Chapter 11: The Old Flame

Humans are always obsessed with the "bustle of life." Jude sat on a roadside rest bench, staring blankly at the steam rising from a breakfast stall across the street.

He had headed out late, so the morning rush had already passed. The breakfast shop was beginning to wrap up, with only an occasional late-riser scurrying past to grab the last of the food before making a dash for their destination. Jude licked his lips, wondering what the soy milk Clara loved so much actually tasted like.

"Move aside, young man. I need to sweep here."

The cleaning lady gestured with her broom. Jude shifted to the side, his gaze falling on the chapped skin on the back of the woman’s hand.

"Does it hurt?"

"Hmm?" The woman paused, confused as to why this stranger was suddenly talking to her.

"There," Jude pointed to the back of her hand. "Does it hurt?"

"Oh, you mean this? It's alright. Anyone doing rough work gets chapped hands; I’m used to it." The woman slowly packed her tools. "You’ve been sitting here for a long time, young man. The temperature hasn't picked up yet; be careful not to catch a cold."

With half his face buried in his mask, Jude gave a low hum of acknowledgment. He watched her disappear at the intersection, then turned his attention to reviewing the conversation he had just initiated. His tone when asking the question seemed a bit stiff—must change that. The timing of the question was a bit abrupt—must change that too... Jude sat there thinking, and ten minutes passed in a flash.

During this time, Clara returned his call, asking what was happening. Jude told a lie, saying they were out of toilet paper at home and asking if he could go downstairs to buy some. There was a half-second pause on the other end.

"Can you go by yourself?"

"I can," Jude breathed out, mimicking the way the children on the street exhaled, though the white mist he hoped for did not appear in the air. "I won't go far, just to the convenience store downstairs in the complex. I’ll come home right after I’m done. Okay, Clarie?"

"Fine," Clara said, still sounding a bit uneasy. "Keep your mask and hat on. Don't wander off."

"I know, Clarie."

Deceptive words were actually quite easy to say. Jude held his phone and lowered his eyes. If he had a heart, would it be racing at this moment, or would it be as still as water? He placed his hand over his chest, feeling somewhat lost.

Before returning home, Jude circled to the convenience store to buy some daily necessities. Clara had linked her payment system to the phone she bought for him. Occasionally, when she took him downstairs, she would let him practice the payment process, but today was the first time he had operated it independently. Everything went smoothly. When the owner asked if he wanted a plastic bag, Jude thought that next time he should remember to bring a bag from home. Clara had said that was called being "eco-friendly."

His time spent out alone dissipated quickly. Jude curled up on the sofa out of boredom, flipping through television channels until he stopped on a news segment: "Julian Hayes appointed as new Chairman of the Hayes Group; announces plans to return to domestic development soon." The man on the news was surrounded by a sea of camera flashes. Beneath a gentle expression lay a hint of coldness, and his phrasing when answering reporters was so tactful it was impossible to find a flaw. After playing it back several times, Jude began to mimic everything he saw in front of the mirror.

What exactly was different? Aside from those physiological deficiencies, what made him different from Julian? Their height, looks, voice... he could even replicate the exact curve of a smile to match Julian’s. What was it? What was different?

Jude sat cross-legged in front of the mirror, belatedly realizing that the emotion he was feeling should be labeled as "disappointment" or "distress."

On the weekend, Clara went to attend a university classmate's wedding. Before she left, Jude asked if she could take him along. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Little comrade, don't push your luck," Clara said while putting on her shoes. "Most of my college classmates know Julian. If I took you, I wouldn't make it back alive today."

Jude didn't say anything, silently handing her her bag.

Clara glanced at him and explained, "They’re quite gossipy. I don't want them to misunderstand anything."

"I know."

"I'll try to be back early. Wait for me at home, okay?"

"Mm," Jude suddenly stepped forward and gave her a light, tentative embrace. The robot’s cold temperature seeped through her clothes and coiled around her heart. "I saw them do this on TV. Stay safe on the road. I’ll wait for you to come back, Clarie."

"...Watch fewer soap operas and more social news."

Clara fled, unable to face that one-to-one recreation of Julian’s face.

On her way, she recalled the changes that had occurred in Jude over the past few days. She felt she was missing some vital piece of information but couldn't remember what. Lost in thought, she opened WeChat to give Seraphina a general update. Sera asked if Jude knew about her history with Julian. Clara replied with "He probably has a vague idea." Seraphina went silent. Seeing she was nearing her destination, Clara didn't press further.

The wedding went smoothly. Classmates who hadn't seen each other in a long time had endless topics to discuss. The final segment turned into old friends hugging each other, settling old scores, and talking about the future. Occasionally, someone would bring up Julian, but Clara would just smile and brush it off. Her close friends were tactful enough not to ask, only asking her subtly as the event broke up if she had any plans to enter a new relationship. Clara feigned a relaxed attitude, replying that they were welcome to introduce her to some promising young men.

As she turned to leave, a news notification on social media told her: Julian Hayes was returning to the country.

Fate is sometimes truly a mystery. Clara stood at the intersection, the wind chilling her eyes. She didn't know how to describe her current mood. Was she happy? Not particularly. Was she nervous? Not exactly. Even if Julian returned, their life trajectories would likely never cross again, right?

After all, there are so many forks in the road of life, and they had been lost to each other for so long.

While she was dazed, Jude called. He asked when she would be back, if she had been drinking, and if she needed him to come pick her up. Clara was suddenly swept by exhaustion as she listened. She slowly crouched on the ground, saying nothing.

"Clarie?"

"Clarie? Are you alright?"

Receiving no answer, Jude’s voice grew urgent. Clara finally responded with a few words, telling him it was fine and she would just take a taxi home.

Listening to that familiar voice, scenes of the past flooded her mind. Once upon a time, Julian had been the same way, asking her if she needed him to pick her up after a social event. Clara hung up and crouched by the roadside, burying her head completely in her arms, her breathing trembling.

Now, she had to admit that she had been lying to herself all these years. She had never let go. Her love for Julian, her longing for Julian—it had only grown wilder with time, spreading through her entire being.