E ⋆ Chapter 20

The elderly on hospital beds were nearly all alike. Fading away, aged, frail.

Although Yang Zhongyin slept in the top-floor suite of his own hospital, Yu Zhinian’s grandfather often could only sleep in the hospital corridor, but Yu Zhinian felt they looked very similar, and the smells around them were very similar too.

Disinfectant alcohol, hospital gowns, and the smell of serious illness. Because Yang Zhongyin was sick, he no longer wore cologne.

In those first days after coming out of the surgery room, Yang Zhongyin would often startle awake, gasping for breath and calling Yu Zhinian awake.

His eyes would be wide open, gripping tightly at the handrail by the hospital bed, blocking away the two caregivers who came over, only letting Yu Zhinian help him sit up.

Once his emotions settled, Yu Zhinian could sit down and read a book to him.

When Yang Zhongyin ate, underwent examinations, or even had himself cleaned up, he needed Yu Zhinian by his side, as if worried the caregivers would mistreat the patient.

Yu Zhinian’s sleep became fragmented, and his mental state was not good either. During the day he was always like a wandering ghost, and often the moment he saw a book, he would unconsciously want to pick it up and read a few lines to Yang Zhongyin.

Only when Yang Ke came to visit each evening could his mood lighten somewhat.

One day, when Yang Ke arrived, Yang Zhongyin was sleeping. That day had been sunny during the daytime, but the temperature was very cold.

Yu Zhinian remembered that night’s sky was deep blue, like a frozen lake.

He and Yang Ke took a walk in the hospital corridor, sat for a while in the glass room, and he fell asleep leaning against Yang Ke. Yang Ke’s body was very warm, with the scent of laundry products the same as his own, but also somehow different, always giving him a sense of reliability, and he had a very beautiful dream.

Dreaming of Yang Ke, and their future life together.

When he woke, there were only the two of them, which made Yu Zhinian momentarily believe that such a life would truly come to pass.

Yu Zhinian felt he could hide his feelings and simply stay by Yang Ke’s side. After all, feelings seemed to not be something Yang Ke needed at the moment.

The change should have happened after Yang Ke left that day, though Yu Zhinian had not yet realized it at the time.

That day Yang Ke left, and Yu Zhinian sat by Yang Zhongyin’s side as usual.

Yang Zhongyin had the two caregivers leave the room first, and just as Yu Zhinian was about to read to him, Yang Zhongyin suddenly asked: “Zhinian, what do you feel about Yang Ke?”

Yu Zhinian, holding the copy of “La Dame aux Camélias” that Yang Zhongyin loved him to read, looked up at the sound and gazed at Yang Zhongyin.

Yang Zhongyin looked directly at him, his eyes somewhat clouded, and perhaps due to his posture, the wrinkles on his lower jaw and neck hung loosely.

Yu Zhinian had lived in this household for several years and had learned some ways of dealing with Yang Zhongyin. He met Yang Zhongyin’s gaze for a moment and said softly: “Grandpa, I didn’t quite understand what you meant.”

Yang Zhongyin suddenly smiled and said: “Zhinian, you don’t need to pretend with Grandpa.”

“You send Yang Ke so many messages every day, and sometimes when you’re talking to him, your face turns red,” he said. “Zhinian, with so many signs like these, only a child wouldn’t be able to tell. You like Yang Ke, don’t you.”

Yu Zhinian didn’t know what Yang Zhongyin meant by it, only felt a rush of heat flood his face, and sat stunned for a long moment without speaking.

“I’m someone who has been through it,” Yang Zhongyin said, “and once had someone I liked. I know what it feels like to love someone.”

He smiled again, his gaze shifting toward the window as if recalling something, and after a brief silence, he said: “Back then I had just started university. I was the poorest student in the school, and could only get a couple of ounces of plain white rice from the cafeteria each day, but she never looked down on me, and would even quietly add dishes to my plate.

“The person who treated me best in this world was her. When I was in my fourth year, I had no money for the exams, and she didn’t have much either, but she always found a way to scrape together enough and gave it to me.

“The day I left, she came to see me off, pressed a thick stack of money into my hands, and told me that once I got there, I must never let myself suffer.

“We promised to write letters often, but once I got to school, I could never reach her again. After much effort asking around, someone from the school said she had gone back to her hometown.”

Yang Zhongyin’s eyes carried a faint pain, as if he were looking through the air at the girl he had once loved. Then he suddenly turned his head to look at Yu Zhinian and said: “Zhinian, love is very precious. You should speak it out loud. Don’t miss the chance.”

