The house is quiet after Mu Yi has taken Mu Mu’er away.

It has never been this quiet. It feels like Mu Mu’er has given a cute makeover to every corner of the restaurant while he was here.

Now, it’s vast, silent and empty.

Bai Yao immediately starts occupying himself with work. He chops the beef needed tonight, then marinates it. He then slices tuna fillet into cubes. After that, he washes the vegetables and sea mollusks needed for the seafood salad. This continues until he has nothing more to do.

He has completed his prep work of the day with mechanical rigidity. Taking a seat on a chair in the restaurant, he straightens his legs to try and relax.

Less than a minute later, a restless Bai Yao leaves the restaurant with his keys and cigarettes. He walks down the stairs onto the beach.

A few years ago, when he just moved to Qiaohai, he’d always find some time in the day to walk on the beach and relax. He could sit until the sun sets here, only realising how much time has passed when the dying sunlight gradually disappears beneath the ocean. He isn’t sure when the habit stopped, when the orange slice of sun became samey and boring to him.

He can hear the waves lashing at the coast. Rolling up his pants, he takes a seat on the soft hand, and blanks out watching the horizon.

Some time later, he takes his box of cigarettes out. He bites on one, pulls it out, and looks for his lighter. The breeze is strong, so he has to protect the flame to light the cigarette. He inhales deeply, and then holds the cigarette between his fingers, releasing a puff of smoke slowly.

He thinks he’s not thinking about anything. His gaze lands vaguely in the direction of the island in the distance. He hasn’t been there once even though he’s been in Qiaohai for years.

Maybe he should take a trip there some time. See if the starry skies there really is as magnificent as everyone says it is.

The sun has become gentler recently. He wonders what phase the moon will be in tonight.

It’s the afternoon, and the tide is coming back in. Bai Yao isn’t too far away from the water, and he finds his attention drifting until the water splashes onto his legs. Still, he sits, letting the water wash and rise over his legs and abdomen, until his clothes become drenched.

A dolphin emerges and draws an almost perfect arc in the far distance before disappearing beneath the white waves again.

His cigarette has been doused a long time ago, but he still senses nothing. The breeze of the late afternoon cools him right from his drenched clothes to his very fingertips.

It’s been two hours since he came down to the beach. He only rises to return to the restaurant when stars begin to dot the dimming sky.

The restaurant remains lifeless as always. It feels like it’s doubled in vastness since the other occupant left.

How did he ever spend time alone when Mu Mu’er was not here?

An empty house that was suddenly brought to life when a bowl of soft white hydrangea was brought in, sowing liveliness into the small space.

Bai Yao has become used to the fluttery flowers prancing about, becoming the little lit lamp lighting his chest up. However, the pot of flower has now been taken back by its owner. The little corner where the pot was is now empty.

All was well when there was never a pot of hydrangea to begin with. Now, though, the flower is gone, and something in his chest is also gone. That little gentleness that completed the home was gone.

The gentleness that was the supporting beam of the walls and the roof.

Now it’s gone. The home does not feel like a home.

Bai Yao tries to occupy himself again. This time, he’s tidying. However, there is a limit to how much you can tidy a place that’s already tidy, and now, it’s already immaculate.

Bai Yao’s gaze lands outside, and he then moves on to the back garden.

The inflatable pool is still there, filled with water. Bai Yao just ordered some of those plastic yellow ducks for Mu Mu’er, thinking he’d enjoy the company. They remain freshly delivered, still in the cardboard box in the corner of the garden.

He should have given them to Mu Yi. He has no use for them when Mu Mu’er is gone.

That said, there is anything and everything in the city. A little ugly inflatable pool can’t possibly compare to an eight-lane Olympic pool. Mu Yi looks pretty rich. Mu Mu’er can enjoy material comfort.

Plastic yellow ducks do not belong in Olympic swimming pools. They only belong in bathtubs.

Bai Yao drains the water out of the pool, followed by the air, and folds it up to store it elsewhere, when something under the pool captures his attention.

A scallop shell, placed underneath the pool. Covered up by a small pile of yellowing grass.

Dozens of litres of water did not damage the poor shell any. It’s still intact, and actually looks a little cute.

Bai Yao picks it up, and it doesn’t really look much special. Mu Mu’er probably dropped this when he was playing in the pool before.

The little seashell isn’t valuable or anything. He should throw it away.

Still, on his way to the trash can, Bai Yao realises the shell feels vaguely familiar. Is it not simply an ordinary shell?

He looks it up and down, and feels the chip done by a knife on it with the tip of his fingers. Then he remembers.

When he brought Mu Mu’er home, that night, this was the very first scallop he pried open for Mu Mu’er. Mu Mu’er kept the shell in his little pocket.

He almost threw it away when he was giving Mu Mu’er a bath that night. The boy stopped him, and did everything he could to save it.

When Mu Mu’er has transformed, he went to hide the shell somewhere. Bai Yao didn’t see where he hid it; it turns out, he put it under the inflatable pool.

Did he forget about the shell when leaving? Without Mu Mu’er around, this shell as lost its meaning. It’s no longer the valuable treasured by the boy, but a simple, useless seashell.

Bai Yao continues playing with the shell in his hand, until finally, he raises it to his lips, and give it a light kiss. He then goes back inside, and put the shell in the corner of the drawer in the living room cabinet. It’s the safest space in the entire house.

Mu Mu’er didn’t leave much behind after his stay here, but the little seashell, a bright pink inflatable pool, and a warmth in Bai Yao’s chest.

He took everything else with him.

It might take him two, three days to get used to life without his Yaoyao. Mu Yi will be there for him in his stead. He will give him back his original home.

Bai Yao wants to feel happy for him, but he cannot deny that there is still a deeper, more subtle pain persisting in his chest. It feels like he’s lost something important to him.

He can’t help but imagine if he tried a little harder to fight for Mu Mu’er’s stay. Or, if he told Mu Mu’er that he has come to harbour feelings for him earlier…

Well, that would probably have been less than helpful.

A friendship and company that blossomed in the summer has come to wilt by autumn is not exactly too surprising by the nature of things.