Silent Realm
One day, just after math class, the homeroom teacher, Ms. Li, put away her lesson plan but didn't leave immediately. Her gaze passed over the noisy students and fell on the seat in the last row that had been empty for a week.
"Lu Ziyi," she waved at Lu Yi, who was sorting his notes, "Come here for a moment."
Lu Ziyi paused, put down his pen, and walked towards the podium calmly under the curious or understanding gazes of his classmates.
"Teacher Li." He stood still, his body straight and his tone was as calm as usual.
Teacher Li lowered her voice, her tone filled with undisguised worry: "Cheng Xiaorui hasn't come to class in a long time, and I can't reach him by phone. You are classmates and... friends. Do you know what happened to his family?"
She deliberately used the word "friend," even though she felt it didn't fit. One was a gifted child, the other was quiet and reserved. Besides being classmates, they barely had anything in common.
Lu Ziyi glanced at Cheng Xiaorui's empty desk, where even the books were tidyed away, without any fluctuation in his eyes.
"His mother suddenly became seriously ill and was hospitalized, and he was accompanying her in the hospital." He answered concisely, his tone steady as if he was reporting on work. "It happened suddenly, and I didn't have time to ask for leave from you."
Teacher Li's heart tightened. She thought of the boy who always dressed simply and worked silently and could not imagine the pressure he was under at that moment.
"Is the situation serious? Which hospital is he in? The school might be able to organize some students to go see him, or provide some financial support..."
"Thank you for your concern, teacher. I won't need it for now." Lu Ziyi interrupted her, his words polite but with an undeniable refusal. "Medical care and financial expenses have been taken care of." He paused and added, "As for academics, I will bring him my daily notes and homework and try my best to keep him on track."
These words sealed off all possible avenues of assistance. Teacher Li, observing his calm, almost indifferent face, felt a surge of helplessness. She could see that Lu Zi was "helping," but this airtight, completely controlled by him, "help" always struck her as amiss.
"Lu Ziyi," Teacher Li said earnestly, "Cheng Xiaorui is an introvert, and his family... things must be very difficult right now. You're his classmate, so please pay more attention to his feelings. If he needs help, be sure to tell him that the teacher is here."
Lu Ziyi nodded slightly: "I will pass it on. If there is nothing else, teacher, I will go back first."
He turned and walked back to his seat, leaving Teacher Li looking at his back with a frown, and finally just sighed.
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During Cheng Xiaorui's third week in the hospital, in the dead of night, the sudden, urgent alarm from the equipment in his mother's ward pierced his mind like an icicle. The hurried footsteps and muffled whispers of doctors and nurses transformed into a tremendous fear that pinned him to the spot, unable to move.
In his panic, the only number he could think of was Chen Zihan's, and he'd already dialed it. He listened to the busy tone on the receiver, his body shaking uncontrollably. That was until a damp figure, carrying the scent of wind and rain outside, jolted him back to reality.
Chen Zihan arrived faster than expected. His hair was plastered to his forehead, dripping with rain. His coat was clung to his body in patches, and he looked like he had just been pulled out of the water. He didn't ask, "What's wrong?" or say, "Don't be afraid." He simply opened his arms and gave Cheng Xiaorui a cold, firm hug.
Cheng Xiaorui rested his forehead against Chen Zihan's clammy shoulder, tears flowing silently, followed by stifled, intermittent sobs. He clutched the fabric of Chen Zihan's back like a drowning man grasping at driftwood. In this moment, pride didn't matter; he just needed this shoulder, the one that would come to him even in a torrential downpour.
At the end of the corridor, Lu Ziyi, who had just stepped out of the elevator, was about to fold his umbrella when his movements froze. His gaze, piercing the distance between them, accurately captured the two figures embracing. He saw Chen Zihan's soaking wet back, and also Cheng Xiaorui's completely dependent posture.
Lu Ziyi's fingers tightened slightly, the ribs of the umbrella making a subtle sound, quickly lost in the sound of rain and sobbing. His lips pursed into a straight line, and something in his eyes slowly dimmed. Then, he quietly folded up the extra umbrella, turned, and walked out into the pouring rain outside the hospital, without looking back.
After intensive medical treatment, Cheng Zhixu's condition stabilized temporarily, but he became even weaker, spending much of his time in a coma. The doctor privately told Cheng Xiaorui that this was an inevitable progression of the disease, meaning the remaining time might be shorter and more difficult than expected.
That night, Cheng Xiaorui didn't dare face it alone. Chen Zihan saw his fear and didn't offer to leave. He went to the bathroom, wiped the rain and the mess off his face with a tissue, and when he came back, he sat quietly in a chair in the corner of the ward.
"Go back, Zi Han. It's late and you're all wet." Cheng Xiaorui advised him in a hoarse voice.
"It's okay, I'll stay with you." Chen Zihan shook his head, his voice soft but full of unwavering determination, "I'll leave when your mother's condition stabilizes, or when you fall asleep."
Later that night, Cheng Xiaorui finally gave up and fell asleep beside his mother's hospital bed. Chen Zihan quietly stood up and gently draped his half-dry coat over his thin back. He sat in the chair, watching over Cheng Xiaorui and paying attention to his mother's weak breathing and the number on the medical equipment.
