When Pei Jingchen rushed home through the rain, children’s songs blared from the million-dollar stereo in the living room. The lyrics “Jingle jingle, ding dong, ding dong, Little Gourd Brothers” unexpectedly tickled his funny bone, especially seeing Su Qingci sitting on the sofa, utterly engrossed—childishly adorable.
“Want a red-skinned banana? Assistant Xu brought them back from Malaysia. Bananas replenish potassium and lower blood pressure.”
Su Qingci didn’t refuse. He’d never been picky, and since falling ill, his appetite had shrunk. If there was room in his stomach, he rarely turned down food offered to him.
This feeling of being fed something he’d inevitably eat became strangely addictive for Pei Jingchen. Su Qingci had a high tolerance for fruit—there wasn’t a type he disliked. Pei Jingchen resolved to stock up on melons, fruits, pears, and peaches, always slicing several varieties into fruit platters so Su Qingci could sample a bit of each.
Su Qingci only managed half a banana before feeling full. Pei Jingchen finished the rest, then asked what he’d been doing at home while washing his hands in the kitchen.
Su Qingci replied indifferently, “Lying down.”
Pei Jingchen asked with concern, “Is it hard on your body with the overcast skies and rain?”
Su Qingci said it was manageable. Pei Jingchen turned off the faucet, dried his hands with a paper towel, and sat down beside Su Qingci. “Why did you go out in the rain? Bored at home? Maybe I should get you a quiet pet—a turtle, a rabbit, something like that.”
Su Qingci looked at him, suddenly realizing his slip-up—the umbrella left in the entryway, meant to drain water, had been forgotten in the closet.
Su Qingci thought to himself, My brain is getting slower and slower: “I don’t want one. Too much trouble.”
“As you wish.” Pei Jingchen curved his lips into a smile, rising to head toward the kitchen. “What would you like for dinner tonight?”
The shuffle playlist switched to the next song, “Grandma’s Penghu Bay.” Su Qingci paused slightly, his thoughts fittingly drifting to Jiang Seru.
Come to think of it, it had been several months since he’d visited the nursing home.
Several days of continuous rain kept Su Qingci indoors. A week later, when the skies finally cleared, he emerged from his bedroom in fresh clothes. Pei Jingchen asked where he was headed, suggesting a walk outside.
Pei Jingchen drove him there. After unbuckling his seatbelt, Su Qingci said, “You go ahead with your work. I can manage on my own.”
There’s nothing to see at a mental hospital.
Pei Jingchen got out of the car too. “I’ll accompany you.”
Su Qingci didn’t object this time. As they entered the ward, the young nurse smiled and remarked on his long absence. “Ms. Jiang has been in good spirits lately. Last week, when another patient’s family visited with a large bouquet of gardenias, she didn’t get agitated.”
Su Qingci murmured his thanks. The nurse noticed Pei Jingchen and hesitated, about to speak. Su Qingci interjected, “My friend.”
The nurse greeted him with a smile, and Pei Jingchen gave a reserved nod.
Pei Jingchen had never met Jiang Seru in person, only seen her photos online and videos of her performing with troupes in her youth. Over a decade had passed, yet time had not marred her beauty. She remained as ethereally beautiful as he remembered—dressed in a white dress, her jet-black hair braided into a long, glossy plait that cascaded past her waist. A butterfly accessory adorned the hair tie, and upon closer look, a butterfly hair clip adorned her head.
Shiny and sparkling, it looks beautiful.
Pei Jingchen asked the nurse, “Um, is that okay?”
The young nurse said it was fine. Earlier, Jiang Seru had come out of the break room, handed a pair of scissors—left behind by someone unknown—to the nursing station, and gently reminded the nurses not to leave things lying around. It’s dangerous, she added.
Su Qingci called out to Jiang Seru.
Jiang Seru turned around, her serene expression instantly contorting. She shot up from the bed, eyes wide with terror as she stared at Pei Jingchen: “Meng Lang?!”
Pei Jingchen froze. Su Qingci’s expression changed as he met Jiang Seru’s gaze. In that instant, Jiang Seru’s pupils dilated wildly. Her entire body trembled, overcome by terror as if she’d glimpsed hell itself.
“Su Ge, Su Ge, Su Ge, Su Ge.” She clutched her head and backed away. “Let me explain! It’s not like that! I didn’t cheat! I didn’t know he’d come! Don’t hit me, don’t hit me! I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
Chaos erupted in the ward. A nurse rushed forward to restrain the screaming Jiang Seru, only to be violently shoved aside. The doctor, alerted by the commotion, hurried in, shouting for the nurse to prepare a sedative injection.
