On January fourth, Wang Yujun and Shao Wu took Wu Yan to the operating room together. The operation took longer than they’d expected. Nearly three hours passed before she was wheeled out, still very groggy from the general anesthetic.
Fortunately, the doctor said everything had gone smoothly.
After that came a slow recovery. Wu Yan had already hired a female caregiver, partly because it would be easier for a woman to care for her and partly because she couldn’t bear to exhaust her sons. Shao Wu and Wang Yujun took turns staying at the hospital and, all told, didn’t find it too tiring.
By January fifteenth, Wu Yan could slowly walk along the corridor. She’d lost two and a half kilograms after the operation, but perhaps because her sons were with her, she was in good spirits. Whenever colleagues or friends visited, she could chat animatedly for a long time.
Once she asked Shao Wu casually, “That classmate of yours surnamed Yang, has he settled down yet?”
Shao Wu was peeling her an apple and replied without looking up, “He has.”
“Oh…” Wu Yan paused. “He seems like a good young man.”
“He is.” Shao Wu smiled at her. “Here, Mom. Let’s each have half, all right?”
So they crunched through the apple together and said nothing more about Yang Shuyi.
On January sixteenth, the day before Yang Shuyi’s wedding, Zou Xin called Shao Wu and asked to meet.
They met in the café of a newly opened hotel at eight thirty in the morning. Apart from a server dozing at the entrance, there was nobody there.
“We’re getting married here,” Zou Xin said.
Shao Wu nodded. “I know.” Longlong had told him.
Zou Xin opened her Hermès bag, took out a little gift bag, and pushed it toward him. “Wedding sweets.”
The bag was a striking royal blue, with silk handles, exquisitely made. In the center, the simple English words “I LOVE YOU” were printed in fancy script.
Shao Wu was silent for two seconds. “What did you want to see me about?” She couldn’t really have come merely to deliver sweets.
“What did you and he talk about after I left that night?” Zou Xin asked with a smile.
“Nothing much. It won’t affect your wedding.”
“Of course it won’t. We’re even having another rehearsal this afternoon.”
“…”
“He’s been wandering around in a daze these past few days, like he’s lost his soul.” Zou Xin stirred her coffee. “Yesterday I told him it wasn’t too late to change his mind. And what do you know? He still wants to get married.”
Shao Wu said nothing.
“Seriously, Shao Wu, stop being so awkward and just get together. I don’t object. You both want each other. How rare is that?”
She kept coaxing him. “We’re only marrying to give our families an explanation. We all know it’s fake. And you two can’t register a marriage anyway. Zhang and me, you and Yang Shuyi: we could cover for each other. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“He genuinely wanted to be with you before,” Shao Wu said.
“Not anymore.”
“That has nothing to do with me.” Shao Wu picked up the bag of wedding sweets. “That’s all. I wish you a smooth wedding.”
Shao Wu left the café and entered the first-floor lobby. Warm orange light filled the space, and the crystal chandeliers cast wavering reflections on the marble floor like ripples. The recently opened hotel was elegantly decorated, a genuinely lovely place to hold a wedding.
Zou Xin didn’t follow him. Shao Wu looked around the lobby for a moment, then left.
Wang Yujun had the day shift and Shao Wu the night shift, so he didn’t need to go to the hospital just yet. He ate a steamer of soup dumplings at a bun shop, went home, and showered.
After his shower, he began doing laundry. Before his parents’ divorce, the Jinxiu Garden apartment had stood empty, so it had no washing machine. Fortunately Wu Yan had already bought a basin and laundry detergent. Shao Wu dissolved some detergent in warm water, took off his sweater and long underwear, and put them in to soak. The bathroom heater was on, so he wasn’t cold. Wearing only his underpants, he sat on a low stool and scrubbed his clothes.
Halfway through, he realized something was wrong. The long underwear was gray. Its dye was running.
He hurriedly pulled the sweater out, but it was too late. The white wool had taken on a faint gray tint. Shao Wu stared at the dripping sweater for a few seconds, then put it back in.
He’d just pretend it was a new sweater.
