Want to Have a Relationship with You | Chapter 17 | A Bittersweet Light | Novela.app

Su Jingming had never imagined that Su Qicheng suffered from schizophrenia. Yet, he wasn’t entirely surprised; in a way, it felt like something he should have expected all along. What did surprise him was that Wen Yan had used his own body as a cushion, holding him tight as they tumbled down the stairs. The doctor said Wen Yan had a mild concussion and needed to be kept under observation for a few days. Su Jingming sat silently by Wen Yan’s hospital bed. The feeling was hauntingly familiar; not long ago, he had been in this exact position, watching over Wen Yan. Wen Miao had been the first to arrive. Wen Yan’s parents were away on a business trip and didn’t make it back until nearly evening. Wen Miao told her parents that Wen Yan had accidentally tripped down the stairs, making no mention of the Su family. Su Jingming felt a sharp, bitter ache in his chest. He desperately wanted to speak up and tell the truth, but seeing the concerned eyes of Wen Yan’s parents as they focused entirely on their son, he found himself at a loss for words. When Su Jingming stepped out of the room, Wen Miao followed him. She glanced at his pale face. "Honestly, you look like you’re about to collapse yourself, yet you insist on staying here to watch over my brother. If he wakes up and sees you like this, he’ll just feel guilty again." Su Jingming pulled at the corners of his mouth, unable to muster a smile. His voice was raspy. "I’m the one who should be feeling guilty." Wen Miao gave a noncommittal hum and arched an eyebrow. "It’s fine. I won’t tell my parents the truth. Don’t beat yourself up too much; my brother did this because he wanted to return the favor." She paused. "For when you saved me back then." Su Jingming pressed his lips together, his tongue darting out to lick his dry lips. After a long silence, he finally managed to whisper, "Thank you." Wen Miao waved it off dismissively. "No need. It’s only right. Go back to your ward and get some rest." Su Jingming didn’t go straight back to his room. Instead, he turned and headed for the psychiatric department. After identifying himself as Su Qicheng’s son, a skeptical nurse led him to the door of his father’s ward. There was a large glass observation window between the room and the hallway. From the outside, one could see everything within, but those inside could not see out. Su Qicheng seemed to be in a bad state, his entire body restrained to the hospital bed. He looked like a normal person as he frowned, his limbs struggling against the straps. The nurse said, "He looks lucid now. Do you want to go in and talk to him?" Talk? What was there to say? Only a few hours ago, the man lying on that bed had kicked him down a flight of stairs. His throat felt parched. Ultimately, he shook his head. "I’ll just watch him from here for a bit." The nurse couldn’t quite understand his reaction. "Then you can only stay for a little while." "Thank you for your help." Su Jingming stood outside the ward for a full fifteen minutes. The pain radiating from his abdomen to the rest of his body throbbed relentlessly. *Look at that,* he thought. *The man in that room is sick.* *It’s because he’s sick that he treated you this way.* Wasn’t it pathetic? To harbor resentment for so many years, only for it to end like this. Did he even have the right to be resentful anymore? Su Jingming sat on a nearby bench, burying his face in his hands. He couldn’t find any words to comfort himself; his heart was overflowing with a sense of profound grievance. He had spent so many years trying to accept the changes in Su Qicheng. He had spent so many years brainwashing himself. *This is what I deserve to endure. I can’t blame anyone else.* But he had never felt this wronged before. Su Jingming pulled his phone from the pocket of his hospital gown. He opened his contacts and found a number he hadn't dialed in years. He pressed call. The sound of the ringing on the other end felt eerie in the silent corridor. Just as the light in Su Jingming’s eyes began to dim, thinking it would go unanswered as it always had, a voice spoke. "Hello?" The call connected. A woman’s soft, gentle voice came through the line. Su Jingming dazed for a moment. It had been so long since he’d heard Cheng Hui’s voice that he had almost forgotten what it sounded like. "Is that Jingming?" Su Jingming’s voice was thick. "Mom." Cheng Hui seemed surprised that he was calling. She walked out onto her balcony, her eyes reflecting the questioning look of her current husband. "What’s wrong?" She asked the question flatly, as if she were speaking to a stranger. Su Jingming froze. He wanted to laugh, but the sound wouldn't come. He rasped, "Dad is sick." "I see," Cheng Hui said thoughtfully. "Is it that you don't have enough money?" Su Jingming was silent for a moment. "We have enough." Cheng Hui seemed to breathe a sigh of relief over the phone. She said in a gentle tone, "If your father is sick, take good care of him. He’s reached the age where all those little aches and pains from his youth start catching up to him." "Yeah, I know," Su Jingming said, looking at Su Qicheng, who had already fallen asleep on the bed. The glass reflected his own image sitting on the bench—draped in a loose, oversized hospital gown, looking as though he were fading away. Su Jingming suddenly felt pathetic, and utterly ridiculous. Cheng Hui said a few more things after that, but Su Jingming didn't hear them. The only thing that registered was the voice of a little girl near his mother. The child was calling out in a milky voice, "Mama." She sounded so spoiled and loved. He hadn't even known he had a half-sister. *** It was ten o'clock by