Chapter 23 — The Day I Return

My car and his car are separated by a road and two lanes. He looked at my car. I looked at him through the glass window. The distance is about fifteen meters. Then he moved. He crossed the street — not following the road markings, but straight through the stopped traffic, advancing with long strides. Come outside my car window. The driver was stunned. Nguyen Tieu Ngu sitting next to him exclaimed "Wow". I rolled down the window. The cold autumn wind rushed in. Ky Lang stood outside, bowing his head and looking at me. Backlit. His face was hidden in shadow, but his eyes were extremely bright. So bright — it's like holding light inside.
"I said it wasn't at the airport, it wasn't peeping through the car, it wasn't through the assistant." His voice was low and hoarse, carrying a bit of rapid breathing, "So I - came here personally. On the road. You said - 'If he comes, meet him'."
I looked at him.
“Who told you I said that?”
He froze for a moment.
“Nguyen Tieu Ngu.”
I slowly turned my head to the right. Nguyen Tieu Ngu was pretending to look at the phone, but his ears were as red as boiled shrimp.
“Traitor.” I said.
“Hehehehe…” She shrank her neck.
I turned my head. Ky Lang was still standing there. The red light has turned green. The cars behind started honking loudly. He didn't care at all.
“Jiang Tang.” He reached out and opened the object he was holding tightly in his hand.
It's a tiny dark blue velvet box. Open the lid. Inside is not a ring. Is a pen. A fountain pen. It's very old. There are also faint scratches on the pen body. But I recognized it at first sight. That's the pen he gave me on my 18th birthday.
“You…” My voice choked for a beat.
“I said I moved so I lost it.” His voice was so hoarse that it was hard to hear, "It took me half a year to find it. At a second-hand market in Geneva. Your landlord sold the items you threw away."
The sound of the car horn from behind became increasingly harsh. The green light is about to end. He held the pencil case towards the car window.
“Not asking you to take it back.” He said, "It's — give it back to you. This was originally yours."
I looked at that pen. The words engraved on the pen body have faded somewhat. But if you look closely — It should still be visible. I didn't reach out to hold it. Green light turns yellow. The siren in the background had become frantic. The driver nervously turned his head to look at me: "Dr. Giang —" I looked straight into Ky Lang's eyes. He also looked at me. There was no disguise in those eyes. No calculations, no plans to control troops, no coldness familiar to the marketplace. Only — The look of not hiding, turning over all the cards of a person who has been waiting for three long years. I took a deep breath. Hold out your hand. Pen boxes will not be accepted. It was — gently pressing on his fingers placed on the edge of the glass door. Just a light touch. The temperature where the fingertips interact is less than a second. Then I withdrew my hand.
“Go home.” I said, “I have to go.”
His fingers on the window still did not retract.
“When will you come back?”
"Don't know."
“Can you wait?”
I pressed the button to roll up the window. The car window slowly raised. Before the last gap closed — I said one sentence. Very softly. But he heard it. Because I saw the corner of his eyes - that always tense angle - relax. The corners of the lips curled slightly. As if finally breathed a sigh of relief. The glass door closes. The car rolled away. Nguyen Tieu Ngu leaned forward, her eyes shining like two headlights: "What are you saying? What did you say at the end?! I didn't hear clearly!" I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. The corners of the lips draw a smile. This time I don't deny it anymore.
“You said—”
“Say what, say what?”
"Waiting for the industrial park to start construction, I have to go back and supervise."