TVDC 8: Falling Ill

The next morning, Qiu Xuning got up very early. The weather was getting colder and colder, every breath came out as a puff of white mist. He shivered, pulled a sweatshirt from the wardrobe, and layered on a thicker jacket before finally feeling much warmer.

Resting his hand on the stomach hidden beneath the sweatshirt, he suddenly thought of He Zhiyuan. He didn’t seem to be wearing much either and he didn’t know if he would feel cold.

Should he ask him next time?

Qiu Xuning pressed his lips together, then shook his head, dismissing the thought. Even if things seemed a little better between him and He Zhiyuan, that didn’t mean he could casually show concern. They weren’t even friends, let alone the kind of brotherly bond he wished for.

He drew in a breath of icy air, feeling the chill spread through his lungs, leaving his head clearer.

When he went downstairs, Zhou Mingmei had just finished making breakfast. Seeing him, she couldn’t hide her surprise. “Why are you up this early again?”

Qiu Xuning said, “I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I just got up.”

“Does your head still hurt?” Zhou Mingmei asked, as she always did.

Qiu Xuning shook his head. “No.” That was always his answer, too.

In truth, with such a big wound and stitches, of course it hurt. But since the pain was still within what he could tolerate, he didn’t want Zhou Mingmei to worry any more.

She served him a bowl of porridge and urged him to wash up. Noticing the new toothbrush he had bought, she asked casually, “Didn’t you just change your toothbrush? Why buy another one?”

Qiu Xuning grew a little tense. “That toothbrush was a bit too hard. I didn’t like it.”

Zhou Mingmei studied him for quite a while before finally saying, “I see. Then switch it out. Don’t throw the old one away and use it to scrub cups.”

“Mm.” Qiu Xuning didn’t dare meet her eyes and quickly slipped into the bathroom.

By the time he finished washing up and came out, Zhou Mingmei had already gone back to the bedroom to catch up on sleep.

Qiu Xuning let out a quiet sigh of relief, then sat down at the table to eat breakfast.

Breakfast at the Qiu household was actually quite simple. It’s just congee paired with a few side dishes. Sometimes Zhou Mingmei would stir-fry tofu with chili, sometimes it was long beans, and other times pan-fried peppers. The flavors were always sharp and appetizing, and surprisingly well-suited to Qiu Xuning’s taste.

Holding his bowl carefully, Qiu Xuning sipped the congee in small mouthfuls. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed He Zhiyuan coming downstairs, and his eyes lit up just a little.

“He Zhiyuan.” Qiu Xuning gave him a small wave, a smile blooming on his face before he quickly pressed his lips together, showing a hint of shyness and restraint.

He Zhiyuan saw him but gave no response, lowering his gaze slightly before heading straight into the bathroom.

Qiu Xuning wasn’t disappointed by his indifference. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was only 5:20. Morning classes didn’t start until 6:40, so he still had plenty of time. But for He Zhiyuan, a high schooler, his schedule was probably tighter.

When He Zhiyuan finished washing up, he ladled himself a bowl of congee and sat down across from Qiu Xuning.

Zhou Mingmei might find chances to skimp on his dinner, but breakfast was another matter. Once she cooked, she always went back to catch up on sleep, leaving her no chance to make things difficult for He Zhiyuan.

He Zhiyuan, of course, ate whenever he could. He carried himself with a calm detachment, as if he didn’t care about Zhou Mingmei’s pettiness, nor did he fear her scolding. At times his composure seemed almost unreal, as though he truly belonged in this family. Yet only he knew how dark his gaze became when no one was watching—eyes sinking like an unfathomable abyss.

Zhou Mingmei and the others had never understood his true nature. But Qiu Xuning, having glimpsed him through that dreamlike original novel, knew all too well just how obsessive and ruthless he really was.

It was just that the figure from the book overlapped with the one before him, and Qiu Xuning couldn’t help but blur the two together. Because of that slight closeness they had shared last night, he had begun to soften the negative impression left by the novel’s He Zhiyuan, finding himself wanting to draw nearer to him.

