In mid-June, the summer breeze was gentle. Zhao Zhilan pushed open the hospital door, opening the thermos with food inside. Her heart felt somewhat sour: “Pei Chuan, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? Mom made soup. Come try some.”

Pei Chuan walked over. His finger had just been reattached, so now he could only eat with his left hand.

Since last night, many people had come one after another to see him. Pei Haobin had come, telling him all the hostages had been rescued. Cao Li was too embarrassed to come in. Pei Chuan had also seen Jiang Wenjuan and that doctor, even colleagues from the research institute—all had come to visit him.

Last night Pei Chuan had his finger reattached. Today Zhao Zhilan had made food and brought it over.

Pei Chuan looked down as he drank the soup. Outside the window, greenery flourished with life, yet he couldn’t taste any flavor.

So many people had come, yet Bei Yao hadn’t appeared at all.

The matter of rebirth—now only the two of them knew.

The deepest buried secret laid bare. Was she tacitly choosing not to want him anymore? He couldn’t drink anymore, yet didn’t dare ask Zhao Zhilan where Yaoyao was.

Zhao Zhilan turned her face away, wiping tears from her eyes: “Not to your taste? Is there anything else you want to eat? Mom will make it for you.”

Pei Chuan shook his head: “Mom, go home and rest. I’m fine. I can be discharged in a couple days.”

Zhao Zhilan put away the thermos: “Then I’ll come see you again this evening. If you need anything brought, call me.”

“Nothing needed.” Pei Chuan said, “Be careful on the road.”

“Ah, your father cleaned the house. We can move back home now.” Zhao Zhilan never looked at his eyes, leaving in a hurry too.

When she reached the door, Pei Chuan stood up: “Mom!”

Zhao Zhilan: “What is it?”

That paper had already been destroyed by him. Pei Chuan paused: “Nothing.”

Zhao Zhilan pushed the door and walked out.

Jin Ziyang, Zheng Hang, and Ji Wei were now sitting outside.

Ji Wei was reading a book in the corridor. He’d just finished this year’s college entrance exam—who knew how his results would be.

Seeing Zhao Zhilan leave, all three greeted her: “Auntie.”

Zhao Zhilan nodded, her eyes reddening as she quickened her pace and left.

Zheng Hang frowned. Jin Ziyang’s reaction was more direct: “Don’t you think Bei Yao is too heartless? Brother Chuan is injured like this, and she hasn’t even come to look once. This is her husband! And Brother Chuan treasures her like his heart and liver.”

Ji Wei said quietly: “Lower your voice. If Brother Chuan hears, it won’t be good. He’ll feel bad.” He speculated: “Maybe they had a fight.”

Jin Ziyang laughed bitterly: “A fight? With something as serious as yesterday, even if they fought, she should still come see him. Brother Chuan is still recovering. You didn’t see how he looked yesterday—his hands covered in blood.”

Ji Wei closed his mouth awkwardly.

Zheng Hang was first to walk in.

Zheng Hang leaned by the door. Seeing Pei Chuan in the hospital room staring at the phone by the bed, he spoke: “Brother Chuan, did you and sister-in-law have a disagreement?”

Pei Chuan paused, looking up: “No such thing. You don’t need to stay here all the time. Go back. I can be discharged soon—just a few days of observation.”

Zheng Hang took a breath: “Then why hasn’t she come?”

Pei Chuan said: “Minor injury. No need for that.”

Zheng Hang was about to say more when Pei Chuan interrupted: “I want to rest a bit.”

The several of them could only leave.

Waiting until evening, there was a light knock on the door. Pei Chuan sat up at once and walked over to open it.

Zhao Zhilan’s face appeared outside the door, along with Bei Jun whom she was holding by the hand. Pei Chuan’s gaze imperceptibly dimmed.

Zhao Zhilan said: “I saw you didn’t drink much soup at lunch. I made something light for tonight.”

After Pei Chuan finished eating—the summer air outside was scorching—Zhao Zhilan had broken out in a sweat from running back and forth.

Bei Jun looked at Pei Chuan and pouted. His gaze fell on Pei Chuan’s bandaged right thumb, then he hid behind Zhao Zhilan.

Pei Chuan also glanced at him.

This tiger-headed boy had never called him brother-in-law even once.

Zhao Zhilan went to wash her hands: “I’ll stay at the hospital tonight. Call me if you need anything.”

Before she pushed the door out, Pei Chuan said hoarsely: “Mom, where’s Yaoyao?”

