Crazy Beautiful Fishing Master Chasing His Wife's Crematorium - Chapter 26

Steaming Dumplings and New Year’s Day

The steaming hot dumplings were served, and the CCTV Spring Festival Gala had come to an end.

Xiang Feiwan had intended to have a drink, but being watched by Ye Sangyu, she silently put down the wine cup.

Both their phones rang two or three times in succession.

New Year’s wishes, like the festive atmosphere now, were copied, pasted, and mass-sent, completely lacking in originality.

To write a greeting individually, even just the four words “Happy New Year,” meant that person held you in their heart.

Ye Sangyu had very few friends, and Su Zhi was the one who sent the most messages.

Pictures of firecrackers, fireworks, New Year’s feasts, family gatherings… and of course, her selfies.

Ye Sangyu started looking through them only after finishing her dumplings. She seriously looked through all of them and replied one by one. Su Zhi replied: “I love this feeling, everything I share with you, you look at, and you reply seriously.”

The greatest motivation for sharing is the other person’s feedback, which Ye Sangyu had experienced when she loved Xiang Feiwan, and the memory was particularly deep.

Ye Sangyu shared a photo of the dumplings, served on a blue and white porcelain plate. The dumplings were plump and round, wreathed in white steam, looking very appetizing.

Dong Zhengting not only sent New Year’s wishes but also a separate red envelope.

She politely declined the red envelope and apologized for not being able to keep the appointment that evening.

Dong Zhengting generously said it was no problem, but reminded her to protect herself, concluding with a reminder: “Wanwan is your friend, so it’s not convenient for me to say much, but you are quite simple, and easily hurt. I can only temporarily remind you not to easily trust anyone, and you must protect yourself.”

Ye Sangyu let out a slight sneer at the word “simple.”

The other messages were mainly from Hua Xin Group; they were group messages, so she simply didn’t reply.

Finally, she clicked into the family group chat, where only her message was visible.

She slowly typed a line: “Dad, Mom, I’m in New York this year, celebrating New Year with her. I had sauerkraut and pork dumplings; the filling she made tasted quite good.”

The last message she hadn’t replied to was Xiang Feiwan’s.

The screen lingered on Xiang Feiwan’s “Happy New Year.” She pressed her fingertip to the screen, staring blankly, and finally exited WeChat.

Xiang Feiwan sat opposite her, and her phone was also ringing non-stop. Some people called her, and she also made some outgoing calls.

Ye Sangyu vaguely heard Xiang Feiwan affectionately call out “Qiushui,” probably her sister-controlling younger sister was throwing a tantrum again, and the two sisters weren’t spending New Year’s together.

Ye Sangyu, to avoid any awkwardness, got up and walked to the window. The snow outside had stopped long ago, and the night was starting to become quiet.

She vaguely heard Xiang Feiwan talking about an art exhibition, probably something related to Qin Feiran.

Xiang Feiwan and Qin Xisheng had always been very close. The mention of that name always made her feel displeased.

When she came out after taking a shower, the dining table had been tidied up, and Xiang Feiwan was still on the phone by the window.

Ye Sangyu returned to the bedroom and lay down, feeling sleepy but unable to fall asleep.

She tossed and turned, got up to leave the door ajar, and then buried herself in the covers again.

After a long time, there was no movement in the living room. She carried her blanket and threw it onto the sofa. Xiang Feiwan’s door was also not closed, and a nightlight was on in the room.

She curled up on the sofa, sighed a long breath, closed her eyes, and her heart gradually calmed, feeling drowsy.

Xiang Feiwan couldn’t sleep. She tiptoed out of bed, and as soon as she left the bedroom, she saw a leg sticking out from the side of the sofa.

The person seemed to be sleeping soundly, but her back was always hunched, with half a leg exposed, a very uncomfortable sleeping position.

Xiang Feiwan bent down and tentatively hugged her. Ye Sangyu indeed whimpered; her sleep was always lighter here than in Iceland.

Ultimately, she had to give up. Xiang Feiwan returned to her room to get a quilt, spread it on the floor, and lay down beside the sofa.

Ye Sangyu’s arm hung down, her wrist fair and slender, like a piece of fine white jade. Her delicate fingertips were slightly curled, and her neatly trimmed nails were round and cute.

She couldn’t sleep, staring at Ye Sangyu’s hand in a trance, while her mind was still contemplating her subsequent plans. She only closed her eyes when it was almost dawn.

As the sky began to lighten slightly, Ye Sangyu felt the need to use the restroom, momentarily confused about where she was.

She stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, her heart momentarily fluttering with panic, but her keen sense of smell caught a familiar faint scent—a scent that was ingrained in her memory. She felt at ease again.

After lying there for a few seconds, she remembered that she needed to go to the bathroom and sat up. Her foot immediately touched a soft object.

