2013

In fact, Chi Xiaoman had been very well behaved since she was little. Unlike other children, she never really hated hospitals.

Every time she went, she would obediently let Wang Aimei hold her hand. Even when she wrinkled her face after the injection in her bottom, tears still pooling in her eyes, she would pull her pants back up herself. But the moment Wang Aimei handed her a bag of peeled chestnuts, she could immediately sniffle and smile through her tears. Later, because hospital visits meant chestnuts, she even came to think, in her childish innocence, that going to the hospital was something happy.

It was only from the end of 2013 that she truly began to hate hospitals.

That winter.

For several nights in a row, Chi Xiaoman would hurry Chen Tong out of bed, help her put on her shoes, sweater, coat, and hat, then carry her to the hospital; under the ghastly white lights, she would register, pay, get hot water, and tuck a blanket over Chen Tong as she lay in the hospital bed, her swollen face finally beginning to go down.

She was spun around like a top, lashed by one form after another. Only when she finally managed to stop would she sit alone in the emergency room ward, or on the blue linked benches in the corridor, spacing out, nodding off, pounding at her legs and waist, worrying about Chen Tong’s trip to Hong Kong and worrying about that empty piggy bank.

And then.

Starting from one very, very deep night.

The person lying in the hospital bed, being pushed around by doctors and nurses, having electrocardiograms done, receiving CPR, being wheeled from one white room to another for all sorts of tests Chi Xiaoman couldn’t even understand, changed into Lang Lang.

At the entrance to one white room.

Lang Lang was inside getting examined. Chi Xiaoman and Chen Tong waited outside in complete confusion.

Before she fainted, Lang Lang had tossed a red passbook to Chi Xiaoman without the slightest concern; the money inside was what she had saved up over the years.

The amount wasn’t large, but to have saved that much after living in Beijing for so long—it was as if every day she had had to cut a slice of flesh from her own heart, and by year’s end those slices had been lined up neatly, coldly verified through the bank’s bill counter, deposited, then used to treat her illness.

Chi Xiaoman held the passbook, registered, paid, wandered back and forth through the hospital’s maze-like corridors, and finally managed to catch her breath long enough to go find Chen Tong, who had gone with Lang Lang for the initial tests. She saw that Chen Tong still didn’t seem to have fully broken the fever; her face was pale, she was wearing a thin padded jacket, and she sat frowning in front of the examination room with her head tipped back against the cold white wall, as if thinking about something terribly serious.

Chi Xiaoman walked over and sat down beside her.

She gently lifted Chen Tong’s head, which was starting to go slack, and carefully rested it against her own shoulder.

She held Chen Tong’s hand.

Silently, she clutched the red passbook and stared blankly at the tightly shut door of the examination room.

Chen Tong came back to herself and forced her eyelids open to look at her. “Don’t worry.”

“Mm, I’m not worried,” Chi Xiaoman whispered.

She took Chen Tong’s hand, which had already gone cold after only a short while, breathed warm air onto it, and rubbed it between her palms. “Go to sleep.”

Chen Tong said nothing. Leaning against her shoulder, she looked exhausted; even so, she squeezed Chi Xiaoman’s hand back and held on tightly, her voice hoarse as she asked, “So Lang Lang’s name is Wang Enqing?”

“Mm.” Chi Xiaoman buried her chin in her thick old coat. “She doesn’t like being called Wang Enqing.”

“But changing your name requires the household register, and she never wanted to go back to that place, so she kept making me call her Lang Lang.”

Chen Tong was quiet for a moment. “Why Lang Lang?”

“I don’t know.” Chi Xiaoman shook her head, trying with difficulty to search through her memories. “She said it sounded like a weepy melodrama. She said she wanted to act in wuxia films.”

She stared off blankly for a bit, then added, “Maybe because the name sounds kind of wuxia-like.”

“Or maybe because she wanted it to sound a little livelier when other people said it.”

