wall, watching Lin Su's car battling it out in the top four on the television broadcast. His secretary hurried over and handed him a bag. "Mr. Gu, we recovered your phone."

The day they arrived in Vienna, he and Lin Su had gone out for a walk by themselves, only to get his phone stolen at a bar a few hours later.

Gu Hansheng took the recovered phone from the bag. The screen was fine, but something inside was damaged—it wouldn't turn on. It was already a miracle the police had managed to get the phone back at all. Gu Hansheng hadn't held much hope anyway, but it had some private info on it that could cause him trouble if someone cracked it and leaked it.

His secretary helped him pop out the SIM card and put it into a new phone, asking, "Should I toss the old one, or bring it back for the company's tech team to fix?"

"Have it fixed back home."

Even after swapping in the SIM card, texts and call logs wouldn't sync to the new phone. But Gu Hansheng wasn't worried—work stuff had already been handled through other channels, so nothing important got delayed.

Besides, these days without any calls had given him rare peace and quiet.

Spielberg was beautiful, perfect for a getaway, but no matter how gorgeous the views or how packed the schedule, that face kept floating before his eyes. No matter how much the twin brothers looked alike, he knew exactly who kept popping into his head.

If Zhao Yu weren't Chen Xitong's brother, Gu Hansheng wouldn't have given him a second look from the very start. Letting someone so insignificant sway his thoughts and emotions—when order started to fall apart, the rules seemed to crumble with it.

But this went against his usual ways.

Of course, he was still in control. Whether Chen Xitong woke up or not, Zhao Yu's fate was his call.

...

In an office at a Los Angeles hospital, a man took off his white coat, packed up his stuff, and walked out carrying a box under one arm.

He was tall, with black hair and black eyes—an Asian face—his dark eyes holding a hint of a smile as he passed the nurses' station, giving the nurses a warm greeting. Several nurses on duty swarmed over, sad to see him go.

As an Asian guy, Zhuang Shubai had become the most talked-about ER doctor among the nurses, thanks to his good looks and gentle personality.

But he'd just resigned today. Tomorrow he'd fly to China to work at his family's hospital and take on some family business. He didn't really enjoy management—he'd rather just be a doctor—but it would be too much to ask his sister to run the hospital all by herself.

After his sister begged him a few times, he softened and agreed to go back.

There were quite a few people waiting for the elevator, and since his floor wasn't high, he decided to take the stairs. A few steps down, he suddenly heard faint crying from below—muffled, broken, and hard to make out.

Patients or their families breaking down in hospitals was nothing new, and Zhuang Shubai had seen it plenty during his years in the ER. He was very patient, sometimes having to comfort patients and families while doing emergency care, keeping his cool even in the most chaotic situations.

He looked down and saw the top of a young man's dark head sitting on the steps.

Lots of people cried, but not many hid away to do it. Hiding meant not wanting anyone to see them vulnerable.

Zhuang Shubai didn't know what had happened to him and didn't want to barge into his personal space or intrude on his moment. As he hesitated, the young man lifted his head a little, seeming to gasp for air between sobs.

Just from catching a glimpse of part of his face, Zhuang Shubai recognized him, surprised.

A few years back, this young man had come to the ER with an older woman. He'd been seriously hurt—multiple bruises, broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and several bloody wounds. His clothes were even torn, covered in splatters of blood. Yet he hadn't seemed all that scared; instead, he kept comforting the woman, telling her not to worry.

Maybe because they were both Asian and spoke the same language, Zhuang Shubai had a particularly strong impression of him. He remembered the young man quietly telling him, "Doctor, if the results aren't good, don't tell my aunt—tell me instead."

Zhuang Shubai could hear the nervousness in his voice and realized he wasn't unafraid—he was just putting on a brave face.

Seeing him again today, he found him sobbing his heart out. How could someone so strong cry like this?

Zhuang Shubai felt a gentle tug at his heart.

He stopped unexpectedly, neither going down nor turning away, but stood listening to the young man's cries for a long time, until the sobbing slowly faded. The young man wiped his face with the back of his hand, seeming to pull himself together.

After several calls went unanswered, Zhao Yu gave up trying. He shouldn't have called Gu Hansheng in the first place—it was just that in that moment of breaking down, he hadn't been able to stop himself. A few hours had passed, and he had gradually calmed down, realizing how ridiculous his behavior had been.

Aunt Guo's body was still in the morgue. He didn't have time to fall apart—at the very least, he needed to take care of Meng Qi and let Aunt Guo go in peace.

He heard very soft footsteps behind him. He quickly ducked his head, awkwardly hiding his tear-streaked face, but a tissue was immediately held out to him.

"Are you okay?" Zhuang Shubai's magnetic, gentle voice rang out softly, carrying a soothing tone.

"Thank you." Zhao Yu didn't look up, reaching out to take the tissue.

"Are the test results bad? I can take a look at your reports for you."

Zhao Yu finally looked up at him, finding him vaguely familiar. After studying him for a moment, he asked hesitantly, "Are you... Dr. Zhuang?"

