It will be fine from now on

Li Huaizhou was awakened by the warmth on the back of his neck.

It wasn't the cold, hard smell of alcohol and tobacco that always lingered in the bar, but a dry warmth wrapped in body temperature. A hand gently rested on his shoulder and neck, the movement was extremely light. His confused mind hadn't yet figured it out, he just felt that the touch was too familiar, so familiar that he subconsciously wanted to hide. In the past five years, Wen Juzhi's touch always carried a sticky malice, his nails would dig into his flesh, leaving purple marks; but these hands were different, the palms were dry, the fingertips were even a little cold, wrapped in a faint scent, refreshing, able to suppress all the surging nausea.

"Don't..." He groaned vaguely, struggling to push away. As soon as his back left the man's chest, he was gently pulled back. The force was not strong, but it carried an irresistible sense of security. Then, a voice sounded in his ears, low and like soaked in warm water: "Don't move, I just gave you medicine, sleep a little longer."

The sound was like a fine needle, gently piercing Li Huaizhou's chaotic consciousness. He wanted to open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy to lift. He could only feel something cold pressed against his forehead. It was a fever-reducing patch. A cup of warm water was passed to his lips. A slightly bitter pill slid down his throat. The smell was very faint, but he still frowned. The mint smell lingering on his nose became clearer. It was the smell of the laundry detergent that Xie Mo often used.

"Shemo..." He pronounced the name unconsciously, his voice hoarse as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper. The man paused and patted his back gently, as if to comfort a frightened child: "Yeah, I'm here."

Li Huaizhou's heart suddenly clenched. Was it a dream? He thought. Xie Mo had clearly left long ago, and Teacher Zhou had already received his application for withdrawal in the office. How could he be here? He must have been delirious to have such a ridiculous dream. But this embrace was too warm, the mint smell was too real, and even the rhythm of the pats on his back were exactly the same.

Suddenly, a wave of grievance washed over him. He'd thought he'd stopped crying, having cried a lot recently. Tears were the most useless thing. But at this moment, in this "dream," in this familiar atmosphere, he couldn't help but tear up. He shrank into the man's arms, burying his face in his collar, and began to cry softly, his voice low, like the whimper of a wounded kitten: "Xie Mo... He's so disgusting... I smell like him... I've washed so many times, but it still won't come off..."

He didn't say "Wen Juzhi", but the man seemed to know everything. He wiped his tears in a hurry, and when his fingertips brushed the corners of his eyes, he was even a little panicked, and even his voice softened a bit: "I know, I know... It's okay, baby." Li Huaizhou cried even harder, buried his face deeper, and pressed the tip of his nose against the man's collarbone, smelling the crisp mint scent, as if he had grabbed a life-saving straw when drowning. As he cried, the effect of the medicine took effect, and his consciousness began to blur again. The figure in front of him gradually turned into a ball of warm light. In the end, he only remembered that the man touched his hair gently and said, "Take care of yourself, I will really leave tomorrow."

When he woke up again, the sun was already slanting in the west, golden light filtering through the window. Li Huaizhou sat up, still feeling a little dizzy, but much more alert than he had been that morning. He touched his forehead; it wasn't hot anymore, even a little cold. The fever-reducing patch was still stuck on his forehead, rubbing against his skin, making it itch.

His eyes swept over the coffee table, and he was stunned - on it was an opened box of fever-reducing patches, and next to it were several boxes of medicine, including cold medicine, anti-inflammatory medicine, and even a bottle of iodine. There was a note on the bottle, with thin handwriting, which was the style he had seen for three years: "Apply to bruises, avoid contact with water." Next to the note, there was also a lollipop with snow pear and milk flavor. The transparent candy wrapper gleamed in the sun. Li Huaizhou picked up the candy, and his fingertips trembled a little. Suddenly remembering something, he grabbed the phone that was placed in the corner of the sofa. The screen lit up, and several messages popped up. The top one was from Ji Jiancheng, and the time was a little after nine in the morning: "Damn, Brother Chen told me everything! Are you okay? Why didn't you tell me such a big thing! I can't believe that the surname Wen is that kind of person! Don't worry, this is not your fault, you are still my best brother!" Followed by a long string of curse words to Wen Juzhi, full of swear words, and the punctuation marks were full of anger.