She thought it was a hallucination, so she nudged it with her toe, and Xiang Feiwan let out a low “hmm.”

She looked down and opened her eyes, which startled her. She inwardly grumbled: “Why is she lying here? Isn’t she afraid of being stepped on?”

Back on the sofa, Ye Sangyu couldn’t sleep anymore.

She lay straight for a while, then suddenly an idea struck her. She wondered why Xiang Feiwan hadn’t had a nightmare this time.

Little did she know, Xiang Feiwan had only recently fallen asleep.

Ye Sangyu tilted her head and lay there, openly staring at her.

Xiang Feiwan’s facial features were highly recognizable, sharp and distinct, the kind of look that was extremely aggressive—the kind of person you wouldn’t want to mess with.

Xiang Feiwan’s sleeping posture was also very proper, reserved and restrained, unlike Ye Sangyu, who would let loose and could sleep from the headboard to the foot of the bed.

Her red lips were slightly closed, and her breathing was long and peaceful. Ye Sangyu played a prank, deliberately pinching her nose. Xiang Feiwan struggled, and she secretly let go.

Ye Sangyu often felt an internal conflict. On one hand, she felt that Xiang Feiwan seemed to love her very much; on the other hand, she couldn’t forget the events of the past two years.

She was stuck in the middle of memory and the future, and this middle was called reality. She couldn’t step out of the past, nor could she step into the future.

Amidst her wild thoughts, Ye Sangyu fell back asleep.

She was positioned with her head hanging off the edge of the bed in an inverted posture, and her drool dripped onto Xiang Feiwan’s face.

When Xiang Feiwan first felt her face, she thought she had drooled on herself. When she looked up, the little one was “fishing” (for her) with a silver thread of saliva.

Both of them didn’t sleep soundly, waking and dozing until they finally got up at noon.

It was customary to eat dumplings on the morning of the first day of the Lunar New Year. Ye Sangyu was boiling dumplings in the kitchen, and Xiang Feiwan was washing rice. Ye Sangyu yawned and asked, “Aren’t you having dumplings?”

“I eat vegetarian on the first and fifteenth days of the Lunar month,” Xiang Feiwan poured the rice into a casserole and set it to simmer over a low fire.

They ate their respective meals, and Ye Sangyu helped clean up afterward.

In the afternoon, she changed her clothes, preparing to go out for a walk. Xiang Feiwan stood at the door, blocking her way: “I’m going with you.”

This felt like her in the past, following Xiang Feiwan like a little shadow. It seemed there was a cycle to all things in the world, and love was no different.

Ye Sangyu waited at the door. After a few seconds, Xiang Feiwan called out to her. When she didn’t answer, Xiang Feiwan peeked out to look at her: “I thought you left.”

“Hurry up.”

In a little while, Xiang Feiwan called out again: “Little Ye? Little Ye? Sangyu?”

“Hurry up!”

Xiang Feiwan was trying to manage with only one functional hand, and the difficulty was obvious. When she pulled the decorative belt a little too hard, her palm flared with pain.

She started choosing shoes and called out, “Sangyu, are you still there?”

The person at the door said boredly, “No.”

Xiang Feiwan smiled, poking her head out to look. Ye Sangyu’s face was stern: “What are you giggling about? Hurry up.”

Ye Sangyu was wearing black leather boots. Xiang Feiwan picked a similar style and put them on: “Let’s go, we can head out now.”

Xiang Feiwan was meticulously dressed, looking like a model from Bazaar, which made Ye Sangyu feel a bit rough in comparison.

Ye Sangyu stood with her hands behind her back, waiting for Xiang Feiwan to open the door. The window was half-open for ventilation, and as the door opened, a gust of wind whooshed to the entrance, lifting the strands of Xiang Feiwan’s hair resting on her shoulder.

Ye Sangyu looked her up and down, crinkling her nose, catching a faint smell of blood.

Xiang Feiwan looked down at herself: “Doesn’t it look good?”

“Hands up!” Ye Sangyu mimicked a gun with her fingers. Xiang Feiwan raised her left hand. Ye Sangyu pointed to her right hand: “Raise it up.”

The right hand was the bandaged one, and the gauze was already soaked with blood.

“You’re quite sick.” Ye Sangyu pulled her back to change the gauze and lectured her thoroughly. Xiang Feiwan didn’t respond, instead changing the subject: “Where should we go outside?”

Ye Sangyu consciously tied a beautiful bow for her and said irritably, “To drink the northwest wind, do you want to go?”

The two of them left the house already at 3 PM.

Walking one behind the other towards the bustling downtown, Ye Sangyu saw that even in the bustling international metropolis some people spoke of, there were vagrants with little clothing or food. Some huddled in corners, seemingly trying to hide themselves; others were throwing punches, vying only for a slightly warmer spot illuminated by the sun.

People came and went around them, with noise and laughter, and no one paid attention to the filth and squalor in the shadows.

