When Li Jinyu scrolled to this Moments post, he had already returned to the hospital room. The words “baby” were particularly eye-catching and made him uncomfortable. Yang Tianwei, not knowing any better, even left a comment below, “I want to be big sister’s baby.”
Ye Meng quickly replied: “Get in line.”
His temples throbbed faintly, and the nerves at the back of his head seemed about to jump out. Each pulse connected to his spinal nerves, causing pain that left him unable to catch his breath. He didn’t dare breathe too deeply and could only gently, very gently, try to calm himself down.
He knew this emotion too well. Li Lingbai had been right about one thing: since childhood, he had an extremely strong possessiveness over his belongings. He wanted to hold everything in his hands, not allowing anyone else to touch them. When he was little, his father asked if he wanted a little brother. Li Siyang happily clapped his hands and said yes, but he remained silent with a cold face. His father asked if he was unwilling. He said yes.
Li Lingbai immediately smashed a bowl, her face ashen. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell his mother to have another son. Because he knew that with another brother, he would completely become the invisible person in this family.
From then on, Li Lingbai despised him even more.
Li Lingbai said she had sensed it early on—from the first time he grabbed his brother’s toys, she knew he wasn’t an ordinary child.
Li Jinyu felt wronged at the time. It was his brother who took his toys first.
He was naturally more intelligent than ordinary children, with exceptional memory, and particularly sensitive to numbers. He could immediately memorize anything after hearing it once. He used to be the family’s human phone book—any phone number that passed through his ears would remain in his mind forever. And in his brain, it seemed like there was a huge storage repository for memories. At least, that’s what he thought as a child. Anyway, he never forgot things.
Because of this, the gap between him and ordinary children became more apparent.
Li Lingbai wasn’t happy about this. She even thought he was like those abnormal prodigies from movies, possibly with a fully sinful adult living inside him. In short, she never saw it as a blessing.
He had once been a spirited youth with dreams of slaying dragons. Now only ruins remained. In his bleak world, everything was desolate. His ideals and passion had been extinguished through repeated cycles. No one can stand alone in the vast sea.
So, he only planned to stay in his sinful underground lair, shed his rebellious nature, and wait for the last small flame in his heart to die out.
The hospital room was dim, curtains tightly drawn. Time moved slowly—he could hear each minute, each second passing.
The old lady was already asleep. Li Jinyu kept watch by the bedside. He leaned against the wall, his hands heavy as if filled with lead, holding his phone, dangling powerlessly between his spread legs. Eyes closed, head tilted back in a lazy posture, he could feel his throbbing heartbeat, coming in waves.
Due to chronic insomnia in recent years, he suffered from sinus arrhythmia—sometimes fast, sometimes slow. People with this condition tend to be emotionally unstable and irritable. Like now, he constantly wanted to smash something to relieve his tension.
He rolled his Adam’s apple, gradually suppressing the violent impulses churning inside him. He lowered his head, raised his phone, deleted Ye Meng’s WeChat, and changed his profile picture back to the original pitch-black one.
Li Jinyu got up and went to the bathroom. He splashed a handful of water on his face. His wet hair roots clung messily to his face, looking sexy yet youthfully fresh, like a clean, untouched young poplar tree.
He was truly a textbook handsome man with cool pale skin. The blue veins on his wrists stood out prominently, much more noticeable than on ordinary people. But no matter how slovenly or well-dressed he was, he looked essentially the same—just a particularly good-looking but lazy young poplar tree.
Water trickled down his clear, cold Adam’s apple, slowly disappearing into his collar, dampening his chest. Finally, Li Jinyu simply pulled off his sweater, standing bare-chested, half-leaning against the sink counter as he lit a cigarette.
He inhaled and exhaled clouds of smoke to relieve his emotions. Yet his heart still felt like an inflating balloon, constantly expanding and stretching his chest cavity. The emotions he had barely managed to suppress in the stairwell earlier now crawled over his heart like dense ivy, squeezing it tight so that every movement brought pain. Then someone took a blade, cutting away those unhealthy parts piece by piece, mercilessly.
It was as if he had been born deformed, destined to be corrected by everyone.
He looked at himself in the mirror with a sneer.
Li Jinyu, what are you struggling for? Your pride and self-respect have already been trampled. What do you have left? Did you believe Ye Meng when she said she would build an empire for you?
What are you hoping for?
Are you hoping Li Lingbai will kneel and beg forgiveness for years of family violence against you?
