60 lovers
The data file Zhou Qi gave seemed to be copied from the Finance Department.
Compared to the publicly disclosed accounts, this was clearly a small matter, leaving Yang Xiao trembling with fear. The numbers on the detailed statement returned to their most primitive form, representing no value, becoming mere numbers. This nearly nine-digit account balance was being eroded bit by bit.
She compared the annual accounts, which were publicly available, and listed any anomalies one by one, organizing them into a file. Combined with her work at Zhimiao, Yang Xiao hadn't had a good rest that week at home. Fortunately, as she sorted through the accounts, she became increasingly adept at it, and the connections between items became clearer and clearer.
It's almost finished.
It was unclear if Zhou Qi had gotten better these past few days. Although he replied to her messages every now and then, whenever she mentioned calling him to explain the details about the document, he would not respond. He would either say he was busy with work or that his voice was still a little hoarse and he spoke like a duck, and he didn't want her to laugh at him.
But Yang Xiao wouldn't laugh at him. When she wasn't working, she wished she could turn into a bird outside the window, spread her wings, fly over the walls, and check on him. She wanted to see if he'd recovered from his illness, if he'd lost weight from exhaustion, and if he was worried about her, just like she was. Unfortunately, her bones were too heavy, and she didn't have the well-developed, sturdy muscles of a bird.
Zhou Qi felt light and airy, sometimes like a solitary boat floating on the sea, sometimes like a sparrow startled from the windowsill, singing until its mouth was dry. A colleague opened the door and leaned in to whisper something in his ear, but he couldn't make it out. All he could see was a blur of white swaying before his eyes.
He had a high fever and his condition took a turn for the worse.
Yang Xiao's right eyelid twitched for some reason, and the pen she was holding plummeted to the ground. The tip of the pen instantly tilted from the force, and when she picked it up, she scratched on the paper with a clumsy hand. She called Zhou Qi again, but no one answered.
She couldn't help but start imagining the worst outcome. On one side of her mind, Zhou Qi smiled and asked her if she wanted to eat lychees. On the other side, Zhou Qi was lying there quietly, exactly the same as Zhou Daye who had been on the hospital bed.
Yang Xiao's legs slipped, and she felt unsteady, so she leaned against the table and leaned back against the chair. The phone, charging on the table, began to ring, signaling a video call. The rapid vibrations crawled across the table to her fingertips, and she smiled like a child who had finally gotten candy.
"Zhou Qi, you finally called me." Yang Xiao pressed the answer button without hesitation, and also calmed her pounding heart.
"Hello, I'm Zhou Qi's colleague, my name is Wu Lian." Instead of the expected smiling face, the other end was another man, wrapped up so tightly that only his eyes could be seen. "Zhou Qi, he...he's not doing well. You need to be mentally prepared."
Yang Xiao felt as if a landslide was about to occur. The rocks that once stood firm on the cliffs suddenly rumbled down the hillside, trying to swallow her up until the little oxygen in her chest was drained away, until she could no longer see any light or color. "Isn't it a cold?"
Her stomach suddenly cramped and she subconsciously bent over and retched.
"It's indeed the symptoms of the flu in the early stages." Wu Lian saw the shock, disbelief, and rapidly rising tears in her eyes, and he slowed his tone. "I'll take you to see him. He said this morning he'd call you."
Yang Xiao subconsciously closed her eyes, tears silently streaming down her cheekbones and the corners of her mouth. How many tears would it take to keep what she wanted? She was terrified at this moment, her shoulders began to tremble, and even the image of herself in the video was shaking, her face a little blurry.
"Don't be afraid."
But it was not Zhou Qi's voice.
Wu Lian continued, "Look at him, he's awake."
Wang Ruopeng walked up behind Yang Xiao at some point, took the shaking phone from her hand, smoothed her back, and placed the phone steadily in front of Yang Xiao, "Xiaoxiao, open your eyes and take a look."
After closing her eyes, Yang Xiao's world was pitch black, but her hearing became unusually sharp. Then, she heard the crisp chirping of sparrows outside the window.
"Listen."
Yang Xiao opened her eyes. Zhou Qi's face had become much thinner, his bones more pronounced. Lying on the hospital bed, he looked at her from afar through the thick glass, but he couldn't see her clearly, his eyes wandering. Long tubes were inserted into his body, an oxygen tube was pressed under his nose, and his purple lips parted slightly.
Yang Xiao nodded vigorously, wanting him to save some energy.
As if afraid that she didn't see clearly, Zhou Qi moved the back of his hand that was receiving an IV drip on the quilt and gestured with difficulty.
Yang Xiao's dried tears welled up again. She'd understood it long ago; the moment he opened his mouth, she knew it. He was saying: "Autumn is not yeah, it's leaves." The tiny screen of a phone could hold two people who could never see each other, a longing and yearning that spanned time and place, and the shared sorrow of humanity at this moment.
"He woke up once this morning and made a phone gesture to me." Wu Lianyi looked at the person on the other side of the glass, his voice choked with sobs, "But I don't know who he was going to call. I don't even know his phone password."
"I went to look at the emergency contact form, and it was you."
"After the director approved it, I called you multiple times, but the lines were always busy. At that moment, I thought, could I not even fulfill this little wish of his?" Two tears rolled down Wu Lian's eyes. "I didn't give up, so I went back to his dorm to look for it. The letter he hadn't put away was blown all over the floor by the wind, and I almost stepped on it."
