Bai Yutong felt strange and puzzled. Bei Yao asked her: “May I come in to see Pei Chuan?”

The girl’s voice was sweet and clear. Because it carried a nasal tone, it had a few extra touches of unique softness. Bai Yutong secretly resented, thinking—who knew if that stepbrother was dead or not? What if he got infected and turned into a mad dog too, biting whoever he caught?

She and her mother didn’t dare go look. Bei Yao’s arrival was just right.

Bai Yutong moved aside to let Bei Yao in.

Mother and daughter Cao Li exchanged glances, both staying silent. They watched Bei Yao walk to that tightly closed bedroom door.

The girl curved her knuckles: “Pei Chuan, are you alright?”

Pei Chuan, whose gaze was somewhat vacant, sat up from the bed: “What are you doing here?”

Bei Yao suppressed her sobbing tone: “I saw you were injured. Shall we go to the hospital to take a look?”

Pei Chuan said in a low voice: “You should go. I’m fine.”

Bei Yao’s heart was worried and sad—there was no way she could leave. Pei Chuan knew she was still outside. Cao Li and her daughter were definitely there too.

Pei Chuan looked at the ruined prosthetic leg in the corner of the wall and closed his eyes. Because the injury was right at his calf, when those people saw his torn pant leg, their first glance was actually to look at his distinctive prosthetic leg, not the gruesome wound.

This room was like a prison cage. Having lost a prosthetic leg, he couldn’t even walk out on his own.

“Pei Chuan.” Bei Yao’s voice was soft. She leaned against the door. Yet she couldn’t say anything more.

Actually, Pei Chuan didn’t need her pity.

He and Bei Yao had been separated for a year, living and working like a normal person. He had learned to play ball, play cards, and persistently practice boxing. How much he hoped that when he first saw Bei Yao, he would be in a normal, healthy state.

He longed to become a normal, strong man, not like when he was small—a cripple who relied on sympathy to get close to her.

But once the prosthetic leg broke, he found even climbing up from the ground so laborious.

Pei Chuan knew that if he continued waiting, the outcome would definitely be Pei Haobin coming back to take him for an examination.

He didn’t want such an ending. All these years, even his biological father had never looked at his residual limb again.

Pei Chuan took out his phone: “Wang Zhan, the prosthetic leg broke. Come pick me up.”

Pei Chuan wasn’t someone who sat waiting for doom. After a while, he moved to the bedside and pulled over the wheelchair he hadn’t used in a long time.

This was the wheelchair the Pei family bought him when he was fourteen or fifteen. It was far inferior to the wheelchair he had later when living alone in his apartment. However, relying on his arm strength, he easily sat in it.

In autumn, his quilt was still thin. Pei Chuan pulled it down to cover his legs.

He propelled the wheelchair, put the prosthetic leg from the corner into a storage box, and locked it in the cabinet.

After doing all this, only his hands were stained with the wild dog’s blood.

Pei Chuan lowered his eyes and opened the kettle in his room.

The water was very hot—boiling water that Cao Li had heated to show “concern.” But Pei Chuan didn’t wait for it to cool. Bei Yao had stood outside his room for too long. He poured it into a cup. Water flowed down his fingers. His fingers trembled slightly. Without a word, he washed his hands clean.

He tidied up these things, then opened the door.

Bei Yao hadn’t expected this door in front of her to suddenly open. Her eyes still carried silent tears, like dewdrops on tree branches in the early morning.

The youth’s lips were slightly pale. He glanced at Bei Yao: “You should go home. I’m fine.”

Used to it, wasn’t he?

Cao Li was surprised Pei Chuan would come out, but she didn’t know what to say either. Bai Yutong’s reaction was much more direct. She had always known her stepbrother didn’t have both legs, but every time she saw him before, he wore his prosthetic legs and was no different from a normal person.

This was the first time she saw Pei Chuan sitting in a wheelchair, clearly recognizing that he was a cripple.

However, this cripple was particularly difficult to deal with. She still remembered the miserable appearance of that dog with its brain matter splattered, so much so that she didn’t dare speak sarcastically to Pei Chuan.

Before long, the doorbell rang. This time Pei Chuan didn’t look at anyone. He propelled his wheelchair over to open the door.

In the wheelchair, his fingers were slender and strong, yet his palms concealed redness and swelling no one could see.

