Zhou Jingchen quietly removed the bedsheets and duvet cover from the bed, planning to sneak them away to wash.
Perhaps he was too flustered. When he got out of bed, he accidentally kicked the bed frame with a loud bang, which happened to wake the girl on the other side of the curtain.
Wen Xi rubbed her eyes. Holding back the urge to pee, she sat up in a daze, slipping on her slippers as she prepared to go to the bathroom.
She saw Zhou Jingchen holding the bedsheets in his arms. Raising a hand to point at him, she yawned lazily, her voice slightly hoarse from just waking up.
“Why are you holding the bedsheets so early in the morning?”
“Nothing,” Zhou Jingchen replied, his thin lips pressed into a straight line. He didn’t dare look at her. His mind was in complete chaos.
Wen Xi blinked several times quickly. Then she smiled meaningfully and walked over to him, putting her hands on her hips.
“Oh~ I know now. You wet the bed, didn’t you?”
“Oh my gosh—Zhou Jingchen actually wet the bed!”
As if she had discovered some huge secret, she walked toward the door with an exaggerated expression of shock.
“I’m going to tell my parents that you’re this old and you still wet the bed!”
Zhou Jingchen quickly grabbed her and pulled her back. His neck turned red with panic.
“Don’t, Wen Xi!”
Wen Xi pursed her lips in amusement. Turning back, she looked at him smugly.
“If you want to keep my mouth shut, shouldn’t you give me something in return?”
“I’ll give you all my allowance for next week,” Zhou Jingchen said.
She seized the chance greedily.“And the week after that. And the week after that too. All of it.”
Wen Xi had always been jealous that Zhou Jingchen received double allowance every week—one portion from Grandpa Zhou, and another extra portion from her own parents. She had been incredibly envious.
Zhou Jingchen lowered his head, his cheeks still burning.
“Alright.”
Seeing that his face was practically buried in the ground, Wen Xi stood on her tiptoes and patted his shoulder comfortingly.
“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.”
She even made a gesture of zipping her little mouth shut.
Throughout the entire day, Zhou Jingchen was distracted in class.
It was a bright spring noon, with pleasant weather and warm sunshine.
The lunch break was long, and after eating, everyone went out to play on the playground.
The girls jumped rubber bands or played beanbag tossing.The boys squatted on the ground playing fangbao—flipping over someone else’s paper tile meant you could claim it as your own. Others played chicken fighting, hopping on one leg and trying to knock each other down.
Wen Xi was jumping rubber bands with a few girls she was close to. She wanted Zhou Jingchen to stand there and help hold the rubber band, but he refused.
When they were younger in their courtyard, Wen Xi often made him and Fang Haoyu help hold the rubber band.
She would happily jump while chanting,
“Ma-lian flowers bloom twenty-one, two-eight two-five six, two-eight two-five seven…”
Fang Haoyu would hold it for a while but soon get bored and run off to play something else. Wen Xi would then loop the other end of the rubber band around a broken wooden stump and keep jumping.
Later, when Zhou Jingchen grew older, he realized that rubber-band jumping was something girls played. Boys were supposed to play soccer, chicken fighting, fangbao, throw firecrackers, or shoot marbles.
Helping her hold the rubber band at home was fine. But at school, with so many classmates watching, Zhou Jingchen didn’t want to.
“Come on, let’s hold it ourselves.”
Seeing that he was unwilling, Wen Xi didn’t insist. Zhou Jingchen was always like this—putting on airs at school.
She’d deal with him later at home.
Not far away, Fang Haoyu was playing chicken fighting and had already knocked several boys over.
The playground was filled with laughter and shouting.
Holding his Chinese textbook, Zhou Jingchen quietly walked over and sat beneath the flagpole.
Because of his physical condition, he could never truly blend into the group of children.
In the class, only three or four kids from nearby residential compounds who had grown up close to him were willing to play with him.
But at that age, they were all still children. Few people could fully consider his feelings. Most of the time, he felt lonely.
Usually, he either held a book or sat at his desk at home working on small handicrafts.
He had a skill—wood carving. His grandfather had taught him.
Grandpa Zhou once said that when he worked night shifts alone guarding the boiler room, he passed the time by carving wood.
In Grandpa Zhou’s room, there were many wooden carvings—small houses, boats, flowers, and all kinds of shapes—each one vivid and lifelike.
Grandpa Zhou once told him:
“Jingchen, even though your left leg can’t run or jump, your hands and brain are still very capable. Your eyes still see clearly. That doesn’t stop you from studying or carving wood.
Wood carving requires great concentration. Look how beautifully you carve. Your classmates can’t do it—not because they’re incapable, but because they’re tempted by too many distractions. They can’t calm their minds to focus on something like this.”
Above him, the national flag fluttered proudly in the wind.
Zhou Jingchen sat on the steps, concentrating on memorizing his text, occasionally lifting his head to glance at Wen Xi.
Her ponytail swayed back and forth as she jumped. When she laughed, she always looked sly, mischievous, and bold.
No one had more tricks than her. No one was as carefree and thick-skinned as she was.
Closing his book, Zhou Jingchen thought to himself:
Maybe I should move back to Grandpa Zhou’s place.
After finishing his round of chicken fighting, Fang Haoyu walked over, tired, and sat beside him.
Leaning close, he whispered,“I heard from Wen Xi that you wet the bed last night?”
Zhou Jingchen’s mind buzzed loudly.
His lips moved, but he couldn’t say anything for a long time.
I knew it.
There was no way she could keep a secret. Calling herself tight-lipped was a joke. If something came out of her mouth without extra embellishment, that would already be a miracle.
Still, compared to that, Zhou Jingchen found the bed-wetting rumor easier to accept.
He didn’t get angry. He just said to Fang Haoyu,
“If you’re really my brother, don’t spread it around.”
Fang Haoyu patted him.
“Relax. Do you think I’m a big mouth like Wen Xi?”
But less than a week later, the entire class knew about it.
After school that evening, Zhou Jingchen walked with his crutches to his house on the north side. Grandpa Zhou had left early that day, and the door was locked.
Wen Xi asked curiously,
“Grandpa Zhou is on night shift today. Aren’t you sleeping there?”
Zhou Jingchen took out his key and unlocked the door. With his back to her, he shook his head, his voice low.
“No. I’m not going. Your snoring at night is too loud.”
Wen Xi immediately stormed over to him, raising her voice.
“What did you say?!”
“I said I’m sleeping by myself tonight. Go home first. I’ll come over later to help you with tutoring.”
His tone was a bit cold. Wen Xi sensed it and found it inexplicable. She snorted and turned away angrily.
Zhou Jingchen entered the house and turned on the light.
His home with Grandpa Zhou was simple and tidy. The living room wall was covered with his certificates—Outstanding Student, Three-Good Student, and other honors.
He returned to his room, set down his schoolbag, and took out his homework.
At around seven in the evening, urgent knocking sounded from the window outside.
Bang bang bang.
“My mom told you to come eat!”
The voice was crisp and pleasant, though still tinged with annoyance.
Zhou Jingchen paused his writing and walked over with his crutches to the opposite house.
When he pushed the door open, warmth immediately filled the air.
Soft white incandescent lights illuminated the room, and the table was filled with steaming dishes.
Xiang Qin had made cola chicken wings, two vegetable dishes, and sweet-potato rice porridge.
Zhou Jingchen sat across from Wen Xi and glanced at her.
He wanted to say something. His mouth opened slightly, but in the end, he said nothing.
Xiang Qin looked at her daughter, then at Zhou Jingchen. Seeing that neither child spoke, she guessed the two kids had had a small quarrel.