Sudden rain and cracks
The October rain came suddenly. During the morning exercise break, a few osmanthus blossoms were still falling, but by the time school was over, it had turned into a downpour. Large raindrops pounded against the windowpanes, making a pattering sound, and the whole world was shrouded in a gray, misty fog.
I stood hesitantly at the studio door, clutching the sketch I had just finished. I hadn't checked the weather forecast when I left home this morning, and I hadn't brought an umbrella. Zheng Yiming had gone to a last-minute meeting for the physics competition that afternoon and should have left long ago.
Just as he was about to grit his teeth and rush into the rain, a black umbrella suddenly appeared overhead. "Have you been waiting long?" Zheng Yiming's voice came from behind the umbrella, slightly out of breath, his school uniform shoulder was soaked, as if he had just run through the rain.
"Why didn't you leave?" I was taken aback, looking at his forehead wet with rain.
"I guessed you didn't bring an umbrella." He tilted the umbrella mostly towards me, leaving half of his body exposed to the rain. "The meeting ended early, so I'll wait for you here."
The space under the umbrella was small, and I could smell the faint scent of soap on him, mixed with the crispness of the rain. We walked side by side toward the school gate, our rain boots splashing through the puddles. "How did the competition go?" I asked.
"Well, we added a new type of question, which is a bit tricky." He smiled. "But we've figured out a solution, and I'll tell you about it later."
"good."
As we reached the fork in the road near the school gate, he suddenly said, "Let's go to my house. It's close by, so I can explain some problems to you and we can also take shelter from the rain."
I froze, my heart skipped a beat. Go to his house? A lone man and woman, especially on a rainy day like this… “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“My parents are both home,” he said, noticing my hesitation. “My mom said she wanted to thank you for the osmanthus flowers you gave me last time. She made a cake with them and asked me to bring it to you. You can go and get it yourself.”
The rain was still falling, showing no sign of stopping. His eyes were sincere, as if he had no ulterior motives. I hesitated for a moment, then nodded: "Then... thank you."
His home was in an old-style residential building near the school, with red bricks paving the stairwell and neighborhood rules hanging on the walls. His mother was very welcoming. When she opened the door, she was holding a freshly made osmanthus cake. When she saw me, she smiled and stuffed it into my hand: "Try it, the osmanthus that Zhixia brought is so fragrant."
The sweetness of the pastries mingled with the fragrance of osmanthus, warming my heart. Zheng Yiming's father was sitting in the living room reading the newspaper. He looked up and smiled at me as a greeting, then looked back down at the newspaper. The atmosphere was gentle and not awkward at all.
His room was by the balcony; it wasn't big, but it was very tidy. A tall stack of exercise books piled on his desk, physics competition certificates adorned the wall, and a potted green ivy sat on the windowsill, its leaves gleaming. "Make yourself at home," he said, placing my sketchbook on the easel and turning to get the competition questions. "Shall I explain that new question type to you first?"
"Um."
He sat at the desk, and I sat on the edge of the bed, half a meter apart. The rain pattered against the balcony glass, and his voice was clear and gentle as his fingertips drew complex circuit diagrams on the draft paper. I listened intently, but something felt off—he was too close, and his warm breath occasionally brushed against the back of my hand, like a feather gently stroking it.
"Do you understand this?" He turned his head, his nose almost touching my forehead, his eyes filled with focused doubt.
"Ah... I understand." I hurriedly stepped back, my cheeks burning, my heart pounding in my chest.
He seemed oblivious to my odd behavior and continued explaining until he finished a problem, at which point he noticed I'd been daydreaming. "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"
"No." I lowered my head, not daring to look at him. "It's just... I'm a little tired."
"Then take a break." He got up to pour some water. "My mom made some osmanthus tea, you can try it."
The moment he left, I breathed a sigh of relief, yet felt a void in my heart. I picked up a physics magazine from the table and flipped through it. The cover featured a photo of him participating in a competition, wearing a white shirt, smiling cleanly, like the early autumn sunshine.
When he returned with the tea, he was carrying a photo frame, which he placed in front of me: "This is a photo of me when I was little, isn't it ugly?"
The little boy in the photo frame was chubby, sitting on the slide with ice cream on his lips; he certainly didn't look like his current slender self. I couldn't help but laugh: "He's quite cute."
