In spring, as the weather warmed slightly, Yan Xi couldn’t tell hot from the cold. A-Heng helped him change out of his winter clothes and bought several spring outfits. She smiled sweetly looking at his new clothes, asking him: “Yan Xi, do you like these clothes?”

Yan Xi didn’t know, but he grabbed the sleeve, took a deep breath, and in a small, muffled voice said: “Fragrant.”

Hehe, A-Heng laughed. Such innocence, how endearing.

“I put spikenard in the clothes storage.” She smiled, knowing he wouldn’t understand but still telling him everything, so it wouldn’t be lonely.

Two months had passed of their three-month agreement. Yan Xi spoke less and less, to the point where Dr. Zheng could barely proceed with hypnosis. Most of the time he just stared blankly at Dr. Zheng or cried helplessly like a child.

Finally, psychological therapy reached its limit.

Now Dr. Zheng often uses two medications on Yan Xi: chlorpromazine and hydroxyzine. Thick needles, and transparent liquid, were slowly injected into Yan Xi’s bluish veins.

She watched as he went from crying to silence, like a wooden puppet. Yes, the Pinocchio he spoke of, only the tear stains remained on his face, blurring his features.

She helped wipe his face, but he gently leaned against her and fell asleep, his breathing soft, pure as a child’s.

She said: “Dr. Zheng, can we not use these medicines? After taking them, Yan Xi barely eats, just half a bowl of rice. He seems lifeless.”

Dr. Zheng smiled: “Without them, is he any more lively?”

A-Heng nodded, speaking earnestly: “Yes, without medicine, when I feed him, he’ll obediently eat a whole bowl. And when I talk to him, he’ll converse with me.”

Dr. Zheng shook his head: “He only speaks like a child. In my recent examinations, his aphasia has become very severe – how could he possibly converse with you? Besides, as you said, you feed him rather than eat by himself. On his own, he probably doesn’t even remember how to eat anymore. Now, even his instinctive memories are slowly fading, understand?”

A-Heng gently patted the young man sleeping on her lap, smiling: “Like a little piglet, sleep, sleep until the end of time. If you don’t wake up, I’ll sell you to the child-traders.”

That day the sun was beautiful, so she moved a small stool and placed him under the banyan tree outside the door.

The sunlight was warm, the tree shadows blocking much of the light. He stretched out his hand into the sunlight beyond the shadow, felt the heat, then withdrew it, completely focused, like an interesting game he never tired of.

A-Heng smiled, turning back inside to prepare lunch. She left quietly, not letting him notice her departure.

As she kneaded dough, her fingers covered in flour, she suddenly heard firecrackers outside. Recently, neighborhood children had started playing with old firecrackers, scaring adults, and being very mischievous. She was startled, thought of Yan Xi, and walked out without wiping her hands.

Yan Xi was surrounded by a group of eight or nine-year-old children. Amid their laughing voices was a rhyme, mocking words about “idiot” and “crazy person.” The most childish voices speaking the cruelest words.

A-Heng grew angry, her brows darkening: “What are you doing!”

Seeing A-Heng arrive, the children made faces and ran away.

At Yan Xi’s feet were red firecracker papers, scattered, still smelling of gunpowder. He hung his head, hands covering his eyes, his whole body trembling, surely frightened by the noise.

She hesitated, then softly called: “Yan Xi.”

The young man looked up, his reddened eyes seeing A-Heng, and instantly his features crumpled. He pressed his head against her, crying loudly, sobbing, clutching her clothes, refusing to let go. His manner was both wronged and spoiled, completely unmasked.

Si Wan was very anxious, looking more worried than her.

She knew Grandfather must have made his decision to inform the American side after three months. A-Heng had thought about this too but felt happy instead – if Grandfather Yan and Yan Xi’s parents all came back to care for him, with family around, perhaps his condition would quickly improve.

A-Heng clearly understood that Yan Xi’s pain centered on his parents. When he was little, all his friends had parents except him. So although normally proud and aloof, he always showed deep filial respect toward elders, being as dutiful as possible to his grandfather.

Mother had once told her that when Yan Xi was eight, Grandfather Yan fell ill and wanted to eat wild mountain berries. But these berries grew deep in the mountains and were hard to pick. The old man didn’t want to trouble his staff, but Yan Xi disappeared for two days and a night, returning with cuts all over his face and hands, both small hands holding a handful of berries, his clothes dirty and torn. When asked where he’d been, he wouldn’t tell the truth and was even beaten by the old man.