Or do you hope to return to the WMC (World Memory Championship) arena?
Forget it, you’re past that age, and your memory isn’t what it used to be. Haven’t you noticed? Your memory palace is gone. Besides, excessive mental development leads to premature decline. You won’t be able to rely on your looks to get by in the future.
Back then, he had silently given up the competition, handing that year’s championship to Korea. It wasn’t until three years later that Gou Kai reclaimed it.
In the end, his teacher-student relationship was ruined, and his teammates despised him.
Others thought he couldn’t bear the pressure of public criticism and had dropped out to commit suicide.
He actually didn’t care, but his teacher’s words—”Jinyu, you are both my greatest pride and the student I find hardest to mention to others”—still prevent him from holding his head high.
Li Jinyu finished his cigarette and put on his clothes while walking out of the hospital room bathroom. The old lady was sleeping soundly with no sign of waking. He went over to tuck her blanket when suddenly he heard a “ding ding” sound. The old lady’s phone in the drawer suddenly rang twice in succession.
Li Jinyu stood by the bed, opened the drawer, and made sure the sound hadn’t woken the old lady before glancing at the phone.
The old lady still used a yellow-screen Nokia without internet capabilities, only able to receive text messages and calls. On the screen was a familiar yet strange number. The old lady hadn’t saved it as a contact, but he recognized it immediately as Li Lingbai’s number.
[Mom, can you ask Li Jinyu to come to Beijing?]
[He’s blocked me, and I have an urgent matter that requires his help.]
…
After that, Li Jinyu disappeared for many days. He didn’t go to the hospital, having hired a caregiver to look after the old lady. He also stopped singing at the bar, as if he had vanished into thin air.
On New Year’s Eve, when Ye Meng was attending a classmate reunion in the afternoon, she received a call from an unknown number from Beijing. Since returning from Beijing, she had been constantly receiving what seemed like telemarketing calls trying to sell housing or funds. She dismissed it as nothing important and hung up.
During the gathering, drinks flowed freely, and old classmates enthusiastically toasted each other, putting on airs and teasing one another. Laughter and joy filled the air. Yet Ye Meng became increasingly uneasy. She had a gut feeling that this call was somehow related to Li Jinyu. She sat among her especially excited old classmates with a mind full of doubts, absent-mindedly dealing with their banter while deeply pondering the phone call.
“Does Ye Meng have a boyfriend? Why didn’t you bring him?” someone teased, having seen her Moments posts from a few days ago.
“It means she hasn’t had enough fun yet, right, sis? You’re already in your thirties, time to settle down.” The speaker was a male classmate with a round face and a short, stout build, resembling a walking meatball. Taking advantage of being the youngest in the class, he called everyone “sis” regardless of appropriateness, and his mouth lacked a filter.
Ye Meng had always been allergic to this meatball. When she rejected him back then, her words were a bit harsh. She hadn’t expected him to hold a grudge for so long and to take a jab at her age. She was only twenty-nine this year. Unfazed, she took a sip of her drink, smiled, and leaned back in her chair, doubling down on her poisonous tongue: “Ma Bu, if my boyfriend were someone like you, I’d probably never get enough playtime.”
Ma Bu’s face turned the color of pig liver as if someone had dipped him in soy sauce. Method Yan covered her mouth and laughed, probably thinking along the same lines. She was about to add a jab about how a toad shouldn’t dream of eating swan meat. Unexpectedly, someone suddenly brought up Jiang Luzhi, although she wasn’t present today.
“I heard Jiang Luzhi married a man from Beijing?”
The conversation box was opened, and everyone began to discuss enthusiastically.
“Wasn’t she dating a guy from our town before? What was his name? I can’t remember.”
“Li Jinyu,” someone reminded.
“Right, he sings at that bar. Handsome. My girlfriends and I went specially to see him. I even added his WeChat. Feels like a player.”
“Who cares? With looks like that, it’s worth it even if he just sleeps with you.”
“True, so he’s single now?”
Her girlfriend immediately excitedly encouraged, “Want to send him a message and ask him out?”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” the female classmate’s face immediately flushed red with embarrassment. “My mom wants me to find a civil servant.” Despite her words, her eyes showed eagerness.
Method Yan glanced at Ye Meng, seeing her unconcerned, even pouring herself more wine. After a while, Ye Meng casually joined in: “Civil servants are good.”
