Praised by Tan Sizhe, Ye Mingxuan felt his face flush. Recalling what had just happened, he found it hard to believe himself.
Tan Sizhe lay back down on the bed. Sunlight streamed in beside him, illuminating his brow and eyes. “Have you eaten?”
Ye Mingxuan: “I ate before coming back.”
Tan Sizhe nodded, patting the space beside him. “Come over.”
Ye Mingxuan paused, then lowered himself onto the bed. Seconds later, the man drew close, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“Are you tired, sir?”
Ye Mingxuan dared not move, sensing only the faint weariness in the man’s breath.
Tan Sizhe murmured hoarsely, “Not too bad. Just busy with work lately.”
“Come back to the old house with me for winter break.”
Ye Mingxuan perked up. “The old house?”
Tan Sizhe nodded. “Yeah. Don’t want to?”
Ye Mingxuan shook his head. “No, no, not at all.”
Tan Sizhe nuzzled his neck and shoulder. “The old house is in a great location. Warm in winter, cool in summer—perfect for the season.”
Hearing this, Ye Mingxuan felt like a small animal curling up to sleep deep into winter.
Ye Mingxuan stared at the ceiling, where an ornate chandelier swayed gently.
“Don’t worry.” The man’s voice was rough and hoarse, coming from the side of his neck, accompanied by warm breath that tickled him. “This time, there are no outsiders involved.”
Ye Mingxuan’s heart skipped a beat. He pressed his lips together, his eyes bright and glistening, mist gathering at the corners: “Mm.”
After a while, the man fell silent. Ye Mingxuan turned to see Tan Sizhe’s peaceful sleeping face, faint dark circles lingering beneath his eyes.
Ye Mingxuan stared for a moment, then carefully moved Tan Sizhe’s arm aside. He dashed to the bathroom and returned with a tube of eye cream.
He crawled back onto the bed, leaned close to the man, opened the eye cream, dabbed a bit onto his finger, let it melt, and gently applied it under Tan Sizhe’s eyes.
Tan Sizhe’s face was too handsome to let go to waste.
After applying it, a little remained on his finger. Ye Mingxuan paused, then dabbed it under his own eyes as well.
–
Winter had arrived, and the weather turned colder. Ye Mingxuan was awakened by the howling wind outside the window. Opening his eyes, he could see the sun shining outside.
When he got up, Tan Sizhe was no longer in the bedroom, but he had left Ye Mingxuan’s clothes by the bedside.
A white wool sweater and fleece-lined jeans. Ye Mingxuan grabbed them, felt the fabric, tucked them under the covers to warm up, then slipped into his clothes from beneath the blankets before stepping out to put on his wool coat.
The clothes were all new. Ye Mingxuan hadn’t slept well the previous night, his mind racing with excitement because today held something important.
He stepped out briskly, but as soon as he opened the door, his left foot tripped over his right. Just as he was about to fly out, Tan Sizhe caught him.
Still shaken, Ye Mingxuan clutched Tan Sizhe’s clothes tightly: “Sir…”
Tan Sizhe steadied him: “Awake? Do the clothes fit?”
Ye Mingxuan beamed. “Yes!”
Tan Sizhe nodded. “We’ll leave after breakfast.”
Ye Mingxuan ate exceptionally fast that morning, practically shoveling food into his mouth. After finishing, he looked up at Tan Sizhe with wide, expectant eyes.
Tan Sizhe had been reading the newspaper, but the intense gaze beside him was too much to ignore. He silently set it aside and began eating with focused concentration. Today, he too ate without chewing slowly, finishing twice as fast as usual.
Ye Mingxuan shot to his feet, dashed to the entryway to wrap his camel-colored scarf around his neck, and turned back just as the man slipped on his coat. Ye Mingxuan called over his shoulder, “Goodbye, Aunt Fu!”
Aunt Fu waved at him. “See you tonight!”
Tan Sizhe and Ye Mingxuan went down to the underground garage and got into the car. Ye Mingxuan was too nervous to sit still, fidgeting with his scarf as he stared out the window.
His eyes darted around the sky, oblivious to the man’s silence behind him.
Tan Sizhe rested one hand on his thigh, idly flipping through his phone while stealing glances at Ye Mingxuan’s nape.
After driving for over an hour, they arrived at a small village. Ye Mingxuan got out and walked over to Tan Sizhe. Tan Sizhe put his arm around Ye Mingxuan’s shoulder as they approached a small wooden house. He knocked on the wooden gate.
“Coming.” An aged voice echoed from behind the door.
Ye Mingxuan waited a moment before the door opened, revealing an elderly man. Ye Mingxuan’s gaze shifted to the old man’s eyes, noticing his sclerae were white, surrounded by a faint ring of reddish blood vessels.
A sense of reverence welled up in Ye Mingxuan. “Good day, old man.”
The old man’s lifeless white eyes shifted twice, as if able to see Ye Mingxuan. “Hello, come in and find a chair to sit on. I cannot see.”
