The flyers and brochures from the Cruise Agency’s salesperson were all spread out on the dining table.
Ruan Xi’s gaze followed her mother’s hand as she turned the pages, catching sight of the text:
Dusk Cruise has 12 decks, 2,000 guest rooms, 11 pools, and over 20 restaurants with different cuisines…
The promotional stats were appealing enough, but the elders regarded it as just another advertisement.
After looking them over, no one actually considered adding a cruise trip to their real travel plans for serious discussion.
Ruan Xi’s parents didn’t have the time, and Cheng Daichuan’s Mother also sighed regretfully, saying that cruise trips sounded romantic, but she’d already scheduled work and was pressed for time.
Knock knock— the Waiter tapped on the private room door and politely asked, “Hello, shall I start serving now?”
With their approval, hot and cold dishes— some on ice, some steaming— were brought to the table one after another.
Ruan Xi bit into an orange, watching as her mother stacked the flyer and brochure together and set them aside.
The little episode about the cruise trip, just like those glossy cruise facility photos on coated paper, was hurriedly flipped past by the elders; whenever the topic came up again, it always shifted back to the meal at hand.
My plan fell through. I’m a bit disappointed.
She glanced at Cheng Daichuan, who was staring down at his phone, and felt an extra wave of frustration, as if I’d batted my lashes at a blind man. Sullenly, she cut herself another big slice of orange.
After all, this was a small city by the sea— seafood was inevitable in the dishes.
Cheng Daichuan’s Mother was a landscape designer, a freelancer who worked with all kinds of flowers, plants, and trees all year round.
She had that air of “still a girl at heart upon returning,” and was very endearing, calling everything “fresh little fishies, crabbies, shrimpy-shrimps, shelly-shells, snaily-snails…”
Ruan Xi’s parents, on the other hand, seemed like Aunt Shang’s older brother and sister, always looking out for her.
Ruan Xi recalled that in the past, when both families dined together, it was often Aunt Shang clapping her hands to praise her parents’ cooking, saying she wanted to learn how to make a certain dish.
Cheng Daichuan’s Father only showed up occasionally, always with a gentle smile, speaking in a tone that was both helpless and indulgent: “You know, even if you learn, you won’t do it well— and you’ll probably burn yourself.”
Aunt Shang would wink playfully and hold out a big vase bursting with flowers: “But I’m really good at growing flowers, you know.”
Thinking of what happened with Cheng Daichuan’s family, Ruan Xi’s thoughts paused.
Only occasionally… would he show up…
So there were signs even back then?
Since meeting this time, Aunt Shang hadn’t mentioned that man at all.
Ruan Xi’s phone was full of unread messages from the Cruise Agency salesperson.
She swiped away all the sales pitches, thinking:
That kind of shameless bad person— Aunt Shang is better off never thinking of him again!
But what about the cruise trip…
Ruan Xi’s parents were telling Aunt Shang about the local crabs with big claws and small bodies, explaining how to crack them open more easily.
Ruan Xi, bored out of her mind, kept biting her orange, but her gaze kept drifting back to the brochures and flyers.
A patch of sunlight landed on the table. She saw Cheng Daichuan stretch his hand into the warm light and pick up the brochure.
Ruan Xi stared at Cheng Daichuan, feeling as if she’d been possessed by a salesperson.
Isn’t a cruise trip great?
You can escape the heat, go on vacation, travel the sea—two birds with one stone. Isn’t that awesome?
Cheng Daichuan’s expression didn’t change. He slowly flipped through the brochure, finished reading, and put it back where it was.
Ruan Xi was full of anticipation.
Cheng Daichuan turned to look at Ruan Xi, meeting her gaze, and unexpectedly asked, “Is the orange sweet?”
“…It’s sweet.”
Ruan Xi was silent for two seconds, then pressed on, “What do you think about that?”
“The cruise?”
“Mm.”
Cheng Daichuan said, “Not bad.”
Noticing their conversation, Cheng Daichuan’s Mother said, “It’s summer break anyway. If you two are interested, you could go together.”
Ruan Xi was caught off guard; even the sweet orange juice in her throat suddenly tasted sour. She muttered, “Who wants to go with him…”
Cheng Daichuan gave a low, ambiguous laugh.
After saying that, Ruan Xi started sulking at herself, turning into a parrot with its beak taped shut, refusing to make another sound.
Under Ruan Xi’s parents’ guidance, Cheng Daichuan’s Mother peeled two perfect pieces of crab claw meat, then, wearing disposable gloves, placed one on each of Ruan Xi and Cheng Daichuan’s plates: “Here, try my handiwork.”
The sullen parrot briefly tore off its tape: “Thank you, Aunt Shang…”
No one brought up the cruise again for the rest of the dinner.
Ruan Xi’s father had work that night and went to stay with a colleague, leaving the rest of them to return to the hotel they’d booked, their shadows stretched long by the setting sun.
Cheng Daichuan’s Mother and Ruan Xi and her mother shared a triple room.
Cheng Daichuan had his own guest room, on the other side of the corridor according to the signs.
So, as soon as they exited the elevator, he turned his back to them, waved his sunglasses in the air, and strode off in the opposite direction.