Outside the door was Wang Zhan.

Wang Zhan wore a white coat, panting heavily. He had practically driven over and then run all the way into the neighborhood.

“Pei Chuan?”

Pei Chuan nodded. Wang Zhan understood and pushed him away.

Mother and daughter Cao Li never spoke. When he came, he brought silence to the household. When he left, the air remained quiet. Like a passerby in this home.

Pei Haobin, who was out on duty, hadn’t had time to return. Pei Chuan was no longer the childhood self who couldn’t do anything. He had the ability to arrange his own retreat, straightening his spine to leave the neighborhood.

Bei Yao wiped her tears and wordlessly followed behind them.

Wang Zhan looked back in surprise. As for Pei Chuan’s private affairs, this doctor didn’t interfere. This little girl was strikingly beautiful, making her hard to ignore. However, his client, Pei Chuan, who always had a terrible temper, didn’t chase her away. Doctor Wang could only pretend not to see.

Getting Pei Chuan’s wheelchair down the stairs was extremely difficult.

Moreover, Pei Chuan’s build wasn’t frail. Wang Zhan was a scholar—taking him and his wheelchair down was very arduous.

Their old neighborhood didn’t have an elevator installed. When they reached the second floor, Wang Zhan really had no strength left. His hand shook, and the wheelchair rolled downward. Wang Zhan’s heart jumped in fright, but he saw Pei Chuan grab the railing with one hand, stabilizing himself and the wheelchair.

However, Pei Chuan’s expression wasn’t relieved. Because of this movement, the quilt covering his legs slid down.

His other hand only had time to grab the corner of the quilt. Almost in an instant, he chose to let go of the hand gripping the railing, preferring to fall rather than lift this cloth and expose the empty pant leg.

The scent of lilacs wafted over. A pair of slender small hands grabbed the quilt and pulled it up, properly covering his legs.

He lowered his eyes, meeting the girl’s pair of red almond eyes.

She pressed her lips together, trying hard to help Doctor Wang straighten the wheelchair. Pei Chuan gripped her slender wrist, moving her hand away from his wheelchair. Wang Zhan sighed softly and resignedly mustered all his strength to help this gentleman downstairs.

~

September evening, night quietly descended.

Wang Zhan and the person who assisted with installing prosthetic legs fixed Pei Chuan’s new prosthetic leg. These past two years, Pei Chuan had been growing. When the residual limb’s measurements became unsuitable, they would be changed. As Pei Chuan’s attending physician, Wang Zhan was very clear about his situation.

The group worked busily until eight-thirty in the evening. The city’s neon lights had already lit up.

After Pei Chuan’s prosthetic leg was installed, Wang Zhan breathed a sigh of relief. However, Doctor Wang couldn’t help lecturing: “What did you do? How could the prosthetic leg break?”

Pei Chuan’s prosthetic leg was biomimetic and waterproof—currently at a relatively high level domestically. For it to break to the point of being unable to walk—how terrible must it have been?

“Killed a wild dog.”

Wang Zhan was dumbfounded, thinking he was joking: “What—what?” He quickly said, “Let me examine your body.”

Pei Chuan brushed away his hand: “Wasn’t bitten anywhere else.”

Pei Chuan also found it laughable—the prosthetic leg had actually saved his life.

He got off the hospital bed. Wang Zhan said: “She’s still waiting outside.”

Who knew what this bastard boy’s intentions were, actually letting that little girl follow all the way here.

Pei Chuan gave a low “Mm.” He knew.

He pushed open the door. The autumn night was somewhat cool. The city’s lights lit up one after another. Bei Yao sat properly on the hospital’s blue companion bench. As soon as she saw him come out, her big eyes nervously stared at him.

He walked over and asked her: “Are you cold?”

Bei Yao shook her head. She was afraid to ask about that result, yet still asked with a trembling voice: “Are you alright?”

Pei Chuan said: “I’m fine.”

She opened her mouth. The things that happened today had almost completely overturned her understanding from all these years. The coldness and warmth of human relationships—Pei Chuan had long seen through it all. Only she lived purely and happily, hoping he would be a good person.

But when everyone treated him this way, what reason did he have to be a good person?

The children’s parents all panicked looking at their own treasures. Even Zhao Zhilan was nearly frightened unconscious by her biological son Bei Jun.

