The next day, I met Wen Lingyu again, the second day after returning to Yancheng.
We had agreed to meet at a café near the school. I arrived first, staring at the menu in bewilderment. The words were familiar, and the café was one I had frequented before. Touching the simple, plain menu gave me a surreal sense of displacement.
I chose a quiet corner to sit and waited silently for Wen Lingyu. School hadn’t officially started yet, but students were beginning to arrive, and the café was sparsely populated.
I stared at the small potted plant on the table, my mind blank. Gradually, the surrounding voices faded, and I shivered for no apparent reason.
It was too quiet, and my thoughts immediately returned to that lonely stilted house. Most of the time, there was no sound there, only the echo of one’s own breathing.
Growing restless, I stood to change my seat. But before I could move, a figure hurriedly sat down in front of me.
“Sorry I’m late,” Wen Lingyu said softly, “this one’s on me.”
The presence of someone immediately dissolved the unease that had shadowed me. I looked up and met the face of Wen Lingyu, whom I hadn’t seen in months. She seemed thinner, her eyes sunken, her face pale and worn.
“No need, there’s no reason for a girl to pay for me,” I said.
She pressed her lips into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “So… what did they finally decide about that matter?”
I looked down, stirring my coffee, suppressing the discomfort in my chest. “They officially deemed it a case of getting lost in the mountains. They refused to ask anything further about what happened there.”
My mind drifted back to that day at the police station when Ye Wensheng helped me close the case. Both the police and the rescue teams were surprised that I had returned, but they were busy. Tourists like us, who got lost in the mountains, were just a nuisance. After a brief inquiry and some notes, they let me go.
I was glad they didn’t press me further. I didn’t know how to explain what happened in the Miao village. If they asked how I had survived or escaped… could I really tell them I had been helped by a boy? No—absolutely not.
“Li Yuze?” Wen Lingyu’s voice pulled me out of my memories. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
“I… actually have something I want to ask you.” She twisted her fingers unconsciously, eyes lowered to hide the light in them.
“Go ahead.”
“Do you remember the boy sitting next to me during the Fire Star ritual?”
Ah Song—I knew exactly who she meant.
“Do you know what happened to him afterward?” Wen Lingyu looked embarrassed, twisting her fingers tightly.
I looked at her and couldn’t help but recall the scene in the forest—Ah Song holding her student ID card, his face radiant with joy.
“Why are you asking about him?” I said.
Her cheeks gradually flushed, and her eyes glimmered. She chose her words carefully. “When we were trapped in the mountains, it was him… he came to rescue us, to guide us. When he left, he pointed at my school card. I couldn’t understand what he said, but I gave it to him anyway.”
Her expression felt familiar. I suddenly realized I had seen the same look before—on Shen Jianqing’s face.
He had looked at me like that too.
So Wen Lingyu had fallen for Ah Song.
I had no idea what had happened in those few short days that made her care for that Miao youth—especially with the language barrier.
I didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad, nor whether I should tell her the truth.
“He’s called Ah Song,” I said.
Wen Lingyu murmured happily, “Ah Song… so his name is Ah Song…”
“Right now,” I paused for a moment, then spoke with a firm resolve, “he’s not doing well. Helping us in the Miao village was considered rebellious, and he has been punished for it.”
“Ah!” Wen Lingyu leaned forward, almost tipping over her coffee. “What kind of punishment did he receive?”
I couldn’t bring myself to say more.
That answer would have been far too cruel for her.
Seeing my silence, Wen Lingyu grabbed my arm, her voice trembling with tears. “Please… tell me, will you?”
I thought for a moment. “Let’s first go see Qiu Lu and Xu Zirong. After we see them, if you can handle it, I’ll tell you.”
Wen Lingyu nodded eagerly.
On our way back, Teacher Ye told me that both Qiu Lu and Xu Zirong were in a rehabilitation center in Yancheng and suggested we could visit them when we had the time.
The center was on the outskirts of the city. It had a pleasant environment, neither the bustle of urban life nor the isolation of the deep mountains.
After explaining our visit to the receptionist, she led us to a small garden within the center.
“Mr. Xu does his rehabilitation exercises on the lawn at this time every day,” she said.
Turning past the building, we saw a spacious lawn with several patients strolling. Some were accompanied by family, others alone.
I immediately spotted Xu Zirong standing apart from the others, silently holding onto the edge railing. Once so strong and athletic, he now looked emaciated. His calves showed sharply beneath his shorts, his knees prominent.
