Time slipped by quietly, and it was soon the May Day holiday. Chi Nuan took the bus home from school. The residents on the first floor had cooked something very spicy, and the choking spiciness filled the air. Tears streamed from Chi Nuan’s eyes from the moment she entered the stairwell.
Once up to the sixth floor and inside the door, she felt a bit better.
Mr. Ji held Little Wutong. It was getting dark outside, and the living room light was off. Little Wutong lay in Mr. Ji’s arms, asleep.
“…” Chi Nuan set down her bag and walked over. “Mr. Ji?”
Mr. Ji nodded. Chi Nuan shook out the blanket in Little Wutong’s small crib, and Mr. Ji awkwardly placed him inside.
Little Wutong opened his eyes the moment he touched the bed. Mr. Ji panicked to pick him up again, but Chi Nuan stopped him. She bent down, pressed her cheek to Little Wutong’s, and gently patted his body with her palm.
Little Wutong’s eyes slowly closed again.
Only after he was soundly asleep did Chi Nuan stand up.
“Mr. Ji, why are you here? Where’s Brother?” Chi Nuan moved to pour Mr. Ji a glass of water, but he pulled her back and pressed her to sit on the sofa.
Chi Nuan looked at him in confusion.
Mr. Ji pulled up a chair and sat across from her. “Your brother got a bit drunk and is sleeping in the room.”
Chi Nuan stood to check on Chi Qingchuan, but Mr. Ji made her sit again. “Listen to me. Your brother and Yue Yun are divorced.”
The light in Chi Nuan’s eyes gradually faded into darkness with those words.
“It happened a few days ago. He didn’t know how to tell you and kept mumbling about being afraid you’d be disappointed in him.” Mr. Ji spoke unhurriedly. “Nuannuan, you’re not a kid anymore. I hope you can understand your brother’s decision.”
Chi Nuan said, “Sister-in-law… doesn’t she want Little Wutong?”
Mr. Ji said, “Custody is with Qingchuan. She didn’t fight for anything.”
Chi Nuan asked no more.
Gu Ningzi, Xue Wen, and now Yue Yun—people kept leaving her side. More or less, they had all brought her warmth.
Not long after Mr. Ji left, Chi Qingchuan woke up. He hadn’t dared drink too much with Little Wutong to care for, but his head still throbbed. He leaned on the doorframe coming out of the room. Seeing pitch black outside, he fumbled for the wall switch and turned on the light.
Little Wutong slept in his small bed. Chi Nuan had pushed it to the sofa’s edge; she lay on the sofa, arm draped over the bedrail.
Chi Qingchuan walked to the sofa. He thought Chi Nuan was asleep too, but up close, he saw her eyes open. He leaned down and asked, “Nuannuan, did Mr. Ji leave?”
Chi Nuan: “Not long ago.”
Chi Qingchuan: “Oh. I…”
Chi Nuan sat up from the sofa, tears welling in her eyes. “Brother, why do some people leave? In this world, besides death parting us, why is there also living separation?”
Chi Qingchuan’s lips moved, but before he could speak, Chi Nuan continued, “There must be a reason, right? Maybe beyond their control, or a better choice? Or perhaps their fate was too shallow, so they couldn’t grow old together. …But what about Little Wutong? He’s still so small…”
Chi Qingchuan’s palm rested heavily on Chi Nuan’s head, and he sighed deeply. “Don’t worry. Brother raised you, so of course he can raise Little Wutong too. …Nuannuan, you’ve always been Brother’s pride.”
Chi Nuan hugged Chi Qingchuan’s waist, her tears soaking his clothes. “Brother, my heart hurts.”
Chi Qingchuan ruffled her hair. “It’ll get better.”
Little Wutong’s biological clock was all messed up lately. He slept soundly until past nine at night, then stayed awake playing until after midnight before sleeping again.
Chi Nuan set her phone to the lowest volume and repeatedly watched Gu Ningzi’s photos and videos.
Tears dropped pattering down. She opened Gu Ningzi’s WeChat profile picture and typed message after message:
“Gu Ningzi, give me candy.”
The message sank like a stone into the sea.
Chi Nuan didn’t sleep well that night. At the first faint light of dawn, Little Wutong woke. He kicked his legs, practiced his cries, smacked his lips, and had even learned to climb on people and pat their faces.
Chi Nuan carried him out, fed him milk, and seeing the nice weather outside, pushed the stroller to take him for a walk.
They strolled slowly along the street. Little Wutong, wearing a small hat, looked around, kicked his little legs, and cooed from his throat.
Chi Nuan said, “Little Wutong, Auntie.”
Little Wutong: “Ooh—”
There was a new breakfast shop by the road. Early in the morning, a long line of customers blocked the sidewalk completely. Chi Nuan squeezed the stroller through the gaps in the crowd, curiously glanced a few times—it must be some internet-famous spot.
They stopped by a bridge in the small park. Chi Nuan gave Little Wutong some water. The big and small one enjoyed the cool morning breeze for a bit as the sun rose higher. Chi Nuan pushed him home.
On the way back, they passed the breakfast shop again. The line had shortened. Chi Nuan said to Little Wutong, “Shall we get some breakfast for your dad?”
Little Wutong: “Ooh—”
Auntie Lu had already arrived. Seeing Chi Nuan carry Little Wutong in, she beamed and clapped her hands. “Oh, our Little Wutong is back from his walk?”
Little Wutong giggled upon seeing her—he clearly liked her a lot.
Auntie Lu took Little Wutong, and Chi Nuan relaxed her arms, carrying the breakfast to the table. Chi Qingchuan was drinking porridge. He took the breakfast from Chi Nuan and casually asked, “Didn’t you bring your phone? I just called, and you didn’t pick up.”
“I did.” Chi Nuan patted her pocket—and found it empty.
In that instant, it felt like her soul left her body.
Chi Qingchuan flipped through the breakfast Chi Nuan brought. “Oh, this place—seems like you have to wait in a long line to buy it?”
Chi Nuan turned and ran outside.
She walked and searched along the route, stopping and starting, tears nearly blocking her entire view. She buried her head, squatted by the roadside crying, then wiped her tears and stood to continue searching.
She retraced the morning path many, many times, including the internet-famous breakfast shop, where she repeatedly asked the cashier:
“Do you remember me? I just bought breakfast here. Did I leave my phone?”
“It’s an old one, white, about this big?”
“The screensaver when lit is a photo of a really pretty girl.”
“Have you seen it?”
The cashier shook her head.
Chi Nuan stepped out of the shop amid the flow of people. As she walked, she broke into wrenching sobs. “Gu Ningzi!”
…
A little girl with pigtails timidly watched Chi Nuan. Later, encouraged by her parent, she hesitantly approached and held out a lollipop to Chi Nuan.
“Sister, you’ve been saying something about candy? I only have this—chocolate flavor. Is that okay?”
Tears surged hotly, and Chi Nuan sobbed uncontrollably.