The rain outside the window gradually stopped, and the faint light of dawn seeped in through the cracks in the window, casting bright and dark shadows on his young but worried face.
This night of silent companionship was more powerful than any words. It gave Cheng Xiaorui a temporary fulcrum to rely on beside his mother's rapidly declining trajectory.
Cheng Xiaorui woke up from his chair, feeling a stiff, aching pain in his neck and back. He subconsciously looked towards the bed—his mother was still lying quietly, eyes closed, as if lost in a dream he couldn't reach.
He struggled to get up. The ward was empty, filled only by the rhythmic ticking of the instruments. He briefly splashed cold water on his face in the bathroom, trying to dispel his fatigue. When he emerged, he saw Lu Zi, who had arrived without him noticing, silently placing a few steaming breakfast items on the small table.
Cheng Xiaorui watched him methodically set out the dishes, feeling a bit bewildered, yet strangely unmoved. For the past month, Lu Ziyi and Chen Zihan had been weaving into his life in a way he couldn't resist. He couldn't make sense of the complexities behind this, so he could only passively accept it.
"Eat," Lu Ziyi said quietly, pulling out a chair. He then placed a plastic bag of medicine on the corner of the table, his tone devoid of emotion. "Take your medicine after breakfast. You've been crying too much lately, and you can't let your throat get damaged any more."
"Got it..." Cheng Xiaorui lowered his head, concentrating on eating his bowl of wontons. The hot soup brought a faint warmth to his stomach. Lu Ziyi sat beside him, watching him quietly until he finished eating, then gently cleaned up the mess.
"I'm going to school." Lu Ziyi opened the door of the ward, paused, turned around and added, "Call me if you have anything."
At six in the afternoon, Chen Zihan came in with a bag of fresh fruit. He naturally picked up an apple and a fruit knife, sat on the edge of the bed, and peeled the fruit while asking, "Are you tired today? If you are, you don't need to learn for now." The peels fell continuously between his fingers.
Cheng Xiaorui nodded, his throat seemed to be blocked by something, and he didn't want to speak. He took the perfectly peeled apple, mechanically took a few bites, and put it back without appetite.
At this moment, Chen Zihan's phone rang. He glanced at the screen, his brows furrowed slightly, and then gave Cheng Xiaorui his usual gentle smile: "I'll take a call."
He walked to the window and lowered his voice. Cheng Xiaorui couldn't hear the words, but he could clearly see a look on Chen Zihan's face he had never seen before—a mixture of obvious impatience, a hint of suppressed anger, and even a hint of... a strange disgust. The look in his eyes was sharp and unfamiliar, a stark contrast to his usual smiling, effortless image.
The call ended quickly. When Chen Zihan turned back around, all the strange emotions on his face had instantly vanished, and he put on that reassuring smile again. He naturally picked up the apple Cheng Xiaorui had just left and took a nonchalant bite.
"I have something urgent to do over there, so I have to leave first. You should have a good rest." He said in a light tone and walked out of the ward while chewing an apple, as if the sudden change of expression just now was just an illusion of Cheng Xiaorui.
The ward fell silent again. Cheng Xiaorui's gaze slowly shifted back to his mother's pale and tranquil face.
He has slept for a whole day, but Cheng Zhixu hasn't woken up yet.
He looked at his mother and sighed deeply and silently. His thoughts were in a mess and he didn't even know what he was thinking about.
It was the third week of October, and autumn was already in full swing. Cheng Xiaorui gently pushed open the window of his hospital room. A gust of wind rushed in, carrying a sharp, damp breeze that made him shiver uncontrollably. He silently closed the window. The glass blocked out the outside sounds, and it seemed to isolate him from the entire season.
It was already coat season. Time seemed to be sped up in the hospital, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. It was so fast that he couldn't catch the passing seasons, and so slow that every minute of waiting became torture.
His mother barely managed a few sips of lukewarm porridge and exchanged a few words with him before her feeble energy, like a flickering candle in the wind, quickly extinguished, and she sank back into the drug-induced slumber. Cheng Xiaorui stared at her lips, nearly transparently pale, chapped and peeling. Not even a hint of blood on them told him that life still flowed powerfully. A wave of impotent bitterness washed over his nose. He turned his head away, but tears were already falling uncontrollably, silently hitting the cold tile floor.
A week ago, Zhou Yuan called, the familiar, slightly noisy sound of a convenience store's delivery payment reminder blaring in the background. "Xiao Rui, it's incredibly busy here. When can you and your mother come back to help?"
Cheng Xiaorui's throat was choked, and thousands of words were stuck in his chest. In the end, he only whispered a few hoarse words: "Boss Zhou, I'm sorry... For the time being, I can't go." He took a deep breath and tried to make his voice sound steady. "You don't have to calculate my salary yet. Please, don't cancel my place. When my mother is better... I will definitely come back, definitely..."
Zhou Yuan on the other end of the phone was silent for a few seconds, and finally let out a heavy sigh: "...Oh, I understand. You take care of the family first. I'll save a spot for you here."
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