Chapter 85: Homecoming

The phone rang for a while before it was finally answered.

The cheerful voice of Mr. Le was as lively as ever.

For a moment, Cheng Yao was caught off guard. Just a second earlier, he had been tangled with worry over whether he was disturbing Mr. Le at work because the call hadn’t been picked up right away. Unlike Tong Bin, who was an office worker, Mr. Le ran a pet shop—work hours didn’t mean much to him. Sometimes, he even received emergency calls in the middle of the night, having to help arrange for sick animals to be taken to the vet.

But Mr. Le’s upbeat greeting quickly banished Cheng Yao’s misgivings. His mood eased considerably.

“It’s nothing urgent… just wanted to ask you something… um…” Cheng Yao found himself struggling, so unlike the ease with which he spoke to Tong Bin. Tong Bin often leaned on him for support; today, for once, the roles reversed, and Cheng Yao found nothing odd in it. Yet, the matters involving the infant, Zheng Yichao, and the Monster Clinic were not things he could easily put into words. So, he chose a more obscure way to speak. With Mr. Le, it was different. Their relationship didn’t seem to be on that level. But if he were speaking as the sixty-year-old version of himself, casual conversations with Mr. Le would be almost routine. After all, Mr. Le was always chatting with the neighborhood residents like this. Cheng Yao hadn’t originally been part of that small circle, but after so many days coming and going from his father-in-law’s house, greetings had become inevitable. Add in the connection through the Monster Clinic, and there should have been plenty of shared topics.

As these thoughts ran through his mind, Cheng Yao suddenly felt as though something was binding him entirely.

He instinctively looked down at his left hand resting on his knee.

A young man’s hand, a brand-new wedding ring—everything was so familiar, yet so foreign.

It was him, and yet not him.

“What’s wrong? Has something happened? If you need anything, just say so—I’ll figure it out,” Mr. Le said generously, with the warmth of an elder speaking to a younger person.

Cheng Yao couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not really a problem. I just ran into something…” This time, he didn’t pretend it was a “friend” who had the issue, though he still withheld the truth.

Even with Mr. Le, Cheng Yao couldn’t bring himself to speak of the Monster Clinic.

Mr. Le listened carefully, not interrupting, and after Cheng Yao had finished, he was silent for a moment. “I see… If you want my opinion…”

Cheng Yao’s heart began to race.

“…I think you did nothing wrong,” Mr. Le said solemnly.

Cheng Yao’s heart skipped a beat, then settled into a profound calm.

“Or rather, there is no right or wrong here,” Mr. Le went on. “The decision you made in that moment was true to your heart. Following your heart is never wrong. That’s what life is about—you have to trust your instincts.”

Cheng Yao interrupted, half exasperated, half amused. “By that logic… even committing a crime could be justified?”

“Would you commit a crime?” Mr. Le countered.

Cheng Yao hesitated. “I might have let a criminal go.”

Mr. Le laughed. “How could that be? Remember that stalker you confronted before—well, maybe stalker is too strong, but that guy—even for a stranger, you stepped forward. How could you possibly let a criminal go?”

Cheng Yao had no answer.

He certainly didn’t lack courage, especially after discovering his near-superhuman abilities. He had become a little reckless, but there was still selfishness within him.

He was sure, when he set down that infant, there was selfishness in his heart.

At that moment, what flashed through his mind was the vague image of Bai Xiao.

“You wouldn’t do such a thing. A person’s nature is what it is. I may run a pet shop and seem to deal with animals, but really, I deal with people most of all. I know how to read people. I can see, you’re a genuinely good man. But, you’re not fond of pets—or rather, you don’t want that kind of presence in your life. Right? You’re very much like Uncle Cheng. He’s the same: a good man, but never too close with anyone. He doesn’t want deep attachments.”

Cheng Yao was left speechless.