After washing his own clothes, he also washed the jeans Wang Yujun had changed out of. The denim was stiff and harder to scrub, so it took longer. He hung all three pieces on the balcony. The sweater and long underwear had been wrung almost dry, but water kept dripping from the jeans, so he moved the basin beneath them.
It was one of Yongchuan’s rare sunny days. The sunlight felt warmly comfortable on his skin. Shao Wu squatted on the balcony for a while, sunning himself and watching the basin beside him. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drops fell from the cuffs of the jeans, tapping clearly against the bottom of the basin.
When he began to feel cold, he went back to the bedroom. His phone had finished charging, so he started playing Honor of Kings. He’d heard someone say that only straight men played the jungle role, and he thought there might be something to it: he could never manage jungling himself. Maybe he could get Wang Yujun and Chen Yimang to try it sometime. If neither of them could jungle either, the saying must be true.
Shao Wu was ranked fairly low, Platinum, and often found himself matched with rookies just as bad as he was. Luckily he had a good attitude and didn’t get angry when he lost. A ranked match took at least fifteen minutes. After several rounds, it was noon. He ordered braised-pork rice, ate it quickly, and returned to his game. Two more losses later, he exited and set the phone facedown beside his pillow.
Then he slept straight through until six thirty in the evening.
Night had fallen when he woke, and the room was dark. Through the floor-to-ceiling window, he could see nearly every apartment in the opposite building lit up. It took him a moment to remember he was in Yongchuan, not Zhuhai.
Wang Yujun had sent a message sometime after four: Don’t come tonight. Mom isn’t having an infusion. I’ll just be sleeping at the hospital anyway.
Shao Wu replied: I’ll come. Have you two eaten?
Wang Yujun: Mom has. Bring me some chaoshou.
Shao Wu: OK.
At the hospital, Mom was chatting with the daughter of the elderly woman in the next bed. The daughter looked barely thirty and was eagerly asking Wu Yan which kindergarten she should choose for her child. Wang Yujun accepted the chaoshou and said between bites, “You should go back later.”
“It’s okay,” Shao Wu said. “You go home and shave.”
“What, do I need a shave?” Wang Yujun touched his chin. “I only shaved yesterday.”
“Bro,” Shao Wu murmured when he saw Mom was engrossed in conversation, “Dr. Zhou asked me earlier whether you were staying overnight tonight.”
Wang Yujun shot a sideways look, as though Dr. Zhou were standing there. “He’s got a lot of opinions, doesn’t he?”
Shao Wu just smiled.
Dr. Zhou worked in oncology. He seemed to be in his thirties, tall, long-legged, handsome, and gay. A few days earlier he’d stopped Shao Wu and asked, “Xiao Shao, could you send me your brother’s WeChat?”
At least he was direct.
Shao Wu thought the two of them might have a chance.
After finishing the chaoshou, Wang Yujun went home, and Shao Wu stayed to keep Mom company. It had only been ten-odd days, but everyone in the room already knew one another, perhaps because they were bored and had little to do but gossip. Shao Wu listened with interest: one family’s distant relative had gambled away two apartments, another family’s friend had jumped to his death after losing the principal in an illegal investment scheme… Sometimes his mother spoke about kindergarten too, saying that children these days were much more delicate and spoiled than before.
Will Yang Shuyi have children? Would Zou Xin really agree to bear his child? Shao Wu wondered.
The thought flashed through his mind and was gone. He took out his phone and played Honor of Kings again. He topped up two hundred yuan’s worth of game credits and bought a new skin, which felt great to use.
He played until ten thirty. His mother had fallen asleep, and Shao Wu was getting sleepy too. Lying on a folding chair, he sent Wang Yujun a message: I’ll be at the hospital tomorrow during the day. Come back tomorrow night.
Wang Yujun didn’t reply. Maybe he was out enjoying himself with Dr. Zhou.
Shao Wu set down his phone and sank into sleep.
Colorful scenes flashed repeatedly through his dreams, but when he woke, he remembered none of them. The phone read 03:17. It was 3:17 a.m. on January seventeenth.
The groom probably has to get up early to collect the bride, but surely not this early.
Shao Wu closed his eyes and fell asleep again.
This time he slept deeply without dreaming.
