For as long as he could remember, Kai had been calm and rational.
Racing was an interest, a hobby, and a tool to make money. The moment he allowed himself to become greedy, he knew this money-burning sport could drag his entire family down, just as it had for his father and for his own childhood. He refused to put his parents through that nightmare a third time.
So, he had always kept his head, avoiding any emotional decisions that could destroy everything his parents had worked so hard to build.
And yet, when the opportunity was real, when it was right in front of him, the tremor in his soul couldn't lie. He could fool Marchionne, he could fool Nicolas, but he couldn't fool himself. That fanaticism, that joy, that irrepressible need... it was all breaking free, flooding his veins, making his skin flush and betraying his true desires.
He wanted to chase the limit of speed.
When, exactly, had things gone so off the rails?
Taking a deep breath, Kai reeled in his scattered thoughts, finding his focus again. He had to solve the problem in front of him.
His physics homework.
The low, dull roar of the plane's engines settled into a steady hum. It felt like a stone dropped in deep water, a muffled pressure that made his ears pop. He opened his mouth, trying to clear them, but the sound was still distant, as if he were wrapped in a bubble.
Kai stretched his arms and legs, his fingers and toes slightly swollen from the long flight. He didn't have time to worry about it. He was on the flight back to Shanghai, and his final exams would start almost the second he landed. There was no time to breathe.
He had promised his mother he wouldn't let his studies slide, and he had to keep that promise.
This was how credibility worked. Only by proving he could keep his word would his promises have any weight in the future.
"...Good morning, passengers. We will soon be arriving at our destination, Shanghai Pudong International Airport. Please fasten your seatbelts. We will be preparing for descent in thirty minutes, and the lavatories will be unavailable..."
Rustling sounds filled the cabin as passengers slowly woke up. Kai, who had already washed up, finally had a moment of peace. He packed away his papers and looked out the window.
When he'd snuck off to Rome, he'd thought it would be a five-day trip, in and out. He never imagined that "in and out" would turn into more than two months.
Now, looking at the familiar city skyline, he felt a strange mix of joy and apprehension.
So, this was what it felt in to be "anxious when approaching home."
At the arrivals gate, Lu Cheng, who had been trying to stay calm, was starting to lose his battle with anxiety. He glanced at Jiang Mo. She had insisted on coming with him to the airport, but he had no idea how she would react when she actually saw their son.
Kai was already in the doghouse. The whole "Rome incident" had never been properly settled. If something else had gone wrong on the trip...
Lu Cheng checked his phone again. The passengers from the Milan flight were mostly all out. He dialed Kai's number. Still off.
Beside him, Jiang Mo was a picture of calm, but it was just a facade. Her sharp, intelligent eyebrows were drawn together, her clear eyes lost in thought.
Just then, a flash of movement.
"Kai!"
Jiang Mo was the first to spot him in the crowd. Her fingers, which she'd had clenched into a fist, suddenly sprang open. She grabbed Lu Cheng's arm and squeezed, hard, the tension in her chest finally easing with relief.
She almost surged forward but managed to stop herself.
Lu Cheng, not noticing, hung up his phone and began waving his arms frantically, a huge grin on his face.
And then, in the same instant, both of their expressions froze, their faces stiffening. They looked at each other, confused. Neither of them understood what they were seeing.
Kai was walking toward them, and strapped to his back, in a cross-shape, were two black wooden-looking poles. From a distance, it looked for all the world like he was "baring his back for a flogging"—a traditional, dramatic plea for forgiveness.
But this was an international airport! They have strict rules. Where did he even get poles?
A moment later, Kai reached the barrier. He didn't come through. He just stopped, stood with his hands clasped in front of him, and bowed his head, the picture of a disobedient child, silently apologizing.
Lu Cheng looked at his wife, quickly jumping to his son's defense. "See? He really knows he was wrong."
Jiang Mo shot him a look that could kill, and Lu Cheng swallowed the rest of his words.
Kai didn't stay there long. He walked around the barrier, and as he got closer, Jiang Mo finally saw what the "poles" were.
They weren't wood. They were fakes, made from rolled-up posters, wrapped tightly in clear packing tape. They'd looked convincing from a distance, but up close, the illusion fell apart.
So that's why he'd taken so long to come out. He was in the bathroom, making props.
Jiang Mo couldn't believe her eyes. "Lu Zhizhou! What... is this?"
Kai looked up, his face a mask of pure innocence, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. He then "realized," and with a flourish, he whipped the "poles" off his back, holding them out like a staff. "Oh, these? Posters! Movie posters, Mom. You love movies!"
"A present!"
He offered them to her with a dazzling smile.
Jiang Mo was dumbstruck. Beside her, Lu Cheng couldn't hold it in any longer. "See? He remembered to get you a gift. He didn't get me anything. Tsk. A son is always closer to his mom."
A pfft of supressed laughter escaped with his words.
Jiang Mo stared at her son. "You..." But she couldn't stop the smile from climbing onto her own face.
Kai seized the opening, lunging forward and wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. "Mom. I missed you."
Jiang Mo's entire body went rigid. In her memory, this was the first time her son had ever hugged her. They weren't a "hugging" family. She didn't know what to do.
She hesitated, then finally raised her hands and lightly patted him on the back. At last, she returned the embrace, and, to her own surprise, her eyes began to burn.
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