In Capital City’s airport, everything is much the same as it was three years ago when he left, with travelers bustling to and fro.
Dragging his suitcase, standing in the vast airport, watching the crowd, Titus Zane can’t quite articulate what he’s feeling at this moment.
It’s truly sad to think that returning to the city where he was born and raised, he has nowhere to stay and has to check into a hotel.
Dragging his suitcase, his bare face follows the slow-moving crowd forward.
"Beatrice! Beatrice! Beatrice..." Just walking out of the security exit, cheers rise above one another, ringing in his ears. Looking at the densely packed crowd in the waiting hall and the signs held aloft, it must be fans welcoming some celebrity.
Titus Zane is not a fan chaser, nor is he curious about which celebrity it is, so he continues walking calmly with the rest of the travelers.
Suddenly, the throng of fans stirs, and their exclamations rise and fall in turn.
Seeing the figure that has emerged from the security exit, they excitedly surge forward.
Abroad, Titus Zane has never encountered such a scene, and he can’t understand the fans’ frenzy. In the crush of the crowd, he finds himself surrounded by fans, making it somewhat difficult to leave.
Turning in the direction of the crowd’s jostling, looking down the VIP passage, a girl dressed in simple, clean denim, wearing white canvas shoes, and her black hair tied in a ponytail, is walking toward them with a smile under the care of two assistants.
Titus Zane furrows his brow in confusion, lamenting how much has changed in three years. The unrestrained girl from three years ago has somehow become a star.
While he is reflecting, "Sophie" walks toward him, surrounded by the assistants and her fans.
"Excuse me, miss, are you also waiting for an autograph?" Beatrice Hargrave stops in front of him, her lips curved in her signature radiant smile.
"Soph..." Titus Zane begins to speak, about to ask, Sophie, don’t you recognize me?
But then he sees the girl in front of him turn to an assistant and get a photo of herself, and in his stunned moment, she thrusts it into his hand. "Beautiful sister, this is my autographed photo, I’m thrilled to have such a pretty fan like you."
Surrounded by a crowd of fans, Beatrice Hargrave heads toward the exit of the waiting hall.
Clutching the photo that was shoved into his hand, watching "Sophie Foster’s" retreating figure, he can’t shake the feeling that something is off.
As Beatrice Hargrave leaves, the airport waiting hall settles down.
Turning his gaze back to the signature on the photo in his hand, Titus Zane can’t help but read aloud, "Beatrice Hargrave?"
Clearly, it’s Sophie Foster. Why is she called Beatrice Hargrave? Could it be... that he mistook the person?
Putting the photo into the bag he’s carrying and pulling his suitcase, Titus Zane heads straight for the exit.
Last night, Xiao Man helped him book a hotel online. Early this morning, the two of them parted ways at the Capital City airport; Xiao Man went to the Great Wall in Capital City, a dream she’s long cherished.
As for Titus Zane, he returns to Capital City to settle the debts of gratitude he left behind three years ago.
In three years, Capital City hasn’t changed much. The office buildings along the streets still soar into the sky, and the roads are still heavily congested.
The only change is in people’s hearts.
Having a home, yet not having one, it’s been three years since his father publicly announced the disownment, and not once has there been contact with him.
Neither from his mother nor his sister, Olivia Zane.
If one day they were to bump into each other on the street, he wonders what kind of expressions they would wear.
Separated by the car window, watching the vehicles brushing past each other on the street, Titus Zane raises his hand to adjust his brown, wavy hair, the curve of his lips tinged with a hint of bitterness.
He’s told himself that he’s let go, but returning to his hometown, the complexity of emotions still makes his heart sour.
The taxi stops at the hotel entrance, the doorman quickly comes over to help him with his suitcase and takes it to his room. After giving a tip and the door to his room closes, Titus Zane strides to the terrace and yanks open the sheer curtains.
A breeze wafts in, leaning on the railing, he tilts his face upward and closes his eyes, enjoying the caress of his hometown’s breeze.