Chi Xiaoman explained, “That’s why she’d pick fights with me for no reason all the time.”

Chen Tong nodded.

Chi Xiaoman fell silent too.

This was an old hospital, built many years ago; it was small, and the inpatient and outpatient buildings enclosed by the surrounding walls were only low, squat structures, no higher than six floors. From the outside, the concrete looked blackish gray; inside, it was a yellowed white. The floors were low, pressing down on people until they could barely breathe. They didn’t have much experience, so whenever anything happened, they basically came to this nearest hospital.

Two hours earlier, Chi Xiaoman had hurried inside carrying the unconscious Lang Lang on her back. When she looked up and saw the hospital sign already broken, she hoped the illness Lang Lang had was something this hospital could handle.

The corridors were painted white, and the lights were bright—so bright they hurt to look at. A stretcher rushed past them, the patient on it vomiting in pain.

The vomit burst out like another heart hidden in some corner of the body, lively and agitated, splattering at Chi Xiaoman’s feet.

Chi Xiaoman drew back her foot. She helped adjust the coat on Chen Tong’s shoulder, then rubbed her shoulder too.

Chen Tong’s breathing was slow; her body temperature was high. She struggled to lift a hand and cover Chi Xiaoman’s eyes, telling her, “Lang Lang will be fine.”

Chi Xiaoman hid in the dark little world Chen Tong made for her. Without the glaring white lights stabbing at her eyes, she felt much better. Sniffling, she said in a very small voice,

“Mm, maybe she’s just...”

She tucked herself against Chen Tong’s shoulder. “Just overheated.”

-

The examination took a very long time.

When Lang Lang was wheeled out, she already had enough strength to speak; most of the blood on her face had been cleaned away.

Seeing Chi Xiaoman and Chen Tong both standing there blankly,

she grinned at them. “Don’t worry. I’m not that easy to kill.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Chi Xiaoman said as she held the side of the bed, her voice low. “I told you not to spout nonsense all the time.”

“Fine,” Lang Lang sighed, then forced her eyelids open again to look at Chen Tong. “Why did you come too?”

“Go back and get some proper sleep. You still have to go to Hong Kong tomorrow,” she said, trying to persuade Chen Tong. “Having Chi Xiaoman with me is enough.”

Chen Tong shook her head. “It’s still early. I can sleep on the plane.”

Lang Lang frowned.

“Stop talking.”

Chi Xiaoman pressed her lips together. “Let us go back together after you’ve had your shot and feel a little better.”

Lang Lang suddenly fell quiet.

She didn’t bicker with Chi Xiaoman. In the silence, she was pushed into the ward. After a long while, she smiled at them and nodded weakly.

“Fine. Then let’s go back together.”

-

At the hospital, there were only emergency admissions at night.

Lang Lang was wheeled into the emergency ward for observation.

The doctor said they had prescribed some anti-inflammatory medicine.

Chi Xiaoman clutched the prescription tightly, ran to pay, and after getting the bottled IV fluids, she specifically looked them over and found that all the prescribed bottles were just simple glucose and anti-inflammatory drips.

That made her feel a little more at ease.

Carrying the bottles of drip medicine, she hurried to find the emergency nurse to put in the needle for Lang Lang.

Once the needle went in, the cold liquid flowed into Lang Lang’s blue veins.

Chi Xiaoman found her a pillow and tucked it under her head. Only then did she notice that the bright yellow tip of Lang Lang’s dyed hair had faded down to just a little at the ends.

She suddenly said, “How come you still haven’t touched up your dye for so long? In a few days, I’ll treat you to it. Get a new hairstyle for the New Year.”

“Sure.” Lang Lang smiled. The blood on her face had already been wiped clean by Chen Tong. “This time I want to dye it wine red; that color’s really popular lately.”

“Okay.” Chi Xiaoman nodded, feeling that Lang Lang’s complexion looked a little better than before. “I’ll dye mine with you.”