The female classmate, activated by some strange nerve, instinctively contradicted Ye Meng: “I’ve been set up with a few civil servants and found them boring. My parents aren’t forcing me to find one; they think what’s most important is that I like the person. I feel life shouldn’t be too stable, or there’s no excitement.”
Ye Meng smiled, “Then go after him.”
The male classmates immediately joined in teasing: “Let’s make a bet on whether our Liu Yiyi can get a date with this guy. That way, even if you get rejected, you won’t lose face. Just say you were playing a game with friends!”
They had already provided her with an excuse. Liu Yiyi was more than willing and agreed readily.
Liu Yiyi pulled up Li Jinyu’s WeChat. The chat box was empty, showing they hadn’t talked since adding each other. Her girlfriend criticized her with a look of disdain: “What’s this? You never even chatted with him before? Too timid.”
Liu Yiyi blushed slightly, trying to think of what to say.
“Going out for a smoke.” Ye Meng stood up with her phone and left.
Method Yan followed closely behind. The two leaned against the smoking area in the corridor, casually inhaling and exhaling smoke. Nearby stood several big-bellied middle-aged men who seemed like local township officials out for business entertainment.
Method Yan ignored them and said to Ye Meng: “Got yourself in trouble, huh? What will you do if Liu Yiyi catches him?”
Ye Meng held a cigarette in one hand and her phone in the other, considering whether to call back that unknown number. Without looking up, she replied, “If she catches him, then she catches him. Am I supposed to hang myself from one tree? Hold on, let me make a call.”
She said this while inconspicuously stepping aside, and dialing the number.
The other end answered quickly. “Hello?”
Ye Meng took a drag from her cigarette and said, “Were you looking for me earlier?”
The person spoke with a Cantonese accent: “Yes, miss, this is the property center. Recently we have a—”
“Thank you, not interested. I’m not in Beijing.”
Ye Meng hung up immediately, exhaling a long breath of disappointment. She would never trust her sixth sense again.
…
In Beijing, New Year’s Eve brought torrential rain. Millions of water columns flowed into rivers. Howling winds caused trees to bend like grotesque demons. Every scene resembled a Picasso painting, abstract and distorted.
A delivery guy hurriedly left Beijing Union Medical College Hospital, anxiously mounted his electric scooter, and darted into the rain curtain. Halfway through his journey, a lightbulb suddenly went off in his head. He smacked his helmet as he realized—that phone call might not have been from his telemarketing list! A man at the hospital had borrowed his phone earlier. Maybe it was his friend?
But now he had an urgent contract to deliver, and there wasn’t enough time to go back.
Forget it, the person would surely find another phone to call from. If this contract was delivered late and the other party closed their accounts in the next two hours, his boss wouldn’t receive the payment before the New Year, and his bonus would be gone.
So the wobbling electric scooter suddenly accelerated, kicking up dust as it disappeared into the mesmerizing urban neon lights.
On the first day of the New Year, Ye Meng finally learned indirectly from Little Gao that Li Jinyu wasn’t in town recently—he had gone to Beijing. Little Gao didn’t say what for, only that he might return around the fifth day of the New Year.
That night at Dai’s place, they had reached a consensus: Ye Meng said she would treat Little Gao like a younger brother. Although Little Gao had feelings for Ye Meng, upon careful consideration, he thought it was more appropriate to remain friends. He didn’t want to be someone’s live-in son-in-law.
That night, Little Gao had been plied with some alcohol and became talkative. Ye Meng learned vaguely from him that Li Jinyu’s grandmother had lung cancer. His previous job as a hand model was to earn money for her medical expenses.
So why had he gone to Beijing? Surely not to be a hand model there?
“He went to donate blood,” the old lady explained casually while peeling a banana in her hospital bed. “His brother was playing with his toy car outside the community gates to pick up a delivery before the New Year. That naughty boy drove the toy car onto the road and got hit by a vehicle. Massive bleeding, life-threatening. Might even need a kidney transplant.”
“Is he his biological brother?” Ye Meng asked.
“No, his mother remarried and had him a few years ago. He’s only five or six now.”
“Is there no blood in the blood bank? Why did they make him go all the way there? They’re not asking Li Jinyu to donate a kidney, are they?”
The old lady snorted, seemingly unwilling to mention his mother: “That shouldn’t happen. He has some rare panda blood type that I don’t understand. Anyway, it’s very rare. Look how pitiful Li Jinyu is—they ignore him normally, but when trouble comes, they immediately think of him.”