He smiled too, and sat down next to me on the edge of the bed, so close I could feel his body heat. “When I was little, I was always sick, and my parents took me to many places to get better. Back then, I felt that physics could explain a lot of things, including the human body, so I started to like it.”
"That's pretty impressive." I looked at him and suddenly felt that the distance between us had shortened a lot. All the past barriers and awkwardness had slowly faded away in the sound of the rain.
He turned to me and looked at me earnestly: "Zhi Xia, I know you've suffered a lot of injustices in the past. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, and I won't let you suffer anymore."
His eyes were bright, like they were filled with stars, and his tone was so serious it wasn't a joke. My heart skipped a beat, the blood seemed to rush to my head, and my ears were ringing. "I..."
“I’m not joking.” He leaned forward, his voice lowering, tinged with a barely perceptible nervousness. “From the first time I saw you painting in the studio, I…”
"Zheng Yiming!" I suddenly interrupted him, stood up abruptly, and took two steps back. "We...we're friends, right?"
He froze, the light in his eyes dimming little by little, like a flame extinguished by rain. "A friend?"
"Mmm." I clenched my fist, my nails digging into my palm. "We are very good friends, like...like Lin Xi and Meng Meng."
After saying that, I felt guilty. I didn't really mean it, but I don't know why I said it. Maybe it was fear—fear that this sudden attraction would end up hurting me, like previous relationships; fear that I wasn't good enough for someone so pure; fear that once we crossed that line, we wouldn't even be able to be friends.
He remained silent for a long time, so long that even the sound of the rain became exceptionally clear. Then he slowly stood up, nodded, and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "Yes, they're friends."
But in his eyes, there was a sense of loss I couldn't understand, like the moon obscured by dark clouds.
The atmosphere became incredibly awkward for the rest of the time. He didn't mention the competition questions again, and I didn't say anything either. Only the sound of rain pattering in my ears made me feel uneasy. When his mother came in to bring fruit, she probably noticed something was wrong and tried to smooth things over with a smile: "Was Yiming's explanation of the questions too boring? If Zhixia is tired, you should go home early. I'll have Yiming take you."
"Okay." I felt relieved and immediately stood up. "Goodbye, Auntie. Thank you for the osmanthus cake."
You're welcome, come visit often!
Zheng Yiming picked up the umbrella and silently followed behind me. As we went downstairs, no one spoke; only the sound of footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, like the knocking of something.
As we reached the entrance of the residential area, the rain lessened, turning into a light drizzle. He opened his umbrella and handed it to me, saying, "I'll walk you to the alley entrance."
"No need, the rain isn't heavy, I can manage on my own." I took the umbrella, not daring to look at him. "Thank you for today..."
"You're welcome." He stood in the rain, the streetlights casting long shadows on him, making him look so lonely it was heartbreaking. "Well... I'll go back now."
"Um."
I turned and walked into the rain. The umbrella blocked my view, but I could feel his gaze fixed on my back, heavy as if it weighed me down. When I reached the alley entrance, I couldn't help but look back. He was still standing there, like a silent statue. The rain soaked his hair and clothes, but he seemed oblivious.
My heart felt heavy, like something was blocking it. Had I done something wrong? I shouldn't have said those things; I shouldn't have hurt him.
But once the words are spoken, they are like water spilled; they cannot be taken back.
When I got home, my mother saw that I looked distraught and asked, "What happened? Did you get caught in the rain?"
"No." I locked myself in my room and looked at the osmanthus jar on my desk. Suddenly, I felt that the sweet fragrance had become a bit cloying, even a bit pungent.
Lying in bed at night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The rain tapped against the window, as if repeating the conversation we had just had. The disappointment in his eyes, his hoarse words, "We're friends," pierced my heart like needles, making it hard to breathe.
Am I too timid? Am I so afraid of losing that I don't even dare to have anything?
The rain was still falling outside the window, pattering softly, like it was crying. I hugged my pillow, and for the first time, I began to doubt whether I had really done something wrong.
Perhaps some opportunities, once missed, can never be regained.
And the rift between him and me, which had just been mended, seemed to have quietly reopened amidst the sound of the rain.
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