Chapter 9: Overthinking Is Useless; Ultimately, It Was Never Meant to Be Mine

“Here’s your wallet. I used the cash inside—I’m sure you won’t mind, right?”

Downstairs at the hotel, Zhao Chen tossed the wallet to Tang Yan with a smile.

The forty-plus thousand kyats, just over a thousand yuan, had mostly been spent on food, drinks, and lodging.

Considering the promise of the jade material, Tang Yan chose not to make an issue of it.

“Later, when you get into the trunk, try not to make any noise passing through the checkpoint, okay?”

“No problem. As long as I can get back, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Zhao Chen was already eager to return home and quickly climbed into the trunk.

The roads in Myanmar were nothing like back home—potholes everywhere, the rough ride churning his stomach. He seriously suspected this woman was deliberately driving into the bumps just to torment him.

Fortunately, crossing the border went smoothly. After more than an hour, Tang Yan pulled over by the roadside and opened the trunk.

“We’re back in the country now. Give me the jade.”

Zhao Chen, pale-faced, climbed out and handed over a piece of jade no bigger than a fist, then immediately rushed to the roadside to vomit.

“Why is it so small? Did you… huh?”

Tang Yan was about to complain but suddenly noticed something unusual about the jade. She quickly shone a light on it for a closer look.

Under the strong light, one side showed a rich apple green, while the other side revealed a faint lavender hue—a rare and distinctive piece.

Although the jade was small, too small to carve a bracelet, its translucence was exceptional, almost reaching the quality of icy jade.

Whether made into a landscape pendant or a ring, it could fetch a good price.

“Looks pretty good. You can drive off with the car. Remember to call me when you get more good stuff.”

Happily, Tang Yan tucked the jade away and called her company to send a car for her.

Zhao Chen gulped down a few mouthfuls of mineral water, finally feeling a little better. Seeing Tang Yan waiting by the roadside, he kindly offered, “Want me to give you a ride into the city?”

“My ride’s almost here. You go on by yourself.”

Tang Yan pinched her nose in disgust and firmly declined.

Since she wasn’t interested, Zhao Chen didn’t bother. He floored the accelerator, heading straight for the city.

Because the red SUV bore Myanmar license plates, it could only be driven near the border. Driving it all the way home would likely cause many problems.

From southern Yunnan to his hometown was over a thousand kilometers. Zhao Chen needed to find a way to get a new ID card first.

Without it, he couldn’t take a bus, train, or plane.

At a police station in the city, Zhao Chen nervously stepped inside.

The clerk glanced at him with a blank expression and asked, “Hello, sir. What service do you need?”

“Well… I’m a visitor here from out of town. I lost my ID card. Can I apply for a replacement here?”

He had checked on his phone beforehand—ID replacement was now connected nationwide. Any police station could handle it.

The clerk looked him over again and asked, “Do you remember your ID number?”

“Of course.” Zhao Chen quickly recited it, his heart pounding. Silently, he prayed not to be flagged as a wanted fugitive.

“For a lost ID replacement, the fee is forty yuan. A temporary ID costs ten. If you want it mailed, add another ten for postage.”

“I’ll need it mailed, so sixty yuan total, right?”

“Yes. Scan the code over there and fill in the mailing address on the form.”

Within fifteen minutes, Zhao Chen walked out of the service hall with a temporary ID, his long-held worry finally eased.

“Damn, you scared me to death.”

For over half an hour inside, he had mentally planned escape routes, ready to bolt at any sign of trouble.

Thankfully, everything went smoothly. He could finally take the train home.

Feeling a weight lifted, he went to a nearby mobile store, bought a domestic SIM card, and secured a high-speed train ticket for the afternoon. Then he called his mother.

“Mom, I’m back in the country. I have a four o’clock train. I’ll be home tonight.”

“Really? Are you safe, son? Blessings from the Bodhisattva! My son is finally coming home!”

His mother was so overwhelmed she could barely speak before bursting into tears.

Zhao Chen’s nose tingled. Blinking back tears, he said, “Mom, don’t cry. I’m fine. I’ll be home tonight.”

“Xiao Chen, don’t hang up. Your dad wants to say something.”

It was the weekend, and his father was home. A moment later, his father’s voice came through the receiver.

“Coming home?”

His father was usually taciturn, but Zhao Chen could hear the excitement and happiness in his tone.

“Yes, Dad. I’ll be home tonight. Have we paid back the relatives we owe?”

“Good to hear. The debts are paid, but…”

“But what? It’s enough that you’re safe. We can talk about everything else when you get back.”

Before his father could finish, his mother snatched the phone away.

Zhao Chen was puzzled. If the debts were cleared, what else could be troubling his father?

Could it be that his girlfriend was already married off?

He sighed. He couldn’t blame Xiao Tong. After more than two years of silence, it was only natural she might have moved on. No one could be expected to wait forever.

At 3:30 in the afternoon, Zhao Chen arrived at the high-speed rail station, went through security, and boarded the train.

His mood was half joy at returning home, half nostalgia for the memories with his girlfriend, Li Antong.

Li Antong was Zhao Chen’s university classmate, from an ordinary family with both parents employed.

They met by chance in the cafeteria when Zhao Chen spilled soup on her skirt, and a mutual friend paid for the replacement.

Their frequent chats blossomed into romance.

After graduation, Zhao Chen moved to her city to be near her.

But when marriage talks began, Li Antong’s parents demanded an exorbitant bride price, shutting him out—and that’s how he fell into the trap set by his roommate Sun Liang.

Time flew when burdened by worries.

A station announcement interrupted his thoughts. Looking out the window, he saw they had arrived at his home county.

The bright local hospital billboard outside the carriage stirred mixed feelings.

Best to let it go. It’s not his to hold.

Putting thoughts of Li Antong aside, Zhao Chen stepped off the train with a lighter heart and hailed a taxi.

Arriving beneath his apartment complex, he breathed deeply, heart heavy yet hopeful, and knocked on the door.

“Xiao Chen’s home!” came his mother’s hurried footsteps from within.

The moment the door opened, Zhao Chen saw his mother’s graying hair and deeply wrinkled face. He broke down, tears flowing uncontrollably.

He knelt before her, choking on his words, “Mom, I’m sorry. I’ve been unfilial and caused you trouble.”

Only two years apart, and his mother had aged a decade.

“Don’t say that. The important thing is you’re back safe… you’re back…”

She wiped her tears and quickly helped him to his feet.