Chapter 7

The evening breeze in September was slightly cool.

The houses on both sides of the road have already lit up. You grip the motorcycle seat with both hands and relax, gazing at both sides.

The mountains were dim, the clouds were pitch black, and the rows of fields were completely obscured.

The night breeze blew in through Qiu Li's sleeves, causing her oversized white T-shirt to flutter. The motorcycle drove into the night market, and Qiu Li, holding her helmet, ordered a lot of food at the market and instructed them to be delivered to the nearest Longteng KTV.

"Why did you bring me here?"

Qiu Li grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside: "It's a birthday party, what else could we be doing?"

My fifteenth birthday should be celebrated properly.

Back then, most birthday parties for children involved cooking two nice dishes and boiling one or two eggs. During the day, you had already eaten the eggs cooked by your aunt and received the money your brother had saved up, so you felt that was already very good.

There were only the two of you in the private room. Qiu Li happily ordered a lot of songs and pulled you to sing along.

"Today, Afei turns fifteen!"

Qiu Li, holding a microphone, jumped around in the private room. You went from ignoring him with your arms crossed to throwing peanut shells at him and grabbing skewers, making a ruckus. The two fifteen or sixteen-year-old boys, arm in arm, watched the female singer's music video in the KTV.

At 11 p.m., Qiu Li turned off the lights and opened the small cardboard box that she had placed on the coffee table that morning. Inside the box was a 6-inch fruit cake and a white tiger made of cream.

Qiu Li squatted in front of the coffee table and lit the candle with a lighter.

In the pitch black, candlelight shone into his eye sockets, making his eyes appear deep-set.

That face had excellent features, a high nose bridge, and long, thick, curled eyelashes that reminded you of a gentle pony when it looked up at you.

You gaze silently at the flickering candlelight, as silent as the night itself.

Qiu Li adjusted the position of the candle, his boyish face innocent yet loyal: "I remember, in fifth grade, I was being punished by standing outside the classroom, and your class was right across from us. You were having Chinese class, and I heard the teacher call on you to stand up and read your composition."

“You said that every year on your birthday, your mother would give you a tiger cake, and on that day she would do nothing but play with you all day long.”

"You said that, apart from the Mid-Autumn Festival and Lunar New Year's Eve, those were your favorite days."

Qiu Li suddenly exclaimed "Damn!" as she spoke, and laughed, "When I was in fifth grade, all I could write was, 'Ah, today is so wonderful.' My dad scolded me for only being able to write diary entries."

You stood frozen in place, captivated by the rekindled candlelight.

Because of that cake.

Because of a cream tiger.

Because of Mom.

You understand that life is good now, and no one has wronged you. Everything that happened in the past was just an accident. But now you realize how much resentment and sadness you have inside.

You really want to ask her why she left and never came back, why she never wants you again.

Why didn't you spend more time talking to her in the past? Why couldn't you be more sensible? Why did you make her work while she was sick? Why couldn't you be more capable? If you could earn a lot of money, she wouldn't have gotten into trouble to support you.

She promised to spend the New Year with you. Is it because you weren't good enough or obedient enough that she left you?

There are many mothers in the world, so why is it that your mother is gone?

You want to find her, you want to dream about her, but she never appears. You want to tell her that you have learned a lot, won many awards, been admitted to a top high school, grown up, turned fifteen, and no longer need to eat cake or celebrate your birthday.

A cake costs 68 yuan, which can save you a lot of money.

You've been so good, can she see you in her dreams?

You can't see your own expression, but you can feel the tears falling in large drops. Your chest and heart are being crushed by a tremendous force, making it hard to breathe, as if you are drowning, and you gasp for air.

Qiu Li's smile faded little by little. He stood up helplessly, opened his arms to hug you, but you pushed him away, lowered your head, and didn't let him see your face.

Qiu Li silently and slowly sat down next to you, and you didn't speak for a long time.

Qiu Li put her arm around your shoulder and hugged you tightly.

"I'm here, it's all over, it's okay."

At that moment, you were grateful for the music that never stopped, grateful for the dim light, grateful that he didn't ask anything and accepted all your emotions.

In the years that followed, whenever you felt lonely or sad, you would turn off the lights, look at the New York night view, and your heart would slowly calm down.

After that day, Qiu Li "lent" you her phone.

“Even though we’re separated by a county, if we have cell phones, we can still contact each other anytime, just like before. And since we’re so far from home, if you encounter any trouble, you can contact me first, and I’ll know immediately.”

Qiu Li was smug. You thought about it and accepted: "I will send you a word problem on □□ every day, and you have to solve it."

Qiu Li: "Nanfei, you need to understand that you are not a Bodhisattva, you can't save me."

You snapped the phone box shut: "Then take it back."

Qiu Li: "I beg you to cherish me."

You ultimately didn't return the phone.

You don't want Qiu Li to become like you, so it's not a big deal if her grades are a little worse.

...

After entering high school, you were placed in an experimental class, where the curriculum was very demanding.

You are all bullets ready to be loaded; you must hone yourselves to be invincible before you are fired.

From the first day of class, I barely had any time to communicate with Qiu Li. In addition, the school had strict regulations on electronic products, so I could only contact her at a frequency of six or seven text messages a week.

Most of the students in the class were top students from the original middle school. They were enthusiastic about learning and obsessed with sharing various learning materials.

At first, you weren't used to living in the dormitory. Some of your eight roommates didn't have personalities that you appreciated.

However, some of them are good at communicating, don't mind your shortcomings, and respect your ideas. You become friends with a few of them, eat together, recite together, exchange ideas and learn together, and gradually form a small group.

Your older brother and second brother would occasionally come to visit you, bringing you walnuts, red dates, milk candy, and a must-have jar of your aunt's secret-recipe pickles to enrich the monotonous meals in the high school cafeteria.

Qiu Li said you were under too much academic pressure, so she sent you an M4 player to help you relax. You deleted the music and asked a classmate outside of school to download a lot of English listening materials.

When Qiu Li found out, she sent a lot of exclamation marks in the text message. You think the face behind those exclamation marks must be really stupid. You sometimes think about it and laugh for no reason. Your deskmate stared at you several times because of this.

When the monthly break arrives, you're carrying your schoolbag, ready to go home. There are many cars at the school gate, and Qiu Li is casually riding his motorcycle, waving at you.

You walk towards him. Many times, from the first year of high school to the second year, he would come every holiday. Sometimes he would greet you, sometimes he wouldn't. His motorcycle would be parked quietly in a corner outside the school. If you waited a little while when you came out of the gate, you would definitely see it.

This is a pleasure for you, a pleasure no less than solving a complex math problem.

...

In your second year of high school, your high school group went out for a meal to celebrate one of your friends' birthdays.

You have a good relationship with that boy. He sleeps in the bunk above you, has good sleeping habits, is always quiet and won't disturb you, and is also a good student. His family often sends him expensive snacks, and he always lets you choose first. He is also very considerate of your feelings.

You think he's a pretty good friend.

On his birthday, you bought him a book he liked. When you ate together, he was incredibly nervous the whole time and drank barley tea like crazy.

Before the dinner party ended, he called you out alone, under the red lanterns outside the restaurant.

I'm confessing my love to you.