Then dawn broke, and a new day began in the inpatient building. Wash his face, brush his teeth, buy Mom breakfast, wait for the doctor’s rounds, watch Mom receive her IV while sitting beside her, watching the fluid trickle down the thin clear tube, drop by drop, into the little bulb-shaped drip chamber.
“What’s wrong? Is it running too fast?” Mom asked. Some intravenous medicines couldn’t be infused too quickly.
“Do you feel uncomfortable?”
“No.”
“Then it’s fine.” Shao Wu smiled. “I’m just looking.”
Such a huge bottle of fluid, falling one drop at a time… How many drops would there be?
After ten, his phone rang.
It was Zhu Jingjing. She sounded cautious. “Shao Wu, are you coming?”
She meant Yang Shuyi’s wedding. Shao Wu had heard that everyone from their class still living in Yongchuan had received an invitation. It was going to be quite an event.
“No. I need to stay at the hospital with Mom.”
“Oh… all right.” Then Zhu Jingjing hastily corrected herself. “That’s good too.”
Shao Wu joked, “If you get drunk this time, there’s absolutely no way I can come get you.”
Zhu Jingjing laughed too. “You’re so annoying.”
After eleven, classmates began posting photos in the group chat. At the hotel entrance stood a backdrop covered in golden balloons and red roses for guests to take pictures. Farther inside, Hall Two housed the ceremony. On its LED screen, Yang Shuyi and Zou Xin’s wedding portraits played continuously. He wore a light-brown suit, she an ivory mermaid gown. Such a handsome couple, perfectly matched.
After a while someone posted more pictures. Yang Shuyi, Zou Xin, Grandma, and the emcee stood onstage. He was still in his suit and she in her gown; Grandma wore a festive red traditional Chinese jacket. Perhaps this was the part where they recounted the couple’s relationship. All four were smiling. A classmate caught the moment Yang Shuyi and Zou Xin looked at each other with gentle eyes.
Shao Wu was silent, then switched his phone off completely.
The digital clock in the room showed 11:47. Shao Wu thought the wedding should end before one. Another hour and thirteen minutes.
Mom had eaten and was taking a nap. His phone was off, so he couldn’t play Honor of Kings.
Instead, Shao Wu took the paper gift bag Zou Xin had given him from his backpack. Inside was a royal-blue box, with two overlapping hearts on the lid, pierced by an arrow. Cupid’s arrow.
He lifted the lid. It really was wedding candy: chocolate, toffees, and milk sweets nestled among fine pink shredded paper, beautifully arranged.
Shao Wu unwrapped a chocolate and let it slowly melt in his mouth.
One by one, he ate all the wedding sweets.
12:34.
Twenty-six minutes left. Why were there still twenty-six minutes?
There was nothing to be done. Shao Wu picked up one strand of shredded paper and silently counted, One.
He picked up another. Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
…
The shredded paper was fine, so there were plenty of strands. Shao Wu patiently picked them up one by one, counting each silently. All he had to do was endure, let time pass, hold himself back. What was so difficult about that? That night, when Yang Shuyi had spoken the word love, he’d somehow restrained himself from kissing him in a frenzy. Surely he could hold himself back from everything that followed.
Love. If the Shao Wu from high school, from university, or from his first days teaching at his old school had heard that word, how wildly happy would he have been? Unfortunately he was the Shao Wu of this precise moment. He now understood that Yang Shuyi’s “love” was real, but love came in different forms. Never forgetting someone was love, and throwing yourself into the fire for them was love too. Yang Shuyi’s love belonged to the first kind. Perhaps Yang Shuyi had tasted the happiness of being loved by Shao Wu and so returned a little love. But what then? Since Shao Wu refused to become a secret lover like Zou Xin and Teacher Zhang, since he refused to be the person Yang Shuyi settled for after romantic failure, he could only endure.
Whether by playing games or counting shredded paper, he could find a way to hold back. He would endure not contacting Yang Shuyi, not searching Dianping, not scrolling his Weibo, not checking his Moments, not thinking of him. Like peeling flesh from bone, strand by strand.
Perhaps one day he’d manage to carve Yang Shuyi out of his life.