Step by step, he inched forward along the railing, testing each step. But with each movement, his body wobbled uncontrollably, almost toppling several times. Each time, he managed to steady himself with the railing.
I couldn’t reconcile the figure before me with the confident athlete I remembered. He had once trained in track and field, participating in national and international competitions. Yet now he could barely walk steadily.
“Sniff… sniff…”
Beside me, Wen Lingyu couldn’t hold back any longer. She stifled a few sobs and turned away.
Even the receptionist seemed sympathetic. “Mr. Xu’s cerebellum suffered serious damage, which affects his balance… Well, go ahead and see him. I’ll leave you two alone.”
Wen Lingyu and I adjusted our emotions and cautiously approached. Xu Zirong was still putting in great effort with each step, clenching his teeth, sweat soaking his thin shirt, oblivious to our presence.
After completing a circuit, he finally looked up and saw us standing nearby.
I expected him to feel embarrassed or uneasy, but Xu Zirong beamed a bright, sunny smile.
“Ah Ze! Xiao Wen! You’re here!” He released the railing and stepped forward, nearly falling. I quickly steadied him.
Trembling, he held my arm. His voice quivered: “Ah Ze, it’s so good that you’re back! I felt so guilty for leaving you behind!”
Tears pricked my eyes. I blinked hard. “You…”
But Xu Zirong interrupted: “Don’t cry! I’m still alive, or are you just feeling sorry for me?”
I quickly shook my head.
“I’ve been lucky enough,” Xu Zirong grinned, showing his teeth. “Lu Lu and I probably got infected by parasites from the untreated water, like Toxoplasma. If we hadn’t sought treatment in time, neither of us would have survived. You should be glad for us.”
They actually thought their condition was caused by infection from wild parasites.
Yet Xu Zirong’s optimism far exceeded my imagination. I wondered if I had been in his place, whether I could have handled it without breaking down.
“Let’s go see Lu Lu. She’ll be happy to see you,” Xu Zirong said, leading us toward the center’s main building.
Qiu Lu’s room was on the top floor. When we exited the elevator, we noticed iron mesh covering the entire corridor, presumably to prevent patients from accidentally falling.
At her door, we faintly heard soft humming. On her bed, Qiu Lu lay peacefully, eyes closed, holding a large stuffed doll. Remarkably, the doll resembled Xu Zirong.
On her bedside table were several smaller dolls. Oddly, the style of their clothing seemed very familiar. After a moment of recognition, I realized that among the dolls were ones representing Wen Lingyu and me!
Sitting beside Qiu Lu’s bed was a middle-aged woman, gently patting the quilt and humming a song I didn’t recognize. The soft melody seemed to soothe Qiu Lu even further.
When she noticed us, the woman turned and raised a finger, signaling us to remain silent.
She led us quietly into the corridor and said, “Xiao Xu, you came to see Lu Lu!”
Perhaps seeing the resemblance between us and the dolls at Qiu Lu’s bedside made her speak: “You are also good friends of my Lu Lu.”
“Auntie, these are Li Yuze and Wen Lingyu. They came specifically to see Lu Lu.”
Qiu Lu’s mother brightened. “I often hear Lu Lu talk about you!”
It was normal for her to mention Wen Lingyu, since they were friends. But why had she often spoken of me?
Her mother explained: “When Lu Lu plays with the dolls, one is named ‘Li Yuze.’ Don’t mind it, young man.”
I waved my hands repeatedly, indicating it was fine.
Half of Qiu Lu’s mother’s hair had turned white. Talking about Qiu Lu, tears glimmered in her eyes: “Our Lu Lu has had a hard life, suffering from this illness. She lives in her little world, talking to herself every day. No matter how we call her or try to speak to her, she hardly responds. Sigh…”
Looking at our concerned faces, she added, “Don’t be too down. We, as her parents, will never give up on her. She’s always been like this since she was little. Now, it’s like she’s returned to her childhood again…”
Her words choked off completely, and she could say no more.
Wen Lingyu quickly stepped forward, embracing Qiu Lu’s mother. I felt a pang of sorrow in my chest as well.
When the four of us had first set out, we were full of ambition and boundless hope for the future. Yet only a few short months had passed, and everything had changed. Time had shifted; each of us seemed to have been left with wounds and regrets. Everything had become irreversibly altered.