Chapter One: Such Is Life

Life is a journey with no return; you have lost the past, so you must not let the present slip away.

—

The night flight hummed steadily through the darkness, the soft breaths of slumber filling the first-class cabin.

When Rachel Liu jolted awake from her dreams, her entire body was tense and rigid. She took a moment to steady herself, then removed her eye mask and glanced out the window at the pitch-black sky. The beautiful woman in the seat beside her was fast asleep, nearly leaning onto her.

Rachel suddenly felt disoriented, unable to recall where she was for a moment.

But then, a chill ran through her, and she snapped back to reality.

Yes, not long ago, she had decided to fly to California in search of Kim Tan. But after witnessing him with another girl, her mind became a tangled mess, so she booked a flight back home.

None of that seemed strange—except for one thing.

Her return flight had crashed.

...

She massaged her throbbing temples; had it all been a dream then? Or was this the dream?

Regardless, as her life teetered on the edge, she had suddenly awakened to a new clarity: in the face of mortality, all emotional entanglements seemed trivial. She thought of her mother, her only friend, her classmates at school… All those things she had thought unrelated to her life now paraded through her mind.

Perhaps after truly experiencing something like this, she felt she could finally let go.

But letting go did not mean she felt nothing.

...

Rachel exhaled slowly, but her heart remained heavy. There were telephones available in first class, but calling her mother now would be unsettling—and awkward.

She and her mother were always at odds; if she called out of the blue, what would she even say?

She leaned back in her seat. The plane sailed through the night as smoothly as glass, not a ripple of turbulence to be felt. She gazed out the window, her eyes unfocused. Gradually, the sky grew paler—seven in the morning had arrived.

Now, they should be landing in Seoul. If this wasn’t a dream, she would get some proper rest upon her return, forget Kim Tan with a flourish, and try to mend things with her mother...

She sighed, unable to recall when exactly the plane would arrive at Seoul Airport. She was about to ask a passing flight attendant when the cabin lights flickered on.

A standard English announcement came over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have landed at Beijing Capital International Airport. The temperature outside is 13 degrees Celsius. We are now taxiing... Thank you for choosing Air China. We look forward to serving you again!”

...

What!

Rachel sat bolt upright, grabbing the arm of a passing flight attendant. “Beijing? China?” Her panicked expression startled the attendant, who looked at the lovely young woman and managed a gentle laugh. “Yes, this is Beijing Capital International Airport in China. You’ve arrived.”

...

Rachel sat frozen for a moment before slumping back into her seat.

The attendant kindly asked, “Do you have any other questions?”

She shook her head in bewilderment and pinched her own arm.

It hurt.

This was not a dream.

She glanced at the small screen in front of her: July 28th.

She had left for California on July 24th; the return date was indeed the 28th.

Her head spun. The plane had landed, and the gentle swaying only added to her discomfort.

Following the stream of passengers out of the cabin, the unfamiliar sounds of Mandarin swirled around her, making everything feel unreal.

She was lost; the layout was completely foreign. Clutching her phone, she fumbled through the maps, found her hotel, and finally hailed a cab, giving the name of her destination.

...

She was practically exhausted.

Rachel had never spoken so much in her life. Her feet were raw from the heels she wore, and she still had to drag her suitcase behind her.

If this were Korea, someone would have met her at the airport.

If this were California, she would have had everything arranged already, and communicating in English would be effortless.

But this was Beijing.

She had never set foot in China.

After much trouble, she finally reached the hotel—only to realize she’d forgotten to pay the fare. She and the driver resorted to a mix of English, Chinese, and wild gesturing, and in the end, she paid in U.S. dollars. Rachel was too tired to utter another word.

And as fate would have it, only one deluxe room remained at the hotel.

5,888 yuan per night.

Her head pounded, but she couldn’t face dragging her luggage elsewhere. She swiped her card—only to realize she had a U.S. dollar card and a Korean one.

Neither worked.

She didn’t have enough cash on her.

Rachel nearly collapsed on the spot.

She wished desperately that this was all a dream, that she could wake up and it would be over.

The five-star hotel’s front desk staff were polite, explaining in flawless English how to withdraw cash and exchange it for yuan...

But she was simply too tired.

She couldn’t take another step.

Just then, she heard someone call her name.

“Rachel?”

Kim Won could hardly believe his eyes. The girl in a white short-sleeve blouse and blue skirt was the very one he’d seen in America four days ago—his brother’s fiancée, if he remembered correctly.

If Kim Won was surprised, Rachel herself was overwhelmed with emotion.

“Won!” Her voice trembled, on the verge of tears—and then she truly began to cry.

...

Kim Won paused, then walked over to her. He had never seen Rachel cry before; he could hardly imagine it.

