On the second day of the second lunar month, the day of the Dragon Head Raising Festival, the weather finally cleared up.
Because it had rained for a week straight, the pedestrians hurrying along the streets were still bundled in winter down jackets; the bite of the late spring cold spell had not yet faded.
Early that morning, Xiao Zhou from Yu Mo’s team gave her a few small snacks that looked like flour-coated peanuts. They tasted sweet.
She whispered to Yu Mo, "Sister, I’m only giving these sugar beans to you, try some. Back in my hometown, we always eat sugar beans on this day for good luck."
The sugar beans made a crisp *crack-crunch* sound when bitten, offering a unique sort of enjoyment.
Yu Mo had a client coming in to sign a contract that afternoon, so she was busy all morning. She spent her time coordinating everyone’s schedules on her phone while preparing various written materials for printing and copying. By mid-morning, she hadn't even had a spare moment to take a sip of water.
It was then that she received a text message from Qi Shuai. Her hand shook so violently she could barely hold her phone.
When she rushed out of the elevator on the third floor of the city hospital, her face was masked in uncontrollable panic and dread. Her large eyes held the grey desolation of someone facing a catastrophe. People who saw her instinctively stepped aside to give her a clear path.
Qi Shuai was waiting for her by the elevator. His clothes were covered in putty powder and wood shavings; dust puffed off him with every movement. One could tell his line of work at a single glance.
Standing together, the two of them were like clouds and mud—worlds apart. No one would ever guess there was any connection between them.
There was a look of extreme, shell-shocked exhaustion on Qi Shuai’s sharp-featured face. He nodded to Yu Mo and led her toward the ward.
Yu Mo’s face was frozen stiff. She hadn't been able to catch a taxi outside her office building and had waited in the biting wind for twenty minutes in her cashmere coat. She was desperate to speak, but the muscles in her face refused to cooperate.
"How is he now? Is it life-threatening? What did the doctor say?"
Her eyes caught the sight of dried blood on Qi Shuai’s ash-white clothes. Her legs went weak.
"It’s not life-threatening, but he damaged the nerves in his left hand. The doctor said the most optimistic scenario is that he might recover seventy to eighty percent after surgery. If it doesn't go well... that hand is finished. Sister-in-law, you know what line of work we’re in. Losing a hand is as good as losing his life. My brother’s in a very bad state; I’m afraid he might do something reckless. I don't know which god he offended in this life, but he hasn't been given a single damn day of peace."
Because of the sudden change in temperature, Yu Mo’s hands began to itch with a piercing intensity. She clenched them into tight fists at her sides.
She took a deep breath. "It’s okay. As long as his life isn't in danger, nothing else matters. Don't worry, he still has me."
Qi Shuai stopped outside Ward 306. For once, he looked Yu Mo directly in the eyes. "My brother is inside. The doctor did some basic treatment, but now that the anesthesia has worn off, it probably hurts a lot. If he’s in a bad mood, please be patient with him. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. Even if you two have broken up, my brother was good to you once. Please, help him through this."
Only now did Yu Mo truly find her breath again. Half the weight on her heart lifted, and she realized she was drenched in a cold sweat, her limbs devoid of strength.
As long as he was alive, nothing else mattered.
She pushed open the pale yellow door.
The patients and family members who were awake looked up at her. Seeing a stranger, they lowered their heads and went back to their own business.
It was a large ward with six beds, three lined up against each wall.
At a glance, she saw Qi Lian lying on the first bed on the right.
He was lying flat on his back, his right hand draped over his eyes. His left hand rested at his side, an IV needle in the back of it, the entire palm wrapped in thick gauze.
Despite the cold weather, he was lying on top of the covers, wearing only a grey long-sleeved T-shirt and cargo pants. He lay there motionless, so thin that his stomach appeared sunken. He looked like a lonely, discarded wolf that had fallen out of step with the world.
When had he become so thin?
Yu Mo’s heart constricted, and tears surged uncontrollably.
He used to pick her up with ease, as if he had endless strength. When did he become this gaunt?
He was always saying "Don't be afraid," "Don't worry," "I'm here," "I have money," "I have strength." But did he feel fear too? Did he feel pain?
Just seeing him lying there in his loneliness was more than she could bear. She couldn't imagine what she would have done if he were gone today.
In that moment, she felt something within her soul shatter and shift.
How could she have ever thought she could leave him? That she could live a carefree life and never see him again?
Just looking at the silhouette of him lying there felt like a knife twisting in her vitals. How could she ever hope to control this fated sense of belonging!
She sobbed until her face was a mess of tears and snot.
The family member at the second bed watched the woman at the door crying like that and felt bewildered. No one in this ward had a terminal illness. He nudged his wife on the bed and gestured with his chin toward the door.