Yan Xi had always been terrified of ghosts and spirits – what kind of filial devotion must it have taken for him to stay in the mountains for two days and a night?

Mother had also mentioned that although Yan Xi was closest to her now, he used to be filial toward Lin Ruomei as a mother figure. It was just that perhaps because Ruomei had gone to America these past two years, he seemed to have grown distant from her.

Treating her like a mother…

And what had that person given back to the child who treated her as a mother…

She asked Si Wan why he was so anxious – wouldn’t it be good if Yan Xi’s parents returned?

Si Wan smiled bitterly: “Yan Xi only has this one set of parents, but Yan Xi’s parents don’t have just this one son.”

A-Heng frowned: “They’re all biological children, aren’t they?”

Si Wan spoke somewhat uncomfortably: “When Yan Xi was born, Aunt Yan nearly died from postpartum hemorrhage while divorcing Uncle Yan. Although the couple reconciled later, Aunt Yan never liked Yan Xi. Later when uncle and aunt went abroad, why did they leave behind Yan Xi who wasn’t even weaned yet with Grandfather Yan? Although he’s biological, compared to Yan Xi who almost cost her life, the one in America is probably dearer.”

He continued, steeling himself: “A-Heng, do you know what ‘dearer’ means? It means when it comes to a crucial moment if one must be sacrificed, that person will undoubtedly be Yan Xi. If they learn that Yan Xi has hysteria and that both psychological and drug therapy have little effect…”

A-Heng felt as if she’d been doused with ice water from head to toe.

Si Wan closed his eyes: “If it were just Grandfather Yan it would be better, but fearing it would upset the old man, uncle and aunt definitely won’t tell him. If so, Yan Xi will be forcibly hospitalized.”

Forced hospitalization? The scene of numbered patients laughing and clapping at blood slowly surfaced in her mind.

She asked Si Wan: “What should I do?”

Si Wan sighed, ruffling A-Heng’s hair: “Your surname is Wen, he is Yan. The Yan family’s power rivals the Wen family’s. How scandalous would it be if a Wen family daughter were raising a Yan family son? Would Grandfather allow it? Would the Yan family allow it? A-Heng, what can you do? You’re just a child, what else can you do?”

A-Heng cried, went home, and held Yan Xi’s hand: “Yan Xi, can’t you get better soon?”

I know our Yan Xi is very good, very good, won’t disturb others’ lives, but others don’t know – what can we do?

The day Yan Xi’s father returned to China was in May.

She saw that man for the first time – he was very tall and handsome. His manner was elegant and gracious, though not particularly close with the Wen family, at least compared to how Grandfather Yan treated them. However, he brought many expensive gifts, saying they were to show respect to Grandfather Wen, along with many fashionable clothes and branded perfumes, all given to her.

He smiled at her saying: “A-Heng, thank you for taking care of Yan Xi these days.”

A-Heng stared at him, feeling empty inside: “Your smile looks very much like Yan Xi’s.”

Grandfather looked at her but said nothing in front of others, though his expression grew dark.

Yan Xi hid behind her, his large eyes secretly glancing at the man before him, showing no recognition, then lowered his head to fiddle with the silver puzzle rings in his hands.

This was a toy A-Heng had just bought him, aiming to attract his attention and coax the nameplate from his hands. She had smiled sweetly, pointing at the bare spot by the door, telling Yan Xi: “Yan Xi, our home looks so bare, very ugly. Other homes all have nameplates, only our home doesn’t. If you don’t lead the way, I can’t see the house number – what if I get lost?”

He looked at her in confusion, thought for a while, and after some time, hesitantly handed her the nameplate from his left hand. Then, he lowered his head, and rubbed his nose, making an expression of great pain.

Xin Dayi rolled his eyes, muttering: “It’s not nice to trick children, Wen Heng, but then again, only you could make Yan Xi…”

The rest of his words remained unspoken.

Only A-Heng could make Yan Xi break his rules, but what did it matter, whether before or after his illness? Separated by two surnames, how much different was it from the world’s furthest distance…

Yan Xi’s father was called Yan Dingbang, his name carrying a similar meaning to Wen Heng’s father’s name. Perhaps it was even deliberately chosen by the two families. Maybe they wanted them to be brothers; maybe they still hoped their children would marry. But what could that represent?

Yan’s father looked at A-Heng’s features, sighed almost imperceptibly, and forced a smile: “A-Heng is a good girl, getting along well with Yan Xi makes me very happy.”

Elder Wen also found a way out: “Yes, the children’s good relationship is a good thing.”