“Fine.” Lang Lang didn’t argue.

She yawned. “Chi Xiaoman, I’m sleepy. Stop talking to me.”

Chi Xiaoman fell silent.

She tucked the blanket around her properly, then realized Chen Tong wasn’t in the ward. Holding one of the hospital’s disposable clear plastic cups, she was about to go out to get some hot water for Lang Lang when she took a few steps and saw Chen Tong in the adjacent emergency treatment room, together with a doctor in a white coat.

In the small room crowded with medical equipment, Chen Tong sat upright with her back straight, still holding the paper she had used to wipe away Lang Lang’s blood and hadn’t had time to throw out. Her jaw was tightly set, and she looked confused. In front of Chi Xiaoman, Chen Tong had always been the adult; she rarely ever showed this kind of lost expression.

The doctor said a few words Chi Xiaoman couldn’t hear clearly.

Chen Tong paused for a long time, then nodded. The doctor sighed and got up to straighten the hospital bed.

Chen Tong turned around and saw Chi Xiaoman standing stupidly behind her with the disposable cup.

For the first time, she didn’t smile when she saw her.

The lights were glaringly white.

They looked at each other from outside and inside the door.

For a long time.

Chi Xiaoman realized the disposable cup in her hand had been crumpled into a mess.

Chen Tong walked over.

She was still coughing; her face was very pale, and she was sweating heavily too, as if even those few steps were difficult.

Then she took the cup tightly clenched in Chi Xiaoman’s hand, threw it away together with the paper in her own hand into the nearby trash can, and after a long silence said,

“Xiaoman, let’s talk first.”

-

The corridor was full of people coming and going. They sat shoulder to shoulder on the blue linked benches.

Just a moment ago, that patient’s vomit had still been there all the way from here to the examination room. But now it had been cleaned up, and the floor was smooth and bright again. It seemed that traces of a person’s existence could be erased this easily.

Chen Tong said that the doctor had just taken her aside to explain the situation clearly; Lang Lang really did have a very rare hereditary genetic disease. The odds of death were not thirty percent.

They also said that the illness was very painful, making Lang Lang feel as if she were sleeping every night with a thousand needles stuck in her veins; and that every single thing she did would feel like squeezing a drop of blood out of her body.

She didn’t know how Lang Lang had endured it all without saying a word.

“So what is it?” Chi Xiaoman didn’t know why she was asking that question.

Chen Tong was silent for a long time. “More than half.”

Chi Xiaoman said nothing.

Chen Tong reached over and took her hand.

Both of their hands were ice-cold, like snow frozen and fallen from a roof.

Then Chi Xiaoman said, “But Lang Lang will be thirty next year.”

Chen Tong parted her lips.

At first no sound came out. After a long while, she slowly said,

“I know.”

Chi Xiaoman was only twenty this year, and she had never truly faced the serious illness of someone beside her before. She didn’t know what she could say in this kind of situation, and she didn’t know why she still hadn’t started crying. After a long silence, she looked blankly at Chen Tong’s eyes and asked,

“So, Sister Chen Tong.”

It was a sincere attempt to get an answer, an answer she could follow right now, according to instructions.

“What should I do now?”

Chen Tong looked at her and said slowly, “The doctor suggests we go to another hospital. At the very least, she needs to be admitted first.”

Chi Xiaoman blinked, bewildered. “Then can another hospital cure her?”

Chen Tong didn’t speak.

The air in the hospital carried the smell of disinfectant. Many patients and family members passed in front of them; a twenty-year-old young woman and another twenty-three-year-old young woman faced each other in the face of more than half a chance of death, and no one could really know what to do next.

Then.

A young woman several years older than both of them, twenty-nine this year, came out leaning on the IV pole, wearing a thick coat. She stopped in front of them and sighed.

“Why is it that I said I wanted some hot water and nobody listened to me?”

Chi Xiaoman rubbed her eyes, which were dry and sore. “I’ll go get it for you.”

