This farewell felt long yet fleeting.
Apart from the critical alerts, the doctors shared little. Grandpa Li was frail, barely holding on.
Even if he survived this time, the next crisis would likely come soon.
Yet outside the emergency room, people prayed desperately, hoping it would be a false alarm once again.
Late at night, the corridor was silent.
Somewhere along the way, Li Jichuan had grasped Su Pu’s hand, resting it on his lap.
Though exhausted, his mind remained sharp.
One of the arriving nurses had dozed off, leaving Su Pu and Li Jichuan silently sitting side by side, each lost in their thoughts, staring at the blank wall ahead.
“What if… Grandpa doesn’t wake up?” Li Jichuan finally asked. Su Pu startled, his shoulder trembling.
He reached for his phone, but before typing, Li Jichuan let out a self-deprecating laugh.
“Honestly… even if he wakes up, I wouldn’t know what to do either…”
“Xiao Pu…” Li Jichuan’s eyes reddened, but no tears fell. He looked at him with despair.
“Think about it… last time Grandpa survived, I was still stubborn, always talking back, unwilling to go along with him, always too busy… Seeing him only a few times a week, defying him even when present… Could he have regretted living so hard for nothing?”
His voice cracked, choking on grief and restraint.
“I regret it so much… Su Pu, I regret it so much.”
He imagined the world Grandpa Li saw after waking—unable to speak, unable to feed himself for a long time, denied favorite foods and coffee…
Grandson busy with work every day, daughter calculating his inheritance, everyone bustling in and out, leaving him at the bedside, staring at death.
Yet, whenever he came, Grandpa must have been happy, right?
He wanted to hear him speak, to know what he was up to, to share his life, witness his emotions.
But he… aside from a few words, had given little real companionship.
Humans are strange!
Only when facing imminent loss do they care. Once the danger passes, they take things for granted.
This regret proved not just his slowness and stubbornness, but also his laziness and unchanging ways.
It was all his fault.
Li Jichuan lowered his head, stifling his sobs.
Seeing him break down, Su Pu felt uneasy.
They had rushed out too quickly; pockets searched, he couldn’t even find a tissue, so he awkwardly used his free hand to wipe Li Jichuan’s tears.
Having lost Zhao Qing early, Su Pu couldn’t remember grief over losing a loved one, and he was anxious at not being able to empathize with Li Jichuan.
He stood, intending to fetch tissues from Grandpa’s room.
“I’ll go…” Li Jichuan sniffed. “I’ll handle it. Otherwise, if Uncle Wang wakes and sees me like this, he’ll feel worse.”
He reassured Su Pu:
“Stay here with Uncle Wang. If anything happens, call me, I’ll be back immediately.”
Su Pu nodded, worry written all over his face.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it…” Li Jichuan patted his hand and let go.
Su Pu gave a nod, silently promising to keep watch.
…
The room was on the same floor, around the corner, about a hundred meters toward the elevator, first room.
Grandpa Li was not there; the room felt emptier.
Li Jichuan remotely maneuvered his wheelchair, took a tissue box from the table, and was about to leave when he noticed Grandpa’s drawer wasn’t fully closed.
A few documents peeked from the gap.
Li Jichuan straightened them. Grandpa Li had an almost obsessive attention to detail.
When he first moved in with Grandpa after losing his parents, he had nearly been driven mad by such strict rules.
Now, he realized that those exacting standards had shaped his meticulous, flawless personality.
As he was about to close the drawer, a black-screened phone suddenly lit up.
He picked it up. Heavy, thick, and old—a brand he had never heard of.
Why would Grandpa Li use this?
He tapped the screen; the screensaver revealed a photo of him.
In high school uniform, holding a trophy—blurred, likely a photo of a photo.
Li Jichuan swiped—it unlocked immediately.
The page displayed a notes app, “Syncing” icon rotating at the top right, with a list of saved notes.
Instinctively, he opened the first note.
[Today I went with Mr. Li to try wedding clothes. He looked great even in the sample! But mine still needs tailoring. We had Yunnan cuisine for lunch; he said you love their flavor, and every time he eats there, it reminds him of home. I think whenever he wants Yunnan food, he might also miss you and his parents.]
His thumb froze, scrolling to the next note.
Clearly, these were all Su Pu’s writings, intended for Grandpa Li.
But… why write these?
[Mr. Li made a game just for me… it’s actually a small demo he had been working on. Even so, I was touched! And I realized he had never forgotten me; he just didn’t know that the person from high school was me! Raimondo is about to launch public beta. Mr. Li put in so much effort—I hope it goes well!]
Li Jichuan recalled—it happened before the wedding dress fitting. The notes seemed arranged in reverse chronological order.