The nurse deftly handed over the syringe, but the doctor snatched it away only to be slapped it out of his hand by Jiang Seru: “You beast!”
The doctor’s glasses fell, shattering into a mess on the floor.
Jiang Seru shook off the nurse’s grasp and lunged at the doctor, punching and kicking him. “You’re Suge’s son! You deserve to die!”
Pei Jingchen’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at Su Qingci in utter disbelief, unable to comprehend what he had just heard.
More doctors rushed into the ward. Together, they subdued Jiang Seru, injecting her with sedatives. Su Qingci and Pei Jingchen were escorted out of the room by nurses.
Beyond the wall, chaos reigned. The woman’s twisted curses rang out, sharp and piercing: “It’s all your fault! How dare you live? You only bring harm to yourself and others! Just die already! I’ll beat you to death! Don’t you dare cry! Aaaah… Qingci, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have hit you. Look at me. I promise I’ll never hit you again. This is the last time. I swear I won’t hit you anymore.”
The corridor felt gloomy and cold. Pei Jingchen gripped Su Qingci’s hand tightly. He took a step back and said, “Let’s go.”
Even after they sat back in the car, Pei Jingchen still didn’t let go. He tried to warm his hand with the heat from his own palm, rubbing it between his hands and blowing warm breath on it. Su Qingci suddenly chuckled. “It’s the middle of summer. What the hell are you doing?”
Pei Jingchen said nothing, just kept rubbing, determined to warm Su Qingci’s hands.
Su Qingci watched him. “What’s wrong?”
Pei Jingchen kept rubbing and blowing warm breath until his hands finally warmed up. His face was pale, his shoulders slumped as if he’d suffered a severe injury.
He thought it was only Su Ge… but he hadn’t expected Jiang Seru to be…
He had thought that even if Su Qingci endured his father’s beatings and scoldings, he still had a mother to rely on, the only person he depended on in this world… But it turned out Su Qingci had suffered violence from two people—both his parents. His father was worse than a beast, and his mother was no better.
He knew what kind of childhood Su Qingci had endured—a hell without sunlight. Yet he had still underestimated it. That hell had two layers.
Pei Jingchen clutched Su Qingci with a heart torn apart, saying nothing, sighing nothing, just holding him silently, tightly, refusing to let go.
A few minutes later, Pei Jingchen bought drinks. Finding the car stuffy, they stood outside, drinking and catching the breeze.
“Meng Lang was my mom’s first love,” Su Qingci said.
“Mom adored him. It took her a month to confess her feelings after secretly admiring him, but only three days after confessing for them to break up. Meng Lang was a womanizer, juggling multiple relationships.”
“Later, my mom met Su Ge. They dated, married quickly, got pregnant fast, and were pretty happy after marriage. My mom grew more and more dependent on Su Ge. Looking back now, Su Ge started plotting step by step right after they got married, isolating my mom and even cutting off ties with my grandparents.”
“On my sixth birthday, Meng Lang came to our house with flowers. It wasn’t really a coincidence—he’d deliberately found out about it. All these years, he’d been keeping tabs on my mom. He brought gardenias, her favorite flowers.”
Later, Suge, who’d come to pick me up from school, caught them red-handed. From that day on, Suge became a paranoid lunatic, and our family was forever changed.”
Pei Jingchen felt each breath tear at his heart: “Xiao Ci.”
Su Qingci took a sip of orange juice, his tongue tinged with faint bitterness. “I thought death extinguishes like a lamp—that I could learn to let go, leaving this life’s burdens behind. But I overestimated my capacity. I still hate them. I can never forgive them, not even in death.”
Su Qingci’s thoughts drifted back to his grandmother, who had passed away from illness two years prior.
After severing ties with Jiang Seru, Grandma and Grandpa had emigrated overseas. Grandma developed cancer, diagnosed at an advanced stage. Before her death, she returned to China to see her daughter one last time at the nursing home. After seeing her daughter, she called Su Qingci, wanting to see her grandson one last time.
The frail, white-haired old woman said, “Don’t hate your mother. Your father forced her into it. She was a victim too.”
Her eyes were teary as she spoke: “Such a fine young woman, completely ruined by Su Ge.”
Jiang Se was the victim; Su Ge was the demon. Su Ge deserved to be flayed and dismembered in the deepest hell.
Su Qingci understood.
His grandmother wanted him to feel compassion for his mother, to understand her, to pity her.
But who would feel compassion for me?
Pei Jingchen reached out, slipped his arm around Su Qingci’s shoulders, and drew him gently into his embrace, holding him tightly.
Su Qingci felt the other man’s fiery heartbeat, each thud echoing against his own chest.
It felt so good to be cherished.