Xu Sui took the high-speed train for half a day, then transferred to another train before finally reaching Liying Town. By the time she got home, the sky had already darkened. The lanterns at the front door cast a warm, orange glow, and the sound of family sitcoms on TV leaked through the window cracks at double volume.
While dragging her luggage through the door, Xu Sui shouted loudly into the house: “Mom! Grandma! I’m home!”
The next second, Grandma came out wearing reading glasses and hunched over, opening with a smile: “Yiyi is back! Come let Grandma take a look at you.”
Xu Sui set down her luggage and threw herself into the old woman’s arms, deeply inhaling Grandma’s unique scent—a faint woody fragrance that smelled wonderful.
“Grandma, you smell so good. Tonight I want to sleep with you,” Xu Sui said coquettishly.
“Good, good,” Grandma laughed, pulling her away to look her granddaughter up and down, frowning. “How did you get so thin?”
“You just haven’t seen me in too long. I’ve been eating plenty at school—gained two pounds actually,” Xu Sui told a little white lie.
To avoid making the old woman suspicious, Xu Sui quickly changed the subject: “Hey, it’s already 6 o’clock. Where’s Mom?”
“Probably stayed at school to grade papers. She should be back in half an hour.”
Xu Sui’s mother had known in advance that Xu Sui would return home, so after work she specifically went to the market to buy flour and chives, planning to make her daughter’s favorite dumplings.
When she got home, Mother Xu washed her hands and immediately got busy in the kitchen. Before long, Xu Sui came in to help too. Xu Sui washed her hands clean and picked up a dumpling wrapper, but Mother Xu shooed her away: “Go keep your grandmother company watching TV.”
“It’s fine, this little bit of work won’t tire me out,” Xu Sui began filling the dumplings.
Mother Xu had a gentle appearance, wearing plain clothes as she stood under the lights with a faint smile always playing at the corners of her mouth. After a while, she asked: “How are your studies going?”
“Pretty good. I won two awards this semester,” Xu Sui replied.
Mother Xu knew that when her daughter said “pretty good,” it meant quite excellent indeed. She showed a gratified smile: “You’ve never given Mom much to worry about since you were little.”
Xu Sui lowered her head to make dumplings and smiled faintly without saying anything.
“Are the friends you’ve made at school all good? You haven’t associated with any bad people, have you?” Mother Xu maintained her smile while her tone carried a probing quality.
A cynical and dissolute face appeared in Xu Sui’s mind. Her heart skipped a beat as she shook her head: “No.”
The days back home were pleasant and comfortable. Zhou Jingze occasionally sent one or two photos of 1017 sleeping sprawled on the sofa. Xu Sui’s heart would leap with joy, and she’d use this opportunity to ask a few more questions about the chubby orange cat.
Actually, she just wanted to chat with him a bit more.
Before New Year’s, Xu Sui was helping with spring cleaning at home, moving plants into the sunlight, when she received a message from Zhou Jingze: [1017 is sick, allergic all over his body, and scratched himself up.]
Right after, Zhou Jingze sent a photo of 1017. When Xu Sui opened it, the image was shocking—the cat’s ears were covered in bloody red wounds, with half-dried blood clinging to his fur.
Panic showed in Xu Sui’s eyes. She looked it up online and sent several messages in succession:
[How long has he been like this?]
[Please try to watch him as much as possible. I’m afraid he’ll scratch himself all over again.]
[Did you take him to a vet hospital? Should I come over now? No wait, what am I saying…]
Two minutes later, Zhou Jingze sent back one sentence:
[Don’t panic.]
Though it was just two simple words, Xu Sui’s heart inexplicably calmed down. She couldn’t focus on anything else now, so she moved a small stool and sat in the sunshine, waiting for Zhou Jingze to reply.
She was staring at her phone when the screen suddenly popped up “The other party invites you to share location.” Her eyelids jumped heavily before she realized Zhou Jingze had turned on location sharing to keep her from worrying.
Xu Sui clicked “Accept” and watched his profile picture move on the map, a strange feeling welling up in her heart.
ZJZ: [Noticed it this morning. Taking him to the hospital now.]
Xu Sui: [Okay.]
Throughout the day, Zhou Jingze would send a message at every time point. Though his words were brief and his tone cool, they were reassuring.
11:00am [Got in the car.]
11:40am [Arrived] Zhou Jingze also attached a photo of the pet hospital entrance.
11:55am [Full body cleaning.]
12:20pm [Getting IV fluids.] Zhou Jingze recorded a video of 1017 lying on the hospital bed with eyes closed, getting an IV. From the footage, the cat’s previously frantic and furious emotions had calmed down.
Watching the video, Xu Sui suddenly saw 1017 place his chubby paw on Zhou Jingze’s wrist. Zhou Jingze wasn’t in the frame, but she could still recognize those hands—slender and clean, with pale azure veins that radiated restraint.
Then the camera shook and returned to the cat.
1:30pm [IV finished. Doctor says three consecutive days of IVs and he’ll be fine.]
Xu Sui typed in the chat box: [Thank you. Have you eaten yet? Should I order takeout for you?]
After thinking it over, Xu Sui lowered her eyes and deleted what she’d typed, editing a new message: [Thank you. It seems to be mealtime. Have you eaten yet? Go eat quickly.]
[Mm.] Zhou Jingze replied half an hour later.
Under Zhou Jingze’s care, 1017 gradually recovered. However, Zhou Jingze seemed busy for a period before New Year’s and hadn’t contacted Xu Sui much.
Xu Sui was worried about 1017 and wanted to see him with her own eyes. After hesitating all evening, she checked the time—9:30, still early—and sent Zhou Jingze a message:
[How is 1017 now? Could I see him?]