Yang Xiao's vision blurred, as if a thick fog had risen. She immediately raised her hand to wipe it away, then looked back at the person on the bed, afraid to miss a single moment.
"The first one I picked up said, 'Because I came to support Wuhan, I missed your 27th birthday. I want to make it up to you, and it won't just be about eating longevity noodles.' I immediately took his phone and it opened. Besides the hospital message, the only pinned message was yours. I guessed you were the person he wanted to call."
"Luckily, I guessed right. But he didn't give me any other options." Wu Lian held up his phone and walked to a place where the glass didn't reflect the light. The rustling sound of his protective suit fell on Yang Xiao's ears, like the rustling of autumn leaves. "I'll keep the contents of the letter for him for now and take pictures to show you later. There's a stack of them."
"Thank you...thank you." Yang Xiao burst into tears and choked with sobs.
They didn't have much time to talk again; Wu Lian was about to leave for another shift. The moment she hung up, Yang Xiao felt as if her connection with Zhou Qi had been severed. She squatted on the ground, tears streaming down her face. It felt like someone had branded her heart with a deep scar, a scar that would never heal.
Wuwu held his tail upright, rubbed her back and forth, and licked away her tears from time to time.
Wang Ruopeng went to the kitchen and brought a cup of warm water and handed it to her.
She cried even harder, from silent to full-throated, heartbreaking. Her world, having briefly said goodbye to Zhou Qi, hadn't collapsed, merely missing a piece, letting in a whistling wind. She still had her adorable kitten and her warm Ruo Peng. But Zhou Qi, realizing this, burst into tears again.
He worked with Uncle Zhou on his calculator to fulfill her dream of studying, earned money to buy her a down jacket so she wouldn't have to suffer the cold in winter, used bundles of lychees to teach her to be true to herself, braved the freezing cold while waiting for her downstairs in the dormitory, smiling and saying she didn't need to look up to him, willingly using an old, broken phone himself to buy her a new one, took her to see a sleep specialist, and gave her a bright, vibrant sunflower...
He remembered the steamed bun shop where she loved to eat, and would hold her new shirt in his arms and give it to her without hesitation. He took one step after another towards her without hesitation, and took red-eye flights from the city to Beijing several times, dragging a full suitcase of rose bouquets. He told her in a strong and romantic way what the flower of love was. When he returned to his circle of friends, he would change the background of his circle of friends to the photo taken in Beihai. He held her hand and kissed her again and again with his warm and strong hands.
He is her teacher who helps her to move forward, a warm and reliable brother, and her best friend.
He is the direct source of her momentary pain and joy, and he is her lover.
And all those moments that had held her steady now turned into rubble smashing against her chest. It turns out that a person's kindness can sometimes be so sharp that it can be painful.
Yang Xiao didn't know how she ended up lying on the bed with her tired body and red and swollen eyes. Wang Ruopeng pushed the door open and saw her red cheeks. He realized that she also had a low-grade fever. Her lips were chapped and oozing blood, but she kept mumbling and calling for Zhou Qi.
Seeing her like this, Wang Ruopeng couldn't help but have tears in his eyes.
Yes, the person she had loved since her girlhood was now lying weakly on the hospital bed. Even though he couldn't speak, he still called her to let her know he was safe. When he had free time, he took a piece of letter paper and engraved his full feelings on it. No matter how much she blamed him, she couldn't help but be moved by such feelings.
Yang Xiao ran a fever all night, and only at dawn the next day did her temperature drop. The persistent low-grade fever and the exhaustion of the previous night made her feel as if she were living in a dream. Lu Town was a dream, the city was a dream, Beijing was a dream, and Zhimiao was also a dream.
But Wu Lian actually sent her the first letter, which began with:
Another me:
Seeing a letter is like seeing you in person. Due to the sudden outbreak of the epidemic, I came to Wuhan and missed your 27th birthday. If this letter can be sent as scheduled, my first words should be, Happy birthday to the other me in this world!
I remember your first birthday at our house. We sat together under the yellow cypress tree. The shadows swayed, and the light played on you playfully, like a spotlight. Dad, as usual, cooked a bowl of longevity noodles with a golden poached egg. Your eyes lit up, and you asked in surprise, "Is this for me?"
My dad and I nodded in unison.
You were so happy that you held the bowl and slurped it up. Soon the bowl of noodles was empty. You held your stomach and said a little embarrassedly that this was your first luxurious birthday.
My dad and I both laughed, and he said this was not luxury at all.
Luxurious, sort of. After all, it contained Dad's lifelong ramen skills and omelet-making prowess, along with so much care and attention that sometimes I felt a little jealous. But back then, I felt nothing but heartache. I wondered, how could anyone be more pitiful than me? Perhaps it was our similar backgrounds that gave me an inexplicable sense of empathy and responsibility.
So I always wanted to work faster and harder to make our family's life better. But I always focused on material benefits and forgot about emotional well-being. I was so busy that I neglected you and Dad. Here, I want to apologize to Dad and you again.
Later, Dad's passing caught us all off guard, even leading to depression. But what you don't know is that I, too, had a hand in this. I once thought that by dancing with wolves, I'd secured a ticket to freedom, but now I realize I was completely mistaken. I felt guilty and tormented, and spent a period of profound darkness alone.
Until you show up again.
I am no longer afraid or confused.
Thank you, Yang Xiao.
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