Xiaoman is not yet full

As the Grain Full season approaches, the weather warms, the sun begins to take on weight, and the air is filled with the bustling aroma of thriving growth. The city seems to have been fast-forwarded, everything seems hurried and full.

Chen Xu had been looking restless lately. While his visits to Ye Shu's apartment hadn't decreased, his presence was no longer simply lazing around or making noises. He'd clutch his laptop, brow furrowed as he processed emails, or sigh into his phone, his fingers unconsciously tapping the tabletop with a staccato, disturbing click.

Ye Shu continued brewing his tea and watching his light. But the anxious, restless energy emanating from Chen Xu was like invisible radio waves, disrupting the usual frequency of this space. Ye Shu's gaze would occasionally drift away from the window, resting on Chen Xu's furrowed brow, lingering for a moment before silently moving away.

That afternoon, Chen Xu finally exploded. He slammed his laptop shut with a loud snap, slumped onto the sofa, covered his face with his hands, and let out a long, almost whimpering sigh.

“Ah! I can’t take it anymore! I’m going crazy!”

Ye Shu was pouring boiling water into the teapot. The sound of the water continued to flow and his movements did not slow down at all, as if the wailing sound was just the horn of a car passing by outside the window.

Chen Xu sat up straight abruptly, as if he urgently needed an outlet to vent, regardless of whether this outlet was willing to accept it or not.

"One project! Just a crappy project! The plan has been revised eight times! The client knows nothing and just keeps giving orders! The boss just keeps pushing people! The people under him are as dumb as pigs! The deadline is right around the corner, and it's a mess! I can't even go through this shift for a day!" He spoke very quickly, like a machine gun firing, full of gunpowder and frustration.

Ye Shu poured the brewed tea into two cups, walked over, and placed one on the table in front of Chen Xu. His movements were so steady that the tea in the cup barely rippled.

Chen Xu didn't even glance at the tea. He waved his hands and continued to complain, "Why do I have to do all the work, but others get all the credit? I work overtime every day, and the salary is so low! The house prices are so expensive! I feel like I'll never be able to afford a toilet! What's the point of living? Just to suffer this kind of bullshit?!"

His voice rose in pitch, his face flushed with anger and frustration.

Ye Shu sat down on the ground opposite him, picked up his cup of tea, blew away the steam, and took a sip. Then, he raised his eyes, looked calmly at the out-of-control Chen Xu, and asked an unrelated question:

"Do you hear the cicadas?"

Chen Xu was speaking furiously when he was suddenly interrupted by this question. He choked and nearly choked. "...Huh? Cicada? What cicada?" He listened carefully, but there was only the faint noise of the city outside the window. "No? It's only this late at night, how can there be any cicadas?"

"It's almost there," Ye Shu said calmly, his eyes sweeping across the lush green trees outside the window. "They've been waiting underground for years, even more than ten years, just for one summer."

Chen Xu was stunned, not understanding why Ye Shu suddenly said this.

"While they're waiting, do they know how hot summer is? How many natural enemies they have? How much energy their chirping takes?" Ye Shu's voice was low, but like a stream of cool water, it quietly washed over Chen Xu's restless mood. "They don't know. They just wait. When the time comes, they'll emerge and do what they're supposed to do."

He paused, his gaze returning to Chen Xu's face. There was no hint of preaching in his light-colored pupils, only a calmness that seemed to see through everything.

"Your anger, your anxiety, your comparisons," he said, gently setting down the teacup, the bottom of the cup making a very slight "tap" sound on the table. "Isn't it like the futility of foreshadowing the scorching heat and cacophony of summer for a cicada that hasn't even emerged from the ground yet?"

Chen Xu opened his mouth, but all the complaints and anger in his heart suddenly got stuck in his throat, unable to move up or down, making him choke uncomfortably. He tried to understand Ye Shu's words, but his mind was in a mess.

"I... I'm not a cicada..." He tried to defend himself in vain, his voice trailing off.

"There's no difference in essence," Ye Shu said. "They're all in their own cycles, doing what they must do and enduring what they must endure."

"But...but this suffering is meaningless!" Chen Xu struggled, trying to grasp his reasonable anger.

"Meaning," Ye Shu's lips seemed to curve ever so slightly, like an illusory ripple, fleeting. "It's something that's bestowed only after the bird sings. Or perhaps, it's never bestowed. The song itself is meaning."