“However…” Yan’s father began carefully, “Now that Yan Xi has this illness, when emotionally agitated, I fear he might hurt A-Heng, I think…”

A-Heng’s voice rose: “He won’t! Yan Xi never hurts anyone!”

Yan’s father was at a loss for words, gently stroking Yan Xi’s head.

Yan Xi uncomfortable, pushed the hand away and hid further behind A-Heng, revealing his large eyes, looking unfamiliar yet obedient.

Constrained by the Wen family’s presence, Yan’s father could only make some polite conversation before leaving.

But Elder Wen called A-Heng into his study.

A-Heng instructed Yan Xi to sit on the sofa and play with his puzzle rings.

The old man’s expression was unpleasant: “A-Heng, I know you and Yan Xi are close, and I understand your feelings. But we are outsiders, it’s not appropriate to interfere in others’ family matters, understand?”

A-Heng lowered her eyes: “Grandfather, can’t I take care of Yan Xi, keep him from going to a mental hospital?”

Elder Wen grew angry, scolding: “Nonsense! With his condition like this, and you still need to attend school, how much energy can you have to care for him? My granddaughter has a bright future ahead, how can it be ruined by others? Moreover, the way he’s turned out, and now with this madness, nearly taking his birth mother’s life when he was born – he was born to collect debts from the Yan family! Our Wen family, from past to present, has never wronged their family. Although they’ve shown us kindness, over these years, we’ve repaid enough. Their family’s debts, how can our family have the ability to repay!”

For the first time, before her, grandfather spoke so clearly and left no room for negotiation.

Beautiful, unfortunate, bringing misfortune to parents – had Yan Xi already… become unforgivable?

A-Heng couldn’t laugh, couldn’t cry, stood there with everything before her turning grey.

She walked out and saw Yan Xi standing at the door, the puzzle rings falling to the ground.

A-Heng bent to pick up the rings, and tears suddenly fell.

Looking at the red canvas shoes on the young man’s feet, she picked up the rings with great difficulty, stood up, and smiled sweetly as she handed them to Yan Xi: “Why are you standing here?”

He said nothing, gripping the rings again, his fingers crystalline and almost transparent, gently touching A-Heng’s eye socket, softly saying: “Water.”

A-Heng took his hand, looking into his eyes, clean and innocent, seemingly emotionless yet with a hint of confusion.

She smiled: “So silly, these are tears, not water.”

He copied her manner, enduring while smiling, perfectly mimicking.

She sighed: “Yan Xi, do you want to learn to cry like me? Silly, your eyes will hurt.”

Besides, how could you mimic anything when you don’t understand?

Those are tears, flowing for you.

If you don’t cry for anyone, how could you shed tears?

He looked at her, continuing to smile, mimicking that expression, an unbearably ugly expression, wanting to cry yet still enduring, slowly, tears began to fall, surging and sorrowful.

She was surprised but still smiled, indulgent and gentle: “So alike.”

He smiled too, addicted to mimicking her.

She only knew that patients with hysteria had strong mimicking abilities.

But didn’t know that patients with hysteria sometimes become lucid.

Yan’s father only said he was taking leave, seemingly having no plans to stay home long.

A-Heng spoke with Yan’s father, her tone almost falling to dust, saying: “Yan Xi won’t hurt me or others. Uncle Yan, believe me, even if you take him back to America, please don’t send him to the hospital. His condition isn’t that severe, that place is… not suitable for Yan Xi to live.”

Her tone was earnest, but he remained silent.

There was a cactus at home, placed by the window, growing very lush, usually tended by A-Heng.

Yan Xi stood before the cactus, head lowered, fiddling with his puzzle rings.

Suddenly, he started screaming, appearing extremely agitated.

A-Heng and Yan’s father walked over, but Yan Xi uprooted the entire cactus. The cactus, with its dense, hard spines, instantly pierced his flesh, blood covering his hands. He grabbed the cactus, looked at A-Heng, his face full of grief and determination, and threw it at her.

A-Heng looked at him, dumbfounded, forgetting to dodge as the cactus ball scraped past her pant leg.

She had said our Yan Xi is a good child, and won’t hurt anyone, especially not me.

She had said, Uncle Yan, believe me, don’t send Yan Xi to the hospital.

So he broke her oath.

“In life and death, distance and nearness, I make this promise with you; holding your hand, I will grow old with you.” Although these words sound beautiful, they’re truly a great tragedy.

Especially when only one person dreams of forever.