Zhao Zhilan’s steps halted. She turned back and suddenly said: “Pei Chuan, love is very difficult. Most of the time, marriage is like me and your Uncle Bei. No excessive passion in youth—later it slowly becomes familial affection. I used to oppose you and Yaoyao. After this incident, I’ve come to terms with it. You’ve done so much for her, but my daughter…”

As Zhao Zhilan spoke, her eyes reddened, her voice choking: “She’s also a silly girl.”

Bei Jun glared at Pei Chuan indignantly.

Pei Chuan frowned. His heartbeat suddenly accelerated: “What happened to Yaoyao?”

“She’s in a hospital room on the second floor. Come with me to see her.”

Pei Chuan rose abruptly.

*

To this day, Pei Haobin couldn’t forget the scene when they opened that room on the third floor. Bei Yao was handcuffed to the bedside, blood around her staining the sheets red. Her cheeks were buried in her knees, her body curled in pain.

Pei Jiadong was terrified. Shao Yue’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

Bei Yao was quiet, already unconscious.

All the police were shocked at the wound on her abdomen, hurriedly sending her to the hospital.

Before Huo Xu took the knife to find Pei Chuan, Bei Yao had knocked him aside.

Huo Xu’s knife had plunged into her abdomen. So much blood had flowed then.

Huo Xu’s eyes filled with disbelief. He’d instinctively pulled out the knife and thrown it away, his face spasming. He’d pulled Bei Yao from the ground and locked her to the bedside.

This had almost become the final straw breaking his spirit.

He’d deceived himself, acting as if nothing happened, changing to another knife, touching her face: “After I deal with him, I’ll take you abroad. It’s fine. We’ll cultivate feelings properly later.”

Actually, he already knew he would never obtain her love again.

Huo Xu closed that door.

Bei Yao’s breathing gradually weakened. She struggled to turn her head to look at Pei Jiadong. Pei Jiadong was five years old this year—about the same age as her Pei Chuan back then.

Only Pei Jiadong had cried himself into a tearful mess, whereas Pei Chuan never cried.

Or perhaps all the tears of his lifetime had been shed dry in that one year of childhood.

She hoped there would never be another child with a fate like Pei Chuan’s, and feared Pei Chuan experiencing such things a second time.

Bei Yao laboriously raised her eyes, looking at the pitch-black surveillance screen.

She still wanted to tell him—those choices were all very absurd.

Her Pei Chuan was one of a kind, unparalleled under heaven.

Blood stained the sheets red. Bei Yao slowly closed her eyes.

*

Summer night wind blew the curtains. She lay on the bed, lips pale, long lashes closed.

Zhao Zhilan wiped away tears: “The year you were in prison, she sat outside the police station all night, insisting on seeing you once. Later that year when she went to university, she didn’t mention it but kept looking for you. We didn’t know why she studied medicine. Later when I was organizing her room, I saw books on leg massage.”

“One year in her childhood, she saved half a year’s allowance. She thought we didn’t know, but eventually bought you a model car.”

“When your parents divorced, Yaoyao was in her first year of high school. She only got one day off a month. Every time off, she’d run everywhere, walking through every school. When she had no money for the bus, she’d walk. I asked if she was looking for you. She said no. But she got along with everyone except your stepsister Bai Yutong. I knew—she resented that Cao Li and the others’ existence had driven you away.”

“Pei Chuan, my daughter isn’t that smart. As a child, to get good grades, she’d recite and do problems over and over until late at night. She’s not brave either—afraid of injections and IVs. When she has worries, she doesn’t speak of them, silently finding solutions alone, afraid of worrying others. The bravest thing she’s done in this life was probably pursuing you.”

For many, many years, she kept trying to walk toward you.

She’s not like you, with a brave, resilient body. She only has tiny yet tenacious strength. Sometimes such fragile strength can’t change anything, but for eighteen years—a full 6,570 days—not one day did she think of giving up on you.

Pei Chuan pushed open the hospital room door and sat beside Bei Yao.

Outside in the summer night were faint cicada sounds.

Her breathing was heavy. Under the oxygen mask, her face had fully matured. Crossing eighteen years, he still remembered the little pink-cheeked girl holding lotus flowers, eyes bright as she looked at him.

He suddenly understood the third choice.

Some people’s love was like magma—scorching and hot. Some people’s love was like a stream—long and gentle.

Pei Chuan had never moved past that day when Pei Haobin abandoned him for anti-drug work. From that day, he seemed to keep being abandoned.

But this June, amid the faint scent of disinfectant in the air, he walked out of childhood’s shadow.

Someone loved him more than life itself.

Pei Chuan’s eyes reddened. He used his defined left hand to grasp her cold hand.