On the fifth day of the New Year, the poor little bean returned.
Ye Meng sat in her car, watching Li Jinyu emerge from the crowded train station. Tall and thin, he stood out. He wore a white T-shirt underneath, black casual sports pants with three stripes, and a black and white patchwork jacket. On his feet were the same slim high-tops. He still wore a face mask, inexplicably resembling a college boy on vacation.
“Beep-beep—”
She pressed the horn moderately to alert him, then lowered the window. Li Jinyu had a large black messenger bag strapped to his chest, his hands tucked into his pockets. The only exposed part of his body was a pair of beautiful almond eyes. Across the stream of people, he stared at her for a few seconds.
By now, dusk was falling over the town. The twilight sank like ink, enveloping the entire small city in a reddish glow of blue lamps and yellow scrolls. The street lights hadn’t yet come on. In the faint rosy light, their gazes locked onto each other in the cold, thin air.
His eyes looked so deeply affectionate.
As if he had loved her for a long time. If she didn’t know he was born with such passionate eyes—that he could look at a trash can as if it were his girlfriend—Ye Meng’s blood would have immediately boiled. Her heart would have raised a majestic golden whip with all the loving sentiment of “my heart holds mountains and valleys; for you, I will move mountains and rivers.”
Ye Meng drove him home, then went to park the car. Li Jinyu didn’t wait for her. At the alley entrance to the community, he fed two stray cats, patted their heads, and strode toward the building.
He hadn’t closed the door, though, leaving it ajar. When Ye Meng entered, she saw that he had already taken off his jacket. Wearing a loose white T-shirt, he stood tall in the narrow yard, casually playing with a pop-pop snapper.
The kind that explodes when thrown on the ground.
During the New Year, fireworks and firecrackers weren’t allowed. Children could only play with these to satisfy their urges. She hadn’t expected such a grown man to be so childish.
The “bang bang” explosions became increasingly clear as Ye Meng pushed open the yard’s floor-to-ceiling window and walked over.
In the small yard was a bathtub as tall as a person, containing several small goldfish. Frightened by his explosive snappers, they darted around in confusion. Li Jinyu leaned against the bathtub. Without turning to look at her or throwing any more snappers on the ground, he crouched down to tease the little yellow dog. From the car ride until now, he seemed unwilling to speak a word to her.
“Li Jinyu?” Ye Meng decided to coax him.
“…” The person in question continued crouching, teasing the dog.
“Li Jinyu.”
“Bang!” He said nothing, stood up, leaned against the fish tank, and started throwing snappers again.
“Li Jinyu.”
“Bang!” He threw another one.
Ye Meng’s explosive temper flared up, her patience very limited. She warned angrily: “Fine, I’m leaving. You can keep playing. Better blow up this little broken house. When your grandma gets out of the hospital, get ready for a beating!”
“Ye Meng, do you want to try with me?” A voice suddenly came from behind—low and hoarse.
Li Jinyu didn’t know how to start. Now, he despised himself in his heart. He felt his morals were truly problematic. Knowing about Ye Meng and Nurse Little Gao’s situation, he still had the thick skin to ask.
The moon gradually descended, hiding behind the round mountaintop. By now, the small town was completely dark. The street lights finally came on. Pedestrians strolled along the riverbank, chatting and laughing. Loneliness seemed to elongate the shadow of the man in the small yard, making him appear especially desolate.
He didn’t know if his throat hadn’t fully recovered or if this trip to Beijing and another argument with his mother had worsened it. Very hoarse, his vocal cords seemed like they had been sanded over. He cleared his throat, but it was still no use. He spoke with a hoarse, low voice—
“Do you still want me?”
He leaned casually, simultaneously cursing himself inside while nonchalantly throwing out another line:
“Have you broken up with Little Gao? If not, forget what I said.”
Ye Meng didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, looking at him speechlessly: “You believed what Method Yan said?”
He still leaned against the bathtub. The snappers in his hand were empty now. With nothing left to hold, he could only turn to look at her. In those deep black eyes, there were emotions difficult to control—suppressed, bitter.
From outside the yard’s fence came the loud voices of mahjong players, firecracker sounds, and children calling to their friends. In the lit-up surroundings, dreams and reality seemed to meet in the darkness.
Then, he turned sideways, leaning his back against the fish tank, and pulled her over. The two stood against the fish tank.
Li Jinyu looked down at her and said: “Yes, I’m the most gullible. So, don’t take advantage of me.”