Chapter 9 — The Day I Return

“After my father passed away, my mother found me.” Ky Lang's voice was very flat, but his fingers clenched his teacup until it turned pale, "He said, Giang Ninh agreed to marry you, not caring how long you lived. He said - it's better for you to marry someone who can die at any time, than for you to suffer."
The room was so quiet that you could hear the sound of bamboo leaves rubbing outside the window.
"He said," He continued, his voice even deeper, "If you don't agree, he will tell you about my illness. Let me come and take care of you, waiting for the day I die. He said with your personality - you will definitely bury your whole life in it."
I closed my eyes. In my mind, my mother's face appeared. His face is always calculating, always sharp, always hanging on his lips the three words "for your good".
“So I agree.”
“I didn't agree right away.” His throat moved slightly, "I lasted three months. Finally... it was my sister who came to find me. She said she volunteered."
“She volunteered.” I repeat this word.
His voice was very light, as if he was talking about something that had nothing to do with him. But only I know that at that moment, the place where my heart was was filled with a dull pain. Not because of Ky Lang. But because of my mother. Because from beginning to end, I was the only one blindfolded and kept in the dark.
“Third question.”
I opened my eyes and looked at him.
“How is your health now?”
He was stunned. Obviously I didn't expect my third question to be this.
“Three years ago I had minimally invasive heart surgery.” He said, "A new method, successful. Post-surgery recovery up to now... all indicators are normal."
“So you're okay now.”
“The doctor said… at least there won't be any more sudden deaths.”
I said "Yes" once. Raise the tea cup and take another sip. The tea has gone cold. He still looks at me. In the eyes there was careful exploration, there was frantic expectation, there was…
“Jiang Tang.” He called both my full name and my first name, his voice lowered very low, "For three years now, I've always —"
“Ky Lang.”
I put down the tea cup.
“I'm done asking.”
His words got stuck in his throat.
“Thank you for telling me.” My voice wavered, “But none of this will change anything.”
His face changed.
“Your illness, my mother's calculations, my sister's 'sacrifice' — those are all between you.” I stood up, grabbed my coat, "It has nothing to do with me."
“How can it have nothing to do with you?” He suddenly stood up, raised his voice a little, “I did all this —”
“You did all this, have you ever asked me a word?”
His movements were stiff. I looked at him.
“Ky Lang, have you ever thought about a problem — if you told me the truth that year, what do you think I would have done?”
His lips moved, but no sound came out.
“I will stay.” I said, "Yes, it's in my nature to go in. I'll be by your side, no matter how long you may live. That's my choice."
His eye sockets turned red.
“But you don't give me the right to choose.”
I put on my shirt.
"You made the decision for me. You, my mother, my sister, the three of us sat together and discussed everything, hiding everything from me. Then you let me get a huge slap right at your wedding - you think I don't know what you're doing." look at me? He stood on stage, towering over everyone to look at me.”
My voice finally had a tremor. But I quickly pressed it down.
“The way you looked at me on stage at that time was the image I hated most in my entire life.”
His hands hung limply at his sides, his fingertips trembling.
“It makes me hate it even more than when you said 'we can't'. Because 'I can't', I can give up, but that look - tells me you have me in your heart, but you don't need me."