Zhuang Shubai smiled: "I didn't expect you to remember me."

Having a Chinese doctor at the LA hospital had naturally made a deep impression on Zhao Yu. Plus, Zhuang Shubai had been super careful when treating his wounds, even noticing the subtle winces of pain on his face, and had pulled a strawberry-flavored candy from his pocket, treating him like a kid.

Zhuang Shubai asked again, "So, what happened?"

Zhao Yu lowered his gaze: "A family member passed away."

"Accident or illness?"

"Cancer."

Cancer was a long, drawn-out ordeal—this period must have been agonizing for him. Zhuang Shubai looked at his red, swollen eyes and felt a pang of sympathy: "The ODA (Office of Decedent Affairs) will help you handle the necessary procedures. If you need anything, you can tell me, and I'll help you communicate with them."

Zhao Yu's mind went blank. He shook his head. "Thanks, but I don't want to put you out. My brother's still waiting for me, so I should get going."

He stood up and walked away, but Zhuang Shubai called out again, "Zhao Yu!"

Years had passed, and he had handled so many patients, yet he still remembered Zhao Yu's name.

He stepped forward and handed him a business card: "Contact me if you need help."

Zhao Yu looked down at the string of phone numbers on the white card. Feeling cared for again, his nose tingled with emotion. He nodded, held back his tears, and hurried away.

Zhuang Shubai let out a soft sigh, canceled his flight for tomorrow, and booked a new ticket for a week later.

Guo Lin had planned all her funeral arrangements while she was still lucid—cremation followed by a sea burial—and had entrusted her estate lawyer to handle the various tedious procedures for Zhao Yu and Meng Qi.

Even in the final stage of her life, she was still thinking of the two children. That's how mothers are—no matter how old their children grow, they can never stop worrying.

On the day of Guo Lin's cremation, Meng Qi wailed like a child. Zhao Yu held him, but before he could even speak words of comfort, he was crying too.

From then on, they could only see her in photos and videos, and perhaps sometimes in dreams.

That evening, Zhao Yu went to Guo Lin's former restaurant. The sign had already been taken down, and the interior was being renovated, apparently set to become a burger joint.

He stood outside the door for a long time, memories surfacing before his eyes.

Meng Qi had always been a bit slow since childhood. Zhao Yu sometimes liked to play tricks on him, and when Guo Lin caught them, she'd join in on the mischief, and the three of them would often end up laughing together.

Zhao Yu would also secretly help Meng Qi with his homework. When Guo Lin found out, both of them got their ears twisted.

Once, a classmate who had led the bullying against Zhao Yu came to the restaurant to eat. Guo Lin smothered his pork cutlet in chili sauce, making him cry while chugging water, his lips swollen like sausages. Zhao Yu hid in the back kitchen watching, laughing until tears streamed down his face.

One year, for Zhao Yu's birthday, Meng Qi used his pocket money to buy a small cake, while Guo Lin bought a big one. Right here, one night when the restaurant was closed, all the lights were off, and the place was filled with empty tables and chairs, they sat at one of those empty tables, stacking the two cakes together. Guo Lin stuck eighteen candles into the top and had Zhao Yu make a wish.

Back then, Zhao Yu's wish was that happiness like that day would last forever.

Now he understands that nothing can stay the same forever. People are born, age, fall ill, and die; love and hate fade into the wind. When all that once was fades like smoke, he only feels lonely and lost.

The lighthouse of his life has gone out, leaving him adrift on a vast, dark sea, unsure how to reach the shore.

On this lonely, bewildering night, when he suddenly thought of Gu Hansheng, his heart clenched and throbbed with pain again.

He realized his calls might go unanswered forever.

His love was one-sided, and he didn't matter to Gu Hansheng.

Even if the call connected, would that man come to him? Would that man understand his pain and sorrow? Would he offer even a sliver of comfort?

No. None of it would happen.

He had fallen for someone who didn't love him, and the affection he craved was something Gu Hansheng would never give.

But he loved him like a moth to a flame, hoping to catch just a little of the care that leaked out from the love Gu Hansheng gave Chen Xitong.

In this warm season, Zhao Yu felt a chill creep into his collar, as if his warmth was being swept away by the Los Angeles sea breeze.

This city, where he had lived for so many years, gave him no sense of belonging, and his hometown left him with few good memories. He was stranded on this pitch-black street, unsure where to go, where he could even go, or by whose side he could catch his breath.

Meng Qi was temporarily staying with a kind neighbor aunt. The community and school had provided him with a lot of help, and with the inheritance Guo Lin left him, his life for the next few years would be fine. Zhao Yu felt relieved as well.

Many things had settled. The apartment Zhao Yu had rented with Zhao Lianfeng before had long been returned, and he had checked into a hotel room. For a moment, he felt lost, as if all the strength had been drained from his body, leaving him listless.

One morning, he received a message from Chen Li and sat up in bed in a rush.

Chen Xitong had woken up.

"Author's Note"

Second update.