Bei Yao hadn’t woken yet. Her wound was much more severe than his—excessive blood loss. Fortunately, the transfusion was timely. They’d nearly failed to save her.

Zhao Zhilan sighed silently. Originally both in the family were injured. Pei Chuan should also recuperate properly, but her silly daughter wasn’t having it easy either.

Zhao Zhilan said: “Go back and sleep. Yaoyao’s father is watching over her here.”

Pei Chuan said quietly: “I’ll stay with her.”

Zhao Zhilan looked at the young couple, feeling helpless: “Then I’ll have a nurse add a bed.”

*

Bei Yao slept for two full days. On the morning of the third day, she opened her eyes.

Outside the window, birds sang amid fragrant flowers. Sunlight poured across the floor. Her cool hand rested in a warm large palm.

Her abdomen pulled with pain. She turned her head. In her eyes appeared the man’s image too.

His stubble had grown out—somewhat disheveled. Eyes also closed, he looked exhausted. She weakly looked him over once. Her gaze fell on his fingers.

Pei Chuan seemed to sense something and opened his eyes.

Their four eyes met. Bei Yao’s clear eyes reflected his image.

Her voice was very thin, without much strength: “Pei Chuan, are you alright? He’s a madman. Don’t listen to him.”

He looked at her: “I’m fine. Does it hurt?”

Bei Yao tried to smile: “Doesn’t hurt at all.”

His eyes suddenly moistened. Using all his strength, he swallowed the tears back down.

Bei Yao woke. Not only was Zhao Zhilan happy, Jin Ziyang and the others also breathed sighs of relief.

Jin Ziyang and the others felt somewhat embarrassed. Earlier they’d said Bei Yao was heartless and ungrateful. Later they were truly shocked and remorseful.

Jin Ziyang’s heart also felt somewhat sour, and a bit envious: “If my future wife would do this much for me, I’d die for her willingly.”

These two days Bei Yao hadn’t woken. Though Brother Chuan didn’t say it, he was terribly anxious inside.

Every day he asked the doctor many times. Usually such a clean person—he didn’t shave, held Bei Yao’s hand all day, blisters forming around his mouth.

Once she woke, Pei Chuan realized how unkempt he looked. He awkwardly showered, changed clothes, and shaved with his left hand.

Only those blisters remained. Bei Yao’s bright eyes looked at him.

Pei Chuan pressed his lips together, as calmly as possible: “Summer. Internal heat.”

Bei Yao’s almond eyes filled with laughter.

Her abdominal wound was somewhat deep. She’d need to stay hospitalized a while until the wound healed.

Outside the window, a bird hopped onto a branch. Bei Yao saw no one around and beckoned to Pei Chuan.

He walked over, asking quietly: “What is it?”

Bei Yao coughed: “I want to tell you about that paper.” Though it felt strange, afraid he’d have reservations in his heart—she should explain.

Pei Chuan touched her head: “There’s no paper.”

She raised her eyes.

Pei Chuan said quietly and firmly: “There’s no paper. I love you.”

She looked at Pei Chuan in surprise. He smiled: “Mom said love is very difficult, and mutual affection even harder. Love itself is a complex emotion—no one can explain it clearly. I’m grateful you’re you, so I had this chance to be with you.” Whatever reason she’d fallen for him—it didn’t matter.

Bei Yao said quietly: “But there’s still something I want to make clear with you.”

Pei Chuan looked at her.

Bei Yao said gloomily: “I couldn’t remember clearly from age four onward. Aside from that paper, the world made no difference to me.” She blinked. “Because I didn’t remember, as a child I still found your personality really annoying.”

His breathing hitched.

“From childhood, I never felt I should be grateful to you. As deskmates, you drew a dividing line. You wouldn’t let me ride in your dad’s car. Playing with sticks, you were so stingy you wouldn’t leave me even one.” She wanted to count on her fingers how unlikable he’d been before. “Not gentlemanly at all.”

Pei Chuan’s face darkened. That unlikable person was indeed himself. Pei Chuan bit out: “Sorry.”

Outside the window, summer flowers bloomed brilliantly. She suppressed her laughter: “Never thought of being with you because of a piece of paper. What’s a broken piece of paper worth? It can’t dictate my life. That year in high school, you don’t know how handsome you were, and so gentle it was deadly. So later I thought—given how hard he secretly liked me, I should give him a chance.”

He raised his eyes.

Finally, he couldn’t help but smile.

Bei Yao said: “Why are you laughing? I’m telling the truth.”

His eyes filled with laughter: “Laughing at you saying I’m handsome.”

He still couldn’t hold back, his chest trembling slightly: “Little fool with no taste.”