Ever since they’d met, this young woman had always been cold and proud, as if nothing could faze her. But now, here she was, in China of all places.

“What happened?” Kim Won quickly set down his belongings, then put an arm around Rachel’s shoulder. She looked fragile and exhausted, as though she’d survived some ordeal.

The large suitcase at her feet explained enough. Kim Won patted her shoulder and asked again, “What’s wrong?”

Rachel managed to collect herself, though she was on the verge of collapse. She couldn’t begin to explain what she’d been through—no one would believe her anyway. And now, she was leaning against Kim Won in the bustling lobby... It couldn’t get more humiliating.

She lowered her head and murmured, “I didn’t bring enough money. I can’t pay for the room.”

Kim Won studied her for a moment, then smiled wryly. He quickly booked a room for Rachel and said, “I’ll take you upstairs.”

He led the way, suitcase in hand, with Rachel trailing behind. Her feet throbbed with every step, but she was Rachel Liu—she couldn’t afford to show weakness. She forced herself to move gracefully, enduring the pain as she entered the elevator, her composure unbroken.

“What brings you to China?” Kim Won pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, glancing at her.

Her skin was flawless and pale, her frame slender, her bearing refined; he found her quite likable.

—

Kim Won actually liked this little “sister,” though they hadn’t interacted much.

But now, seeing her so worn out, he almost regretted asking.

Rachel had no idea how to answer. Should she say she’d crashed into the sea with a plane bound for California, only to wake up in Beijing?

She hesitated, then said, “I just needed to clear my head.”

Kim Won didn’t press further. He walked her to the door. “Get some rest. Call me if you need anything.”

Rachel smiled and nodded, and the moment the door closed, she collapsed onto the bed—something she had never done before.

But just as she did, the door opened again.

Kim Won: “…”

It hadn’t even been ten seconds.

Rachel quickly sprang up, feeling somewhat mortified.

“Ahem…” Kim Won was awkward; since it had only been a moment, he hadn’t bothered to knock.

“My friend is in the room across the hall—if you need anything urgent, you can ask him.”

Feigning calm, he closed the door again.

...

It was already bad enough. Rachel kicked off her shoes and called her mother, but her mother’s secretary answered, saying the president was in a meeting. Rachel left no message, simply hung up and sent a text: “I’ll be traveling for a while before coming home.”

Then she sat cross-legged on the bed, staring into space.

Her heels were bleeding and sore; the shoes were ruined. She hadn’t brought any flats, so going out was going to be a problem. And Kim Won had only paid for one night—she’d have to pay him back.

As she mulled over these trivialities, her thoughts returned to Kim Tan.

She didn’t really understand why she was so obsessed with Kim Tan, only that it wasn’t just because of their engagement.

She shook her head to clear it. She got off the bed and started unpacking, only to find one of Kim Tan’s T-shirts tucked among her things.

...

It was a plain white T-shirt, with simple lettering on the front. She must have thrown it in by accident while packing in a fit of anger.

The shirt still carried his familiar cologne—a subtle, lingering scent that Kim Tan favored.

Loving someone is, perhaps, as much about missing their scent. Rachel remembered that Kim Tan had used this cologne for years. Back in school, whenever the boy brushed past her, that faint fragrance always made her heart flutter. She sat on the thick carpet, holding the T-shirt in a daze.

Scenes from the past played in her mind: the boy frowning, twirling his pen absentmindedly, his expressions shifting with the difficulty of the problems before him. Sometimes his seat was empty, and her heart would feel empty too. She always wondered why Kim Tan hadn’t come, whether something had happened to him. She wanted to ask, but always pretended indifference.

But in truth… the boy probably never cared about her at all.

Rachel sighed softly and opened her suitcase. All tailored suits—not a single one suitable for travel.

Left with no choice, she put on the only pair of shorts she’d brought and slipped on Kim Tan’s T-shirt. She was surprised to find a new pair of slippers, still wrapped, provided by the hotel.

They were ugly, but—well, no one here knew her anyway.

She might as well relax.

She’d decided: find something to eat, withdraw some money, exchange it, extend her hotel stay, then wander the city—a little breakup trip for herself.

Thinking of it this way, she suddenly felt much lighter.

She locked the door and headed downstairs. Just as she was about to ask the front desk how to get to a bank, she saw a girl burst in, dragging a suitcase. In halting English, the girl said, “I have a reservation here,” and handed over her ID, but the staff couldn’t find her name anywhere.

The girl grew anxious. Rachel was about to leave when she heard the girl, flustered, switch to Korean: “I really did make a booking. I came with a tour group. My name is Han Ji-eun. Could you check again, please?”