Yu Zhinian had never heard Yang Zhongyin speak so openly and earnestly about his own story before, and he was somewhat moved by it, but his reason remained intact, so he said nothing.

“Zhinian,” Yang Zhongyin looked at him again and asked seriously, “tell me. I won’t interfere with Yang Ke in any way. Grandpa just cares about you and wants to know about your feelings.”

He looked down at his own aged hands, touched the indwelling needle on the back of his hand, and said to Yu Zhinian: “Grandpa doesn’t have much time left, Zhinian. I know it myself. Even if this surgery is successful, I don’t have many years left to live. You can tell this old man freely. Just treat me as a dead thing that can only listen and won’t speak.”

Yang Zhongyin rarely spoke such disheartened, self-deprecating words. Seeing him like this, Yu Zhinian’s heart ached, and he couldn’t help but say: “Grandpa, you’ll live to a hundred. As long as you rest and recuperate well——”

“I know my own body well enough,” Yang Zhongyin said quietly, cutting him off. “Don’t comfort me, Zhinian.”

Yang Zhongyin lay on the smart hospital bed, the blanket covering most of his body, the blue hospital gown wrapped around him. He looked far more aged and frail than when Yu Zhinian had first seen him several years ago. His lips were dry, his eyes clouded. He truly had the appearance of someone in their twilight years.

Yu Zhinian looked at him and said nothing more.

After half a minute, Yang Zhongyin asked Yu Zhinian again: “You like Yang Ke, don’t you, Zhinian.”

Yu Zhinian thought for a long time before finally admitting: “Yes.”

“But I don’t want to tell him.” Yu Zhinian added.

Yang Zhongyin immediately said: “I understand.” And then told Yu Zhinian: “But there is nothing wrong with loving someone. You don’t need to place such high moral demands on yourself.”

Yu Zhinian obediently said “yes” and replied: “Okay, Grandpa.”

There was a brief silence between them, and then Yang Zhongyin said: “Zhinian, go ahead and read ‘La Dame aux Camélias’ to me.”

Yu Zhinian opened the book, found the page with the bookmark, and continued reading to him.

That evening, Yu Zhinian returned to his cot around midnight to sleep.

As he lay down, he felt very uneasy, and for some reason his mind was unsettled. He glanced over at Yang Zhongyin’s hospital bed. The night light in the room was dim, and he only saw Yang Zhongyin’s blanket move slightly.

A few days later, Yang Zhongyin was discharged from the hospital. Yu Zhinian was also given permission to return to school.

Attorney Li Lu began frequenting the house often. At that time Yang Zhongyin told him it was for discussions about the company’s power redistribution, and Yu Zhinian didn’t think much of it.

He and Yang Ke received several acceptance letters and chose the same school.

The day before Yu Zhinian was to accompany Yang Zhongyin to the mountains for recuperation, Yang Ke taught Yu Zhinian how to do the backstroke.

Yu Zhinian didn’t know how to move his limbs and could only awkwardly float on his back on the surface of the pool, with Yang Ke standing beside him.

The swimming facility was spacious, the water a brilliant blue, and the ceiling’s suspended structure was like a white pyramid, reflecting soft rippling patterns of light. Beyond the narrow arched floor-to-ceiling windows at the top, the greenery grew vibrantly, as if about to pierce through the glass and grow into the swimming facility to absorb the cool air.

“Move your hands,” Yang Ke said softly, stirring Yu Zhinian’s wrist in the water, clasping it and mimicking an up-and-down motion. “How can you be so clumsy.”

Yu Zhinian did as Yang Ke said and moved his hand, and Yang Ke laughed.

“Yu Zhinian,” he said, “you should just give up on learning.”

“No,” Yu Zhinian said vaguely, “I can learn it.”

Yang Ke had no choice but to tell him: “Fine then.”

This was the last memory Yu Zhinian had, from the age of eighteen to the age of twenty-four, of Yang Ke opening his heart to him.

He treasured that day very much.

Yu Zhinian sometimes felt that for him, perhaps a Yang Ke who was happy on that day was more precious to him than his own love.

——Observation Analysis Diary (III)

Topic: Preface to the Notes

(Recorder: Yu Zhinian Date: 2016.3.1)

During class this afternoon, the professor gave an example using his observation analysis notes on his daughter’s growth.

Gained inspiration, and decided to also record situations from occasional encounters, making an observation analysis diary as a small comfort to myself.