She hurried off to fetch hot water.

Lang Lang didn’t go back into the ward either; she just sat down beside Chen Tong, and as if remembering something, said slowly, “The photos from last time still haven’t been developed. Chen Tong, when you go to Hong Kong, get them developed there and bring them back for us. I heard the photos developed there are different from here; they’ll look really nice.”

Chen Tong looked at her and called softly, “Lang Lang.”

Lang Lang said nothing more.

Chi Xiaoman came back with the hot water and carefully handed it to her. “I mixed in some cool water for you; you can drink it directly.”

“Okay.” Lang Lang nodded, took the little cup of hot water, and drank several big mouthfuls. Then she let out a long breath. “I’m alive again. My mouth tasted like blood just now.”

Neither Chi Xiaoman nor Chen Tong said anything.

Lang Lang looked at them for a while, then laughed out loud. Because of that laugh, she also coughed suddenly a few times. Coughing, she pressed a hand to her chest and muttered, “You really are just two kids.”

“Fine, then the two of you listen to my arrangement.”

After coughing, Lang Lang, as if nothing had happened, briskly laid out their next steps.

“As for me, I don’t really have any family I can contact. You saw what happened yesterday, so don’t rush to call anyone; otherwise, before the illness is cured, I’ll get angry enough to die first.”

“Chen Tong, you still go to Hong Kong tomorrow—oh, today, I guess. Anyway, after you get there, go through the audition. If you pass, then everybody’s happy. If you don’t, then come back happily too, and we’ll go to Felicity Noodle Shop and eat a proper meal.”

“As for Chi Xiaoman, since you’re still in Beijing, just focus on your thesis and graduation for now. I’ll leave my passbook with you for the time being; whenever there’s a fee to pay, please help me pay it. Also, keep a tight grip on the money and don’t let anyone snatch it; I don’t have much saved up.”

“Oh, and I probably won’t be able to be discharged for a while. Chi Xiaoman, after you send Chen Tong off tomorrow, go back first and help me pack some winter clothes. Those old ones that aren’t warm can be left behind; remember to pack me a few brighter ones, nicer-looking ones. What if I end up staying until spring, right?”

“And my notebook. I still haven’t finished revising the script. There’s still one ending missing. I still have to finish writing it.”

“I still have to finish writing it,” Lang Lang repeated.

She spoke all this to the wall on her own, never once looking at the two of them, whose eyes were already red. Chi Xiaoman didn’t know whether she was afraid to look or didn’t want to look.

As if she felt she had said everything she needed to say, Lang Lang barely managed to stand, holding onto the IV pole, yawned, and said,

“I’m not going to keep you two suffering with me. I’m a patient now; I really do need to sleep.”

Chi Xiaoman stood up in a daze, following her.

Chen Tong pulled her back down and said softly, “Let her go to sleep first.”

So Chi Xiaoman stopped moving. She rubbed her eyes, sat back down, and said, “Okay.”

In the winter night, the blue plastic seats were hard and cold. Even if you sat on them for a long time, the moment you stood up again, they would immediately be cold once more.

At that time, Chi Xiaoman didn’t know that for the whole of that winter, on many nights, she would sit here just like she did tonight, staring blankly, never able to get a proper night’s sleep again.

The only difference was that on this night, she still had Chen Tong.

She shrank her shoulders and leaned against Chen Tong’s shoulder to keep warm, as if she had suddenly forgotten that Chen Tong was also a patient.

Maybe it was because Chen Tong was so dependable, the only adult she could rely on right now.

Chen Tong held her, wrapping an arm around Chi Xiaoman’s shoulders and holding her tightly. After many people had passed by, she asked, “Xiaoman, do you want to sleep for a bit?”

Chi Xiaoman shook her head. “No.”

Chen Tong nodded. After a pause, as if she had finally finished digesting what Lang Lang had just said, she said, “Let’s do what Lang Lang said for now.”

