Wait a moment.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the clean glass window of Jiang Yibai's guest room, casting a warm glow over the bed. Lin Xiyan woke up later than usual.
The mattress beneath me was incredibly soft, the quilt fluffy and warm, with a pleasant scent of sunshine and laundry detergent. Beside the pillow, the orange-white ball of fur remained curled up, emitting a subtle, even snoring sound.
He lay there in a daze for a few seconds before slowly realizing where he was. It wasn't the cold, shabby rental house, but... Jiang Yibai's home.
Everything from last night came flooding back to his mind like a tide - the warm embrace, the gentle kiss, the close and suffocating embrace... His cheeks began to heat up uncontrollably again. He subconsciously touched his lips, and the slight numbness seemed to still be there.
The room next to him was empty. Jiang Yibai had already gotten up.
My heart felt inexplicably empty.
He slowly sat up. His injured wrist had been carefully bandaged again, the gauze crisp and white. On the bedside table lay a neatly folded set of new clothes, the labels still attached, and a pair of brand new cotton socks next to them.
In the bathroom, new toothbrushes, towels, and mouthwash cups were all available, all unopened. Hot water gurgled out, dispelling the last bit of the morning chill.
All of this was so thoughtful that he felt at a loss. It was like walking on soft clouds, beautiful but unreal.
When he went downstairs, Xu Panting was setting up breakfast in the restaurant. Seeing him, a gentle smile immediately appeared on his face: "Xiyan, are you awake? Come and have breakfast. Xiaobai went to the competition early in the morning and kept asking you to sleep in a little longer."
There was a sumptuous breakfast on the table, including millet porridge, fried eggs, milk, and some exquisite snacks.
"Thank you, Auntie," Lin Xiyan murmured, sitting down and eating in small bites. The food was delicious and warmed her stomach. Xu Panting was considerate and didn't ask any more questions. She just gently asked him to eat more, as if he were her own child.
But this naturalness actually made Lin Xiyan even more reserved. He was used to being ignored and treated coldly, and this kind of unprovoked kindness and thoughtfulness made him feel unsure of where to put his hands and feet. Every bit of kindness was like a small stone, weighing heavily on his heart.
He ate quickly, almost hurriedly, then put on his schoolbag and whispered goodbye to Xu Panting.
Stepping out of the warm, bright little building and back into the cool air, he felt an inexplicable sense of relief. It was as if he had left an overly beautiful dream and returned to a familiar, though cold, but at least predictable, reality.
Walk to school and enter the classroom.
The seat next to the window was empty.
Jiang Yibai's desk was spotless, and his chair was neatly tucked under the desk. He was going to participate in a physics competition all day and wouldn't be back until the afternoon.
Lin Xiyan settled into her seat and pulled out her textbook. The surroundings were still noisy, with classmates gathered in groups of three or four, chatting and laughing. But the sounds seemed to be separated by a transparent membrane, blurry and distant.
He lowered his head and looked at the open pages. The sunlight fell on the paper, which was a bit dazzling.
boring.
The word popped into my mind without warning.
Yes, boredom. A familiar, empty, numb feeling of doing nothing began to creep over me like a tide.
At this time of the day, someone would casually touch his arm, slip him a note filled with teasing or hints, or simply lean over and ask him silly questions in a slurred tone. Even though he didn't respond most of the time, that intense, undeniable presence filled his world like a background noise.
Now, the background noise disappeared, and the world suddenly became strangely quiet, and strangely... empty.
He tried to concentrate on reading, but the black characters kept dancing before his eyes, unable to enter his brain. He picked up a pen and wanted to write something, but the tip of the pen hovered over the paper for a long time, unable to put it down.
A subtle, unsettling feeling of anxiety, like a tiny insect, began to gnaw at my heart.
He couldn't help but look up at the empty seat next to him again and again.
Why hasn't he come back yet?
As soon as this thought came to his mind, he suddenly cut it off. What was he thinking? Jiang Yibai had only been away for the competition and had only been gone for less than two hours.
But...that empty feeling can't be shaken off.
During the break, the noise grew even louder. Lu Panji and He Yunling came over to greet him, winking and teasing him, saying, "I'm lost without Brother Jiang." He ducked his head and dodged them. They didn't stay long, quickly running off to play again.
He sat alone in his seat, watching the figures running and leaping on the playground outside the window. The sun was shining, and his classmates' faces were smiling brightly. But none of this had anything to do with him. He felt as if he were isolated in a transparent glass case, unable to reach him from all the bustle and life outside.