the time Su Jingming returned to his ward. Lying on the cold hospital bed, every cell in his body felt devoid of warmth, unable to heat his frame or his heart. He tucked the covers tightly around himself, but waves of cold continued to wash over him. He couldn't tell if it was his heart that was cold or his body. The patient in the bed next to him was an elderly man in his seventies, very warm and friendly. Seeing Su Jingming return and bury himself under the covers without a word, the old man took an apple from his bedside cabinet. He climbed out of bed with trembling movements and walked over, his thin, withered hand gently patting the quilt. "Would you like an apple?" Su Jingming pulled the covers down and saw the kindness in the old man’s eyes. He paused for a second before sitting up. "Thank you." The old man smiled. "My grandson is about your age." Su Jingming held the apple in his hands. Before he could speak, the old man added, "Children your age should be happy." Su Jingming’s grip on the apple tightened. His gaze softened, and he smiled at the old man. "Okay." *** The next morning, Su Jingming went to the hospital cafeteria early to buy breakfast. He handed a portion to the nurses in the psychiatric department, then turned and carried Wen Yan’s portion to his ward. Just as he was about to knock, the door opened from the inside. It was Wen Yan’s father. Mr. Wen looked surprised to see him, then glanced at the breakfast in his hand. "Young man, you don't need to be so polite. Wen Yan just woke up." Hearing that Wen Yan was awake, Su Jingming felt a weight lift from his chest. "I'm sorry for disturbing you so early, Uncle." Mr. Wen stepped aside to let him in. Wen Yan was propped up in bed, a bandage wrapped around his head. His eyes were full of a lazy sort of amusement. In a low, slightly deep voice, he said, "Morning, Su Jingming." Su Jingming felt his fingertips go numb. Under the gaze of everyone in the room, he placed the breakfast on the bedside table. Wen Yan’s parents had some impression of Su Jingming; before Wen Miao arrived yesterday, it seemed this boy had been the one guarding Wen Yan’s side. Mrs. Wen stood up, vacating her seat. "Here, have a seat." Su Jingming shook his head, remaining where he stood. Mr. Wen walked over to his wife. "We need to head home for a bit, and Wen Miao can't make it over yet. Could you stay with Wen Yan for a while?" Su Jingming blinked, then nodded. Faced with the sudden trust from Wen Yan’s parents, he felt a sense of unreality. Wen Yan watched him with a half-smile, taking in the confusion in Su Jingming’s eyes. Before long, only Wen Yan and Su Jingming were left in the room. Wen Yan was the first to let out a soft chuckle. "What are you still standing there for? Are you going to sit or not?" Su Jingming pursed his lips. Even though the words sounded a bit strange, he obediently sat down, looking utterly restless. He fidgeted with his fingers, then rubbed the hair near his ear. He didn't know how to start. What was he supposed to say? Wen Yan seemed to be waiting patiently for him to speak. They sat in silence for several minutes. The corners of Wen Yan’s mouth curled into a silent smile. He asked, "What's wrong?" Su Jingming suddenly felt an indescribable emotion consuming his heart, like tens of thousands of ants nibbling away. A tingling, numbing sensation scratched at his heart, bit by bit. It was agonizing. "...Um, I..." Su Jingming stammered. For as long as he could remember, he had never felt this insecure. Especially since becoming a fan of Tiga, he usually carried a strange sense of confidence. "Hmm?" Wen Yan remained patient. "Wen Yan, I'm sor—" Before he could finish, Wen Yan cut him off. He picked up one of the buns Su Jingming had brought and took small bites. "Not bad. Plenty of filling." Su Jingming’s apology was forced back down his throat. Once Wen Yan finished the bun, Su Jingming was quick to hand him a tissue to wipe his mouth. With a glint of a smile in his eyes, Wen Yan softly thanked him. Suddenly, Wen Yan looked at him seriously. "Stand up." "?" Confusion filled Su Jingming’s eyes, but he did as he was told. "Turn around." "???" Su Jingming blinked, then turned in a stiff circle like a robot. Wen Yan suppressed a laugh. "Turn again?" Su Jingming paused. "What are you doing?" "Checking to see if you’re hurt anywhere else." Wen Yan looked satisfied seeing that Su Jingming’s limbs were all intact. "If you ended up with a broken arm or leg, how would you save the world later?" Hearing this, Su Jingming lowered his eyes, the guilt resurfacing in his heart. Wen Yan seemed to sense his thoughts and turned his gaze toward the window. "Little Hero." He didn't know when it had happened, but those two words had become Wen Yan’s exclusive nickname for him. At the very least, Su Jingming didn't dislike it; in fact, it made him quite happy. Because of those words, Su Jingming felt a small sense of belonging. "You are the light." Wen Yan didn't know exactly what was going on in Su Jingming’s home, but seeing Su Qicheng strike out so ruthlessly, he figured Su Jingming’s life must be very difficult. He suddenly understood why Su Jingming loved Tiga so much. He thought that perhaps, in Su Jingming’s world, Tiga was his light. The light that kept him going. In that moment, a bold thought took root in Wen Yan’s mind. He wanted to become Su Jingming’s light—the light he couldn't live without. *** Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation ---|---|--- 精神分裂症 | Schizophrenia | The medical diagnosis given to Su Qicheng. 迪迦 | Tiga | Refers to Ultraman Tiga, a symbol of light and justice for the MC. 小英雄 | Little Hero | Wen Yan's nickname for Su Jingming. 程慧 | Cheng Hui | Su Jingming's mother.