The hospital air conditioner blew in rustling gusts.

Chi Xiaoman didn’t feel warm.

She nodded, the way she used to nod at Wang Aimei with her head raised whenever she got a shot in the butt, and said to Chen Tong, “Okay.”

Chen Tong hummed once and said nothing more.

That deep night, they sat at the edge of the hospital corridor, holding each other, for a very, very long time; each of them processed it, and also encouraged the other to process the fact that had crashed down in front of them.

It was just before dawn.

Chi Xiaoman decided that once the hospital started its business hours, she would take Lang Lang to look at another hospital. She also suddenly remembered Chen Tong’s flight and thought she needed to send her home quickly so she could pack, and also go back to pack Lang Lang’s things.

She picked up her button phone, lit the screen to check the time, and then suddenly saw that in her inbox there was one missed message from yesterday—

It was from the film crew she had previously auditioned for, notifying her that she had been selected to play a supporting role in this million-yuan web drama, with a distinct personality, background, and plenty of storyline. If she saw this text, she was to come sign the contract at five o’clock this afternoon.

The filming location was Shanghai. The time was one month later.

Chi Xiaoman stared blankly for a while.

Then she turned off her phone.

Without a word, she went to check on Lang Lang, who was still sleeping deeply in the ward.

After confirming that Lang Lang would be fine for the moment, Chi Xiaoman didn’t want to wake her, so she told the nurse in the ward.

She and Chen Tong went back together to Xingfu Road.

Beijing winter mornings were lively too; everyone on the street was in a hurry.

They didn’t take a taxi. Instead, they walked to the bus stop and waited for the bus. In fact, they didn’t even really discuss how to get back; both of them seemed to have silently understood that from today on, there would be no shortage of places where money would be needed.

Chen Tong also insisted that Chi Xiaoman not carry her on her back.

After the night before, she had only slept a little on the small hospital bed, and her face looked exhausted.

The two of them walked in silence for a while. Chen Tong asked, “Xiaoman, you looked at your phone for so long just now; what was in it?”

Chi Xiaoman paused, then shook her head. “Nothing.”

Chen Tong looked at her. “Really?”

Chi Xiaoman hesitated for a moment, felt there was no point hiding it, and said,

“It was that audition I did before. I got through.”

“The one filming in Shanghai?” Chen Tong asked.

Chi Xiaoman was silent for a moment. “Yeah.”

Chen Tong nodded. Arms folded, she breathed out a puff of white vapor. “Not going?”

Chi Xiaoman blinked blankly, looking at the people around them dressed neatly and beautifully, then said with hesitation,

“I won’t go, I guess. I need to work on my thesis during this time, and I don’t have much money either.”

“Graduation comes first,” she said.

Chen Tong didn’t speak right away. To be honest, she sometimes felt she understood Chi Xiaoman very well, because this person wore everything she had in her heart on her face. But at other times, she felt she still didn’t know her well enough.

Because if the same choice were placed before both of them,

Chi Xiaoman would firmly make Chen Tong go.

But she herself would, without hesitation, make exactly the opposite decision.

“Why?” Chen Tong asked.

To a certain extent, she felt that if one of them had to give up, then it should absolutely be Chen Tong herself. Because Chi Xiaoman’s longing for that dream was much greater than Chen Tong’s.

But Chi Xiaoman thought about it for a while, then said to Chen Tong with firmness, calmness, and clarity,

“Because I think I’ll have another chance.”

“Chen Tong, Sister,” she called out, still a little dazed, blinking as if she had figured something out. “I’m still so young. I believe I’ll definitely have another chance to act.”

“But if Lang Lang is gone.”

In the winter light, she looked at her, her eyes turning red as she struggled to say the truth.

“Then that really means there won’t ever be another one.”

-

Chi Xiaoman’s words reminded Chen Tong of a long time ago, when she had still been in her third year of high school.

Chen Xiaoping had fallen seriously ill and gone to the hospital for a very high-risk surgery.

