Chapter 44#
That afternoon, the rain that had lasted for days finally stopped. A thin mist still hung over Lake Geneva, but Mont Blanc, which they hadn’t seen in ages, stood tall at the far end of the lake.
After having lunch with Tan Xiao, Zhou Ruofei left for a while. Tan Xiao thought he’d gone. But he returned shortly after.
“I’m taking you out of here,” Zhou Ruofei said. “We’re not staying anymore.”
“Are you just moving me to another place to keep me locked up?” Tan Xiao asked.
“No.” Zhou Ruofei felt thoroughly uncomfortable. He did have genuine affection for this younger brother, not merely love-by-association. “You can go home now.”
The previous week, when news of the missing student reached them, China’s top university had initiated an emergency response protocol. Through the Ministry of Education, they channeled it into diplomatic channels and sent an official letter to the Chinese Embassy and Consulates in Switzerland.
This was different from Zhang Xingchuan’s personal plea. It was a formal communication from a legal entity. The embassy in Bern moved with remarkable speed. After verifying Tan Xiao’s status as a Chinese citizen, they immediately contacted the Swiss Federal Department of Foreign Affairs, formally requesting an investigation into whether a Chinese national had been deprived of his freedom after entering Swiss territory.
Zhang Xingchuan also quickly provided the embassy with a detailed timeline of Tan Xiao’s disappearance, flight records for the private jet from Beijing to Geneva, copies of Tan Xiao’s last WeChat messages, the address of the Colonnix Estate, and background information on the Doria family.
Finally, there was the police report receipt they’d received two weeks earlier. With such clear evidence laid before them, the authorities had only issued the receipt, refusing to actually take the case.
Under diplomatic pressure, the Geneva police were forced to open an investigation.
Even as the situation reached a critical point, the Doria family remained uncompromising. Just yesterday, their articulate lawyer had engaged in another heated battle with Attorney Hua. But times had changed. Attorney Hua was now firmly gaining the upper hand.
Alexandra Doria’s current situation could be summed up in a single phrase: riding a tiger with no way to dismount.
Her original plan was for her brother Julian to learn a hard lesson under house arrest.
Her previous moves against that small Chinese company hadn’t been harsh enough. She hadn’t managed to scare off that Chinese man. But then, he was just an inconsequential stranger with some cheap tricks — hardly worth her attention.
She had several younger siblings, but she only truly acknowledged Julian as her brother. Partly because she’d raised him personally as a child, and partly because the children of those supermodels and beauty queens were, like their mothers, all show and no substance.
Twenty years ago, she had met Julian’s mother — a delicate and beautiful Chinese woman who spoke fluent German and possessed boundless courage and decisive action. Julian had inherited his mother’s beauty and intelligence. It was a shame he’d also inherited a tendency toward romantic delusion. He should have learned, like his mother, that love was ephemeral and meaningless, and that only money and power were real.
She had chosen Julian’s major specifically so that after his studies, he would return to the shipping company to assist her. In the future, she planned to select a suitable cousin from her maternal uncle’s family for Julian to marry. Their children would be the joint treasures of both families, as she was. She would spare no effort in grooming Julian’s child to become the next helmsman of the century-old shipping dynasty. She had even already chosen a name for that future grandchild.
She never expected that the Chinese man who’d seduced Julian would go to such lengths for the sake of so-called love.
Since the old man was still alive, Alexandra hadn’t yet become the official family head. Word of the Geneva incident reached certain ambitious relatives. Like vultures circling carrion, they eyed her not-yet-secure position and had begun spreading rumors, trying to undermine her authority.
Meanwhile, the doctors told Alexandra that her brother Julian would soon become ill.
He was stronger than she’d expected. Since arriving in Geneva, he’d never begged for her forgiveness. Yet he was also fragile. In just twenty days, she’d nearly destroyed him.
She certainly didn’t want to see Julian wither away like this. But she was equally unwilling to back down. She was Alexandra Doria. How could there be something in this world that didn’t bend to her will?
She had Zhou Ruofei summoned from America because she didn’t want to personally investigate whether Julian was faking his illness. Real or not, it was clear to her now: this brother she could not keep.
Zhou Ruofei called her back in the afternoon. “Let him go,” he said. “He’s already turning into a little madman.”
Zhou Ruofei was exaggerating, of course.
If Tan Xiao was useless to her, then Tan Xiao could be set free.
“Let him go,” Alexandra told him. “And never let him come back.”
Zhou Ruofei didn’t know if he was always seeing the woman he loved through rose-tinted glasses, but he thought he detected tears in her voice.
In truth, he knew better than anyone that the person he’d loved for so many years had already changed. He simply refused to admit it, still clinging to the fantasy that the sunset of his youth would never fade.
Tan Xiao, bewildered, was led from the house by Zhou Ruofei and placed in the back seat of the car. Zhou Ruofei got in from the other side and instructed the driver to depart.
The Rolls-Royce glided smoothly between the two rows of plane trees, passed through the iron gates, and exited the private drive.
The sun leapt from behind the clouds. On one side of the road lay Lake Geneva with its shimmering surface. The crystalline snow-capped mountains still stood at the lake’s edge.
Tan Xiao had finally left the century-old estate that had confined him for twenty-one days.
He came to his senses. Grabbing Zhou Ruofei’s arm, he said: “Where’s my phone?!”
“Don’t worry about that. Just get a new one when you’re back,” Zhou Ruofei said.
“Then give me your phone. I need to make a call.”
