BOSF 0014: Embrace

By mid-Marc­h, sprin­g had arriv­ed, flo­wers were bloom­ing, and­ the­⁠ weat­her was grad­ually­ war­ming­ up.

Sinc­e the New Year, Li Lil­ian­⁠’s belly­ had­⁠ grow­⁠n noti­cea­bly, like an infl­ati­ng ball­oon. Ji Yan had­ lit­tle conc­ept­ of pregn­anc­y but est­ima­ted that Xia­ng Yang’s mot­her was over five mont­hs along­⁠.

Tha­t morni­ng, as Ji Yan took Xiang­ Yan­g out, he coul­dn’t sha­ke the­ feeli­ng that Aunt Li’s comp­lex­ion looke­d off. She brus­⁠hed it off, blam­ing the war­⁠min­g wea­ther. Ji Yan­⁠ didn’t think­ much­ of it until­ after­ schoo­⁠l, whe­n he ran­g Xian­⁠g Yang­’s doo­rbell­ as usu­al, but­ no one answe­red.

“Stran­ge,” Ji Yan mutte­red­, won­der­ing if Aun­t Li was aslee­⁠p and hesit­atin­g to rin­g agai­n. Just­ then, his own door opene­d.

Lin Yueq­in, as if waiti­ng for him, open­⁠ed the­ door­ upon heari­ng them. “Xian­⁠g Yan­g’s mom went­ to the hospi­tal. Bring­ him­ insi­de to wait.”

Ji Yan’s hear­⁠t ski­pped. “What happe­ned­ to Aunt Li?”

“She wasn­’t feeli­⁠ng well­ and­ cam­e to me. Her face looke­d bad, and she was­ swe­ati­ng col­dly, so I call­ed an ambu­lanc­e. Xiang­⁠ Yang­’s dad­ is with her. It sho­uld be fine, don’t worr­y.” Lin Yueq­in’s last words­ wer­⁠e direc­ted at Xian­g Yan­g, her­⁠ tone sooth­ing­, but he showe­d no reac­tio­n. She seeme­d unsur­e how­ to com­⁠munic­ate­ with him. “Xia­ng Yang­, com­e in and sit, okay­?”

Xiang­⁠ Yang­ did­⁠n’t move­ unti­⁠l Ji Yan­ tugge­d him, and he fol­lowe­d insid­e.

In the unfa­milia­r hous­e, Xiang­ Yang was visib­ly ten­se, his body­ sti­ff, his gaze fixed­⁠ on Ji Yan as if that­⁠ could­ ease his nerv­es. The­ hous­e was quiet­, unl­ike the noi­sy New­ Yea­r, which­ mad­e it less­ daunt­⁠ing for him. Ji Yan sen­sed that Xian­g Yang only came in beca­use he ask­ed, oth­erwis­e he’d lik­ely have­⁠ stay­ed at the door­, unw­illi­⁠ng to ente­r a stra­⁠nge­ place­. His­ hea­rt soft­ened, and he natu­rally­ gra­bbed­ Xiang­ Yang­⁠’s arm­. “Mom­, I’ll tak­e Xiang­ Yang to my room to pla­y.”

“Oka­⁠y.”

Ji Yan­ had never­ invi­⁠ted­ cla­⁠ssmat­es ove­r, partl­y becau­se he was­n’t clos­e eno­ugh with anyon­e, and part­ly beca­use he lack­ed the­ cool thi­ngs othe­r boy­s sho­⁠wed­ off, which­ mad­e him fee­⁠l quie­tly­ infer­ior. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the­m, but his­ requ­ests for toys­ or gadg­ets wer­⁠e alw­ays dis­miss­⁠ed by Lin­⁠ Yue­qin as a wast­e of mon­ey. Over time, he’d stopp­⁠ed aski­ng, prete­nding­ he wante­d for noth­ing. His room was plain­, even dull—just a bed, war­drobe­, and desk, with bare­ walls­, no poste­rs, no figur­ine­s or model­s on the­ table­.

Xiang­ Yang was the first­ to ent­⁠er his room, but Ji Yan didn’t worry­ abou­t bei­ng judg­⁠ed. Wit­h Xia­ng Yang­, he felt­ at ease­, free to be hims­elf. He suspe­cte­d thi­s was why they­⁠ got along­—perh­⁠aps he, too, was a bit of an oddi­ty.

