Chapter 3 — No Resentment, No Forgiveness

Just at that moment, the two girls who shared my room returned. One had short hair, and the other wore hers in a ponytail; both were incredibly young. The girl with short hair took the initiative to strike up a conversation.

"Are you traveling alone, too?"

I nodded.

"That's wonderful! We are as well. We're planning to head to Dujiangyan tomorrow; would you like to join us?"

I offered a polite smile and shook my head.

"I’m heading west, toward Western Sichuan."

"Wow! You’re driving all by yourself? That’s so impressive!"

Exchanging a few words with them eased the tightness in my chest. Early the next morning, I checked out and continued driving toward Kangding. As I left the city limits of Chengdu and merged onto the Ya'an-Kangding Expressway, the scenery on either side began to shift. The mountains grew taller and more imposing, while tunnel followed tunnel in endless succession. Every so often, my ears popped from the changes in pressure. I turned on some music, connecting my phone via Bluetooth and hitting shuffle. The very first song to play was a track that Mingxuan and I used to listen to together constantly. I immediately skipped it, switching instead to a playlist of instrumental music.

Passing Luding, the elevation began to climb steadily. By midday, I pulled over at a roadside eatery and ordered a bowl of beef noodles. The owner, a woman in her fifties, possessed skin flushed a deep, weathered red from the harsh highland sun. She smiled warmly at me.

"Traveling alone, miss? You’ve got quite a bit of courage."

"I’m just out for a change of pace."

"That’s a fine thing to do," she replied, bringing me an extra bowl of hot broth. "The air here is so pure. The sky is a blue that you could gaze at forever without ever tiring of it. If you have anything weighing on your heart, just look up at the sky for a while; you’ll find that things feel lighter on their own."

I took a sip of the soup, and suddenly, I realized how true her words were. My phone rang again. It was Dao.

"Where are you now?"

"Almost at Kangding."

"Driving so far by yourself—can you really handle it?"

"Of course I can. Why wouldn’t I?" I laughed as I finished my noodles. "Back in the day, every time we went anywhere, Mingxuan would always complain about how exhausting driving was. I was the one who had to trade off with him."

"Now that I’m behind the wheel by myself..." I paused, "I find it feels much lighter."

Dao let out a soft sigh. "Ruoting... what exactly are you planning to do? Are you just going to keep hiding like this forever?"

I fell silent for a long moment. Gazing at the road stretching out before me, I said softly, "I’m not hiding, Dao. I just need to take some time to think this through. To figure out... what it is that I actually want."

"What is there left to think about?" Dao’s voice rose sharply. "You need to break up, obviously! He’s already registered his marriage to someone else; how can you just stand for that?"

"Of course I’m going to end it," I replied calmly. "But the way in which I do it... I need to be clear about that."

The line went silent. After a beat, Dao sighed again. "Alright. As long as you know what you’re doing. Regardless of anything else, I’ll always tell you the same thing: I’m standing by your side."

I ended the call, paid the bill, and left the shop. By evening, I reached Kangding. Rather than rushing to press on, I drove a loop around the town. The Zheduo River surged through the heart of the city, its roiling waters churning toward the horizon, the sound of the river crashing against the rocky banks echoing through every street. Elderly folk draped in traditional Tibetan robes walked slowly along the paths, spinning prayer wheels in their hands. The storefronts were hung with vibrant, colorful scarves and combs crafted from ox horn. I stood on the riverbank and snapped a photo, posting it to my social feed with only two words: "Still moving."

Not even a few minutes later, Mingxuan liked the post and left a comment: "Beautiful scenery. But please be safe, my wife."

I stared at that comment, nearly laughing aloud. My wife. What, then, does he call Siyu? Does he call her that, too? Or perhaps... my dear? When they registered their marriage, had they already begun using those names for each other? I tucked my phone into my pocket and kept walking. That night, I stayed at a small, cozy inn where the owner was remarkably welcoming.