Yulan didn't speak to his father for the rest of the morning.
It wasn't because he was angry.
Anger would have been easier.
Instead, he kept thinking about a woman who had left home three months before a fire, carrying a secret nobody had been willing to explain to him.
His mother had known she might not return.
And his father had let Yulan grow up believing there was nothing left to look for.
By noon, the dumpling shop was busy enough that nobody had time for difficult conversations. Yulan worked the counter, Chen Hao carried bowls between tables, and Li Wei sat near the window pretending to read a newspaper.
He had turned the same page four times.
Eventually, Chen Hao stopped beside him.
"If you're going to stare at that paper, at least pretend the words are interesting."
Li Wei lowered it.
"Do you need something?"
"Yes. Your help."
"With what?"
Chen Hao nodded toward the kitchen, where Yulan was arguing with a customer about whether six dumplings counted as a proper lunch.
"Your boyfriend is going to burn himself out."
Li Wei glanced at Yulan.
"He isn't my—"
Chen Hao raised an eyebrow.
"Finish that sentence. I dare you."
Li Wei picked up his tea.
Chen Hao grinned.
"That's what I thought."
He returned to the kitchen before Li Wei could answer.
A few minutes later, Li Wei found Yulan carrying a tray toward the back room.
"Give me that."
Yulan shifted the tray away from him.
"I can carry it."
"I can see that."
"Then why are you asking?"
"Because you've been working since dawn."
"So have you."
"I've been sitting."
"Exactly. You're not qualified to advise me."
Li Wei took the tray anyway.
Yulan followed him into the back room, muttering something about wealthy men and their terrible habits.
Once the door closed, Li Wei set the tray down.
"You haven't eaten."
"I had a bun."
"That was hours ago."
Yulan folded his arms.
"Are you going to interrogate me about everything I do today?"
"No."
"Good."
"Just the things that concern me."
Yulan looked away to hide his smile.
"You're getting worse at this."
"At what?"
"Being subtle."
Li Wei stepped closer.
"I stopped trying to be subtle when you kissed me behind the shop."
"That was a private moment."
"It was."
"And you don't have to keep bringing it up."
"I wasn't aware there was a limit."
Yulan laughed despite himself.
Li Wei's expression softened. He reached out and brushed a small spot of flour from Yulan's cheek.
"There you are," he said quietly.
Yulan's smile faded into something gentler.
"What?"
"You've been somewhere else all morning."
Yulan glanced toward the door.
"My mother went to Shanghai knowing she might never come back. My father knew more than he told me. And now there's a dead accountant who apparently wasn't dead."
"That's quite a lot for one morning."
"You forgot the secret archive."
"I was trying to be optimistic."
Yulan leaned against the table.
"What if everything I remember about my mother is wrong?"
Li Wei considered that.
"I don't think it is."
"How can you know?"
"I can't."
Yulan looked at him.
Li Wei continued, "But finding out that she had secrets doesn't erase the person you knew. She could have been frightened. She could have made mistakes. She could have kept things from you and still loved you."
Yulan was quiet.
"My father says she made him promise not to let me look for her."
"Perhaps she thought she was protecting you."
"I'm tired of everyone protecting me by lying."
"I know."
Li Wei reached for his hand.
"I'm not going to tell you that everything will turn out well. I don't know that. But you won't have to face it alone."
Yulan looked down at their joined hands.
"You make it sound simple."
"It isn't."
"Then why does it feel simple when you say it?"
Li Wei didn't have an answer.
Yulan stepped closer and kissed him.
This time, there was no urgency in it. Just a quiet kind of relief, as if he needed a moment in which he didn't have to be anyone's son or the keeper of someone else's secret.
When he pulled away, Li Wei rested his forehead against his.
"Have you eaten anything besides that bun?"
Yulan closed his eyes.
"Don't ruin it."
"I brought you rice."
Yulan opened his eyes again.
"You did?"
"It's in the other room."
He stared at Li Wei, then laughed.
"You really are terrible at romance."
"And yet you keep kissing me."
Yulan kissed him once more, just to stop him talking.
It worked.
For about five seconds.
Then someone knocked on the door.
"Are you two alive in there?" Chen Hao called.
Yulan stepped away so quickly that Li Wei nearly laughed.
"Go away!" Yulan shouted.
"Excellent. You're alive."
His footsteps retreated.
Li Wei looked at Yulan.
"Subtle."
"Don't."
"Of course."
But when they returned to the front of the shop, Yulan's shoulders were less tense.
For the first time that day, he was hungry enough to eat.
And Li Wei, who had spent years learning how to manage other people's expectations, found himself thinking that perhaps love was sometimes as ordinary as making sure someone had lunch.
That evening, Guoren finally told Yulan the rest.
