The blazing heat of August.
Honk! Honk!
The shrill of cicadas mixed with wave after wave of car horns, echoing over the crowded street. Scorching sunlight baked the gray-brown asphalt, heat shimmering off it until the whole street seemed to warp.
Under one of the few patches of shade by the roadside, a group of young men clustered together, cigarettes dangling from their lips as they waited for the light to change.
Suddenly, one of them, mid-drag, seemed to notice something. He let out a soft "huh," his gaze settling on a corner of the street.
"Ah Nuo, what are you looking at?" the companion beside him asked.
The young man called Ah Nuo stared blankly at the street corner for a long moment before he spoke. "Tell me... how does a blind person cross the road?"
His companion froze, hesitated a moment, then answered slowly, "Generally speaking, blind people go out with someone looking after them, or a guide dog leading the way. In a more modern city, the crosswalks have voice announcements at the lights. Worst case, maybe they inch across bit by bit using sound and their white cane?"
Ah Nuo shook his head. "And what if there's no one looking after him, no guide dog, no voice announcements—and his white cane is being used to carry peanut oil?"
"...You think you're funny?"
His companion rolled his eyes and followed Ah Nuo's gaze. The next moment, he froze on the spot.
There, at the diagonal corner of the intersection, stood a teenage boy in a black T-shirt. Thick loops of black satin were wound around his eyes, sealing out every trace of light.
His left hand carried a cheap shopping bag stuffed full of vegetables. His right hand gripped a white cane slung over his shoulder like a carrying pole—and dangling from the end of that cane, a huge jug of golden peanut oil glittered in the sunlight.
Eyes bound in black satin, cane over his shoulder, vegetables in his left hand, oil hanging off his right...
The sheer absurdity of the picture instantly drew the attention of a wave of onlookers.
"Hey, look. That guy's so weird."
"With that much cloth over his eyes, can he even see the road?"
"Didn't you see the white cane in his hand? He's blind, obviously."
"What era are we living in? Blind people basically all wear sunglasses now. Who wraps their eyes in satin in this heat? Isn't he suffocating?"
"Right? And have you ever seen a blind man who doesn't walk with his cane, and uses it to haul stuff instead?"
"Kids these days really know how to have fun."
"..."
Even the summer cicadas couldn't drown out the whispers of the passersby. They eyed the boy with open curiosity, quietly debating whether he was really blind or just faking it, watching the blinking red light with a hint of anticipation.
Just then, a clear, bright voice sounded beside the boy.
"Gege, can I help you cross the street?"
It was a little girl in a school uniform, twelve or thirteen years old, a few crystal beads of sweat on her cheeks. Her big, dark eyes watched the boy with worry—pure and simple.
The boy paused slightly, turned his head toward the girl, and a faint smile rose at the corner of his mouth.
"Mm."
He hooked the vegetable bag onto his right hand, freed up his left to wipe the sweat on the hem of his shirt, and gently took the little girl's hand.
Click!
The light turned green.
The boy stepped forward, walking with the little girl toward the other side of the road.
The girl was nervous, glancing left and right at the cars on both sides, her steps small and timid.
As for the boy... he walked perfectly steady.
To everyone watching, the scene didn't look like a kind-hearted girl leading a blind man across the road. It looked like a big brother walking a little kid across the street.
The road wasn't wide. In a dozen seconds or so, the two of them reached the other side. The boy said thank you to the little girl, then walked off toward a secluded alley without looking back.
"He's not blind," Ah Nuo said with certainty, watching the whole thing. "He can definitely see."
One of the young men behind Ah Nuo propped his chin on one hand, deep in thought. Then, as if something had clicked, he exclaimed in sudden realization:
"I get it! He's cosplaying the Blind Monk!"
SLAP!
A big palm smacked crisply against the back of his head. Ah Nuo swore at him, "You idiot. Video games all day, every day. Who the fuck cosplays the Blind Monk in the middle of the street with nothing better to do? You got a death wish?"
He paused for two seconds, then muttered quietly, "Besides... the Blind Monk's blindfold is red. The cosplay isn't even accurate."
"Ah Nuo, you're one to talk..."
"Shut it."
"Okay."
While the two of them bickered, another young man who had stayed silent the whole time watched the boy's departing back, his brow slightly furrowed.
"What's up?" Ah Nuo noticed his gaze.
"I know him."
"You know him?"
"Yeah." The young man nodded. "Back when my cousin was in elementary school, I heard there was a student at his school who had some kind of accident. Something went wrong with his eyes—he could only keep them wrapped in black satin. Supposedly he had mental problems too..."
"Mental problems?" Ah Nuo blinked, thinking back carefully over what he'd just seen. "He looked fine to me."
"That was all ten years ago. Maybe he's recovered by now. But it was a pretty big deal at the time. Within days the kid dropped out. I heard he transferred to a special school for the blind."
At that point, another one of them cut in eagerly, "So what actually happened? What kind of accident makes someone go blind and lose their mind? Don't tell me he ran into something evil?"
"No idea." He paused. "But... I heard it was something even more ridiculous than that."
"Poor soul." Ah Nuo sighed. "What's his name?"
"I think it was, Lin... Lin... Lin Qiye?"
...
In the glow of sunset, Lin Qiye pushed open the door.
