The Predetermined Outcome

"We're here."

After getting off the motorcycle, Ye Shuang glanced around and realized this was just an ordinary urban area—Zhanmen, though technically part of Haizhu District, had never really developed. The city's focus had always been on the eastern side, leaving the western areas neglected and dotted with rural pockets, often joked about as the "suburbs."

But the residents of Zhanmen didn’t seem to mind. Life here remained largely unchanged, and in Guangfu Province, people valued "speaking the same language"—both literally and figuratively. The eastern and western parts of the city had slight dialect differences, so even though Zhanmen was administratively part of Haizhu, locals referred to trips downtown as "going to Haizhu" rather than "going to the city center."

"There really aren’t any tall buildings here… I think I came to Crocodile Island around here when I was a kid," Ye Shuang mused as he surveyed the surroundings. Just then, a voice beside him spoke up, "Help me down."

Ye Shuang turned to see An Shiyu struggling slightly to dismount the motorcycle. She wasn’t particularly tall, standing around 1.6 meters, and handling the bike was a bit of a challenge for her.

Her ankles wobbled as she adjusted her footing, the little leather shoes she wore adding a touch of amusement to the scene.

"Just buy a smaller bike," Ye Shuang suggested, walking over to help her steady the motorcycle.

"I like them big."

"..."

Once on the ground, An Shiyu stretched, arching her back dramatically with surprising flexibility.

"Alright, let’s go," An Shiyu said.

"We’re here for milk tea?" Ye Shuang pointed at the residential buildings ahead. This area was mostly populated by local villagers, with nothing beyond a few convenience stores and small eateries.

"Just follow me."

An Shiyu led the way, and Ye Shuang trailed behind.

The girl weaved through a maze of alleys before finally stopping at the very end of a narrow lane.

A dilapidated shack came into view. Above the entrance hung a sign, but the words had long faded, the surface bleached and weathered by time.

Without hesitation, An Shiyu swayed her way inside.

Baffled but curious, Ye Shuang followed.

The interior was dim, the air thick with the musty scent of aged concrete. As his eyes adjusted, Ye Shuang realized this was a tiny shop—though "shop" might have been too generous a term. A simple cardboard box held a scattering of dusty spicy strips, and a few glass jars on the counter contained snacks like crispy peanuts, sunflower seeds, and twisted dough twists.

Behind the counter sat an elderly woman. Despite the summer heat, she wore a thick cotton cap, her face etched with deep, knife-like wrinkles.

"Granny, two cups of milk tea, and some peanuts and seeds," An Shiyu said, standing at the counter.

A few seconds passed before the old woman slowly opened her cloudy eyes and rose unsteadily.

Her hands trembled as she scooped peanuts and seeds into a plastic bag. Meanwhile, An Shiyu walked to an old-fashioned fridge—the kind where drinks floated in icy water—and pulled out two dripping milk tea bottles.

"How much?"

"Two milk teas, peanuts…" the old woman mumbled, raising five bony fingers. "Two yuan."

An Shiyu, however, pulled out a hundred-yuan bill and tucked it into the drawer. "Here, I’ll leave it here."

"Good… good," the woman wheezed, shuffling back to her chair.

Without another word, An Shiyu grabbed the snacks and left.

Ye Shuang hurried after her.

"You came all this way just to buy this stuff?" he asked, catching up. "Is it really that good?"

An Shiyu peeled two peanuts and handed them to him.

Ye Shuang tossed them into his mouth, then frowned. "Stale."

"Yeah, stale. Just like that granny," An Shiyu said, leading him to a stone step at the edge of the village. She sat down and cracked open her milk tea.

"That old woman lost her father as a child, her husband and son in middle age, and even her grandson in her later years," An Shiyu said, taking a sip. "The villagers call her a jinx—like some outdated relic that’s in the way no matter where she goes."

Ye Shuang checked the milk tea’s label. "It’s expired."

"Yep." An Shiyu didn’t seem bothered. She drank quietly, her gaze drifting toward the distant fields.

Ye Shuang took a sip as well. The artificial creamer was overpoweringly sweet, far from pleasant.

"So you came all this way just to help her?"

"Not really," An Shiyu said. "I just promised her once that I’d take care of her body after she dies."

"Though she probably forgot. At her age, dementia isn’t surprising."

A heavy silence settled between them. Ye Shuang suddenly found the milk tea even harder to swallow. He ate a few more peanuts, but they tasted like dry clumps of dirt in his mouth.

"Hey, old man," An Shiyu suddenly looked at him, her bangs shadowing eyes that held something unreadable. "Do you believe in fate?"

"No."

"Me neither." She paused, then added, "But I’ve noticed some people’s fates seem set in stone. No matter how hard they try, nothing changes."

"Then again, some people need to struggle just to realize, ‘Oh, effort really is useless. The ending was decided long ago.’"

"You’re too young to be thinking like this," Ye Shuang chuckled, downing the rest of his milk tea in one go. "Ugh, terrible."

He screwed the cap back on and tossed the empty bottle into the plastic bag. "Sometimes, life isn’t just about chasing a happy ending. A beautiful journey isn’t bad either."

"If a painful ending is inevitable, at least make the journey worthwhile."

An Shiyu studied him, thoughtful. After a few minutes, she stood. "Let’s go back."

"So soon?"

"Unless you want to spend the night here?" She tilted her head. "We could find a hotel and sleep."

"Hard pass."

An Shiyu packed up the remaining snacks and drinks.

"Not finishing them?"

"Nah. They’re kinda gross."

Ye Shuang: "..."

Back at the motorcycle, Ye Shuang noticed An Shiyu standing beside him, helmet in hand but making no move to mount the bike.

"Too tired to drive?"

"Should’ve just taken the car from the start," Ye Shuang sighed, taking the keys from her and starting the engine.

"Hop on."

He put on his helmet, but when no movement came from behind, he turned—only to find An Shiyu curled on the ground, clutching her chest.

"An Shiyu?!"