They sat at the kitchen table after the shop had closed. Chen Hao had gone home, and Li Wei had stepped outside to speak with Meiyu, who had arrived with a message from the Li estate.
Guoren placed a cup of tea in front of his son.
"Your mother went to Shanghai because she believed Zhou Ren was alive."
Yulan looked up.
"You said you didn't know if he was."
"I didn't. She never told me what she found."
"Why did she go alone?"
"She thought someone was watching the house."
Yulan's fingers tightened around the cup.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Dad."
Guoren sighed.
"I know how that sounds. But your mother didn't tell me everything. She was afraid that if I knew too much, I would be questioned if something happened to her."
"And you agreed to let her go?"
"I tried to stop her."
"What did she say?"
Guoren looked toward the dark kitchen window.
"She said she'd rather be afraid of what might happen than spend the rest of her life afraid of what had already happened."
Yulan lowered his gaze.
That sounded like his mother.
"She came back from Shanghai," Guoren continued. "For a while, anyway. She was different. She checked the door twice every night. She stopped writing letters. And she hid that case somewhere I couldn't find it."
"Did she tell you anything about Zhou Ren?"
"Only that he wasn't the man people believed him to be."
Yulan thought of the photograph.
The smiling young accountant.
The official death records.
The newspaper article claiming he'd been seen alive.
"Did she know he was going to the warehouse on the night of the fire?"
Guoren shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Did she know Li Jian?"
"Yes."
"Li Wenxiu?"
Another pause.
"Yes."
Yulan set down his tea.
"You keep answering questions with things you should have told me years ago."
"I know."
"I'm not asking you to fix everything, Dad. I just need you to stop deciding what I can handle."
Guoren looked at him for a long time.
Then he nodded.
"All right."
It wasn't an apology large enough to repair seventeen years.
But it was the first honest answer Yulan had received without having to fight for it.
For tonight, he accepted it.
Li Wei was waiting outside when Yulan finished.
"Meiyu had to return to the estate," he said. "My father wants to see me tomorrow."
Yulan's expression changed.
"About Shanghai?"
"Probably."
"Are you going?"
"I have to hear what he wants first."
Yulan nodded, although the thought made something uncomfortable settle in his chest.
Li Wei noticed.
He reached for Yulan's hand, then glanced toward the street to make sure nobody was watching.
"Come with me for a little while."
"Where?"
"Somewhere I don't have to talk about my family."
Yulan considered him.
"Can we get food?"
"Of course."
"And not at some expensive place where the waiter looks at me like I don't know which fork to use."
Li Wei looked offended.
"I would never take you somewhere with too many forks."
"You absolutely would."
"I'd explain the forks."
Yulan laughed.
They walked toward the night market, keeping a careful distance whenever other people passed. At a quieter corner, Li Wei bought them two bowls of noodles from a vendor who seemed more interested in the evening's football results than in recognizing a wealthy young master.
They ate standing beside the stall.
Yulan stole a piece of meat from Li Wei's bowl.
Li Wei looked at him.
"You have your own."
"Yours tastes better."
"They're the same."
"Then why are you complaining?"
Li Wei pushed the bowl closer.
"Take the rest."
Yulan smiled.
"You're learning."
They stayed until the market began to empty.
On the walk back, Li Wei caught Yulan's hand in the shadow of a closed storefront.
"Tomorrow might be difficult," he said.
"Because of your father?"
"Because of everything he represents."
Yulan squeezed his fingers.
"Then tomorrow, we'll deal with tomorrow."
Li Wei looked at him.
"And tonight?"
"Tonight, you're walking me home."
"That's all?"
Yulan pretended to consider it.
"You may earn a kiss if you behave."
Li Wei leaned down and kissed him before he could say anything else.
When they parted, Yulan was smiling.
"You didn't behave."
"I've never claimed to be good."
"No," Yulan said, slipping his hand free as they reached the brighter street. "But you're trying."
Li Wei watched him walk ahead.
For now, that was enough.
At the Li estate, Chairman Li stood alone in his study.
A letter lay open on his desk.
It had arrived that afternoon from Shanghai.
There was no signature, only a short message written in a careful hand.
Zhou Ren is alive. The records have been found. If your son continues asking questions, the past will not remain buried.
Chairman Li read it twice.
Then he locked it inside his desk.
His son would come tomorrow.
And this time, he would have to decide how much of the truth he was willing to tell.
Outside, the estate gates closed for the night.
Far away, in a rented room near Shanghai South Station, an old man placed a photograph beside his bed.
Zhou Ren looked at the face of Zhang Meilin.
He had kept the photograph for twenty years.
He had survived the fire, the false death records, and the years spent under a name that wasn't his.
But the news from the western district had changed things.
Someone had opened the archive.
Someone had found the case.
And Li Wei and Yulan were no longer looking for a dead man.
They were looking for him.