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Chapter 21: A Confession Under the Moonlight
The outskirts of the city, late at night. On a hilltop viewing platform.
A young man and woman sat perched on the railing, letting the cool breeze sweep across their faces while occasional cars passed behind them, headlights flashing briefly before disappearing into the dark.
Gan Yanyu looked completely at ease.
She spread her arms wide, as if releasing herself from all burdens, a faint smile playing on her lips.
The world stretched out before her, vast and endless. For the first time in what felt like forever, nothing seemed capable of shattering the peace she held in this moment.
If I were to die here now, right in this gentle embrace of moonlight and wind...
It wouldn’t be such a bad ending, would it?
But still, there was one thing left that tugged at her curiosity.
“Lin Tian,” she turned to him, her voice soft but probing, “what did you mean earlier when you said ‘half as bad’?”
Gan Yanyu tilted her head slightly, waiting for his response.
For someone who appeared so self-sufficient—working odd jobs alone, living independently despite hardships—Lin Tian had struck her as peculiarly unbothered by life’s challenges. Everything about him seemed natural, almost expected, even though logically, it shouldn’t have been.
To Gan Yanyu, Lin Tian remained an enigma.
“What do you mean, ‘half’?” he asked, feigning confusion.
“When I told you about my childhood, you muttered something about ‘half as bad.’ What was that?”
“Oh, that.” Lin Tian gazed up at the star-speckled sky, his tone casual, as if recounting a story he’d told countless times before. He leaned back slightly, resting against the railing.
“I was born into a family that probably shouldn’t have existed in the first place,” he began. “My mom got pregnant, and my dad married her out of obligation.”
“By the time I was three, my mom packed up and left—just disappeared with all her things. After that, it was just me and my old man. Then, when I turned fifteen, my dad gave me some bizarre speech. After that, he took off too.”
“Bizarre speech?” Gan Yanyu interrupted in confusion, unable to help herself.
“Yeah. He said, ‘Son, I’ve got dreams of my own to chase. I can’t keep being tied down by family obligations. As part of the Lin clan, if you want to make something of yourself, you need to learn independence. No parents holding you back—that’s how legends are made. So consider this me helping you.’”
“And then… he left.”
“Wait, what?” Gan Yanyu stared at him, dumbfounded. Each sentence Lin Tian spoke made perfect sense individually, but together, they painted a picture so surreal she struggled to comprehend it.
How could anyone endure such abandonment—not once, but twice? And yet here he was, sitting beside her, calm and composed.
Poor guy, she thought, feeling a pang of sympathy. She hadn’t expected Lin Tian to carry such a heavy past, especially not one filled with so much loss.
And yet, despite everything, he remained resilient.
Her heart sank as guilt washed over her. Slowly, her gaze dropped to the ground.
Noticing the shift in her demeanor, Lin Tian reached over and patted her shoulder lightly, offering a reassuring smile.
“It’s all in the past,” he said softly. “Honestly, I’m grateful to them. If they hadn’t left, I might never have figured out what I truly wanted in life. Living alone isn’t so bad—it builds character.”
Why does it feel like I’m the one comforting her instead of the other way around? Lin Tian mused inwardly.
Gan Yanyu raised her eyes to meet his, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “Did you ever… have a moment where you considered giving up on life?”
Lin Tian froze, his breath hitching for a fraction of a second. He understood exactly why she was asking—and it cut deeper than words could express.
“Jacqueline du Pré,” he answered after a pause.
“Who?”
“A British cellist.” His tone was measured, careful.
“I’ve never heard of her,” Gan Yanyu admitted, frowning.
“Britain has a long history. It’s normal for there to be musicians you haven’t heard of,” Lin Tian added hastily, silently thankful for the excuse to cover the discrepancies between his memories of Earth and this alternate reality.
“True.”
“Jacqueline started playing the cello at five years old. By twenty, she became famous overnight after performing Elgar’s Cello Concerto. She was hailed as one of the greatest cellists of her generation—a prodigy whose brilliance captivated the entire world.”
“Twenty…” Gan Yanyu murmured under her breath. At eighteen, she felt painfully inadequate next to such achievements.
“But at twenty-six,” Lin Tian went on, his voice steady, “she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. She had to retire from public performances, and eventually passed away at forty-two.”
“No…” Gan Yanyu whispered, her chest tightening with emotion. Her hands clenched involuntarily.
“What most people don’t know is that even after her diagnosis, she continued performing privately whenever she could. Despite her deteriorating health, she refused to give up. She played until her body simply couldn’t anymore—right up until the end.”
As Lin Tian finished speaking, he turned to look at Gan Yanyu. The purpose of his story was clear.
Jacqueline du Pré—a gifted musician whose life ended tragically young. In many ways, Gan Yanyu reminded him of her: both prodigies, both facing cruel fates far too soon.
Perhaps it really was true—talent often came with a price.
But unlike Jacqueline, Gan Yanyu hadn’t yet reached her peak. She still had dreams to chase, music to create.
Lin Tian hoped she’d find strength in the tale rather than despair.
If you love something, pursue it relentlessly—even if it means carrying your passion to the grave. At least then, you’ll leave without regrets.
Forget about showing photos to your grandfather in heaven. If I were him, I’d slap you silly first for wasting your potential.
His voice grew more impassioned as frustration bubbled within him. Despite hours of trying, he still hadn’t managed to convince her to change her mind. The weight of his failure pressed heavily on his shoulders.
This might be the last thing he could do for her.
If this doesn’t work… Lin Tian shook his head. He didn’t want to think about failing again.
“You’re right, Lin Tian.”
After a long silence, Gan Yanyu finally spoke, lifting her tear-streaked face toward him.
“I can’t leave—not like this. I owe it to Grandpa.”
“Yes!” Lin Tian exclaimed, relief flooding through him.
“Grandpa will definitely wake up one day. Whether it takes ten years, twenty years, or even thirty years—I’ll wait however long it takes.” Gan Yanyu’s voice trembled but carried an unwavering resolve.
“That’s right,” Lin Tian echoed fervently.
Wait…
“Wake up?”
“Three days ago, Grandpa was in a car accident. He’s in a vegetative state now. The doctors said… chances of recovery are slim.”
“Oh…”
Though it wasn’t morally right to feel relieved, Lin Tian couldn’t deny the small wave of comfort washing over him upon hearing the news. So he hadn’t died after all.
Misjudging someone’s death felt worse somehow.
Still, the gravity of the situation settled heavily on Lin Tian’s chest. Becoming a vegetable was no trivial matter; waking up from such a condition was practically unheard of outside novels.
But wait—earlier, Gan Yanyu mentioned waiting…
Ten, twenty, thirty years?
What kind of terminal illness allows someone that much time to wait?
Thinking of her grandfather, Gan Yanyu’s throat tightened, and tears spilled uncontrollably down her cheeks. Not wanting to lose composure in front of Lin Tian, she slid off the railing and turned away.
“Grandpa promised! He said he’d wait for me to come back after treating my asthma in England…” Her voice cracked, raw with emotion.
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