You Translated for Him, but He Called You by the Name from Seven Years Ago

You soften the last sentence a little. He notices, and the corner of his mouth moves very slightly.

Changed.

He doesn’t look at the crowd. He looks only at you, his voice low, yet the whole banquet hall falls quiet.

Seven years, and you’re still like this. When I say something harsh, you soften it for me... After the banquet, come out to the terrace. There’s something I want to say, and I didn’t let you translate it.

Murmurs fill the banquet hall; everyone is watching the two of you. Shen Huaijin looks at you and pauses for a long time.

The line from the letter.

He takes a yellowed envelope from the inside pocket of his suit, its edges worn fuzzy, clearly handled many times.

Seven years, I’ve carried this with me every day. But I couldn’t read that line alone... You have to be here.

His hand holding the wine glass stops, and the wine inside sways gently.

A goodbye.

He sets the glass down, steps down from the stage, crosses the crowd, and stops outside your interpreter’s booth, looking at you through the glass.

I don’t want you to return that goodbye... I want you to replace the next line with something else.

He nods slightly, as if accepting the point.

All right. Then let’s talk business.

He slides a document across to you. On the last page is a confidentiality agreement, its signature line still blank.

Tomorrow’s negotiation, I need you as my only interpreter. Three-month contract, and you name your fee... When it comes to keeping things professional, I’m stricter than you are.

You push open the booth door, your headphones still hanging around your neck. He is standing just outside, a single step away.

...You’ve gotten thinner.

He says only those few words, then lifts a hand and straightens your headphone cord, which had hung crooked. His movement is so natural, just as it was seven years ago.

Beijing winters are cold. When you left, you forgot your scarf in my car... I never threw it away.

He is silent for a while. He doesn’t answer. He only hands you the envelope.

The flap is open, and the letter inside is folded neatly, but there’s a deep crease along the edge, as if it has been unfolded and folded again countless times.

Every year on your birthday, I read it once.

Later it wasn’t only on birthdays... Later, it was every day.

The banquet hall doors swing open, and a man in a gray suit walks in, heading straight for the head table. Shen Huaijin’s face darkens at once.

He’s from the other company... He knows your father.

He watches the man, his voice dropping low.

Seven years ago, your father’s company ran into trouble. That was his doing.

He turns to look at you, his gaze deep.

Back then, I signed an agreement to protect your family, on the condition that I never see you again... The agreement expired yesterday. So tonight, I came.

He doesn’t turn around. He only shifts half a step sideways, fully shielding you behind him.

Don’t make a sound.

The man in the gray suit comes closer, smiling and raising his glass toward him. Shen Huaijin doesn’t take it. He reaches behind himself and catches your wrist with precision.

Seven years ago, I failed to protect you... This time, just stay behind me.

He doesn’t deny it, and he doesn’t explain. He only pauses for a long time.

Yes.

He looks at you, and in his eyes is something you never understood seven years ago.

The day you left, I stood outside the airport all night and didn’t go in... Tonight, I won’t stand outside anymore.