Bei Yao felt extremely sad. She felt ashamed.

When looking at the world as a child, everything seemed infinitely beautiful. But some things forced young boys and girls to grow up.

It was already quite late. Bei Yao had told Bei Licai before going out. However, the bus home from the city hospital wasn’t so easy to catch. Pei Chuan hadn’t driven his own car. He also didn’t suggest having Wang Zhan drive them.

He walked forward with Bei Yao.

The night wind was gentle. The youth’s hands were in his pockets. Pei Chuan always spoke little. If no one talked to him, he could stay quietly by himself all day.

The moon came out, hanging high in the sky.

Bei Yao slowly followed his pace, the redness at the corners of her eyes still not faded. The more she thought, the sadder she felt. If Pei Chuan hadn’t come back on his own, would she have already lost him in the passage of time?

Some things had nothing to do with innocent love.

She looked left and right, seeing an old person selling helium balloons. Bei Yao said: “Pei Chuan, wait for me.”

Pei Chuan stopped. He watched her jog over, gesturing to that old person, pointing at the balloons above. The old person gave her a dragonfly balloon.

Holding it, she jogged back.

Countless children looked at her and her balloon. She spoke with a nasal tone, with a softness unique to girls: “Pei Chuan, extend your hand.”

His fist clenched. He extended his left hand from his pocket, not letting her see the redness and swelling on his palm that hadn’t yet faded.

Bei Yao tied the balloon to his wrist. She made a knot. That pitiful balloon floated back and forth between them, looking extremely comical.

Yet Pei Chuan didn’t untie it.

The inflated dragonfly flew lightly in the air, like an inadvertent touch from her fingertips.

His self-respect couldn’t suppress his longing, so she was here now.

Pei Chuan asked in a low voice: “What are you doing?”

Bei Yao said: “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. When you left home a year ago, were you very sad?”

He looked at her quietly.

The girl uneasily showed a smile. Dewdrops fell from branches—extremely beautiful in the moonlight, quietly waiting for his answer.

In that instant, he shed the wildness and extravagance of the past year, actually tasting some sourness too.

He said: “No.”

His nature was inherently bad—where would the sadness come from? He just wanted to leave so he left.

She said: “When I was little, I almost got lost once. My mother tied a helium balloon to my hand. She said this way she could see me at a glance and find me. Pei Chuan, I’m sorry I couldn’t find you. Please forgive me.”

His gaze fell on her.

The autumn night was somewhat cold. She wore a beige medium-length sleeve, shivering slightly from the cool breeze. But her smile brightened. She extended a tender white little hand: “Hit me once. Will you forgive me?”

Just like when they were small—when he was extremely angry at her for always crossing boundaries, she would timidly ask: hit me once, will you forgive me?

At the head of the long street.

The sound of wind entered his ears. His heart suddenly softened completely.

What fault did she have? All along, it was he who treated her badly, so even his liking her felt surprising to her. He came back even just for emotion and selfish desire.

She hadn’t changed. He had become worse.

He wanted even more to hold this hand. Originally having her follow along, he should have held it. But in the end, he didn’t.

He thought desperately—he was done for. He actually liked her even more.

So he said: “Let’s go home.”

Countless schemes and tricks were useless, unable to withstand her genuine smile right before his eyes. It turned out someone had never thought of abandoning him.

The last bus home arrived as promised. The vehicle swayed and rocked.

For the first time, Bei Yao slept so peacefully.

Pei Chuan sat beside her. The window was open a small crack. Along this road, the streetlights were dim. Tree shadows couldn’t hide the moonlight. Outside was only an old record store playing even older songs. He listened attentively—it was Hacken Lee’s “Moonlight Serenade.” He turned his head to look at her. Her long lashes lowered, sleeping without any defenses—

…

But my heart every minute every moment is still occupied by her

She’s like this moon still not opening her mouth

The violin solo plays the half-leaning moon in deep autumn

My longing my desire until later

Still leaning on sleepless nights looking at the stars in the sky

Still hearing the violin sobbing and teasing again

Why is only a crescent moon left in my sky

After this night all news is cut off

People are like the bright moon in the sky, impossible to possess

His heart felt sour, sorrowful, yet also fortunate he hadn’t had time to truly hurt her.