The internet cafe was shrouded in smoke.
The pungent smell of cheap cigarettes stung the eyes.
Not far away, a few boys were shouting and cursing while playing games, their keyboards clattering loudly, making the small corner feel even more oppressive.
Yuan Su’s expression was cold and stern. When he spoke about money, debt, and survival, his tone was as calm as if he were saying, “The weather is nice today.”
No complaints, no resentment.
Only a numbness and acceptance that came from having long faced reality.
“Right now, I can only keep my head down and watch the path beneath my feet.”
“Make sure I don’t fall and die, and don’t drag the people behind me down with me.”
Pu Yu’s heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly, leaving her breathless.
She looked at the boy’s thin silhouette under the dim light. All the words she had prepared were stuck in her throat, turning into silent sorrow.
The application form in her hand suddenly felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
All the talk about dreams, about the future, about talent that shouldn’t be buried—
At this moment, it seemed utterly pale, even cruelly naive.
Pu Yu lowered her gaze and gently placed the slightly warm application form on the nearby computer case.
“The teacher asked me to give this to you.”
The girl’s voice was very soft. “Whether you look at it or fill it out is up to you.”
Yuan Su didn’t look at the paper, his eyes still fixed on the flickering code on the screen.
“And…”
Pu Yu paused, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m sorry.”
Yuan Su turned his head, his deep black eyes looking at her again, with a hint of confusion and resistance:
“What are you apologizing for?”
“I shouldn’t have measured your life by my own standards,” Pu Yu said honestly.
The boy suddenly let out a low laugh.
There was no warmth in that laughter, only a desolate self-mockery.
He turned back and continued his work, his voice cold and hard: “The path was my own choice, the debt was my father’s, and the life is mine to live.”
“Save your overflowing sympathy.”
“I don’t need it.”
Xu Suiran opened her lips, about to say something, but Pu Yu gently tugged at her sleeve and shook her head.
“We’ll leave you to your work.”
Pu Yu took one last look at that stubborn and lonely figure.
Then, she pulled the still-dazed Xu Suiran along and walked out of the internet cafe.
The night wind carried a chill, dispersing the smell of smoke clinging to their clothes.
Xu Suiran took a few deep breaths of fresh air, as if finally recovering.
She glanced back at the flickering neon sign, her voice muffled, “Xiao Yu, why does it feel so sad…”
“You haven’t seen Yuan Su back then,” Xu Suiran kicked a small pebble on the roadside, her tone low. “He was so full of spirit back then. At the high school opening ceremony, he even gave a speech as the freshman representative. Standing under the sunlight, he seemed to glow.”
“Compared to that, he’s really pitiful now…”
“So talented, yet stuck fixing broken computers in that filthy place.”
Pu Yu stopped walking.
She looked at the dark night sky in the distance, her voice soft but firm:
“He’s not pitiful.”
Xu Suiran was stunned. “Huh? How is he not pitiful?”
“He’s working so hard to support his family, paying off debts with his own skills, taking care of his sick mother—all so that no one will pity him.”
Pu Yu turned her head and looked earnestly at Xu Suiran: “Sui Sui, we can feel regretful, we can feel sorry, but we must not look at him with pity.”
“That would be a denial of his efforts to live.”
Xu Suiran stared blankly at Pu Yu for a moment before hugging her and snuggling up coquettishly.
“No wonder you write such great essays!”
“Just like our Chinese teacher said, something about having a soft heart and learning to empathize to write good words!”
Pu Yu simply smiled.
The smile was faint, disappearing in an instant at the corner of her lips.
Xu Suiran’s words had inadvertently touched a hidden resonance in Pu Yu’s heart.
It wasn’t that she was particularly good at empathizing.
Rather, her experience and Yuan Su’s were essentially no different.
She understood that feeling all too well: the more humiliating the moment, the more one needed to straighten their back, the more one needed to press all embarrassment firmly into the shadows, not allowing even a hint of pity to pry. Because pity was like a mirror, reflecting not kindness, but the wretchedness one desperately tried to hide.
So she didn’t offer advice.
So she didn’t pity.
Inside the internet cafe.
Yuan Su quickly finished dealing with the last bit of program malfunction.
He closed the computer case, stood up, and went to settle the bill.
The blond-haired internet cafe attendant was still cracking sunflower seeds. Seeing him about to leave, he quickly asked gossipily, “So fast, Brother Su? Not staying to play a bit longer?”