Qiu Xuning wanted to say something, yet nothing seemed right. He stole a glance at He Zhiyuan, then quickly lowered his eyes again, poking at the congee with the tip of his chopsticks. Suddenly remembering something, he looked up once more, his gaze flickering with a trace of expectation as he whispered, “Shall we go to school together later?”

He Zhiyuan cast him a glance, calmly took a sip of congee, and gave no reply.

That brief look was enough for Qiu Xuning to sense that He Zhiyuan didn’t seem to want to talk to him. His lips pressed together slightly, and suddenly he lost his appetite. Lowering his head, he stared at the little holes he had poked into his bowl of congee, his voice softening. “Did you change your mind?”

He Zhiyuan said coolly, “And when did I ever promise you anything?”

Qiu Xuning froze, blurting out blankly, “Didn’t you promise me… that we would get along?”

He Zhiyuan glanced at him, his voice slow and low, carrying that air of dominance, “How we get along is for me to decide. Understand?”

Qiu Xuning looked at him in confusion. “W-what do you mean?”

He Zhiyuan said, “I don’t want to go together with you.”

Qiu Xuning’s little face went pale in an instant, then flushed red—an embarrassed kind of red. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end no words came out.

He Zhiyuan ate quickly, much faster than Qiu Xuning. Once he finished his bowl of congee, he didn’t spare him a glance before getting up, grabbing his schoolbag, and heading out the door.

Watching his figure disappear at the doorway, Qiu Xuning felt a wave of dejection. He had thought the two of them had grown a little closer.

But he quickly pulled himself together, hurriedly finished his congee, grabbed his schoolbag, and followed out the door.

He Zhiyuan walked so fast that Qiu Xuning couldn’t even catch a glimpse of him. He kicked at a small stone by his foot, let out a breath, and with his head slightly lowered, made his way toward school.

…

A few days later, Zhou Mingmei took Qiu Xuning to the hospital to have his stitches removed.

Perhaps because he’d been eating well, the patch of hair that had been shaved off was already sprouting stubble. It didn’t get in the way of the doctor taking out the stitches.

Once it was done, Zhou Mingmei held his head in her hands and looked at it for a long while before finally saying, “Ningning.”

Qiu Xuning tilted his head back, the look in his eyes clearly asking what she meant.

Zhou Mingmei gazed at him and slowly smiled. “Let’s go check out another place.”

Her smile struck Qiu Xuning as a little strange, but he didn’t think too much of it and obediently followed behind. To his surprise, she led him all the way to the bus station.

A bit uneasy, Qiu Xuning couldn’t hold back and asked her where they were going. Zhou Mingmei looked at him and said softly, “I’m taking you back to see Grandma.”

Qiu Xuning didn’t doubt her.

After more than an hour on the road, they arrived at a village. Zhou Mingmei led him straight toward a remote area, and Qiu Xuning couldn’t help but ask, “Grandma’s house isn’t here. Where are we going?”

Zhou Mingmei’s expression turned serious. She said to him, “Just wait and you’ll see.”

Qiu Xuning was a little taken aback. He couldn’t help glancing at her several times, only to quickly look away before she noticed.

Zhou Mingmei had never spoken to him in this way before.

She brought him to a farmer’s house, and though Qiu Xuning was dazed and muddled, he still understood what was happening.

Qiu Shunming thought he had gone silly and took him to see doctors, while Zhou Mingmei believed he had been tainted by something unclean and dragged him to some so-called shaman to “drive out the evil.”

Qiu Xuning’s change had been far too drastic and there was no way to hide it from the parents who had doted on him since childhood. So the two used their own methods each, tossing him from place to place.

Qiu Xuning knew he had taken over “Qiu Xuning’s” body, and that left him in the wrong. So he endured everything Zhou Mingmei put him through without complaint. Even when she handed him a bowl of pitch-black “talisman water,” he didn’t need her coaxing. He simply pinched his nose and downed it in one gulp.

It tasted truly awful. After drinking it, his delicate brows furrowed tightly.

When they got back home, perhaps from the exhaustion of travel combined with that murky “talisman water,” Qiu Xuning fell sick almost immediately.

