Together Forever - Extra 1

Volume 3, Extra 1: The Goodbye I Owe You (1)

The winter he separated from Tong Yan, he returned to Philadelphia.

It was supposed to be a seven-day trip for a post-surgery checkup, a requirement for his visa renewal. Unexpectedly, a new project came up, a hedge fund investment involving both the Philadelphia and China offices.

With his grandfather's health improving, and no pressing reason to return to Beijing, he decided to extend his stay indefinitely.

Luo Zihao and Pingfan both came to visit him for Christmas.

Luo Zihao arrived early, but Pingfan, after visiting a friend, didn’t arrive until Christmas Eve. Outside, the festive atmosphere was warm and inviting, but inside, two men sat hunched over their computers, typing away.

“Is it Christmas today?” Pingfan asked, feeling like she had stepped into an alternate reality.

Luo Zihao sighed dramatically. “Merry Christmas. Finally, someone to talk to.”

Pingfan chuckled.

If Gu Pingsheng wanted to ignore someone, it was easy; he simply had to look away, retreating into his own world, completely undisturbed.

Pingfan, a devout Christian, always spent Christmas Eve at church, attending Midnight Mass.

Unable to bear the solitude, Luo Zihao joined her. They returned early Christmas morning to find Gu Pingsheng in the kitchen, heating milk. The only sounds were the soft bubbling of the milk and the hum of the refrigerator.

A manila envelope suddenly blocked his view. He looked up and saw Gu Pingfan. “I took care of everything.”

He opened the envelope and examined the documents. “It seems to be missing the alimony agreement.”

Gu Pingfan took out a loaf of bread from the refrigerator, sliced off two pieces, and took a bite. “My dear lawyer, don’t forget, I’m your senior. Of course I took care of everything. The problem is, your Mrs. Gu is also a law student; she’s scrutinizing every word, worried she’ll be taking advantage of you. You should have it by Lunar New Year. I’ve never handled a divorce case where both parties were so worried about the other being shortchanged.”

He continued examining the documents.

The kitchen was impeccably clean, almost sterile. Pingfan, not a cook herself, felt a pang of… loneliness. She leaned against the refrigerator door, studying him thoughtfully.

Gu Pingsheng, sensing her gaze, turned his head slightly, silently inviting her to speak.

“What did Tong Yan say to you when she broke up with you?” she asked, after a moment of careful consideration. “I hinted that neither you nor I would blame her for leaving.”

After a brief silence, he said, “What she said… doesn’t matter. It wasn’t the truth.”

Gu Pingfan raised an eyebrow, finishing her bread. “You weren’t like this as a child. You never let me touch anything you liked. If you didn’t get what you wanted to eat, you’d rather have plain rice than try something else. TK, weren't you always possessive?”

He took a sip of the warm milk.

It was too hot.

When he was home, Tong Yan always made sure the milk was the perfect temperature.

“If you had tried harder, she wouldn’t have been so insistent,” Pingfan said.

“If she were your younger sister, and we weren’t related, would you still say that? Would you advise your sister to stay with someone… with an incurable illness?”

Gu Pingfan smiled faintly. “Family… changes things. I suppose I’m being selfish.”

“If your future husband could die at any moment, would you spend every day consumed by anxiety? Or despair?”

Gu Pingfan chuckled. “Don’t jinx me.”

She hadn’t answered directly, but her silence spoke volumes.

He checked the time and tested the milk again.

Still too hot.

He couldn't fathom her patience, her ability to perfect even the smallest details, every single day.

There were things he hadn’t told Pingfan.

Tong Yan had always been careful, hiding her family situation from everyone. Even Pingfan, even Shen Yao, her best friend, only knew about her parents’ divorce, not the extent of their… dysfunction.

Before he turned twenty-three, his deepest shame had been his family.

Although he loved his mother deeply, her affair with a married man, his own status as an illegitimate child, had forced him to live in the shadows, a secret shame that had haunted him for twenty-three years, a burden Tong Yan now shared: the inability to abandon family, the deep-seated sense of inadequacy.

At twenty, she wasn't fully mature, not yet equipped to handle such emotional complexities.

Yet, because she loved him, because she loved Gu Pingsheng, she was enduring far more than he had at her age.

His first memory of Tong Yan was of a young girl in a sapphire blue evening gown, standing in the spotlight, winking at the band as she sang, completely immersed in the performance. His last memory of her, however, was of a young woman determined to learn everything she could about his illness, meticulously checking his pulse and heart rate, always needing to know where he was, if he was safe.

So many times, she had smiled at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

After Christmas came the New Year.

His grandfather, seriously ill, had insisted he return to China for the Lunar New Year.

On New Year’s Eve, the children in the family rushed outside to watch the fireworks. Time seemed to fly by once you turned thirty. He remembered, vividly, how Tong Yan had snuggled in his arms last New Year’s Eve, excitedly asking to visit his grandfather, her joy unrestrained when he agreed.

She had arrived full of excitement, yet hadn't even met his grandfather.

He seemed to be popular with the children. After midnight, the little ones, still in their winter coats, crowded around him, bombarding him with questions.

“Uncle, fingers crossed,” a little girl said, crossing her index and middle fingers. “Is this right?”

Gu Pingsheng chuckled. “Did your aunt teach you that?”

“No,” she said proudly. “I heard it on the radio yesterday. A lady said someone taught her to do this if she was worried about failing her Physics exam. To pray for good luck.”

The familiar gesture brought Tong Yan to mind.

The little girl crossed both her hands. “I’m praying for Grandpa and Uncle to be healthy and live long lives.”

He would remember that simple conversation even after returning to Philadelphia.

During a video conference, as the lawyers were gathering their documents, he suddenly said, in Chinese, to the project assistants in the China office, “I need some information.”

The assistants, his former colleagues, quickly grabbed pens and paper.

“Recordings of all Beijing radio programs from last Lunar New Year’s Eve, specifically the 29th, evening programs, from five to eleven PM.”

They wrote it down without question, then, remembering his deafness, added, “We’ll provide transcripts.”

“Okay,” he said, then added, “Send me the audio files as well.”

That evening, after receiving the files, he scanned the transcripts, finally finding the familiar words. Although it was just a written record, he recognized her voice, her style.

It was a traffic radio program, with a simple title: Keeping You Company.

Two hosts, and Tong Yan was one of them, an “intern host.”

She hadn’t spoken much during the program, except near the end, when she took a call from a high school senior, a science student worried about his Physics grade.

Instead of offering generic encouragement, she had shared her own struggles with Physics, telling the caller that no exam was worth fearing, that even someone like her, who had retaken university Physics four times, had managed to find a job, hosting a radio show.

Gu Pingsheng smiled; her struggles with Physics were clearly a defining experience.

Reading the transcript, he could almost picture her, her expressions, her gestures. The transcriber had been meticulous, even noting, “The intern host chuckled softly.”

“Fingers crossed, I hope you pass your exam.”

She had said someone had taught her that gesture before her final Physics exam.

Crossing your middle finger over your index finger, praying for good luck.

He reread the transcript, then stood up and stretched.

She had been returning to Shanghai for her final exams then.

On the way to the airport, she had been restless, leaning against him, her cheek brushing against his shoulder, and when he finally chuckled, looking down at her, she had asked anxiously, “What if I fail Physics again? I won’t graduate…”

“You scored eighty-six on the practice test last night. It’s just nerves,” he had said, taking her hand and crossing her fingers, teaching her the gesture. “Fingers crossed, you’ll pass.”

Tong Yan had nodded, crossing both her hands. “Fingers crossed, pass Physics, graduate, get married.”

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