A group of young people approached them, whistling. Xiang Feiwan ignored them, and Ye Sangyu didn’t even raise her head, but someone deliberately bumped into Xiang Feiwan.

Ye Sangyu looked up. Xiang Feiwan was bumped right into her arms. She held onto her and demanded that the person apologize.

The person naturally refused, swearing instead.

Ye Sangyu was about to step forward to argue, but Xiang Feiwan grabbed her hand and shook her head: “It’s okay, no need to bother with them.”

Xiang Feiwan’s philosophy was still the same: if a dog bites you, you can’t bite it back.

Ye Sangyu turned back and glared fiercely, snapping, “Then I can smash its dog head.”

Xiang Feiwan smiled and said, “It’s enough that you care about me.”

“I don’t care about you,” she immediately stopped being angry, feigning indifference. “I’m just defending the rights of a Chinese person.”

Xiang Feiwan was behind her, smiling faintly, with a look that said, everything you say is right.

The promised walk was nothing more than shopping. The large luxury brands were cheaper than they were in China.

Ye Sangyu wasn’t very interested. Xiang Feiwan said she would buy for her, but Ye Sangyu pouted, “I have money.”

Xiang Feiwan looped her arm through hers: “Then why don’t you buy for me?”

“Wouldn’t that be me keeping you?” Ye Sangyu raised an eyebrow, sizing her up, and deliberately said, “What’s so special about you? I might as well keep a young and beautiful university student.”

Xiang Feiwan let go of her hand and didn’t speak for a long time.

When Ye Sangyu went to the restroom and came out, she saw Xiang Feiwan looking in the mirror, her fingertip pressed near the corner of her eye, seriously searching for wrinkles, not noticing her presence at all.

Waiting outside, she couldn’t help but feel a little emotional—even someone that beautiful could feel insecure.

As she thought this, she glimpsed Xiang Feiwan, who had just emerged. She had applied subtle, exquisite makeup. Her eyes were lively and expressive, reaching a new height of beauty. Coupled with her bright, moist cherry lips, she was like a touch of crimson stained on white snow, showing an inner assertiveness beneath a reserved exterior.

“Sangyu?” Xiang Feiwan walked up to her and waved her hand. Ye Sangyu realized she had been staring, immediately looked away, and strode straight ahead.

“Want to see a movie?” Xiang Feiwan asked, following behind. Ye Sangyu only then realized the consequence of her headlong rush was ending up in a movie theater. She bought tickets on impulse; they could enter immediately.

Their seats were towards the back, away from the crowd. As Ye Sangyu breathed, she could smell a delicate fragrance amidst the mixed scents, which came from Xiang Feiwan.

The bright light from the large screen cast a soft glow on their features. Just then, Xiang Feiwan turned her head slightly. Their eyes met, a silent collision in the darkness, filled with ambiguous tension.

Ye Sangyu’s heart suddenly raced, and a rush of heat surged up, making her feel a little restless.

She got up and went to the restroom but didn’t return to the theater. After a short while, Xiang Feiwan found her. Ye Sangyu was sitting at a table, drinking water.

“When are we going back to China?” Ye Sangyu suddenly asked.

“When do you want to go?”

She said she wanted to return tomorrow. The next day, they truly boarded a flight back—a private plane, piloted by Dong Qing, who said she and Xiang Feiwan had gotten their licenses together.

On the way, Ye Sangyu felt drowsy and took a nap. When she woke up, the plane had already landed.

She rubbed her eyes: “We arrived so quickly?”

“There’s a beautiful island here. General Manager Xiang said you should see it before you leave.” Dong Qing got up and opened the cabin door. Ye Sangyu stepped out to a cool, refreshing breeze: “Where’s Xiang Feiwan?”

“Ah, General Manager Xiang had to leave for an urgent matter.” Dong Qing turned back to her: “I’ll accompany you to look around tomorrow. Does that work for you?”

Ye Sangyu wandered around, stopping and starting. The island scenery was lovely, with tall trees and lush greenery, definitely beautiful. But she always felt like something was missing.

At dusk, she sat by the sea, facing the ocean breeze. In the distance, the fog obscured the towers, and the moon bewildered the ferry crossings.

Under the vast, boundless sky, she felt a sense of nihilism, an empty heart with nowhere to anchor.

After a long time, her phone rang. Ye Sangyu had a faint premonition, pulled out her phone, and indeed, it was a call from Xiang Feiwan.

Xiang Feiwan’s gentle, clear voice carried a subtle sorrow: “Maybe you won’t believe it, but I miss you very much. I miss you every minute and every second.”

At that moment, the night was clear and dustless, the moonlight like silver. Her heart gradually filled, and the sense of emptiness completely dissipated.

Xiang Feiwan whispered, “Did you miss me? Even just a little bit counts. Did you?”

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