That night, as the yacht left Hong Kong City's harbor for a leisurely cruise, we learned of Liu Huaiying's father's passing.
The jovial mood was set by Liang Wenye, who was singing at the top of his lungs when a phone call from Forty-Nine City announced that his friend was no more. The DJ, in a subdued motion, turned off the music, and for several minutes there was silence, as no one had yet processed the news.
"No, it can't be. Just last year at this time at Jingzhai Pavilion, he looked hale and hearty... How could this happen so suddenly..."
It wasn't pity that was felt, but rather an unexpected shock, yet it felt inevitable all the same.
Leh Ying sat in the corner, having poured herself half a glass of red wine, watching the torrential rain outside the window. She reexamined the messages carefully.
One after another, Liu Huaiying didn't complain to her, but rather talked about his paintings, chatting with her about mundane family matters as if nothing was amiss.
