Chapter 15: Until Everything Is Known

Seeing Yudong hurrying downstairs, Yezhe didn’t say anything more.

After waiting a few minutes, the sound of footsteps hurriedly coming upstairs echoed from the stairway.

After handing the cleaning tools to Yezhe, Yudong lowered her eyes, not looking at Yezhe at all, and buried herself in cleaning the private room.

“You, exactly…”

The words that had reached his lips were swallowed back by Yezhe.

Since she didn’t want to talk, then I will stay silent too.

Thinking this, Yezhe also joined the battle.

The two of them were separated by only half a table’s distance.

The hum of the air conditioner wrapped around the cicadas’ cries outside the window, as if a thin veil lay over the words left unsaid.

“Goodbye.”

“Mm.”

Until the Sun set, until it was time to part.

The Sunset Glow disappeared beyond the horizon, and the pale violet that lingered in the sky was proof of its presence.

The Moon quietly rose, its light passing through the curtains, veiling the cleaned private room, and veiling Yudong’s heart as well.

The emotions that were so hard to show were swallowed up by her fragile body, thin as a cicada’s wing.

Does it hurt?

It hurts, it hurts very much.

Honestly, she didn’t even want to think anymore.

Rather than being torn apart until there was nothing left but blood and flesh by those emotions, Yudong might as well become a walking corpse.

No need to think, no need to strive,

No need to worry.

Can you hold it in?

You can’t.

Some people are just born weak-handed, unable to open a tightly sealed bottle cap.

But what if you were the one who screwed that bottle cap on in the first place?

The next day, the third day, the fourth day.

A week.

Lately, the sunsets have all seemed endless.

Every afternoon, they fill the entire Store with golden light, and on days when the Sun shines brightest, it almost dazzles the eyes.

Yet, that light cannot shine into the heart Yudong has closed off once again.

During this week, except for the necessary exchanges during work, Yudong hadn’t spoken an extra word to anyone.

It wasn’t that no one tried to talk to her—on the contrary, Yezhe reached out several times.

Summer is, after all, the hottest season of the year, and with so many people in the restaurant, you’d be covered in sweat just sitting inside for a while, even with a Fan running.

Coming out of the kitchen, Yezhe saw Yudong sitting in the hall resting, so he doubled back and fetched two Bottled Sodas he’d stashed in the icebox, setting them down in front of Yudong.

Doing his best to keep his expression natural, Yezhe nudged the Bottled Soda on the table toward her.

“It’s so hot, have a drink.

We don’t even sell this drink at our Store.”

“Give it a try, it’s pretty good…”

No reaction.

Yudong just sat there in a daze, her eyes blank as if Yezhe didn’t exist in this world.

The Plastic Bottle radiated cold, droplets clinging to its surface and slowly dripping onto the table, but none of this had anything to do with Yudong.

Even after the moisture on the bottle had dried, the girl hadn’t touched the Bottled Soda at all.

This girl… is really impossible to understand.

In the end, that now-room temperature Bottled Soda was put back in the icebox.

…

Busyness really can make people forget pain, but only temporarily.

…

“Thanks for today.”

“Mm.”

After mealtime, things quieted down.

The air was filled with the aroma of leftover dishes.

Yezhe hung the freshly washed cloth on a hook, pressed his aching waist with his palm, slid down with his back against the counter, and half-reclined on the Plastic Chair.

The Mobile Phone’s cold screen glimmered pale blue across his face.

He’d just draped his arm over the back of the chair to rest for a while when he saw Yudong putting on her coat, getting ready to leave.

Her abrupt response was as soft as a breeze, her hurried footsteps fading into the distance as Yudong pushed open the door and walked straight out without so much as glancing at Yezhe.

The sound of the wind chime hanging on the door echoed through the hall, then stopped, and the space fell silent.

All that warmth meeting a cold shoulder.

“No need to be so distant…”

Muttering to himself for a while, Yezhe lay back again and started fiddling with his little Mobile Phone.

Heh, this little phone is really fun.

He tossed aside that cold shoulder from earlier—really, after a day’s work, watching a few ghostly videos was the best way to relax.

Yezhe just lay there, swiping through video after video.

Until—

“Please, anyone who sees this video, help me…”

Ah…

Usually when Yezhe saw these kinds of help videos, he’d just like them and swipe on.

But today was different.

The video’s subject was a crumpled critical illness notice.

Yezhe was about to swipe away, but then several photos of a mother and daughter flashed on screen, and he froze.

His finger paused.

Yezhe stared at the screen in silence.

The girl in the photo wore a low ponytail, the ends curling slightly, giving Yezhe an odd sense of familiarity.

Though her eyes were heavily censored, that slim wrist poking out from the sleeve…

Looked like Yudong…

A wave of nervousness hit him.

To clear his doubts, Yezhe tapped on the cute cat Profile Picture.

Immediately, in the info bar:

ip: C City

It couldn’t be such a coincidence…?

His raised hand hovered above his head, messing up his hair over and over.

It should… it couldn’t be, right?

Still, he wasn’t convinced. To shake off the suspicion, Yezhe scrolled through the Account’s earlier posts.

Seems like… maybe… he’d guessed right.

When the voice played through his earphones, Yezhe’s pupils shrank sharply.

That was obviously her voice, wasn’t it?

In the video, the girl didn’t show her face. The camera was pointed at her clothes as she sang a cover of a song from a Japanese drama.

And that T-shirt…

Wasn’t that the very one she’d worn the day she first came here…!?

His mind raced furiously.

So that means…

Thinking it over, Yezhe opened the private messages, typed out a message, deleted it, then opened the input box again.

Forget it, better to ask her in person when there’s a chance.

Shaking his head, he deleted the message he’d written three times, then went back to the help video and left a short message of encouragement.

Yezhe exited Yudong’s personal page, gave her Account a follow, and continued enjoying his “relaxing time”.

Or so he thought.

But after knowing the truth, how could there be any “relaxing time”…?

The uneasiness growing heavier in his heart, Yezhe felt that the wind from the air conditioner was now cutting cold.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city…

Hospital bed, disinfectant, IV Drip, moonlight, and sorrow.

“Mom, your daughter found a job recently.”

The Monitoring Device in the Ward beeped steadily, making the smell of disinfectant seem even colder.

Moonlight slipped through the window crack, landing on the IV Drip at the bedside.

Water droplets slid down the inside of the plastic tube, tracing all the way to Yudong’s face.

“If you woke up, you’d definitely scold me… for not going to school and all.”

Get better, please get better…

Yudong stared fixedly at the thin woman lying on the bed, finally burying her head in the covers.

“At least, at least wake up and look at me… please.”

Her tearful voice broke in the air, swallowed up by the machine’s beeping, vanishing without a trace.

Yuling sat on a low stool by the bedside, lifting that withered hand, pressing its palm against her cheek.

So cold.

That hand—so very familiar to Yudong—transmitted not just a chill, but a sharp pain.

The sting started from her cheek, passed through her blood vessels, and finally stabbed into her heart, like a thin needle threading through her bloodstream, piercing her chest, and stabbing into her heart, making Yudong’s breathing tremble.

It wasn’t heart-wrenching agony, but it was painful enough.

If the sorrow she’d felt the moment her mother collapsed was like sinking to the bottom of the sea, suffocating, then this current chill was like water flooding into her nose.

That moment’s pain was overwhelming darkness, swallowing her whole so she couldn’t even scream; but now, the pain crept up bit by bit, so clear with each second that it made her want to run.

Not as despairing as suffocation, but every breath carried unbearable pain.

Yudong didn’t notice time passing; she just sat there.

Until… the door of the Ward was pushed open.