Yuan Su ignored him, took the money, and stuffed it into his pocket without even counting it.
“Those two pretty girls earlier…”
“Classmates,” Yuan Su answered briefly, picking up his toolbox. “Don’t bother them.”
“Alright, alright, since Brother Su says so, I’ll definitely behave.”
Stepping out of the internet cafe, the cool night breeze brushed against his face.
Yuan Su’s gaze turned in the direction where Pu Yu and Xu Suiran had left.
Their figures were no longer visible at the end of the street.
At this hour, some streetlights in town were broken, and indeed, there were some unsavory characters loitering around the internet cafe area.
He frowned, then turned and followed them.
Only after watching Pu Yu and Xu Suiran safely enter their respective homes did Yuan Su stop.
He stood for a while in the shadows at the mouth of the alley.
Then, he turned and walked toward the northern part of town.
That was where the town health center was.
Although the conditions were simple, for him now, it was the only place he could afford for his mother’s hospitalization.
At night, only the lights in the duty room were still on.
The corridor was filled with the strong smell of disinfectant.
Yuan Su walked up to the second floor and stopped in front of the innermost ward.
He didn’t go in directly. Instead, he first glanced inside through the glass window on the door, then tentatively knocked.
“Who is it?” came a gentle but somewhat faint woman’s voice from inside.
“Mom, it’s me,” Yuan Su said softly.
“A Su?”
Yuan Su’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly.
He pushed the door open and entered.
On the hospital bed, a thin middle-aged woman was leaning against the headboard, holding an old photo and staring blankly.
Seeing Yuan Su enter, her eyes brightened, and a loving smile appeared on her face:
“A Su? Why are you here so late?”
Today was a lucky day.
She recognized him.
“Just finished work, came to see you,” Yuan Su walked over, skillfully closed the window for her, and took an apple out of his pocket. “How are you feeling today?”
“Pretty good, just always feeling sleepy,” Lu Zhen looked at him gently. “Don’t overwork yourself either; you’re still growing.”
Yuan Su sat by the bed, peeling an apple for her.
“I’m not tired.”
Just as he lowered his head to peel the apple, the folded application form in his pocket slipped halfway out due to his sitting posture.
“What’s this?”
Yuan Su paused, about to pick it up and throw it away.
But his mother had already snatched it from his hand first.
It was the form printed with the school’s letterhead and the words “Physics Competition.”
The woman unfolded the paper, examining it carefully under the dim yellow light. Gradually, a proud gleam appeared in her eyes.
“Physics competition… National High School Physics Competition?”
She looked up at Yuan Su with surprise and delight. “A-Su, are you going to compete? I knew it! Our little Su is the best! You’ll definitely win a big prize!”
Yuan Su’s hands stilled.
He lowered his gaze, avoiding his mother’s expectant eyes. “…I’m not going.”
The air instantly froze.
“Not going?”
The woman’s smile stiffened on her face. Her originally gentle eyes instantly turned panicked, even trembling slightly.
“Why not? You love physics so much. Your dad used to buy you so many books… Why won’t you go?”
Her voice began to tremble, her emotions growing agitated. “Is it because of money? Did they come looking for you again? Don’t give them money, A-Su, we won’t give them money! I’ve already paid it all back!!”
“Mom, no, no one came looking for me…” Yuan Su quickly put down the apple and took her hand to comfort her.
Lu Zhen’s body trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming from her eyes. “Then why won’t you go? Is it because Mom’s illness is holding you back? Our A-Su used to be first place…”
Seeing her emotions on the verge of collapsing again.
Yuan Su closed his eyes. When he opened them again, only a weary calm remained.
He stepped forward, firmly grasping his mother’s trembling hand once more, and said word by word:
“I’ll go.”
“I’ll compete.”
Lu Zhen’s crying abruptly stopped.
She looked up at her son through tear-blurred eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” Yuan Su took the application form from her hand and waved it in front of her. “The form is right here. I’ll submit it tomorrow.”
The woman stared at him for a few seconds, finally breaking into a smile through her tears.
“That’s good, that’s good…”
Like a child who had been given candy, she happily held the application form and smiled.
Outside the window, the moonlight was cold and clear.
It silently fell upon Yuan Su’s silent profile.
He knew he would never fill out that application form.
That once-bright, shining physics dream of his had long ago seeped into the soil, filled with the smell of machine oil and decay.
It would never bloom again.