“You don’t need to,” Zhou Ruofei said. “He knows you’ll be back soon. He’s probably waiting for you.”
Tan Xiao’s mind was still sluggish. “Waiting for me where? In China?”
“Well… yes, you could say that.”
They crossed to the other side of Lake Geneva. The car turned onto a quiet tree-lined road, also flanked by orderly plane trees. Behind black iron gates stood a white modern building with upturned eaves that carried distinct Oriental characteristics.
Tan Xiao had never been there before, but he guessed where he was: the Chinese Permanent Mission to the United Nations in Geneva.
After the Geneva Accords of 1954, China had established a Consulate-General there. In 1988, the Consulate had relocated to Zurich, and this building became the exclusive residence of the UN Mission.
The car stopped in front of the main building. Without waiting for Zhou Ruofei to move, Tan Xiao got out himself. A young man waiting at the bottom of the steps stepped forward and introduced himself in Chinese as a diplomat.
Tan Xiao shook his hand and thanked him repeatedly, fully aware that his rescue owed everything to diplomatic efforts.
The diplomat also noticed Tan Xiao’s poor mental state and looked at him with concern.
Another car pulled in. Everyone turned to look. Tan Xiao recognized what seemed to be Attorney Hua’s assistant in the front passenger seat.
The car had barely stopped when the rear door opened. Tan Xiao saw someone stepping out, his legs emerging first, and Tan Xiao thought, those are some long legs — almost a match for my husband’s.
Zhang Xingchuan got out of the car. Tan Xiao’s gaze lingered on his legs, slowly traveling upward to the buttons of his coat. Then Zhang Xingchuan rushed over and pulled him into a tight embrace.
Caught completely off-guard, Tan Xiao hesitantly confirmed: “…Brother?”
Zhang Xingchuan didn’t speak. Tan Xiao felt him trembling. He quickly wrapped his own arms around him, saying: “I’m okay. Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying,” Zhang Xingchuan said even as tears streamed down his face. “Say that again.”
“Brother, I’m really back,” Tan Xiao said.
As he said it, his own tears spilled over. He felt embarrassed crying in front of everyone, tried to hold back, but failed. He buried his face in Zhang Xingchuan’s shoulder, trying to muffle his sobs.
Attorney Hua exchanged pleasantries with the diplomat, and hearing Tan Xiao’s suppressed crying, everyone couldn’t help but sigh.
Sister Hua even took out her phone and snapped a photo of the reunited junior colleagues embracing and weeping. She would keep it as a lifelong keepsake.
In the Rolls-Royce, Zhou Ruofei hesitated for a long while before getting out. He didn’t greet anyone, just waited quietly for Tan Xiao to finish crying, wanting to say goodbye.
But Tan Xiao’s crying gradually quieted, then stopped altogether, and he made no other sound. Zhang Xingchuan called to him, shook him gently, but got no response.
This startled Zhang Xingchuan. What was wrong? In mere seconds, he’d conjured countless terrible possibilities.
He looked at Zhou Ruofei. Detecting the flash of murderous intent in Zhang Xingchuan’s eyes, Zhou Ruofei quickly said: “I only found out what happened last night. I only got to Geneva this morning.”
“What happened?” Zhang Xingchuan demanded.
“…” Zhou Ruofei said, “He should just be asleep.”
The diplomat brought over a nearby doctor to check. The doctor confirmed: “He’s asleep.”
“Why would he just fall asleep like that?” Zhang Xingchuan asked.
“Because he’s exhausted,” the doctor replied.
Zhang Xingchuan returned to normal.
When Zhou Ruofei left, Zhang Xingchuan even politely said goodbye to him.
The night before, Tan Xiao had taken the medication and slept soundly for the first time. But he’d gone so long without proper rest. Being on their own turf, being held by Zhang Xingchuan, he felt safe. He’d simply drifted into sleep.
After that, he existed in a state between sleep and wakefulness, like sleepwalking. He could occasionally feel himself being carried to a car or led by the hand for a few steps, but he was too exhausted and his mind too sluggish. Knowing that it was Zhang Xingchuan guiding him, he didn’t care where they were going — anywhere was fine.
By the time his brain restarted, he was already on a flight back to Beijing.
Outside the cabin window was the deep darkness of night, but this was clearly a commercial airliner. He was lying on a flattened seat in business class, having just woken from a long sleep.
He sat up, panic-stricken, terrified this was all a dream. “Zhang Xingchuan,” he called out.
The cabin had reverse herringbone seating. Zhang Xingchuan, sitting slightly behind and to the side, answered: “I’m here.”
Tan Xiao turned to look. Zhang Xingchuan was sitting upright, watching him.
As their eyes met, Tan Xiao’s heartbeat finally steadied.
“I’m going to sleep a bit more,” Tan Xiao said. “You should rest too.”
“Okay,” Zhang Xingchuan said.
Tan Xiao lay back down. A few minutes later, he raised himself again to glance at the seat behind him. Sure enough, Zhang Xingchuan was still watching him. A few minutes later, he looked again. Zhang Xingchuan was still in that position, like a statue of a wife pining for her husband’s return.
Tan Xiao finally felt at peace and drifted back to sleep.
When he woke again, the plane was beginning its descent toward Capital Airport.
As they landed smoothly, the winter night over Beijing was slowly fading. The group disembarked and exited the airport. Only then did daylight break.
They had flown from Geneva’s gray afternoon to Beijing’s clear morning.
As their feet touched this familiar ground, everyone finally felt grounded, truly safe.
The east grew pale. The morning glow began to rise. A true sunrise had come.