Ruan Xi showered, towel-drying her hair with one hand and tapping her phone with the other as she walked out of the bathroom.
The last message from the salesperson read:
“Looks like you’re still a student. I can make an exception and give you the biggest discount— use the off-season price from the back of the brochure, and the second person is half price!”
If only I had that kind of perseverance.
Ruan Xi was still sulking at herself.
Why can’t I just ask Cheng Daichuan, like a normal friend, if he’s doing okay after what happened at home?
Why can’t I just invite him outright, ask if he wants to go on a cruise, wants to get away for a bit?
Why did I have to say those things at the dinner table, saying the opposite of what I really felt…
The atmosphere in the room interrupted Ruan Xi’s self-criticism.
Her mother was sitting on the bed, gently stroking Aunt Shang’s thin back.
Aunt Shang wiped her tears with a tissue: “Honestly, I never noticed anything. I trusted him completely. It was Daichuan and Shi Chao— when they went to play soccer, they ran into him at the mall by the stadium…”
Ruan Xi paused, towel in hand, listening as Cheng Daichuan’s Mother, choking up, recounted how she discovered Cheng Daichuan’s Father’s affair.
It was the most cliché of stories— about shallow men’s infidelity and betrayal.
The difference was, it was Cheng Daichuan who noticed first.
He saw that man carrying several shopping bags, holding hands with a girl about his own age, crossing the street.
And Cheng Daichuan was the first to confront him.
He found hotel records on that man’s phone, and told him, “From now on, how we live is up to my mom and her alone.”
When she spoke of this, Aunt Shang didn’t cry.
For three whole months, whenever he had time, Cheng Daichuan would come home from school to help his mother deal with all the divorce matters.
“Luckily, Daichuan and that Shi Chao kid were there.”
Aunt Shang’s eyes reddened again. “On Mother’s Day, Daichuan said he had a surprise for me—he even made a video imitating one from when he was little…”
Ruan Xi had watched that CD at Cheng Daichuan’s house.
In the video, Cheng Daichuan was just six, a pale, skinny little bean sprout, eating pizza with tomato sauce all over his mouth, looking adorable: “Daddy, I want to eat Pizza again tomorrow~”
Young Aunt Shang smiled and copied her son: “I want to eat Pizza too~”
Little Cheng Daichuan and young Shang Nan were both fooled by that man.
The man who was “busy with work” and rarely home would hug his wife and son, kissing each of them on the cheek: “Okay, okay, you can do whatever you want. If the sky falls, Dad will hold it up. Just leave the storms outside to me.”
Little Cheng Daichuan, licking tomato sauce from the corner of his mouth: “I want to be just like Dad.”
In the past, in everyone’s eyes— including Ruan Xi and Shi Chao— Cheng Daichuan’s Father was a very successful businessman.
Uncle Cheng was gentle as jade, quiet, cool, with the calm of a mountain unmoved by collapse.
Whenever they saw Uncle Cheng, Ruan Xi and Shi Chao were always respectful.
In high school, Cheng Daichuan had said he wanted to be like his father— mature, steadfast, upstanding.
But Aunt Shang said that, in the Mother’s Day video, Cheng Daichuan ate old-fashioned pizza, licked the tomato sauce from his lips, smiled at the camera, and said:
“Ms. Shang, I just realized, the one I truly admire has always been you.”
“This home can’t do without you.”
“Give me a chance to correct myself— I want to be like my mom.”
For so long, Shang Nan had been trapped by the illusion that she “couldn’t hold up the family alone” or “contributed less than her husband.” Her liveliness, optimism, tolerance, positivity, easygoing support, and carefree joy… finally, they were recognized.
Watching Aunt Shang suddenly cover her face and burst into tears after saying this, Ruan Xi grabbed the brochure and ran out of the room.
But what about Cheng Daichuan?
How does he cope with his father’s betrayal of the family?
How does he accept that the person he once admired collapsed into a villain?
How long did it take him to pick himself up, pretend to brush off his feelings, and go comfort Aunt Shang’s sadness?
The hotel corridor was carpeted thickly. She ran to Cheng Daichuan’s room and knocked on the door.
Cheng Daichuan had just showered too; the air was damp and clean, and as he opened the door, he was still toweling his hair.
He looked a little surprised. “What is it?”
Ruan Xi, out of shape, was out of breath from running. Without saying a word, she shoved the brochure into Cheng Daichuan’s arms.
The hallway was drenched in the afterglow of sunset, the bright orange light greedily soaking into every detail.
“That salesperson contacted me. Said they’d give me a discount— off-season price, second person half off.”
It was too embarrassing to say anything sentimental.
Ruan Xi blurted out, “Cheng Daichuan, come with me— we’ll split the cost fifty-fifty.”
Water still clung to Cheng Daichuan’s bangs as he continued drying his hair, flipping to the last page of the brochure with one hand.
In small print, marked with an asterisk, it read— Half-price deal only applies to guests sharing a double room.
Seeing him stay silent, Ruan Xi grew nervous, frowning in the flood of sunset glow: “Actually, I could go by myself.”
She added, “It’s just that I saw the special offer, so I’m reluctantly bringing you along.”
Cheng Daichuan looked at Ruan Xi and summed up, “So, you’re still inviting me after all?”