The hospital warned that Chen Xiaoping absolutely needed a caretaker. But she didn’t tell Chen Tong; instead, she found the neighbor auntie.

When making that decision, Chen Xiaoping probably hadn’t hesitated in the slightest.

Maybe Chen Tong, influenced by her at the time, had also felt a lot of fear and dread in her heart, but still subconsciously believed that this was the right choice.

But was it really?

Chen Tong suddenly wasn’t so sure.

She wanted to tell Chi Xiaoman—

Maybe we can pool our money and hire a caretaker.

Maybe I can be the one who stays behind.

Maybe we still have a way to have it both ways.

...

But then she felt that there was actually no need to say it, because she already understood that these choices of hers were not reliable—

the medical expenses needed were unbearably expensive; they couldn’t afford a caretaker. That thin red passbook would quickly be swallowed up by instruments and medicine; they needed more sources of money.

What happened last night was still vivid. If no one stayed by Lang Lang’s side and her father came looking for her again...

Compared with Chi Xiaoman, Chen Tong’s feelings for Lang Lang weren’t as deep. If one of them was destined to stay behind, if things got even worse... if, if this really was the final stretch of time, then the person who should be by Lang Lang’s side during this period, the person who should go and collect those last precious memories, ought to be Chi Xiaoman.

There was no perfect solution.

Pure ideals and feelings couldn’t cure Lang Lang; if two people were together, they couldn’t both put emotion first.

Someone had to be a little more realistic. Chen Tong would be that realistic one; she always would be.

So on the bus back to Xingfu Road,

she pinched her own palm and said very calmly,

“Then I’ll go.”

Chi Xiaoman froze, as if she hadn’t expected Chen Tong to still be thinking about this, or as if she hadn’t thought at all about what was in her heart, and would not show any misunderstanding simply because she made the completely opposite choice. She still offered her support at the first moment.

She leaned against Chen Tong’s shoulder, rubbing her cheek against it like a little cat warming itself, then slowly said, “Okay.”

As if afraid Chen Tong would feel burdened, she forced herself to comfort her too.

“It’s okay, Sister Chen Tong. Lang Lang and I will wait for you in Beijing.”

Chen Tong touched her face and said, “Okay.”

-

A lot happened that day.

Chi Xiaoman still had to hurry back to the hospital to see whether Lang Lang had woken up, so she couldn’t take a long ride to send Chen Tong to the airport.

So after they got home, she hurriedly helped Chen Tong pack her clothes for Hong Kong.

She didn’t know whether it would be cold in Hong Kong these days.

Chi Xiaoman worriedly took out the thick clothes, stuffed them in as best she could, and also crammed into the new little suitcase she had bought for Chen Tong so Chen Tong would look a little prettier at the airport: the warmers, scarf, gloves, urticaria medicine, a pair of thick fluffy boots, thick slippers, and that necklace packed in a small box... all of it.

She even insisted on boiling a kettle of water, pouring it into a thermos, and making Chen Tong take it with her to drink on the way.

At first Chen Tong was packing on her own, but when she saw Chi Xiaoman searching out more and more things, she stopped speaking and quietly watched as she found many items Chen Tong probably wouldn’t need this winter, then obediently sorted them and packed them in.

At last.

The two of them went downstairs together.

Chi Xiaoman insisted on pushing the suitcase herself and sending Chen Tong to the bus stop.

Whether out of laziness or something else, the morning bus was hard to catch.

Chi Xiaoman waited for a while, then suddenly remembered something. “Sister Chen Tong, haven’t you eaten breakfast yet?”

Chen Tong said she hadn’t.

“Then wait for me!”

Chi Xiaoman threw out those words and ran off from the bus stop, running several streets away to the steamed bun shop Chen Tong loved, bought a few pork buns, and then ran back, panting.

The bus still hadn’t come. Or maybe they had already missed one.