Flipping down, I found a message Ji Jiancheng had sent half an hour ago: "I went to see you this morning and saw you had a fever. There were medicines piled on the table, so I fed you some. When you wake up, send me a message. Don't disappear again."

Li Huaizhou's finger paused on the screen. Ji Jiancheng? What was that minty smell in the dream? Ji Jiancheng never used mint-scented laundry detergent; he always said it smelled "like toothpaste," which was unpleasant. He scrolled down again and saw a message from Shen Qitang: "The police said you didn't answer your phone. They asked you to go to the police station at 3 pm and provide further information about those years."

He didn't reply to the message, but just stared at the lollipop in a daze. The candy wrapper was wrinkled in his hand, and the plastic on the edge hurt his fingertips a little. "Is it you?" He asked in a low voice, his voice so light that it seemed to float away. The living room was empty, with only the wind outside the window blowing through the alley. He unwrapped the lollipop and put it in his mouth. The taste of pear mixed with milk slid down his throat, but it didn't suppress the bitterness in his heart - maybe he really was confused because of the fever, so he mistook Ji Jiancheng for Xie Mo and had such a dream. After all, Ji Jiancheng came to feed the medicine in the morning, maybe he remembered the taste wrongly.

He replied to Ji Jiancheng, "I'm fine, thanks," and sent Chen Qitang "Got it," then threw the phone back on the sofa and lay down again. The sofa still had a little warmth. He stared at the chandelier with a piece of paint peeling off the ceiling, feeling empty inside. It turned out to be a dream. He thought. Xie Mo had left a long time ago and went to faraway Paris. How could he come back? Maybe it was because he missed him so much that he was looking forward to his coming even in his dreams, looking forward to someone hugging him and saying "It's okay."

The taste of the pear was still on the tip of his tongue, refreshing and cool, but it made his nose sore. He turned over and buried his face in the sofa, rubbing it gently as he had done in his dream.

For the next few days, Li Huaizhou spent almost all his time running between the police station and the law firm. Wen Juzhi initially denied anything, slamming the desk at the police, spitting on the interrogation room table. He accused Li Huaizhou of "repaying kindness with enmity" and even produced neatly printed bank transfer records for Li Huaizhou's tuition, attempting to prove his "kindness in taking in an orphan." But Li Huaizhou's injuries hadn't healed yet; the scratches on his side and the bruises on his collarbone were still visible. The police also found photos from the bar's storage room that Wen Juzhi had threatened him with—these were the photos Chen Shu had secretly pointed out. That day, when the police arrived, Chen Shu, while Wen Juzhi wasn't paying attention, tugged on the corner of a young police officer's shirt and whispered, "He locked the photos in the innermost iron box, and the key is in the drawer of his bedside table."

When the evidence was placed in front of Wen Juzhi, his face turned pale instantly. He pinched the edge of the table with his fingers until his knuckles turned white, but he still insisted that the photos were "taken for fun, the child is ignorant." What surprised Li Huaizhou was that this lawsuit was much smoother than he had imagined. He didn't have much money, and it was Shen Qitang who helped him find a lawyer with very low fees, saying that he was "an acquaintance and reliable." But he didn't expect that this lawyer was so powerful, speaking clearly and logically. Not only did he refute Wen Juzhi's defense one by one, he also followed the clues to find the other two forced staff members in the bar. They had all been threatened by Wen Juzhi and dared not speak, but the lawyer did not know what method he used to make them willing to come out and testify.

On the day of the trial, Li Huaizhuo stood in the plaintiff's seat. He looked at Wen Juzhi sitting in the defendant's seat with his head down, his hair disheveled, his previous arrogance gone, and his face as gray as a piece of waste paper.

As his lawyer read out his five years of experience, he didn't cry. Instead, he stared at the courtroom window. The sunlight outside was bright, filtering through the glass and illuminating the floor, like the sun on the day he woke. Finally, the judge pronounced the sentence: Wen Juzhi was sentenced to eight years and seven months. Upon hearing the verdict, Li Huaizhou felt nothing. He simply felt as if the weight that had weighed on him for five years had finally fallen, leaving him feeling light as if he could fly.