They look... so relaxed.
Why... am I the only one like this?
Negative emotions, like vines that have found a crack, begin to grow and spread silently.
Yesterday...that kiss...what was it?
Was he just... acting on a whim?
Will he really not get tired of troublesome people like me?
Now that he's not here... don't you...actually feel relieved?
The insecurity and inferiority that were deeply rooted in his bones, which had been suppressed by the brief warmth, raged back in the gaps of solitude. The better Jiang Yibai treated him, the stronger his feeling of "unworthiness" became.
The amount I owe him...is getting more and more.
How can I pay it back? What can I use to pay it back?
If he can’t pay it back...will he leave?
My heart felt like it was being slowly tightened by an invisible hand, a dull ache spreading through it. Breathing became difficult. The sun shone on my body, but I felt no warmth at all. Instead, I felt the sense of helplessness and coldness of being exposed in broad daylight.
He subconsciously touched the gauze wrapped around his wrist. A slight tingling sensation brought a strange, familiar sense of calm.
It seems...it's only real when it hurts.
There is no need to worry about losing, because you have nothing to begin with.
This thought crept into my mind like a poisonous snake.
He pulled his hand back abruptly, his fingertips cold.
No. You can't think like that.
He lowered his head in panic, trying to find something in his bag to distract himself. His fingertips touched a small, hard box.
Jiang Yibai had stuffed it into his schoolbag that morning. He said it was a "vitamin supplement," but it was actually chocolate chips from his favorite brand.
He took out the small box and held it in his hand. The tin box was icy cold.
He said...don't hurt yourself anymore.
He said...it would hurt.
Jiang Yibai's purple eyes, filled with heartache and fear, appeared clearly before her eyes. And the slightly trembling arms and choked sobs he made when he hugged her tightly last night.
The dark thoughts growing in my heart seemed to be suddenly stabbed by the sunlight, and shrank back a little.
He clutched the small box tightly, his fingertips turning white from the force, as if it were the only piece of driftwood he could hold onto amidst the raging wind and waves.
The bell rang again and again. He didn't listen to anything the teacher said. He just mechanically followed the teacher's instructions and wrote, but he didn't know what he had written.
At lunchtime, he had no appetite and went to the library alone. He found a seat in the corner and took out his exercise book, but he couldn't concentrate on any of the questions.
Sunlight streamed in through the high windows, casting long, dark spots across the tabletop. The air was thick with the scent of old books and paper. It was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat.
So quiet.
It's too quiet.
The feeling of being forgotten by the whole world surged back, even more intense than before, as if the warmth I felt yesterday and this morning was just an illusion.
He pulled out his phone. The screen was dark. No new messages.
Jiang Yibai is competing and must be very busy.
He clicked on the only chat interface. The last record was the solitary "Hmm" he had sent last night.
He stared at the screen for a long time, his fingertips trembling slightly as they hovered over the input box.
He wanted to ask... Is the competition difficult?
He wanted to say...school was boring.
He even... just wanted to hear his voice.
But…what should I say? Would it bother him? Wouldn't it make me seem too dependent, too annoying?
Finally, he slowly withdrew his fingers, turned off the screen, and clutched the phone tightly in his hand, as if holding on to the last faint, illusory connection.
The afternoon classes were even more agonizing. Time seemed to be stuck, passing by incredibly slowly.
He leaned over the table, tilting his head to look at the empty seat next to him. The sunlight illuminated the wood grain of the tabletop clearly.
How long will it take before you come back?
This thought popped up uncontrollably and repeatedly.
The school bell finally rang.
The classmates cheered and rushed out of the classroom. Lin Xiyan packed his bag slowly, his movements a little slow. He didn't want to go back to his warm but disoriented home, nor did he want to go back to his cold and empty rental house.
He walked out slowly with the crowd, carrying his schoolbag. When he reached the school gate, he subconsciously stopped.
He stood by the road, watching the cars passing by, but he didn't leave as usual. It was as if he was...waiting for something.
A faint voice in my heart said: He said he would be back in the afternoon.
The setting sun stretched his shadow very long. The wind blew over, bringing with it the coolness of late autumn.
He clenched the strap of his schoolbag and looked in the direction the car was coming. The emptiness and uneasiness in his heart seemed to be slightly filled by a faint expectation that he was unwilling to admit.
Wait a moment.
Just a moment.
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