Chen Xu fell completely silent. He stared blankly at Ye Shu, at his expressionless face. The anxieties that kept him awake at night, the grievances that filled him with indignation, suddenly seemed... somewhat ridiculous, a bit self-inflicted, in the face of Ye Shu's metaphor about the cicada.

Yes, projects must be done, classes must be attended, and frustrations must be endured. Just like the cicadas must chirp and summer arrives, it's the norm of life, a "must-do." Exerting too much emotion on this beforehand is like worrying about the summer heat for a cicada that hasn't even emerged yet—truly futile.

He picked up the untouched cup of tea on the table. It was already warm, slightly bitter at first, but with a sweet aftertaste. He sipped it slowly, his turbulent emotions, like the tea, slowly cooling and settling.

The only sound in the room was the low hum of the air conditioner.

After a long time, Chen Xu finally let out a long sigh. The breath was filled with fatigue, but it also took away a lot of heavy things.

"That's the truth..." He muttered softly, as if trying to convince himself, "But... I can't help but feel annoyed."

"Yeah," Ye Shu replied, expressing his understanding of this "can't help it." He never denied the existence of emotions, but simply offered another perspective on them.

Chen Xu put down the teacup, scratched his hair, and seemed to be relieved: "Forget it, I don't want to think about it anymore! If the enemy comes, we will fight him; if the water comes, we will block it with earth! You have changed the plan eight times, right? I will fight you to the death!" He regained some of his invincible spirit, although it was no longer blind anger, but with a bit of resigned tenacity.

He reopened his laptop, his expression still tired, but his earlier frenzy had faded. He began to focus on his emails, the clacking of the keyboard still incessant, but less restless.

Ye Shu stopped talking and just sat quietly with him. The sunlight came through the window, casting bright spots on the floor, which moved slowly.

Occasionally, Chen Xu would encounter a problem and get stuck, unconsciously letting out a tut or scratching his head. Ye Shu wouldn't immediately glance over, but after a moment, he would naturally push the nearly forgotten plate of snacks Chen Xu had brought an inch closer to him.

An imperceptible movement.

Sometimes Chen Xu would subconsciously grab a piece and put it in his mouth, chewing it. His brows would gradually relax, as if he had drawn energy from the sweet food to continue fighting.

Time flows in the sound of keyboard tapping and silence. Clouds drift slowly by outside the window.

When Chen Xu finally finished a stage of work, slammed shut his computer, and stretched his body, the sunset had already begun to set.

"Ah - finally finished a part!" He collapsed on the sofa. Although he was still tired, there was a sense of completion in his tone.

He turned to look at Ye Shu and saw that he had picked up the pot containing the small green plant—the same one that had been infested with aphids—and was using a pair of tweezers to delicately remove a tiny, dry scar from a leaf. His movements were as focused as if he were performing a miniature sculpture.

Chen Xu watched and suddenly laughed.

"The leaves are sparse," he said. "Sometimes I feel like you are a tree."

Ye Shu did not stop moving, nor did he respond.

"It's that kind of tree... a very big, very old tree." Chen Xu went on to himself, his eyes a little far away. "No matter the wind, rain, or scorching sun, it just sits there, motionless. Birds build nests on it, insects gnaw at its leaves, but it doesn't care. It just grows its leaves and sheds its leaves, year after year."

He paused, his voice lowered, "When people look at me...it makes me feel at ease."

Ye Shu's tweezers paused for a moment, so brief that it was almost impossible to grasp.

Then he continued with his work, gently straightening the cleaned leaf.

Outside the window, the setting sun blazed like fire, painting the sky a brilliant orange. The hustle and bustle of the city remained, but at this moment, it seemed like a distant background noise.

Before Grain Full, all things are on the road to growth, full of hope, but also inevitably accompanied by hardships.

But in this apartment, something deeper than silence is quietly growing. It's not perfection, but a gesture akin to "acceptance"—accepting the busyness, accepting the restlessness, accepting the futility and inevitability of life, and then continuing to quietly "grow its own leaves."

Chen Xu looked at the leaves with soft golden edges outlined by the setting sun, and the land in his heart that was cracked by anxiety seemed to be injected with a stream of calm spring water.

Although the worries are still there, the project still needs to be revised and classes still need to be attended.

But at this moment, he suddenly felt that all this was not so unbearable.