As they left the court, Shen Qitang handed him a bottle of iced cola and said, "It's over. Everything will be fine from now on." Li Huaizhou took the cola, his fingertips touching the cold bottle, nodded, and said nothing. After dealing with Wen Juzhi's matter, Li Huaizhou went to school. He didn't go to class, but to withdraw from school. The teaching building was very quiet. It was class time, and there were only a few cleaning ladies in the corridor. He walked to the door of Zhou Yu's office, hesitated for a long time, and then knocked gently.

When Zhou Yu saw him, he was stunned for a moment, then sighed, pulled him into the office, and closed the door. His tone was filled with disappointment, "Why are you fooling around too? Xie Mo left, so he left. He has his own way. Why are you still so stubborn that you want to drop out of school? The college entrance examination is almost here. You have made such great progress in your second year of high school. If you persist for a few more months, you can get into a good university. Why are you so stupid?"

Zhou Yu assumed he'd dropped out because of Xie Mo. After all, he'd been depressed for quite a while when Xie Mo left. Li Huaizhou, his hands in his pockets, looked down at the application for withdrawal from school on the table. The handwriting was a little crooked—he'd written it last night under the bar lamp, his hands still shaking, and he couldn't quite make the horizontal strokes. "It's not because of him, Sister Zhou," he said softly, as if afraid to disturb someone. "You know my situation. Wen Juzhi's in jail, and now I can't... go to school."

Zhou Yu looked at him, her eyes turning from disappointment to regret. She picked up the application for withdrawal and read it over and over again, her fingers rubbing the blank space in the "Reason for Withdrawal" column. Finally, she sighed, "Can't I try again? You're a very smart student, and I really hope you can persevere. The school can help you apply for financial aid, so you don't have to worry about tuition. If it's inconvenient for you, you can also live in the school dormitory with Ji Jiancheng, and he can take care of you..."

"Sorry, Sister Zhou," Li Huaizhou interrupted her, raised his head, and there was no emotion in his eyes, as if covered by a layer of fog, "I really thought it through."

Zhou Yu didn't try to persuade him again, but silently signed the withdrawal application. The tip of his pen scraped across the paper, making a slight rustling sound, as if expressing regret for this unfinished course of study. Li Huaizhou took the application, said "thank you," and walked out of the office.

The corridor was still very quiet. He walked very slowly. When he passed the classroom where he and Xie Mo had sat together before, he couldn't help but look in. The seat by the window was empty. There was a little dust on the table. The sunlight shone on it through the window, as if Xie Mo had never sat there before.

It was already mid-April when I left school. The weather was gradually getting warmer, and the evergreen trees at the entrance of the alley had grown new leaves, which were green and rustling in the wind. Li Huaizhou walked slowly along the road, holding the application for withdrawal from school in his hand. The edge of the paper was wrinkled and a little prickly. Days passed, and April 19th came in a blink of an eye. In the evening, Li Huaizhou sat in the room, flipping through an old calendar - it was from last year, which Xie Mo left in the bar, and he never threw it away. The page of April 20th on the calendar was lightly circled with a neutral pen, and small words were written next to it: "Master Xie's birthday" was circled by Li Huaizhou.

He found out by chance last year. He leaned over and asked, "You celebrated my birthday, what about yours?" Xie Mo smiled at him gently and said, "Do you want to guess?" Later he found out that April 20th was Xie Mo's birthday, which was also Grain Rain. He secretly wrote it down at the time and wanted to prepare a gift for Xie Mo, but before his birthday came, Xie Mo passed away.

Li Huaizhou put the calendar on his lap, looked at the circle on the page of April 20th, and touched it lightly with his fingers. Tomorrow is Xie Mo's birthday. Unfortunately, he seems to have never celebrated Xie Mo's birthday. He doesn't even know if Xie Mo is doing well in Paris. However, he doesn't like cakes, so he doesn't know what he will eat.

The moonlight from outside the window shone in, falling on the calendar, making the two small words very clear. Li Huaizhou sat in the moonlight, hugging his knees. He felt a little empty, but also a little at ease. At least, he still remembered Xie Mo's birthday, and this minty Grain Rain that belonged to Xie Mo.