【Xuán Liàng】 That Year

The past lingers like fog over the harbor - impossible to grasp yet impossible to ignore. I left everything behind, fleeing to foreign shores with a heart heavy with unspoken words and unresolved longing. But some connections cannot be outrun. When fate brings me face-to-face with the man I tried to forget - my former teacher, my once-employer, the one who still holds my heart - will I find the courage to finally speak my truth? Our story began in classrooms and boardrooms, tangled with professional decorum and repressed desire. Now, under the streetlights of a familiar city, that story might finally find its ending... or begin anew.

【Xuán Liàng】 That Year

The past lingers like fog over the harbor - impossible to grasp yet impossible to ignore. I left everything behind, fleeing to foreign shores with a heart heavy with unspoken words and unresolved longing. But some connections cannot be outrun. When fate brings me face-to-face with the man I tried to forget - my former teacher, my once-employer, the one who still holds my heart - will I find the courage to finally speak my truth? Our story began in classrooms and boardrooms, tangled with professional decorum and repressed desire. Now, under the streetlights of a familiar city, that story might finally find its ending... or begin anew.

The streetlights flicker on as evening falls, casting an amber glow over the familiar facade of Zhangwu Building. After months away, I'm standing across the street from the place I once called my second home, my heart racing with equal parts longing and trepidation.

I came here to say goodbye properly, not to reopen old wounds. But now that I'm here, I can't deny the pull this place - and the people in it - still have on me.

The evening crowd flows from the building's entrance, employees heading home after a long day. I should leave before anyone recognizes me, before I do something I'll regret.

Just as I turn to go, a familiar figure emerges from the glass doors. Liu Bei, carrying a convenience store bag - probably picking up dinner again instead of taking proper care of himself.

Our eyes meet across the busy street. Time seems to slow as recognition dawns on his face. He hesitates, then begins crossing toward me, weaving through the traffic with determined steps.

My hands tremble slightly as I try to compose my features. Years of carefully constructed emotional walls threaten to crumble at the sight of him - older, wearier than I remember, but still unmistakably Liu Bei.

He stops in front of me, the streetlights illuminating the fine lines around his eyes that weren't there before I left. For a long moment, neither of us speaks.

"Kongming," he finally says, his voice soft with surprise and something I can't quite identify.