"Zhonghua," Ah Yu's voice choked with emotion, "Are you...?"
"Is it something?" Zhong Hua's gaze fell on his face, with a faint smile.
Ah Yu suddenly couldn't speak. Those unspoken words, like this stack of postcards, were hidden in time, yet they were clearer than any language.
The tacit understanding at the dining table
When Lin Wanqing pushed the door open, she saw Ah Yu and Zhong Hua squatting on the floor, laughing around a pile of postcards. "What are you two doing? Did you find a treasure?" She put down the milk tea she was holding on the table, bent down and picked up a postcard. "Oh, isn't this the scene from when we had hot pot last time? Zhong Hua, you drew me like a steamed bun."
The Lin Wanqing in the painting was indeed chubby, holding her chopsticks and fighting with Zhong Hua for the last piece of tripe, while A Yu laughed so hard she couldn't stand up straight. A Yu remembered that day when Lin Wanqing kept saying she wanted to lose weight, but ended up eating more than anyone else. Zhong Hua complained that she "lacked willpower" while putting tripe into her bowl.
"It looks quite like the painting," Ah Yu said with a smile.
“That’s right,” Zhong Hua raised an eyebrow, “I’ve practiced it secretly.”
Lin Wanqing flipped to the picture of the three people sitting around the dining table and suddenly winked mischievously: "Hey, do you guys remember the braised eggs in the university cafeteria? Zhong Hua always shared half of his with Ah Yu, and he even drew smiley faces on the eggshells. I knew something was off about you two back then."
Ah Yu's face felt a little hot. Of course he remembered that the braised eggs in the university cafeteria were always limited, and Zhong Hua would always magically take one extra and secretly slip it to him. The smiley face on the eggshell was crooked, but it always made him happy all day. Later, when they started working, they still kept the habit of sharing eggs. Lin Wanqing always said that this was their "egg ritual".
"I'll make tea eggs tomorrow," Ah Yu suddenly said, just like she did when she worked overtime last time.
“Okay,” Zhong Hua replied with a smile, “cook a few more, and bring two for Wanqing too.”
Lin Wanqing pretended to be angry and punched Zhong Hua: "Don't try to bribe me, I'm not getting involved in your 'egg ceremony'."
The three of them laughed and joked around, sunlight filtering through the blinds and casting dappled shadows on them. Ah Yu looked at Zhong Hua's profile and suddenly felt that this was a truly wonderful moment.
Misplaced warmth
Memories of the typhoon day suddenly flooded her mind. Ah Yu remembered that day when one of the ribs of her umbrella broke, and Zhong Hua gave her his black umbrella while she held Lin Wanqing's floral umbrella. The wind made the umbrellas flip and swirl, and Zhong Hua held the umbrella down with one hand and protected her camera bag with the other. Lin Wanqing was filming behind them, laughing and saying that Zhong Hua was a "walking flower garden."
When Ah Yu turned around, he saw Zhong Hua bending down to tighten the strap of his bag. Water droplets from the edge of the floral umbrella dripped onto his shoulder, like a string of silent stars. He didn't say anything at the time, but his heart felt warm.
“Zhong Hua,” Ah Yu suddenly spoke up, “Why didn’t you use your own umbrella during the typhoon last time?”
Zhong Hua was sorting through postcards when she heard this and looked up: "Your umbrella is broken, you can't get wet in the rain."
“Then you can share an umbrella with me,” Ah Yu said.
Zhong Hua's ears turned slightly red: "If two people share an umbrella, the camera bag will get wet."
Lin Wanqing chuckled to herself, "An excuse? I think someone just wants to show off in front of Ah Yu."
Zhong Hua glared at her but didn't retort. Ah Yu recalled the way Zhong Hua looked that day with the floral umbrella; though it was somewhat comical, it made him feel incredibly at ease. Just like in college, whenever it rained, Zhong Hua would always place an umbrella next to his desk in advance; just like now, his camera bag was always the first thing Zhong Hua would protect.
“Oh, right,” Lin Wanqing suddenly remembered something, “Last time when Ah Yu went to a photography exhibition in a neighboring city, the train was delayed by two hours. Zhong Hua stood under the streetlights for a long time and his scarf got all crooked.”
Ah Yu's heart skipped a beat. He remembered seeing Zhong Hua standing under a streetlamp in the distance when he got off the train that day, his thermos cup steaming in the air. When he ran over, Zhong Hua handed him the cup, saying, "I was worried you'd be cold when you got back, so I heated up the milk three times." At the time, he was only focused on drinking the milk and didn't notice that Zhong Hua's scarf was crooked. Now that he thought about it, he must have waited a long time.
"Why didn't you wait for my call?" Ah Yu asked.
"I was worried your phone would run out of battery," Zhong Hua said softly. "Besides, it won't hurt to wait a little while."
Ah Yu looked at Zhong Hua and suddenly felt a tightness in her throat. This person, who always silently gave to him, never said a word, yet gave him all his warmth.
Faded Polaroid
Zhong Hua suddenly remembered something, got up, and pulled a metal box from the top shelf of the bookshelf. Inside the box was a faded Polaroid photo of the sunset over Qinghai Lake, as red as molten gold.
“You said you’d take these photos for me back then,” he handed to Ah Yu. “You had a fever after you took the photos that day, and they’ve been tucked into your notebook ever since.”
Ah Yu touched the creases on the edge of the photo and suddenly remembered that when he was feeling dizzy, he always felt someone wiping his forehead with a wet towel. At the time, he thought it was his imagination, but now he realized it must have been Zhong Hua.
"Why didn't you give it to me sooner?" Ah Yu asked.
"I'm waiting for the right time," Zhong Hua smiled. "Now is just right."
Ah Yu looked at the photos, then at Zhong Hua, and suddenly felt his eyes well up with tears. He remembered that during their trip to Qinghai, Zhong Hua had an unnamed folder on his computer, filled with pictures of his profile—his nose reddened by the sun while holding a camera, his back as he squatted by the lake adjusting equipment, and even the downy hairs highlighted by the sunlight when he dozed off during a meeting. At the time, Zhong Hua said, "I just snapped these out of the window while taking pictures of the scenery," and he even jokingly asked, "You've been doing this for three years?" Now he understood that those photos contained Zhong Hua's heartfelt sentiments.
“Zhong Hua,” Ah Yu said softly, “thank you.”
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