The reaction was so severe that he had to be rushed to the hospital.

Qiu Xuning hadn’t expected that not long after being discharged from the hospital, he would end up right back in it.

Even late at night, the hospital was still crowded. Zhou Mingmei took him to register and get an IV drip.

As soon as they got home earlier, Qiu Xuning’s stomach had started to hurt, and he had developed a high fever. At the hospital, when the nurse took his temperature, she exclaimed, “It’s already 39 degrees! Any higher and his brain could be damaged. The child doesn’t know any better, but how can you parents be so careless?”

The nurse had first noticed how delicate and pretty Qiu Xuning looked, and now, with his little face pale as paper, he seemed pitiful enough to stir her maternal instincts. She couldn’t help but scold a few words, but once she caught sight of Zhou Mingmei’s face, she quickly shut her mouth.

Zhou Mingmei’s features gave off the impression of someone calculating and petty. With parents like that, it was wiser to say less.

At this moment, Zhou Mingmei had no energy to quibble over the nurse’s words. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her whole face stiff and silent. Every so often, when her gaze fell on Qiu Xuning, her eyes carried a trace of regret.

Qiu Xuning didn’t dare speak either. No matter how much his stomach hurt, he forced himself to endure it. But the pain grew so intense that the last trace of color drained from his face, and even his once-rosy lips were tinged with a faint bluish purple.

“High fever and enteritis. We’ll set up a glucose saline IV. If your stomach hurts, you can try going to the restroom first,” the nurse said gently to him.

Qiu Xuning shook his head. His stomach was already completely empty, there was nothing left. It was just pure pain now.

The nurse inserted the needle, and Qiu Xuning flinched from the pain. She held his hand down gently. “Don’t move, or it’ll bleed back.”

So Qiu Xuning endured without moving. The needle went in smoothly, and the nurse secured it with practiced, gentle hands. In a low voice, Qiu Xuning said, “Thank you.”

The nurse smiled at him. “No need to thank me.”

She almost reached out to pat his head, but with his mother standing right there, she felt embarrassed to do so. Instead, she just gave the boy a warm smile before turning away to tend to other patients.

“Ningning,” Zhou Mingmei called softly.

“Mm?” Qiu Xuning lifted his head at her voice, then quickly looked away again, pretending to study the IV drip.

Zhou Mingmei said, “Do you blame Mom? For making your stomach hurt, for making you end up in the hospital?”

Qiu Xuning shook his head. His gaze flickered over her face, clouded with regret and remorse, and his own voice softened, “I don’t blame you. It’s just that my body’s weak—eat a little something wrong and my stomach acts up.”

Back when the “real Qiu Xuning” ate all kinds of junk food, nothing ever happened. But now with him here, just one bowl of ash-soaked water had him falling ill. It was so much like the fragile constitution he used to have.

Zhou Mingmei said nothing.

Both she and Qiu Shunming had bad tempers, and their children hadn’t turned out much better. The youngest son especially, just a few words with him and he would grow impatient, yelling at them, slamming doors so hard the frames nearly splintered. His living habits were terrible, yet in her eyes he was perfect everywhere. Even being yelled at by him left her oddly comforted, because she felt that with a temper like his, at least out in the world no one would dare bully him.

Ever since that useless troublemaker cracked his head open, his whole temperament had changed. Zhou Mingmei thought perhaps he had become better, but she didn’t know whether she liked this change or not. He seemed too timid, too cowardly. If it had been anyone else, Zhou Mingmei would have been sick to death of it but this was her youngest son. The one she had borne after two days of difficult labor, nearly at the cost of her own life.

Though she had taken him to see that shaman, she had never truly believed in ghosts or spirits. Now, looking at her youngest with his pale little face and those timid, obedient eyes, so well-behaved and sensible—it was enough to pierce right through her mother’s heart.

Regret and remorse nearly swallowed her whole.

After all, who wouldn’t like a son who was obedient and sensible?

Caught between struggle and hesitation, Zhou Mingmei steeled herself and decided not to dwell on the changes in her youngest anymore. No matter what, he was still her son. The precious last child she had nearly traded her life for after two days of difficult labor.