“Everyone has their own way of living. But I don’t think it’s always a good thing,” Mr. Le continued. “When you asked about buying a pet before, I didn’t think it was a good idea. And when you helped catch stray cats… You were buying a pet for your girlfriend, I know you wouldn’t abandon it, but taking on responsibility like that, life loses its flavor. Your girlfriend probably just mentioned it in passing, maybe as a test. Young women in love can be insecure—they need to feel safe. Safety isn’t about agreeing to everything she says, it’s about open communication. Look, you asked me for advice, why not talk to her? Why ask an outsider like me?”

Mr. Le had opened the floodgates, speaking sincerely and earnestly to Cheng Yao.

His sincerity was a different kind from Tong Bin’s, but both were genuinely considering what was best for Cheng Yao.

Yet, at that moment, Cheng Yao felt no gratitude.

His hand trembled slightly.

Why didn’t he talk to Bai Xiao?

Because this concerned the Monster Clinic, and Bai Xiao’s body, and Bai Xiao’s… attitude…

That stormy night, Bai Xiao had watched him kill a monster with his own eyes.

They had never spoken of it again.

Never.

Mr. Le had spoken about young women in love being insecure, but Cheng Yao had never seen that in Bai Xiao. She was always open and straightforward. They had loved, married, lived together through thick and thin. There had been arguments, disputes, but never doubt or testing.

Why hadn’t he killed that infant?

Because he didn’t want to kill another monster. And because…

Cheng Yao’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a new message.

He muttered apologetically to Mr. Le, “Sorry, something just came up… Thank you, Mr. Le.”

“Go on then, have a good chat with your girlfriend,” Mr. Le chuckled, his tone as kindly as an old grandfather soothing a child.

On another day, Cheng Yao might have managed a helpless smile, but now he could do nothing of the sort.

He hung up and opened the message.

It was from Liu Yu.

Liu Yu was getting married in a whirlwind wedding.

He had sent an electronic invitation, along with a long message of thanks.

He expressed heartfelt gratitude to Cheng Yao for pulling him back from the brink. Because of that event, he had made a resolution, changed jobs, met new colleagues, and found his true love.

“…I dated a few times in high school and college, but those breakups came quickly. It was nothing like now, nothing like this feeling of shared values and mutual understanding. It was like playing house as a child, dating only because everyone else was, or because everyone said you should in college. But now, I know clearly that I want to spend my life with her. ‘Forever’ sounds a bit cheesy, but that’s truly how I feel. I really, really thank you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have met her. Thank you so, so much. Please come to the wedding. I want you to meet her, and I want her to meet you. You’re practically our matchmaker. If it’s not too much trouble, I’ll call you on Saturday afternoon.”

Cheng Yao stared in silence at the long message. He didn’t open the electronic invitation, just gazed at the words for a long while.

So much had happened to Cheng Yao that day.

Tong Bin’s blind date had failed; Liu Yu was getting married.

Different people embarking on different paths.

And what about him?

Mr. Le’s words echoed in his mind, but his eyes remained fixed on Liu Yu’s message:

“I know very clearly that I want to spend my life with her. ‘Forever’ sounds a bit cheesy, but that’s how I feel now.”

Cheng Yao knew, just as clearly, that at twenty, on the anniversary of meeting Bai Xiao, he had first thought about spending his life with her. He’d been so excited, so nervous, so happy he’d nearly blurted it out. Luckily, he held back that rash impulse. Afterward, he threw himself into loving, studying, working hard. Graduation, moving in together, working, a life as ordinary as it was steady—until, when everything was finally ready, he planned an imperfect proposal. Who would have thought that after saving enough for a home and booking a romantic hotel, he’d end up buying a wedding ring a size too small?

Cheng Yao rubbed the newly bought ring, a smile curling at his lips, but his eyes grew hot.

Whenever he faced Bai Xiao, all he could think of was “forever.”

Forty years ago, thirty-five years ago, and now.

Cheng Yao closed his eyes and let out a gentle breath.

He gripped his phone, unlocked the screen, and called Bai Xiao. “Yeah, I’m out. I went to cancel the lease with the agent. I’ll be back soon. Do you want me to bring you anything? Heh… okay. I know, we’re not moving out right away. Don’t worry, I won’t let you end up on the street. Hahaha… Yes, got it. Talk soon.”