Chen Tong was wearing a black padded coat, a suitcase beside her feet, and a black bag slung over her shoulder. She stood under the bus stop sign waiting for her, her face blown a little pale, a little red by the wind.

Chi Xiaoman walked over with the buns tucked in her arms.

Only after she reached Chen Tong did she slowly take out the buns she had been holding against her chest for fear they’d get cold, split them open, and with disposable chopsticks carefully picked out all the scallions from inside, then fed the chosen little piece, still steaming, to Chen Tong.

Chen Tong bit off a piece.

So Chi Xiaoman kept picking, kept feeding.

The split-open bun steamed their eyes. Chi Xiaoman didn’t look at Chen Tong.

But Chen Tong kept looking at her.

In the end, Chen Tong wouldn’t let her feed her anymore.

Chen Tong took the chopsticks from her hand, broke off a piece of the bun, and put it into Chi Xiaoman’s mouth.

Chi Xiaoman opened her mouth and bit down, chewed a few times, then swallowed it whole.

Chen Tong fed her a few more bites too.

After that, the two buns were finished between them. There were still two left.

After a moment of silence, Chen Tong suddenly said, “Chi Xiaoman, it’s not like I’m never coming back.”

Chi Xiaoman’s movement paused.

She was very afraid of the cold; in winter, she chilled easily, and by now her cheeks and ears were already red from the wind. “Mm, I know.”

The bus in the distance slowly approached, the winter air pale with white vapor. Chi Xiaoman looked hard for a while, and only then dared to look into Chen Tong’s eyes. She also forced out a smile and said slowly,

“I just want you to be full. I don’t want you to go hungry.”

Chen Tong sighed.

She walked over.

She hugged her and said softly,

“Dummy.”

Chi Xiaoman pressed her face against hers, sniffled, and said, “Got it. I won’t overthink it.”

The bus had already pulled up beneath the stop sign and opened its doors with a whoosh. Chen Tong touched her face, then said quietly, “Mm. I’ll call you once I get there.”

“Okay.”

Chi Xiaoman agreed, and then noticed that Chen Tong was hugging her very tightly, as if using a great deal of force. She struggled to push her away and urged her, “Hurry and get on. Don’t miss your flight.”

“Okay.” Chen Tong nodded.

She touched Chi Xiaoman’s face, but still didn’t move.

The driver inside the bus looked impatient. “Are you getting on or not?”

“I am, I am.”

Chi Xiaoman agreed, then hurriedly wiped at the corners of her eyes, took Chen Tong’s hand in hers, and together they lifted the suitcase onto the bus.

Afraid of delaying things, she quickly let go of Chen Tong’s hand and awkwardly jumped back down.

Chi Xiaoman stood stiffly by the road.

Before she could even say anything—

the bus door whooshed shut.

Through the misted-up door, the woman standing there looked very thin, very blurred.

Chi Xiaoman waved hard at Chen Tong.

The bus let out a breath like a big dog exhaling, then started moving. Chi Xiaoman, wearing a reddish-brown padded jacket, was left behind like a grain of dirt.

Chen Tong turned to look at her from inside the bus. At that moment, her face seemed full of urgency, and as the bus rolled farther away, she made a great effort to wave back at her.

Her breath blurred on the glass. The woman’s face grew more and more indistinct.

Chi Xiaoman suddenly felt such a pain in her chest, as if a huge piece had been ripped out of her by the bus. She couldn’t help running after it for a few steps, but a person could never outrun a vehicle.

So in the end, she couldn’t keep chasing.

She staggered, her toe striking a stone.

She used her sleeve to wipe her tear-soaked face.

Forced to stand in place, she raised her hand one last time toward the bus and waved stupidly.

[Author’s Note]

On time with Little Neon for the forty-seventh day [sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses] (today I can wear ten thousand pairs of sunglasses)

TL Note:

overheated (上火) means a Chinese folk-medical idea of “internal heat” that can cause minor inflammation or discomfort.