“The deadline is 10 p.m. tonight. Those who haven’t signed up by then will have to draw lots.” Jiang Wan thought for a moment. “If anyone who draws the lot doesn’t want to go, they can talk to me privately.”
Jiang Wan never took up too much of everyone’s study time when discussing matters. He was used to making arrangements and summarizing things two or three minutes before class ended.
Li Yun hadn’t come to the classroom again, but she had been watching the surveillance footage. Only after Jiang Wan finished speaking did she send him a text message.
She wasn’t very fond of Jiang Wan’s adoptive mother.
Jiang Wan slid open his phone and handed it to Jiang Wenyan. “Little brother, Auntie has come to bring you some food.”
“Also, I’ve transferred the money for the medicine to you via Alipay.”
Jiang Wenyan closed his exercise book, too angry to say a word. Just as they were nearing the school gate, his pinned contact on WeChat buzzed.
Bunny: Don’t be angry. Auntie doesn’t like me using your money.
Bunny: Be good. Talk nicely with Auntie. Don’t hurt those who love you the most.
JWY: Got it.
The moment the bell rang, Lu Xingheng had only just finished writing the word “solution” when almost everyone in the classroom had already left.
Jiang Wan sat at the front, holding his phone in one hand, seemingly chatting on WeChat.
Lu Xingheng: “Shall we go?”
“Mm.” The moment he stood up, Jiang Wan felt a bit dizzy and swayed slightly.
By the time the dizziness passed, there was an unwrapped fruit candy in his hand.
Jiang Wan smiled teasingly. “I was too eager to see the gift and stood up too quickly.”
Lu Xingheng looked somewhat flustered. “Do you want to sit for a while?”
“Tsk.” Jiang Wan bit into the candy. “It’s just low blood sugar. I’m not weak.”
Lu Xingheng handed Jiang Wan the oil painting that Wen Qian had carefully wrapped.
Jiang Wan was taken aback. It was the first time he had ever unwrapped a gift with a bow.
“If I unwrap it, do I have to tie it back?” Jiang Wan gently tugged at the blue ribbon. “I might not know how.”
Lu Xingheng simply said, “It’s for you.”
“Then I’ll open it.”
“Mm.”
The oil painting was beautiful—neither abstract nor exaggerated, but clean and lovely. The sky was blue and white, the hillside was green, and even the water and air seemed to have color.
A boy rode a bicycle, with a little girl sitting on the back seat. The evening sun cast its glow, her skirt fluttering gently, and the ground was covered in a golden shimmer.
Jiang Wan chuckled softly. “I wasn’t really in the mood to cry, but then you showed me this.”
As a child, he suffered from a severe cold constitution, compounded by anemia and low blood sugar. He wasn’t tall, thin and small, and the children at the orphanage loved to bully him.
It seemed as long as they bullied him, the other children would become very happy. Jiang Wan didn’t understand why.
At that age, Jiang Wan couldn’t go without medication, yet they would still steal his candy, painkillers, hot water bottles… to the point where, when his low blood sugar acted up, he would be trapped alone in the bathroom, unable to see or hear anything.
At that moment, his world was pitch black. Until he met Lu Xingheng—the first child willing to unscrew the medicine bottle for him.
Jiang Wan remembered clearly: the painkillers that day were sweet, very, very sweet, and he took many, many of them at once.
Later on, little Jiang Wan always felt that Lu Xingheng and the beautiful auntie didn’t like boys. He even wore a white dress once.
He could be a girl too.
Everyone liked Jiang Tutu, not Jiang Wan.
…
Lu Xingheng: “Do you not like it?”
Jiang Wan’s voice was slightly hoarse, with a hint of a nasal tone. “Did Wen Yi paint it?”
“Mm.” Lu Xingheng replied. “There should be a video too, but I haven’t found it yet.”
Jiang Wan tilted his head back slightly, his dark pupils misting over with a film of moisture. His voice grew even hoarser. “Wen Yi paints beautifully. I’ve always known that.”
“Did she… give it to me?”
“I probably can’t afford it.”
Lu Xingheng suddenly called his name. “Jiang Wan.”
“What?”
“Don’t hold it in.”
A warm, dry, and gentle touch covered Jiang Wan’s eyes—Lu Xingheng’s palm rested lightly over them. The boy’s voice was soft and pleasant, falling low beside Jiang Wan’s ear.
Jiang Wan hadn’t cried in over a decade. At most, he would just tilt his head back.
Now that someone was suddenly giving him permission to cry, he found he didn’t know how. Beneath Lu Xingheng’s palm, he kept his eyes open, not blinking once.
Lu Xingheng clumsily tried to comfort him. “If you don’t like it, I’ll go back and swap it for another one.”
“Or you can go pick one yourself?”
“My mom hasn’t sold her paintings in years. This one is for you.”
Jiang Wan repeated, “For me.”
Lu Xingheng: “Mm.”
Even when he finally withdrew his hand, Lu Xingheng’s palm remained dry.
“Lu Xingxing.”
“Mm.”
“I do like it.”
How could he not? Wen Qian had gathered the shattered pieces of his childhood one by one and painted them into this vibrant oil painting… as if his pitch-black childhood had finally gained color, no longer shrouded in darkness.
By the time the two returned, Jiang Wenyan and Xu Yichen had already showered. The table was piled high with fruit and snacks.
Jiang Wenyan was drying his hair. “Bro, the water’s really hot right now. Perfect timing for you to shower.”
Jiang Wan acknowledged with a sound. He was still holding the oil painting, this time with the bow tied by Lu Xingheng.
Jiang Wenyan glanced over. “What’s that? Did another girl give you a gift?”
“No.” Jiang Wan placed the painting in a small box by the table. “It’s a gift from someone very important.”
Lu Xingheng accidentally hung up on Wen Qian.
Wen Qian promptly changed her WeChat profile picture to “Heart Like Still Water,” featuring a half-bloomed lotus.
In the family group chat, Wen Qian started making a fuss.
QQQ: @WWW You hung up on me.
QQQ: You actually hung up on me!
It was still daytime where Lu Qingci was. He frowned slightly.
qqq: Why aren’t you asleep yet?
WWW: Slipped.
QQQ: Can’t sleep.
QQQ: @WWW Did you manage to comfort the little one?
WWW: Made him cry.
QQQ: ?
QQQ: What did you do??? Didn’t I tell you to talk more?
qqq: Did you drink the milk Auntie made?
QQQ: Yeah, yeah, I know.
qqq: Ran into Bunny? @WWW
WWW: Mm.
Lu Xingheng looked up. Jiang Wan was getting ready to shower, his eyes still slightly red.
WWW: @qqq Does drinking milk at night help with sleep?
The three in the small group chat all found each other annoying. They had all muted the group notifications, so tagging was the only way to get someone’s attention.
qqq: Mm.
Today, Wen Qian hadn’t just brought the painting—she’d also brought some milk and desserts.
Lu Xingheng pulled out a carton of milk, tore it open along the edge, poured it into a glass, then went downstairs to the dormitory building and heated it in the microwave for a minute.
The dorm supervisor was a bit surprised. At night, she usually only saw boys sneaking in to heat up fried chicken or instant noodles. This was the first time she’d seen someone heating milk.
After Jiang Wan finished showering, Lu Xingheng was adding honey to the milk.
Lu Xingheng: “The glass hasn’t been used before.”
Jiang Wan thought Lu Xingheng wanted to drink it himself, so she followed up, “Even if it’s your own cup, it shouldn’t have been used by someone else.”
Lu Xingheng frowned slightly and pushed the glass forward again. “It’s hot.”
“You drink it.”