“Does it hurt?” Gu Ziyu asked gently as he carefully bandaged Ji An’s injured palm.
Ji An hadn’t treated the wound yesterday and had come straight to work. The wound was red and swollen, with some of the flesh turning outward, a disturbing sight.
His typing speed had slowed considerably, whether due to the wound tearing or some other reason. When Gu Ziyu returned the jacket Ji An had left in his car the previous day, he noticed bloodstains on the white keyboard.
The smile vanished from Gu Ziyu’s face as he grabbed Ji An’s hand and opened his palm.
Originally, Ji An didn’t want to bandage it, thinking the wound would heal on its own.
But Gu Ziyu’s expression clearly showed his disapproval, and he held Ji An’s hand firmly, not allowing him to move.
Ji An couldn’t argue with him and had to let him bandage it.
Still, Ji An remarked, “Bandaging it makes it hard to work.”
“Just tell me what you need to do, and I’ll handle it,” Gu Ziyu said as he carefully applied medicine to the wound.
The medicine stung slightly, causing Ji An to involuntarily flinch his fingers.
Gu Ziyu noticed immediately, slowed his movements, and gently blew on the wound.
“Oh, what’s going on here?” Xun Yi swiveled his chair over, spinning leisurely as he spoke. “You two seem quite cozy. Ji An, your jacket was with him. What were you up to last night? How did you hurt your hand?”
Ji An disliked such meaningless teasing and was about to clarify when Gu Ziyu spoke first, “Nothing, Xun. We just had dinner together yesterday. I don’t know how Ji An hurt his hand, but whatever happened, it needs to be bandaged quickly to avoid infection.”
“Hmm?” Xun Yi leaned in, grimacing at the ghastly wound. “How did it happen?”
Ji An didn’t answer.
Gu Ziyu finished bandaging the wound and smiled gently at Ji An, seemingly aware of his reluctance to share the truth, and changed the subject for him: “Xun, how far along is your wife? Is she due soon?”
“Over eight months now,” Xun Yi replied, excitement lighting up his face as he talked about his wife and child. “Yesterday, she cried over some stretch marks on her belly. I spent hours comforting her, rubbing oil on her, and made her favorite braised pork. Finally got her to smile again. Pregnant women are like kids, really adorable. It’s a shame you two won’t experience this joy, especially you, Ji An. You’ve become as detached as a monk.”
Ji An looked at him coolly. “The injury was from yesterday when I was self-harming. You Fu grabbed the glass shard from my hand.”
Gu Ziyu and Xun Yi’s eyes widened slightly, not expecting Ji An to say something like that.
Ji An’s lips curled into a cold smile, his gaze shifting to Gu Ziyu, his expression clearly conveying, “I don’t need your misguided kindness.”
Misguided and self-indulgent.
Xun Yi scratched his head awkwardly. “Why self-harm?”
Ji An wiped the blood off the keyboard with a wet tissue. “Just didn’t feel good. There’s not always a reason.”
Gu Ziyu was stunned for a moment, then pulled back Ji An’s sleeve, revealing a dark red wound on his arm. Fortunately, it wasn’t too deep and was already scabbing over slightly.
His expression was grim, not because of Ji An’s earlier rudeness, but because of his self-harming behavior.
Ji An paused, noticing the tears welling up in Gu Ziyu’s eyes, large drops falling onto his sleeve. Though slightly annoyed by the tears, he was somewhat moved and didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he handed Gu Ziyu a tissue. “It’s nothing.”
Gu Ziyu took the tissue but didn’t wipe his tears. After a moment of eye contact, he suppressed his emotions and said, “Sorry, that was inappropriate of me.”
He hurried off to the restroom.
Ji An pressed his lips tightly together.
Xun Yi tentatively nudged him. “Don’t do that again. You see how much it upset him.”
Ji An looked at the neatly bandaged wound on his hand, lost in thought. He took a bottle of yogurt from his desk and placed it on Gu Ziyu’s table.
After work in the afternoon, he went to the locker to get his things, only to find the door slightly ajar, revealing a stash of candies and cookies inside. There was also a sticky note with a cartoon figure next to the word “self-harm,” its arms crossed in a big X, with a line below: “Eating sweets will improve your mood.”
Ji An packed everything into a plastic bag and left.
City No. 1 High School.
Ji An stood at the school gate with the plastic bag.
Most students at the school attended evening study sessions, so only a few were leaving after classes ended.
Tall and noticeable, You Fu stood out on campus. He was surprised to see Ji An but didn’t show much emotion, simply asking, “What are you doing here?”
“For you.” Ji An tossed the bag of sweets into his arms.
You Fu didn’t argue that he didn’t like sweets. Instead, he naturally took out a candy, unwrapped it, and handed it to Ji An, then unwrapped another for himself.
It was as if he was forcing himself to eat something he didn’t like.
Ji An was a contradictory person, disliking You Fu’s obedience yet enjoying it.
It was like his favorite comic book as a child, wanting others to see how interesting it was, but losing interest once many people started liking it and discussing it.
He didn’t know why, just like now. He enjoyed You Fu’s obedience but found it dull and tedious.
Like living with a wooden post.