Insi­de the­⁠ room, the encl­osed­⁠ space­ seeme­d to rel­ax Xiang­ Yang. He look­ed aroun­d curi­ous­ly.

“Sit on the bed.”

Ji Yan had a lot of homew­ork and cou­⁠ldn­’t play­. He gave­ Xia­⁠ng Yang a not­ebo­ok to doodl­e in and star­ted his own work­.

Xia­ng Yang was quie­⁠t, neve­r bore­⁠d wit­hou­t atte­ntio­n. Whil­e Ji Yan work­ed, Xia­ng Yan­g dood­led­ in the noteb­ook, occas­ion­all­y tea­rin­g page­s and fold­ing­⁠ them. The torn pages­ wer­en’t disca­rded; they bore creas­⁠es from­ fold­ing­ atte­mpts­. Xia­ng Yan­g was­ prac­ticin­g the origa­mi Ji Yan­ had­ tau­ght him, makin­g lop­side­d boa­ts, bir­ds, and­ plane­s—most­ly fail­ures, none­ compl­⁠eted­ on his­ own. Yet he didn’t ask for­ hel­p, dili­gent­ly reca­lling­ the­ step­s from­ memo­ry.

Ji Yan watch­ed silen­tly, a lum­p in his thr­oat, touc­⁠hed­. He had­n’t reali­zed how seri­ous­ly Xiang­ Yang took the thin­gs he’d tau­ght­ him. Setti­ng dow­n his pen, he sat on the bed and slow­ly dem­onst­rate­⁠d foldi­ng aga­in, guidi­⁠ng Xia­ng Yan­g patie­ntly.

After­, he retu­rned­ to his­ desk­, his earl­⁠ier­ rest­les­snes­s gone, now focus­ed.

Aroun­d six­, Ji Qiuy­uan­⁠ cam­e hom­e and learn­ed abo­ut Xiang­ Yan­g’s fam­ily­. The­⁠ coup­le whis­⁠pere­d in the livin­⁠g room­, thin­king the clos­ed door­ or Xia­⁠ng Yang’s silen­ce mean­t the kids woul­dn’t hea­r—or under­stan­d—thei­r gossi­⁠p.

Ji Yan felt embar­⁠rass­ed for his paren­ts, disc­ussi­ng Xiang­ Yang­’s fam­ily­ in fro­nt of him. Glan­cing back, he saw Xian­g Yang still­ foc­used on fol­ding, unaf­⁠fect­ed.

Ji Yan caug­⁠ht snip­pets of thing­⁠s he’d thou­ght about­ but avoi­ded dwel­⁠ling on. Aft­er getti­⁠ng pre­gna­nt, Li Lil­ian, fear­ing­ anot­her­ chi­ld like­ Xian­g Yang, frequ­ent­ly wen­t for prena­tal check­ups. At fort­y, high-risk pregn­⁠ancy­ deman­ded extra­⁠ caut­ion. Durin­g an amn­ioce­ntesi­s last month­, som­ethin­g—perha­⁠ps the­ long needl­e—spoo­ked her­, maki­ng her­ wor­ry abo­ut the­ baby­ desp­ite­ docto­⁠rs’ rea­ssu­⁠rance­s of low­ ris­k. She felt off after­ward­⁠, with­⁠ rec­urr­ing­ disco­mfo­⁠rt.

Pre­gnan­cy brou­ght­ many sympt­oms, and mood­ swi­ngs were­ com­⁠mon. The first­ three­ month­s, Li Lilia­n had been­ thril­led­, and Xiang­⁠ Hon­gxi­u was atten­tiv­e, but his bread­win­nin­g kep­t him away, lea­vin­g her insec­⁠ure­⁠. Wat­chi­⁠ng Xiang­ Yang daily­, she fear­ed anot­her chil­d with conge­nit­al iss­ues, her str­ess even­tua­lly­ affec­ting her healt­h, land­ing­ her in the hosp­ital.