Almost instantly, the aroma of cooking drifted from inside and slipped into his nose. He sniffed, swallowed, and carried his bags into the house.
Creak!
The old door let out a piercing squeal that drowned out the sizzle of stir-frying from the kitchen. A middle-aged woman pushed open the kitchen door, and when she saw Lin Qiye laden with bags big and small, she cried out and hurried over.
"Xiao Qi, why did you haul back so much in one trip again?" The woman wiped her hands on her apron and rushed to take the bags from him, fussing all the while.
"A jug of peanut oil this big? You child—did you go wasting the government allowance again?"
"Auntie, the government's disability allowance is meant for living expenses. Using it to buy oil is putting it to good use." Lin Qiye smiled.
"Nonsense. That money is saved for your university. How can you throw it around? I'm telling you, what Auntie earns working is enough to feed the three of us. Keep your own money in your pocket."
Auntie wiped the oil jug down carefully with her hand, her expression a little pained, and muttered under her breath, "Such a big jug, and brand-name too... that must have cost a fortune."
Before Lin Qiye could say anything, she suddenly caught on to something else.
"Wait... this much stuff—how did you carry it all home?"
"Oh, I ran into a few kind people on the way. They helped me carry it back," Lin Qiye said evenly.
"Good, that's good. Seems there are still more good people than bad in this world... Did you thank them properly?"
"I did." Lin Qiye changed the subject. "Auntie, where's Ah Jin?"
"He's on the balcony doing homework... Oh, right, the doctor from the mental asylum is here for your annual checkup. He's resting in the room. Go let him have a look at you. Auntie will go finish cooking and call you when it's ready."
Lin Qiye's steps paused ever so slightly. He gave a soft "oh," turned, and walked toward the bedroom.
...
"Hello, I'm a doctor from Sunshine Mental Asylum. My surname is Li."
Seeing Lin Qiye push the door open and enter, the young man sitting on the small stool in the bedroom stood up and spoke gently. He wore a large pair of black-framed glasses and looked mild and bookish.
Lin Qiye raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. "Didn't Dr. Han always come before?"
"Dr. Han was promoted to vice-director last year." Dr. Li smiled, a trace of envy flickering in his eyes.
Lin Qiye nodded slightly and gave another soft "oh."
Fair enough. Dr. Han was getting on in years and his skills were superb; a promotion to vice-director was no surprise. Naturally a younger doctor would be sent for his periodic checkups instead.
Once Lin Qiye sat down, Dr. Li cleared his throat and pulled a stack of case files from his bag.
"Sorry about this—I'm new here, so I'm not too familiar with your situation yet. Let me just go over the basics." Dr. Li sounded a little apologetic.
Lin Qiye nodded.
"Name... Lin Qiye?"
"Yes."
"Seventeen this year."
"Yes."
"Birthday?"
"October fifth."
"Mm... the file says you lost your sight ten years ago, and were admitted to our hospital at the same time due to certain issues?"
"Yes."
Dr. Li pondered for a long moment. "Did you change your name at some point?"
"...No. Why do you ask?" Lin Qiye blinked.
Dr. Li scratched his head, slightly embarrassed. "Ahem... I suppose I was overthinking it."
He reached out, pointing first at the age on the file, then at the words "ten years ago." "See, you went blind ten years ago—you were exactly seven then. And your name happens to be Lin Qiye—'Seven Nights.' So I assumed you changed your name after you lost your sight..."
Lin Qiye was silent for a long while, then shook his head. "No... I've never changed my name. Before I was even born, my parents had already decided on Lin Qiye."
"That's really quite... ahem." Dr. Li caught himself halfway, realizing it was impolite, and shut his mouth in time.
"Quite the coincidence." Lin Qiye spoke flatly. "It really is."
Dr. Li looked a bit awkward, but he quickly changed the subject. "Mm... the file doesn't seem to go into detail about the accident that cost you your sight and caused the mental breakdown. If it's all right, could you tell me about it?"
Before Lin Qiye could speak, Dr. Li hurriedly added, "I don't mean any offense. The better we understand a patient, the better we can treat them. Of course, if you'd rather not talk about it, I won't press."
Lin Qiye sat there quietly. Beneath the black satin band, those eyes seemed to be watching Dr. Li.
After a long moment, he spoke slowly:
"There's nothing I can't talk about... It's just that you probably won't believe it. You might even drag me back to the asylum."
"No, no, no—don't think of our relationship as doctor and patient. This is just a normal chat between friends. It won't come to that." Dr. Li said, half joking, "Even if you told me the Taishang Laojun pulled you into his alchemy furnace, I'd believe you."
Lin Qiye was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly.
"When I was little, I loved astronomy."
"Mm, and then?"
"That night, I was lying on the roof of our old family house, looking at the moon."
"And what did you see? The moon rabbit?" Dr. Li chuckled.
Lin Qiye shook his head. His next words froze the smile on Dr. Li's face.
"No. I saw an angel." Lin Qiye said it in complete earnest, even sketching the shape with his hands. "A seraph wreathed in golden radiance, with six white wings."
TL Notes:
TL Note: Lin Qiye's given name, Qiye (七夜), literally means "Seven Nights" — which is why the doctor assumed the boy who went blind at age seven had changed his name afterward.