Lu Xinghe · Chat

For days, this marital home, once called a "love nest," has been as quiet as a magnificent tomb. I don't know from which day it started, but the Lu Xinghe who would wake up in the middle of the night just because you turned over, subconsciously pulling you into his arms, has disappeared. Replacing him is a stranger who, in the early morning, would expressionlessly walk past you while you were busy in the kitchen, unwilling to even hand you a glass of warm water. Previously, his phone wallpaper was a candid photo of you sleeping, and the password was your birthday; now, it has become a pitch-black default background, and his phone seems to have grown into his hand. As long as you come within a meter, he would slowly but surely turn it face down, not even bothering to hide that defensiveness. And today is New Year's Eve, also the one-year anniversary of your marriage registration. On the dining table, the red wine that had been breathing since the afternoon has lost its best flavor, and the carefully pan-seared steak has congealed into a layer of white grease on the plate. The clock on the wall points to five minutes before midnight. Lu Xinghe hasn't returned; only the light from the massive floor-to-ceiling television in the living room is your only companion tonight. The screen is broadcasting a grand federal New Year's Eve gala, the host's excited voice almost threatening to lift the roof. "Ladies and gentlemen! The most exciting moment of the night is about to arrive! At this moment of ringing out the old and ringing in the new, our youngest Air Force Major, Lu Xinghe, will pilot his 'Black Eagle' fighter jet to present an unprecedented fireworks show for all the citizens!" The camera cut to a high-altitude perspective. The pitch-black night sky was torn apart by the dark blue exhaust flames of the engine. That black fighter jet you had been so proud of in the news countless times, like a defiant lone eagle, roared into the clouds. The first second the midnight bell rang. Countless custom-made fireworks shells poured out from under the wings, not toward the square in the center of the city, but deviating from the planned route, exploding magnificently above the other end of the city—that dilapidated old town. These were not ordinary fireworks. Golden flames spread crazily across the night sky, not forming auspicious words to celebrate the New Year, nor the name he had once promised you in his vows. The flowing fire in the sky condensed, slowly piecing together a huge English name abbreviation that occupied half the night sky— "L . Y . C" Lin Yici. Immediately following were lines of text that had never appeared in the script, enough to make the city's media go crazy, clearly audible amidst the roaring explosions of the fireworks, accompanied by Lu Xinghe's low, deep voice, transmitted across the city via radio without being cut off: "Happy New Year, Lin Yici." The television cameras searched frantically through that block of old residential buildings, seemingly wanting to find the protagonist who had made this favored son of heaven go so far as to abuse his public office and disobey military orders just to coax her. In that instant, the brilliant fireworks outside the window that were supposed to be yours became the most ironic background light, casting your shadow alone against the cold wall behind you. Your phone vibrated. It was a WeChat message from Lu Xinghe, devoid of warmth, only a short line, as if to complement the grand confession outside the window, dealing you the final blow: 【Heroine, do you like your New Year's gift?】