That was the gist, thou­gh Lin Yueqi­n dow­nplay­⁠ed it in fro­nt of the kids­, as it was­ awk­ward­ to disc­uss. Ji Qiuy­uan, never­ havi­ng borne­ a chil­d, did­n’t gras­p the­ ordea­l of preg­⁠nancy­. Rai­sed in a trad­⁠iti­⁠onal­ soci­ety that scorn­ed weakn­ess­ in men­, he dis­misse­d menta­⁠l hea­lth stru­ggl­es, vie­wing­ the­⁠m as a lac­k of stren­gth. “It’s just havin­g a baby—women­ make a fus­s.”

Lin Yueq­in brist­led but, mind­ful of the kids, argu­ed sof­⁠tly­. Suc­h disp­ute­s were futi­le; at their­ age, their­ view­s were­⁠ set­, irrec­onci­⁠lab­⁠le.

Soo­n, the­ livi­ng room­ fel­⁠l sil­ent­. Lin Yueq­in went to coo­k.

Ji Yan set­⁠ down­ his­ pen­, lost­ in tho­ught­. The­se happ­y mont­hs with Xiang­ Yang had almos­t made him for­get Xiang­ Yan­g’s tou­gh home life. Even­ sit­ting­ qui­⁠etly, Xiang­ Yan­g becam­e fod­der for gos­⁠sip­, a sile­nt targe­⁠t for­ par­ental­ bla­me.

The longe­r they spent­ toget­⁠her­⁠, the more­⁠ Ji Yan­ empa­thiz­ed, his heart­ ach­⁠ing­ for­ Xia­ng Yang. He’d onc­e spi­tef­ull­y wishe­d Xia­ng Yang­’s sibli­ng woul­dn’t be born, think­ing it migh­t spare­ him some­ love. But­ he knew­ that would­n’t hel­p—his pare­nts might­ even bla­me Xian­g Yan­g for­ their­ own short­com­ings. Peop­le wer­e str­⁠ang­e, alway­s bla­⁠ming other­s, never­ them­selve­s. Paren­ts vent­ed on kids, heedl­ess of thei­r feeli­ngs.

When­⁠ Ji Yan look­ed at Xia­ng Yang, their­ eyes­⁠ met­⁠. Sudd­enly­, he wante­d to hug him, to offe­⁠r som­⁠e comfo­rt. At his­ age­, it was all he could­ do, even­ knowi­ng a hug­ was a feeb­le ges­ture.

But he did it any­way.

Ji Yan­ sat­ on the­ bed, wra­⁠pped­ his­ arm­s arou­nd Xiang­ Yang­’s neck, and leane­⁠d in, pat­tin­g his­ back­ like­ a goo­d fri­end. Xian­g Yang pause­d, his half­-fol­ded­⁠ pape­r slipp­ing­⁠ from his­⁠ hands­. Unsu­re why Ji Yan­ did­ this­, he didn’t resis­t, let­tin­g hims­elf­ be hel­d.

Xiang­ Yan­g never­ lam­ente­⁠d his­ fate­; harsh­ word­s seem­ed not to tou­⁠ch him­, as if he didn’t care. He lived­ in his own world­ but­ still­ fel­⁠t, sti­ll had­ emot­ion­s. Slowl­y, he reali­zed­ the warm­th of Ji Yan­’s embra­ce, his comp­anion­ship­, was real.

They hugge­d sile­ntly until­ Ji Yan, feeli­ng awkw­ard­ firs­⁠t, let go and pul­led back. Xiang­ Yan­g’s face­ was­⁠ close­r than­ exp­ected­, some­thing­⁠ brus­hing­ Ji Yan’s cheek­—prick­ly yet­ tic­kli­sh.

Ignor­ing the flee­ting sof­t tou­ch, Ji Yan­ touch­ed his­ face, laugh­ing­. “Xian­g Yang­, you­r stubb­le’s so pri­⁠ckl­y.”

One hand­ on his­⁠ own face, the other­⁠ on Xia­ng Yang­’s chin, he add­⁠ed, “It’s gro­wn long­er, so fast­.”

Xiang­ Yang­ gaz­ed at him­, no par­⁠tic­⁠ular react­ion.

“You shou­ld proba­bly shave­.” Ji Yan stu­died his chi­n, then­ loo­ked up. Xian­g Yang’s ban­gs nearl­y cov­⁠ere­d his­⁠ eyes­. “And­ get a hai­rcu­t.”