After sending the message into the void, Xu Sui looked at it for a while before putting her phone on the desk. The desk lamp lit up as she sat at the head of her bed reading a mystery novel.
At 10:30, the phone on the desk rang. Xu Sui grabbed it and saw it was a video call from Zhou Jingze. Her fingertips holding the phone trembled slightly as she stared unblinkingly at the video request, her heart racing with panic.
Xu Sui answered the call. The camera opened to two lean collarbones, like two hyphens, with his chest exposed, revealing glimpses of the man’s firm muscle lines extending infinitely downward…
Her cheeks flushed with heat. Just as she wanted another look, the camera shook and 1017 appeared with wide eyes in a secretive observational pose. Zhou Jingze’s voice came from off-camera—he seemed to have turned over, his voice carrying tired hoarseness:
“There, take a look. I’m going back to sleep.”
Zhou Jingze’s sheets were gray, and 1017 rolled around on his bed with belly up, sometimes disappearing from frame, sometimes reappearing.
He had placed his phone to the side. Xu Sui could actually still see him from the corners of the screen. Zhou Jingze wore a silver bathrobe, his black hair slightly tousled, his lowered lashes dense and long, along with the man’s sharp, clean jawline.
Only when Zhou Jingze was asleep did Xu Sui dare to look at him so boldly. When awake, Zhou Jingze always had that roguish appearance—dangerous, aggressive, mocking—all concentrated in his eyes.
Xu Sui was propping her chin and staring at Zhou Jingze in a daze when suddenly Zhou Jingze laughed very softly, as if talking in his sleep, his tone carrying unprecedented gentle yearning:
“I miss you too.”
Her brow jumped heavily, and she clearly realized this absolutely couldn’t be something Zhou Jingze was saying to her. Afraid of hearing any more words, she hung up the video call with a “snap.”
After hanging up, Xu Sui’s eyes felt dry. She lowered her gaze and hurried to the bathroom to wash up.
The next day, Zhou Jingze woke with a splitting headache. Once vacation started, there were more and more social gatherings. Zhou Jingze had spent too much time in places of wine and debauchery and was getting tired of it all.
Last night people had forced too much alcohol on him. He hastily made an excuse and went home to sleep, but his sleep was fitful, and he even dreamed of his mother. But in his memory, he seemed to have video-called Xu Sui to show her the cat.
Zhou Jingze pressed his brow bone and grabbed his phone to check—he’d actually video-called Xu Sui for half an hour?
He sent a message: [Did I say anything last night?]
When Xu Sui received this message, she really wanted to reply: Yes, who is that person you miss? Which girl? But she was afraid that when Zhou Jingze actually confirmed it himself, she wouldn’t be able to bear it.
In the end, she didn’t reply at all.
On New Year’s Eve, the weather was particularly cold. Xu Sui spent the New Year with a large extended family. The children’s cheerful laughter made the dinner table atmosphere especially lively.
After dinner, Xu Sui sat on the sofa with Grandma to keep her company watching the Spring Festival Gala, but was pulled downstairs by several children to set off fireworks. Xu Sui helped them light two firecrackers before her cheeks turned red from the cold and she ran back upstairs.
Xu Sui returned wrapped in cold air. Grandma watched TV for a bit then went to play cards. Auntie and Mom were playing cards in the side room.
Xu Sui took out her phone and logged into WeChat, receiving New Year’s wishes from several friends, which she thanked one by one. Xu Sui scrolled down with her thumb, stopping at the profile marked “ZJZ.” She clicked in and typed “Happy New Year.”
Then exited.
Xu Sui copied a template greeting she’d received from someone else and pasted it into the chat box, inserting her private feelings into what looked like a mass-sent blessing:
[Although New Year’s wishes have already filled your phone, although these four words aren’t enough to express my excitement, although such plain words are commonplace, I still can’t help but send my blessings. Happy New Year, may you see the sunset every day. ^-^]
Actually, her real blessing was:
—Happy New Year, may you see Sunset Boulevard every day.
Before long, ZJZ replied: [? Xu Sui, this language is so plain it’s like your first time surfing the internet.]
Xu Sui: [This is called rhetoric.]
Sitting in the well-heated living room typing, Xu Sui remembered Hu Qianxi saying Zhou Jingze had a strained relationship with his family. Wanting to show concern for where he was spending New Year’s, she asked:
[Where are you now? Did you have New Year’s Eve dinner?]
ZJZ: [I did, at Grandfather’s house.]
Then he sent another message: [Suddenly want to see fireworks, but it’s so quiet here.]
When Xu Sui saw this message, children downstairs were playing happily in the courtyard, their laughter drifting up from time to time. A flash of inspiration hit her—instinct running ahead of reason.
For the person she liked, she could do anything.
Xu Sui quickly ran downstairs and, facing the cold wind, sent Zhou Jingze a video call request. The call connected quickly. Liying’s sky was beautiful, dotted with stars overhead.
The yellow leaves of the locust tree in the courtyard hung like crescents, and the southern winter wind was damp, cold, and bone-piercing. Fireworks peeked over the wall as Xu Sui stood in place shivering slightly, pointing her phone toward the sky, her voice soft and warm: “Happy New Year.”
Zhou Jingze had originally been holding a can of ice-cold beer, lazily leaning against the railing in the cold wind, when suddenly brilliant clusters of fireworks bloomed before his eyes, accompanied by children’s laughter.
Xu Sui appeared in the frame wearing a red velvet coat, her lips red and teeth white, nose tip reddened from cold, hair flowing over her shoulders. Fireworks bloomed in the sky, transforming into shooting stars with long tails that disappeared into her glass-bead-like eyes.
Zhou Jingze slowly straightened his body and spoke slowly: “Worth it.”