Ye Mingxuan nodded, exchanged a glance with Tan Sizhe, and stepped inside. Though blind, the elderly man moved with remarkable familiarity from the courtyard into the house, clearly having lived here for many years.
The wooden hut was sparsely furnished—a simple wooden table stood in the center, while behind it, a worn wall held an altar with a statue of Guanyin. Red incense sticks had been burning for some time, their pungent ash mingling with dripping wax as it settled onto the altar.
Ye Mingxuan avoided looking around awkwardly, sitting quietly by the table. He glanced nervously at Tan Sizhe, who promptly asked the old man, “What should we do?”
The old man’s face was etched with deep, weathered lines. “Mr. Mingxuan, you may stay here alone. Mr. Tan, please wait in the courtyard for a moment.”
Tan Sizhe nodded, patted Ye Mingxuan’s shoulder reassuringly, then stepped outside and closed the door.
The moment the door shut, the air inside thickened noticeably. Ye Mingxuan covered his mouth and coughed twice, his earnest gaze fixed on the old man. “Elder, what do I need to do?”
The old man trembled as he reached into a cabinet, pulling out several sheets of yellow paper, a brush, and a paper-burning basin. “Write down what you wish to say and place it in the basin.”
Ye Mingxuan examined the items on the table, nodded solemnly, unfolded the yellow paper, and smoothed it out. Holding the brush like a ballpoint pen, he dipped it in ink.
What did he want to say?
Ye Mingxuan pressed the tip of the brush onto the paper:
Dad, are you doing well?
Do you still get sick?
Dad, please don’t work so hard anymore. I’ll burn lots and lots of money for you. I’ll make you a little rich man.
Ye Mingxuan wiped the corner of his eye, afraid tears would stain the yellow paper, and continued writing:
I got into A University—the best university in City A. Can this be something you’re proud of?
Dad, could you visit me in my dreams more often? Even if it’s just a few minutes each time—no, even a few seconds would be enough. I just want to see you.
The flames shot up nearly waist-high as the paper was consumed, its ashes crackling. Ye Mingxuan’s face was silhouetted in the orange-red glow as he looked at the elderly man across from him.
…
Tan Sizhe crouched in the courtyard, a tickle in his throat prompting him to reach into his pocket for a cigarette. Suddenly remembering he’d thrown away all his cigarettes after Ye Mingxuan’s pregnancy, he withdrew his hand.
Noticing the sky already turning gray, he rose and sought shelter under the eaves.
Hearing a frenzied growl, Tan Sizhe turned to see a large wolfdog, chained up, baring its teeth and glaring at him as if ready to lunge.
“Shh.” Tan Sizhe pressed his index finger to his lips and glared coldly at it. The wolfdog suddenly backed down, whimpered twice, and lay down playing dead….
The old man’s white eyes flickered a few times, appearing almost transparent in the firelight.
Ye Mingxuan waited anxiously, but the old man remained silent for a full two minutes. Only when the firelight faded and dark clouds rolled in, obscuring the sun, did Ye Mingxuan lower his head in disappointment.
“Mingxuan.”
Ye Mingxuan froze, looking up in alarm. His eyes widened, his heart clenching painfully. “Dad… Dad…”
It was still the old man’s weathered face, but now it wore a warmer smile than before, as if truly recognizing familiar features: “I heard you got into University A. Daddy’s so happy! I knew I was right—you’re my pride and joy. Now I can brag to all the neighbors!”
Tears instantly welled up in Ye Mingxuan’s eyes, blurring his vision. He quickly wiped them away, desperate to see more clearly.
“Dad’s doing just fine. I’m working in an office now, not busy at all. Save your money for yourself. You’re still young, with a long life ahead. There will be plenty of things to spend it on.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he continued, “I didn’t visit you in your dreams because I feared it would upset you. I never imagined it would cause you even more pain. I’m sorry.”
Ye Mingxuan shook his head violently. “Dad, don’t apologize.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll visit you in your dreams often from now on.”
Ye Mingxuan was already sobbing uncontrollably. He choked out, “Mm.”
“Mingxuan, take good care of yourself.”
“I will… I will…”
Suddenly, the dark clouds parted. Gentle rays of sunlight illuminated the room. Ye Mingxuan lifted his tear-stained face. The old man still wore that unruffled expression, calmly facing him: “All right, Mr. Mingxuan. It’s time to go.”
Tan Sizhe pushed open the door, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. Ye Mingxuan rose and bowed to the old man: “Thank you.”
The driver escorted him outside to the car. Tan Sizhe walked to the doorway, turning to face the old man: “Thank you. I’ll transfer the money to your account.”
The old man rolled his eyes twice and waved his hand. “No charge.”
He turned and walked back inside, his back hunched. “I only help those destined to meet me.”
Tan Sizhe paused, unusually slow to process, gazing at the old man’s retreating back. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“Sir!” Ye Mingxuan leaned against the car window, smiling like a spring columbine—light and free.
Tan Sizhe nodded, closing the yard’s weathered wooden gate, battered by wind and rain, and stepped into the bright sunlight. “I’m here.”
