“Shortly after, my manager sent me to Shanghai. I figured we wouldn’t be able to plan the wedding anytime soon, so I thought I’d tell you once I returned. But you’re right, Mom, I can’t delay my wedding with Wei Wei any longer.” Hao Yi took my hand and asked, “Wei Wei, what do you think?”
“I…” I glanced at Hao Yi’s mother, whose face finally blossomed with joy. It seemed I had no choice.
“Jessica has already assigned another colleague to the Shanghai office, so I shouldn’t be sent abroad again,” Hao Yi added, stripping me of the last excuse I could have used to object.
If I could, I wished I could become a true puppet, never awakening in this maze where I had no control.
I thought about my accomplice on the other side of the island. Was Chu Ke Huan still fighting for his freedom? How did he speak to Gao Zi Yuan? How did he face her inevitable, intense reaction? When a decade of shared memories was laid bare, scrutinized, and questioned, had Chu Ke Huan never faltered? Or was he, like me, trapped in the layers of bonds that shackled him, unable to escape his fate?
After finishing a tasteless meal, we returned to Hao Yi’s home. His mother, overjoyed, asked me to burn incense before Hao Yi’s father’s shrine and to tell him aloud that I was about to become part of their family.
Looking at the photo of Hao Yi’s father, I couldn’t stop the tears that began streaming down my face.
Hao Yi and his mother supported me, urging me not to cry anymore, but they misunderstood. My tears weren’t for grief over their loss but because I realized there was no longer a possibility for Chu Ke Huan and me. I couldn’t even be honest in front of the late Mr. Li’s shrine. How could I ever truly become a part of this family? Waves of guilt overwhelmed me, and I sobbed uncontrollably.
Chu Ke Huan’s words echoed in my mind:
“Life is just a series of being chosen.”
I had once questioned the harshness of that statement, looked down on the weakness of its victims, and believed there must be an escape route in this system of choices. Only now did I understand—I had never truly walked the path of no return. I longed to live for myself, to take one leap of courage and make a decision from my heart. But those choices I had thought of as freeing were merely passing the burden of being chosen onto others. How much true freedom could there really be?
The next morning, Hao Yi took leave from work to stay in the south and handle his father’s funeral arrangements. I, however, boarded a train back to Taipei.
I knew I had to find Chu Ke Huan and make a definitive ending. Only by following the original script and returning to the pre-written conclusion could this story have a perfect ending.
I closed my eyes, feeling my body gently sway with the train’s motion. For fleeting moments, there was a sensation of weightlessness, as though I were floating in the air. But as the train pulled into the station, I was reminded that I had never left reality. After all, the body slumped against the seat had always been tethered to gravity, unable to escape its pull.
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