Five years after their breakup, Lin Yang is directing air traffic from the control tower when a familiar voice comes over the radio:
“CA981, requesting permission to land.”
She looks up. The Boeing 787 cuts through the storm clouds like a long-delayed blade, slicing through every bit of composure she has left.
Later, the cabin door opens. Fu Xun hooks a finger under the brim of his uniform cap and reaches out to her, grinning like a rogue.
“Director Lin, are you still in charge of my takeoff and landing?” You are the only reason I ever change course.