As if sensing something, Qi Lian lowered the arm covering his eyes and looked toward the door.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his lips were pale and peeling with dryness.
He seemed not to recognize Yu Mo at first. He stared blankly for a moment before saying softly, "Come here."
His voice was as raspy as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper.
Sobbing, Yu Mo moved to his bedside and crouched by his head.
Qi Lian turned his head to face her, his eyes filled with a weary helplessness. "I'm not dead. Why are you crying like this?"
Yu Mo reached out to touch his face. His skin had always been smooth, but now it was burning hot. She touched him like a rediscovered treasure—stroking his hair, his cheek, and then his dry lips.
"Does it hurt?"
Qi Lian’s gaze was deep. "It’s alright. I can handle it."
Yu Mo’s composure broke completely. He was always saying he was fine, that he wasn't afraid of hard work, that he could endure, that he didn't fear pain. But what mortal flesh was truly unafraid? He was always just enduring.
She leaned in to kiss his cheek and his dry lips. The heartache and longing within her were like a floodgate bursting open, a surging tide vowing to level everything in its path.
Qi Lian’s face was soon covered in her tears.
The people in the other beds stole glances at the young couple.
Qi Lian said softly to her, "Pull the curtain."
Yu Mo stood up, still sobbing, and pulled the bedside curtain shut.
The bed became a curved island of isolation, containing only him and her.
Qi Lian reached out with his healthy right hand, placed it on the back of Yu Mo’s head, and pulled her down into a kiss. He kissed her so hard her lips and tongue ached.
His lips and his breath were scorching.
Only when Yu Mo was breathless did he pull back slightly, whispering against her forehead, "Don't cry. It’s nothing."
"Don't be afraid," she said through her sobs. "Even if your hand is completely ruined, I can support you. I earn enough every month for both of us now, and we have the apartment to rent out. In the future, you’ll just have to cook at home."
"Didn't you say last time you were getting back together with your ex-husband? How are you going to support me?"
Yu Mo pushed him back, wanting to explain, but when she saw the glimmer of a smile in his eyes, she froze.
Qi Lian used his right palm to wipe the tears from her face. "Have you figured it out yet? I wanted you to say it yourself, but seeing you cry made my head go fuzzy. Forget it, forget it. But what you say yourself has to count."
Yu Mo’s lip trembled, and she lunged forward to hug him.
Qi Lian quietly moved his left hand further away; in truth, the pain was making a cold sweat break out across his back.
"Qi Lian."
"Yeah."
"I love you."
Qi Lian seemed to freeze.
How long had he waited for this day?
Waiting for her to fall in love with him, and then waiting for her to say it... it had been like being in a dark, endless tunnel where the exit was never in sight. Finally, he saw the light, but the dream felt increasingly surreal.
He lowered his head and kissed the top of her head.
"I know," he said plainly.
"You know? How do you know? Since when?"
"Earlier than you did. I have eyes to see and a heart to feel. I’m not an idiot; I can tell if a woman loves me or not."
"Then... then why were you so cold to me last time? And you even found a girlfriend!"
"Get up first, my clothes are dirty."
He waited for her to lift her head before continuing. "Then use your brain. Why would a man who used to treat you like a precious treasure suddenly act so cold? And if he were truly cold, why would he rush to take care of you overnight like his feet were on fire, unable to wait even a second? If a man truly has a new love, he doesn't have that much deep affection or that much of a conscience left for the old one. Don't tell me the men you know are all that selfless and devoted. If I were told my flesh could cure your illness, I wouldn't hesitate for a second; I’d cut off as much as you needed. A man only does this for one reason—don't you understand, or have you just never thought about it?"
"Because you found a new girlfriend but felt guilty? I don't know, I understand you less and less."
"You dummy! With you, I started by baring my heart and soul, laying myself out before you. But I realized that wouldn't work. I spoiled you. You took my kindness for granted. Without some strong medicine, you wouldn't see yourself clearly."
"Then what about your girlfriend?"
Qi Lian looked at her with an unreadable expression for a moment, then whispered, "I’ll show you something. Pull down my pants."
Yu Mo stared at him, unmoving.
"Hurry up. I’m not being a pervert. It’s not like looking will cost you anything."
Yu Mo reached out and pulled down his waistband. Then, she saw the answer. She raised her hand, wanting to touch it but not daring to.
Tears fell once more.
"It’s so ugly!"
"Damn it! Ugly or not, it’s yours! You could have picked the design yourself, but you missed your chance. Still, it’s better than tattooing those two characters of yours, right?"
He added:
"Come here, kiss it. I told you I could tattoo your name, and no one could take it away. It’s always been yours."
"Then... what about that young girl people were talking about?"
***
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