Yang Shuyi gave a deep yawn. “Are you cold?”
He actually was. “A little,” Shao Wu answered quietly.
Yang Shuyi stopped talking. His breathing gradually became slow and even. Shao Wu had not expected him to fall asleep so quickly. He had been hoping they could talk a little longer. But then he thought about it. Yang Shuyi must really be exhausted.
After a while, the nurses began turning off the corridor lights one by one. Only one dim light remained between every two wards. Shao Wu was certain Yang Shuyi had fallen asleep. But he himself was completely awake. All he could do was stare blankly at the faint green glow of the EXIT sign.
His thoughts were a mess. How much longer would Yang Shuyi’s grandmother remain in the hospital? Would his family have enough money to pay Yang Shuyi’s tuition for senior year? Would Yang Shuyi drop out after finishing his second year? Then Shao Wu thought about himself. Their homeroom teacher had told him to think about university. Where did he want to go? Shao Wu actually wanted to go to Beijing. He had visited once when he was in fifth grade. It had been autumn. His parents took him around the Forbidden City. In his memory, the palace had seemed enormous and beautiful. The autumn sky was high and impossibly blue. When the wind swept through, golden leaves fluttered across the ground. The cleaners raked them into small hillocks beside the vermilion palace walls.
Maybe people from the south always yearned for the vast north, just as northerners longed for the damp softness of the south.
What about Yang Shuyi? Would he stay in Yongchuan forever? But Yongchuan was so small, far too small. A taxi from one end of the district to the other only cost fifteen yuan.
“Don’t regret it!…”
Shao Wu jumped, then immediately realized Yang Shuyi was talking in his sleep.
The next second, something heavy settled against his shoulder.
This time, Shao Wu’s heart really began to pound.
Yang Shuyi’s head had fallen onto his shoulder.
Over the past two years, the sitcom My Own Swordsman had become wildly popular. One of its characters, Bai Zhantang, was famous for his miraculous Sunflower Acupoint Strike. At that moment, Shao Wu felt as though Bai Zhantang had struck him squarely with it. His entire body froze.
Elio’s Notes: My Own Swordsman (《武林外传》) began airing in 2006. Bai Zhantang’s “Sunflower Acupoint Strike” is one of his signature moves, famously leaving its targets frozen in place.
He did not even dare breathe too deeply. He was afraid of waking Yang Shuyi. The weight resting on his shoulder no longer seemed like Yang Shuyi’s heavy head. It felt like a leaf blown there by the wind. A butterfly poised to take flight. A tear trembling on the verge of falling.
Shao Wu did not know how much time passed. His shoulder had already gone completely numb when he somehow fell asleep like that.
He did not sleep well that night. Sometime in the early hours, Yang Shuyi got up. Half asleep, Shao Wu mumbled, “What is it?” Yang Shuyi answered softly, “I need to empty Grandma’s urine bag.” Not long afterward, a cluster of doctors and nurses hurried down the corridor. Apparently another patient had suddenly become unwell. After that, Shao Wu slept only lightly. The tip of his nose became ice cold. It was the coldest part of the night.
Yang Shuyi never rested his head on Shao Wu’s shoulder again.
A little after six in the morning, Yang Shuyi’s father arrived. Shao Wu and Yang Shuyi each hurried home to wash and change clothes. At the intersection where they parted, Yang Shuyi suddenly slung an arm around Shao Wu’s shoulder in the casual way boys did with their buddies. “Thanks, Shao Wu.”
Shao Wu did not know what he was thanking him for. The milk and sausages? Staying with him overnight? But the food had barely cost anything. And staying overnight… Shao Wu had not actually helped with anything.
“…Don’t mention it.” Still, Shao Wu smiled. He copied the casual tone the other boys in class used with one another. “Come on. We’re buddies.”
Yang Shuyi nodded. “See you in a bit.”
“Mm. See you.”
Yang Shuyi turned to leave. Shao Wu suddenly remembered something. “Hey! Yang Shuyi! I’ll bring you breakfast later! From that same place with the pea-and-minced-pork noodles!”
Yang Shuyi waved without turning. “No need! There’s food at home!”
Shao Wu deflated slightly. “Oh… okay. Then eat more.”
He watched Yang Shuyi’s back for several seconds. The sky was overcast. Shallow puddles dotted the road, probably left by last night’s rain. The air was so cold it felt as though frost itself had frozen inside it. Shao Wu remembered another morning just as damp and cold. He had brought Yang Shuyi a bowl of pea-and-minced-pork noodles. Yang Shuyi had devoured them ravenously. At the time, Shao Wu had thought: Next time I’ll bring him hot-and-sour noodles. Then chili-oil wontons. That place makes really good pork-rib noodles too… But afterward, Yang Shuyi had insisted on paying him back for the noodles. Shao Wu did not know how to explain it. He did not want Yang Shuyi’s money at all. He just wanted to treat him a little better. More specifically… He wanted to give him good things to eat. He wanted him to be full. He wanted him to be warm. But Yang Shuyi was so proud that he refused to owe Shao Wu even the price of a bowl of noodles. Even though they were already good buddies.
At the time, Shao Wu still had not realized one thing: between ordinary buddies, you did not feel disappointed just because the other person insisted on paying you back for one bowl of noodles.