"Ginger..."

"Yes."

After a long pause, he said, "It's nothing."

He turned and walked away without looking back. I closed the door and leaned against it.

I reached into my pocket and touched the empty couple's keychain on the ring.

Now there was only a lonely circle left, like a ring, or a noose.

My phone screen lit up suddenly, showing a message from Luke, full of his usual malice and need to probe.

"Are you and Shen Yan for real?"

I stared at the words, not replying.

I exited the chat, set Luke's messages to "Do Not Disturb," and turned off the phone.

The screen went black, and the room became quiet.

Just after putting the phone down, it lit up again; Luke was calling.

I watched the name jumping on the screen and didn't answer.

The call ended automatically, and a few seconds later, it rang again.

A second time, a third... he had the air of someone who would keep calling until I answered.

Finally, I picked it up, remaining silent.

"Ginger."

Luke’s voice sounded muffled. "You've only known Shen Yan for a few days, yet you dare to get involved with him. Do you even know what kind of person he is?"

"Does that have anything to do with you?"

There was a pause on the other end, as if he hadn't expected me to reply like that.

Then Luke scoffed, his tone filled with that familiar, casual mockery.

"I’m just afraid you’ll be cheated and end up helping the person count their money. After all, you’ve been stuck on me for twenty years without learning any lessons."

I silently tightened my fingers.

"But then again, someone like you is destined to be the one always clinging to others."

He seemed to be drinking; his voice drifted in and out.

"Used to cling to me, now clinging to him. Ginger, can't you learn to be a bit more reserved?"

Just as I was about to hang up, his low voice came through the receiver: "Go on then, I don't care anyway."

I pressed the screen to end the call, my nails digging four faint crescent-shaped marks into my palm.

The marks were deep, but I didn't feel any pain.

In less than a minute, he called again. I didn't answer.

He called again, so I turned off the phone.

The next morning, I got up to pack my bags.

My mother walked over and stuffed a red envelope into my hand.

I pushed it back, but she stuffed it back in, pressing her hand onto the back of my hand and not letting go for a long time.

"When you get to Shanghai, don't skimp on yourself."

Her eyes were red, but she didn't let the tears fall.

"I know." I hugged her, then pulled up my suitcase. "Mom, I'm leaving."

The high-speed rail station was crowded.

I dragged my suitcase through the waiting hall.

People came and went on the platform. I found my carriage number, stored my luggage, and sat down.

On the opposite platform outside the window, another train was parked, heading south—the exact opposite direction to mine.

I opened WeChat, intending to check in with my mom, but saw that Luna had posted on her feed.

It was a picture of two high-speed rail tickets side-by-side. A slender hand was in the frame, wearing a new watch I had never seen before.

The caption read: [Trial marriage trip, let's go.]

Before I could swipe away, a second post popped up.

It was a photo of a door, and I recognized the house number.

[The bridal home is already being decorated. Looking forward to our new home.]

I stared at the words "our new home" for a few seconds, then turned off my phone.

The carriage doors closed at this moment, and the train slowly started moving.

I looked up, glancing out the window. In the window of the opposite carriage, Luke was sitting there.

Luna was leaning on his shoulder, saying something.

But he wasn't looking at her.

His gaze cut straight through two layers of glass, through two tracks, and landed accurately on me.

Chapter 7

In that instant, the surrounding sounds seemed to fade away.

I could only see his face, a face I knew better than anyone else's.

In high school, he sat at the desk in front of me.

During summer afternoon naps, the classroom fan moved slowly. He would nap on his desk, his school uniform collar fluttering gently in the breeze.

I used to sneak glances at him, not even daring to breathe too heavily.

In university, I started writing love letters for him, one after another, none signed with my name.

Until the day we graduated, he kissed me.

I thought I had finally waited long enough, but thinking about it now, it was nothing more than a dream from my youth I refused to wake up from.

The train started—one heading north, one heading south.

Luke’s lips moved, and I recognized the shape—my name.

[Ginger.]

Then, he suddenly stood up.

Luna was jolted by his movement and grabbed his arm.

He didn't shake Luna's hand off, but he didn't sit down either.

The train accelerated even faster.

His face began to blur, and I only managed to see that he remained standing, looking toward me.

Until only empty tracks remained outside the window.

The phone in my pocket suddenly vibrated; it was a message from Luke.

[Where are you going?]

Then a third, fourth, fifth message.

[When did you buy a high-speed rail ticket?]

[Did you go with Shen Yan?]

[Ginger, answer me!]

I didn't reply.

I watched those messages popping up one after another, but my heart was very calm—so calm that even I felt like a stranger to myself.

I tapped on the input box and typed a line.

[I said on Children's Day: my destiny does not include you.]

After a few seconds, I sent a second sentence.

[Not an angry remark, but a notice.]

After the message was sent, I didn't wait for his reply.

I tapped on his profile picture, deleted the contact, and confirmed.

The phone screen went quiet, like a door finally closing.

And on the other side.

Luke sat in the southbound train, staring at the lines of text on the screen.

Luna was still leaning beside him, asking what was wrong.

He didn't answer, his thumb hovering over the name "Ginger" for a long time.

Then, he dialed a voice call. The busy signal rang—once, twice, three times...

The system prompt came through coldly.

"The other party is not your friend; please send a friend verification request first."

Luke's hand froze in mid-air, the phone nearly slipping from his palm.

Luna finally sensed something was wrong, sat upright, and followed his gaze to the screen.

When she saw the name clearly, her expression changed.

"Luke, who are you calling?"

Luke didn't speak. He simply stood up suddenly and turned to walk toward the connection between the carriages.

The train was just entering a tunnel, and it went dark outside the window, his face sinking into the shadows.

But at this moment, the phone rang; it was Luke's mother calling.

Luke answered, his voice very low: "Mom."

There was a silence for a few seconds on the other end before she asked, "Luke, Ginger has left. Did you know?"

Luke tightened his grip on the phone. "Where is she going?"

His mother sighed. "Shanghai."

Luke's throat moved. "Is she going for fun? Alone? When will she be back? I'll go pick her up!"

"She's not going for fun; she's been transferred there for work."

"Her mother called me just now, saying that from now on... she might rarely come back."

"Most likely, she will settle down there."

The blood drained from Luke's face completely.

He looked out the window; the train had already gone a long way.

He suddenly remembered what he said last night.

"Go on then, I don't care anyway."

It turned out that some things you say can actually come true.

He looked down, tapping on Ginger's profile picture over and over again.

But no matter how he tapped, there was only one gray line of text: he had been deleted.

She hadn't even left him room to argue.

Just then, his phone vibrated again.

It wasn't Ginger, but a reminder from Shen Yan's social media feed.

Luke tapped in. In the photo, the exit of the Shanghai station was teeming with people.

Shen Yan stood in the crowd, holding a cup of hot coffee; the lens only caught half of his profile.

The caption had only one sentence: [Come to pick her up.]

Luke stared at the words.

In the next second, the train announcement sounded.

"Dear passengers, this train has left the station. The next station is..."

Luke couldn't hear the rest of the sound.

He only knew that this time, Ginger wasn't just throwing a tantrum.

She was truly done with him.