Conflicted and awkward.
“How’s your hand?”
You Fu opened his palm in front of him. “Not great.”
The skin around the wound was slightly loose and pale, clearly from frequent washing.
You Fu said, “But it’s my left hand, so it doesn’t really affect anything.”
He didn’t mention whether it hurt or not.
Ji An asked, “Why didn’t you bandage it?”
You Fu lowered his hand. “No need. Just squeeze the blood out.”
He was always careless with wound care, only bandaging obvious injuries and rarely applying medicine. For less noticeable wounds, he didn’t bother at all, since no one would pry open his palm to check for injuries.
Ji An didn’t say anything, taking him to a small clinic downstairs to have the wound treated.
Thinking their hands were inconvenient for cooking, they had dinner together downstairs.
With their injuries, they shouldn’t have eaten spicy food, as it could cause inflammation, but neither of them cared. They ate whatever they wanted.
Even when Ji An had a throat infection before, he wanted spicy food, and You Fu made it for him, simply placing a glass of honey water on the table to soothe his throat.
Last night, Ji An had called You Fu crazy, but if outsiders knew their way of interacting and living, they’d probably call them both crazy.
Ji An wasn’t exactly normal either.
…
When Ji An started taking care of You Fu, his life seemed to hit fast-forward, moving rapidly.
Winter was almost over, the branches bare, with a few small birds chirping at the treetops.
You Fu was almost an adult.
Ji An didn’t have many memories of a younger You Fu, only that he was similar to now, but with chubby cheeks that Ji An loved to pinch, watching the flesh pile up.
During that time, Ji An was extremely busy, leaving early and returning late, often tossing some money to You Fu before disappearing.
Back then, Ji An was poor, with little money. The small company he worked for provided employee meals, which were bland and tasteless, often just boiled tofu and vegetables. Few people besides the cleaning staff ate there. But to save money, he ate those flavorless meals every day.
Sometimes he wondered why his mother had given the entire ten million as a reward for raising You Fu, why she hadn’t taken a portion out for him, even just a hundred thousand?
He wouldn’t have had to live like a dog.
Later, he realized that Qian Ran didn’t understand his life, didn’t know he was struggling, didn’t know that a recent college graduate without connections or capital would find it hard to survive in a big city. How could she have predicted his future would be difficult?
She had only planned You Fu’s path to adulthood, not her own son’s.
When Ji An first started raising You Fu, You Fu went to and from school alone. Ji An had no experience taking care of children. One day, after working overtime for three or four days straight, he came home to find the house dark, with no lights turning on no matter how many switches he pressed.
You Fu was in the dim house, doing his homework by the light of a small candle.
He later found out that from the first day he worked overtime, the electricity had been cut off due to unpaid bills.
You Fu had lived alone in the dark little house for three days.
Ji An wasn’t a monster. No matter how much he disliked You Fu, he didn’t have a penchant for abusing a thirteen or fourteen-year-old child.
To prevent it from happening again, he got a second-hand phone from a colleague for You Fu, telling him to contact him if anything happened.
You Fu was peculiar. Even after Ji An told him this, he still didn’t contact him when he needed to.
Once, You Fu’s homeroom teacher called Ji An, saying You Fu hadn’t come to class. Ji An had pulled an all-nighter and was exhausted, but he rushed home when he couldn’t reach You Fu.
He found You Fu curled up in the bathroom, clutching his stomach. Ji An was so panicked his legs went weak, and he carried the unconscious You Fu to the hospital.
The doctor diagnosed food poisoning and put him on an IV drip.
Ji An looked at You Fu lying motionless on the hospital bed and wanted to strangle him.
He did reach out, but instead of strangling him, he held the IV tube in his palm, warming it. The cold saline flowed from his hand, absorbing his warmth before entering You Fu’s veins.
When he was a child, his maternal grandmother would do this for him, fearing the cold saline would be uncomfortable entering his veins directly.
He mimicked his grandmother’s actions for a child he resented.
The water in the bottle dripped steadily, the section of the IV tube near You Fu’s hand always hidden in Ji An’s palm.
When You Fu woke up, he said nothing. After Ji An’s repeated questioning, he finally admitted he had spent all his living expenses and had no money for food, so he ate spoiled food.
At that time, Ji An was under a lot of work pressure. Hearing this, after a sleepless night and day, Ji An nearly broke down. “Didn’t I tell you to tell me if anything happened? If you run out of living expenses, ask! Do you not understand human language?!”
You Fu kept his head down, unconsciously gripping the bedsheet. “I thought you wouldn’t like me bothering you.”
“And now? You didn’t want to bother me, but you caused even more trouble! Coming to the hospital costs more than a meal. I stayed up all night and still had to bring you to the hospital! If you died, it would be even more trouble! Can you stop pushing me? If you want to avoid bothering me, just live quietly until you’re an adult so I can get that money!”
You Fu, the final straw for Ji An, listened to his tirade. When Ji An finished, he grabbed a piece of his clothing. “I understand, Brother.”
Ji An’s breathing space came when You Fu grew older and learned to take care of himself. By then, Ji An’s finances weren’t as tight, and You Fu no longer ran out of living expenses and couldn’t afford food.