He hung up and, as promised, went to meet the agent.

…

In a darkened TV room, the large screen projected the image of a tiny body.

The baby’s face was pale and motionless, chest rising and falling slightly, covered in a patchwork of medical electrodes. Tubes were inserted into the head and limbs, delivering fluids.

This was not an everyday sight, but neither was it rare—a critically ill infant.

Crying rose from offscreen.

Hands pressed against the incubator.

Broken questions pierced the sobs: “The baby was fine when we brought him in! What did they do, what did Wang Yangxian and Kang’an International do? Why did Wang Yangxian die, and now the baby too… What happened…”

Another voice replied, “It was a miracle the baby improved at all. Even you said so—there were things that didn’t make sense medically, it could only be explained by strong will to live. Now… this is multi-organ failure. Old Fang, don’t take it so hard. We all knew this was a possibility when he first arrived.”

“That was at the beginning! He’d survived…” The questioning became a low, helpless whimper.

Only crying remained offscreen.

Then, a sharper alarm sounded, more piercing than the voices before.

The incubator was opened; people moved in and out of the camera frame. Through the hustle, the small body grew paler and more ashen.

At the very last moment, the child opened his eyes.

Clouded gray eyes stared blankly ahead, slowly searching, as if looking for something, and finally, unwillingly, they closed.

The frantic activity faded into stillness.

Crying rose again.

The doctor’s deep blue eyes showed no emotion.

After a while, as if startled awake, he turned suddenly, looking toward the door shrouded in darkness.

He glanced at the door, then at the baby being wiped down, then at the door again, and again at the baby.

In the frame, someone wept as they cleaned the infant’s body. Tears fell onto the child’s skin, wiped away again and again, until finally the person could bear it no longer, collapsing by the incubator, hands gripping so tightly the veins stood out, their face out of sight, not even a sound escaping.

Ten fingernails lay unnaturally silent.

A sigh drifted from behind the doctor’s mask.

He stood up, walked to the door, opened it to let in the light, and continued out, drawing open the door to the consulting room.

“Ah, Doctor, hello.” Cheng Yao, caught off guard, took a step back.

Beside him, Bai Xiao smiled, greeting the doctor with easy charm, “Hello, Doctor, long time no see. We’d like to pass through on our way home.”

Cheng Yao’s gaze drifted past the doctor’s shoulder to the inner room.

Within, it was pitch black; only faint sobs sounded from the darkness.

A heaviness pressed on Cheng Yao’s heart.

“Then hurry home,” the doctor said coldly.

“We visited Dragon City earlier and brought you a souvenir.” Bai Xiao lifted the paper bag, then offered it with both hands, full of sincerity.

The doctor’s blue eyes flicked down at the bag, waving it away indifferently.

The five fingernails on his hand all clicked in unison, expressing disdain on his behalf.

“It’s a local specialty, really tasty,” Bai Xiao said quickly.

All ten fingernails clamored at once, still with that air of scorn.

With no other choice, Bai Xiao withdrew the bag, feigning regret.

But Cheng Yao’s gaze remained fixed on the dark room. Only when Bai Xiao tugged his arm did he snap out of it, his eyes meeting the doctor’s deep blue ones for an instant before the doctor turned and quietly closed the door.

“Let’s go,” Bai Xiao said cheerfully, unfazed by the cold reception. “Let’s go home.”

Cheng Yao glanced once more at the tightly shut door, his ears still ringing with faint sobs. He nodded and let Bai Xiao take his arm, leading him toward the clinic’s entrance.

Beyond the glass door, the ancient streets of Dragon City were gone; in their place were the familiar sidewalks and avenue trees.

After days of waiting in Dragon City, they could finally return home.

No, not just after those days—after thirty-five years, they could finally, truly, go home.

Cheng Yao looked down at Bai Xiao, feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders. He wanted to smile, but the echoes of rain and sobbing in his mind made it impossible.

But in time, with a little more time, he was sure he could look at Bai Xiao and smile without restraint.