Still, if sharing with Grandpa, why had Su Pu deliberately hidden the high school grievances… even his confession was omitted?
This little mute—only mentioning what he could handle.
He tapped the screen again.
[It’s been a long time since I visited you; I had a cold. Worried I’d pass it to Mr. Li, but he said we’re family, we can get sick together.]
[Grandpa, Mr. Li gave me the first watch his father gave him. We even had a snowball fight—though I feel it was a bit unfair playing with a disabled person, haha. Did you see the snow? This year’s first came early. I bought a sweater for Mr. Li; he seemed happy and wore it the next day. I bought the same for you too; please get better soon!]
Little by little, these were their simplest, everyday moments.
Li Jichuan breathed deeply, his vision blurred by tears, then clearing again.
[Yesterday I got drunk—my drinking’s terrible. But what about Mr. Li when he’s drunk? Grandpa, have you seen it?]
Here, Li Jichuan couldn’t help smiling. He imagined Grandpa seeing this and smiling too.
[Grandpa, I got second place in the coffee contest—didn’t expect it! I bought a real bracelet for Mr. Li; he was so happy I decided to use my next prize money to buy him something again.]
Li Jichuan sighed, looking at the two bracelets on his wrist.
He had said before—he didn’t care if they were real or fake, as long as Su Pu gave them, he wore them.
Scrolling further back, he realized how much Su Pu had suffered before.
[Grandpa, I want to confess something. Did you notice? The bracelet I gave Mr. Li is fake. Why? Why did my mom leave me a fake bracelet? But Mr. Li has worn it all along. He’s very gentle.]
Silly, really.
Li Jichuan murmured softly, Silly, Su Pu…
His fingers moved uncontrollably, tracing the notes further back.
Now, Li Jichuan felt like a fish swimming upstream through the river of time, uncovering a truth already obvious.
[Grandpa, Mr. Li’s matters have been resolved smoothly. I helped a little. We’ll probably return by Wednesday. You must listen to the doctor and wait for us!]
[Grandpa, I’m in Yunnan… it was sudden, didn’t scare you, right? Mr. Li’s illness isn’t serious; he’s just been busy with work. I made sure he rested and even wrapped dumplings for him. He finished the whole plate. He’ll recover quickly.]
Li Jichuan gently traced the screen with his thumb, his gaze unusually tender.
The dumplings were delicious. Had he ever thanked Su Pu? And did Su Pu like the dumplings he made?
The little mute—he had been sharing updates with Grandpa all along.
No wonder so many things seemed already known…
Li Jichuan sniffled, scrolling further back:
Su Pu’s shared daily life was always joyful and filled with love, each note mentioning him.
Cheering at Ouyang’s soccer games together, meals shared, his rehabilitation progress, playful quarrels with Mantian…
The list was long; it took a while to reach the bottom.
This was the first message Su Pu left for Li Peirong:
[Grandpa, thank you for accepting me. I’ve saved the recordings Mr. Li left me on this phone—you can play them anytime. Don’t worry, I’ll keep updating his life in the notes. We will love each other, from long ago to long into the future!]
Recordings? What did this mean?
He exited the notes and saw the player beside the interface. Opening it, there were three recordings.
[If you bully me again, I’ll report it to…]
Faint memories surged vividly. Unable to wait for the clip to finish, Li Jichuan’s fingers trembled as he opened the next recording.
[What does bullying prove? Nothing… it proves nothing…]
Scrolling down, he drew a deep breath, recalling everything about that day.
[You know the Li Jichuan in senior year of high school? That’s my boyfriend—we’re going to get married someday…]
He dragged the progress bar to the beginning and replayed it.
[Senior year… we’re going to get married someday…]
Again.
[…we’re going to get married someday…]
Tears welled and fell.
So, in places he had never known, without his awareness, someone had been protecting him all along.
Grandpa Li fought in business, growing the Li Group into an empire. How could he not see whether the past actions were selfish or genuine?
At first, Li Peirong didn’t completely trust Su Pu.
Su Pu found him, played the recordings, tirelessly documented their daily lives, recording the Li Jichuan Grandpa could not see.
There was never just a “spark of fate”—Su Pu had been silently bridging these two stubborn, reserved fools all along.
The regrets Li Jichuan obsessed over were being quietly healed by Su Pu.
He had no idea—knew nothing.
This little mute voiced the love the grandfather and grandson could not express, loudly and clearly.
…
Su Pu waited a long time, still no sign of Li Jichuan. He went to check.
Luckily, he arrived to find Li Jichuan collapsed in the wheelchair, weeping uncontrollably.
Night was quiet. Li Jichuan clutched Su Pu tightly.
How should I love you?
Su Pu, I love you. I love this world!