Chapter 17 – But I Never Celebrate My Birthday

After the sports event, Mr. Liu, the homeroom teacher of Class 1, Grade 2, indeed began supervising his students more closely, ensuring they focused on their studies. As a result, there were no PE classes this week.

The results of the second monthly exam this semester were announced, and Li Tang’s ranking in the grade had advanced by over a hundred places. Although his position in the class hadn’t risen significantly, Mr. Liu still praised and encouraged him.

Tasting the sweetness of learning at last, Li Tang had been rarely late for morning reading classes recently. Although his Chinese scores remained consistently poor, with every essay he wrote veering off topic, his Chinese teacher was at her wit’s end. Desperate, she recommended a few classic novels to him, suggesting he read them in his spare time, if nothing else, to improve his language sense.

November 9th was a Friday, and Li Tang got up early. After washing up and leaving his room, he was surprised to find that his mother Zhang Zhaoyue’s bedroom door was open, but she wasn’t inside.

Downstairs, he first encountered the auntie who was wiping the table.

She pointed towards the kitchen: “Madam is cooking noodles.”

Li Tang had tasted the noodles cooked by Zhang Zhaoyue before. They were made with a base of pork bone broth, sesame chili paste as a seasoning, and served in a soup bowl with tender and chewy noodles. Finally, slices of beef were added on top, garnished with coriander. There was nothing particularly special about them, yet they tasted better than those from outside restaurants.

However, it had been a long time since Li Tang had eaten these noodles. Therefore, when he approached the kitchen and saw Zhang Zhaoyue’s busy back, it felt as though an eternity had passed.

The noodles were quickly served. Zhang Zhaoyue had cooked three bowls and called the auntie to sit down and eat together.

The auntie, following the rules, was uncomfortable eating at the same table as the family and took her bowl to the kitchen instead.

It had been some time since Li Tang had eaten a meal at the same table as his mother, and he felt somewhat awkward and restrained. He choked on the chili powder after just two bites, turned away to cough a few times, and when he turned back, he saw a glass of water placed in front of him.

“Eat slowly,” said Zhang Zhaoyue.

Li Tang grunted in acknowledgment, lowering his head so that his face was almost buried in the bowl.

When did it start that even receiving care from his mother would make him feel overwhelmed?

After breakfast, as he was about to leave, Li Tang remembered that the book he had read before bed was still on his bedside table. He returned home and hurried upstairs.

Just as he reached the second floor, he noticed that Zhang Zhaoyue’s room door was half-open, and voices could be heard coming from inside.

“It was you who arranged for me to return to Xucheng. I never intended to see him, nor did I have the face to see him. I just wanted to know how he’s doing now…”

It seemed she was on the phone.

Sensitive to the presence outside the door, Zhang Zhaoyue looked up and covered the mouthpiece. “Why are you back again?”

Li Tang said, “I came back to get something.”

He could see the panic in his mother’s expression and witnessed the tears in her eyes.

He wanted to ask his mother why she was crying but feared that asking might make her sadder. So, he simply handed her a tissue.

On his way to school, Li Tang couldn’t help but think that “you” referred to Li Yuanshan, which meant his mother was talking to his father.

So who was the “he” mentioned by his mother?

What kind of person could make his mother so concerned?

This year, autumn arrived unusually early in Xucheng, but true autumn began in November according to the Gregorian calendar.

Last month, some girls who loved to show off their beauty persisted in wearing their summer uniforms, skirts included. This month, however, they all changed into thicker fall uniforms without exception, complete with sweaters and wool socks underneath.

Only Su Qinhan from Class 2, Grade 2, still wore a skirt as if she wasn’t bothered by the cold. She draped her uniform jacket over her shoulders, leaving the zipper undone.

During exercise time, the two classes were close to each other, and Li Tang saw the headmaster walk into the formation and stand in front of Su Qinhan, scolding her for her inappropriate attire with a stern face.

Su Qinhan said with a smile, “Give me a break today, okay? Just for today.”

Li Tang had a good idea why Su Qinhan wanted to wear a skirt today.

After the morning classes ended, his deskmate Li Zichu said he wouldn’t be eating in the cafeteria today because he had something to do and needed to leave the school grounds.

“What are you going to do?” asked Li Tang.

Li Zichu replied, “I’m getting a haircut.”

Upon hearing this, Li Tang realized that Li Zichu’s buzz cut had grown out considerably; the hair near his temples was almost touching his ears.

Li Zichu was the only one in the class with a buzz cut, making him quite conspicuous.

“Aren’t you cutting your hair short anymore?” Li Tang asked.

“No, I won’t be. Winter is coming, and longer hair can help keep warm,” Li Zichu said, running his hand over his bristle-like scalp. “Ouch, it’s a bit scratchy to touch.”

But who would touch someone else’s head for no reason? Li Tang thought to himself that he certainly wouldn’t.

During the lunch break, after hastily finishing his lunch in the cafeteria, Li Tang went to the comprehensive building and climbed the last flight of stairs to the rooftop. He deliberately lightened his steps, walking slowly and carefully.

To avoid appearing too deliberate, he even brought along a classic novel recommended by his Chinese teacher—a thick volume of “The Count of Monte Cristo,” tucked under his arm.

Three steps from the top, he faintly heard voices in conversation.

“How long are you going to pretend to be clueless?” Su Qinhan’s voice.

“What pretending.” The other person was naturally Jiang Lou.

“The whole school knows I’m pursuing you. When are you planning to give me a response?”

“Is it necessary?”

“Yes!”

Pausing for a moment, Jiang Lou said, “I’m not as good as you think I am.”

“It doesn’t matter whether you’re good or not. Whether you’re good or not isn’t for you to decide.”

Jiang Lou seemed to laugh softly.

That one laugh infuriated Su Qinhan, and she raised her voice: “Is this your way of rejecting me?”

“It could be considered that,” Jiang Lou’s tone remained nonchalant.

“…Alright, I understand.”

Li Tang could hear the tremble in Su Qinhan’s voice.

She was about to cry.

“You, you’re really…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, perhaps because her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Yet Jiang Lou showed no intention of sympathizing with her. Only when Su Qinhan turned to leave did he call out to her: “This—”

In his hand was a gift box.

Su Qinhan completely lost her temper. With a wave of her hand, she knocked the box to the ground.

“This is a birthday gift for you. You can accept it or throw it away, it’s entirely up to you how you dispose of it!”

Taking a few steps forward, she then turned around. “Rest assured, I won’t tell my dad, and I won’t cause you to be summoned to the headmaster’s office again.”

Jiang Lou responded with a faint “Mm”: “Thank you then.”

It was truly unsuitable for him to appear in this scene, so Li Tang retreated back to the corridor on the lower level, leaning against the wall and flipping through his book for half an hour before descending the stairs.

Just as he descended one level, he ran into one of the parties involved—Su Qinhan sitting on the steps leading from the third floor to the second, holding a thin cigarette between her fingertips.

Turning her head, their eyes met, and another tear overflowed from her eye, sliding down her cheek.

This was the second crying woman he had seen today. Her makeup was smudged, and her lipstick was smeared, showing that the results of dressing up for someone you like weren’t always perfect.

Li Tang walked over and sat down next to Su Qinhan. For a long time, neither of them spoke.

It was Su Qinhan who broke the silence first. She glanced at the book in Li Tang’s lap and asked with a heavy nasal tone, “Is it good?”

Li Tang pondered for a moment: “It’s good.”

“What’s it about?”

“Revenge and gratitude.”

Su Qinhan smiled slightly, taking her final drag from the cigarette. She tilted her head to exhale the white smoke gently and extinguished the cigarette on the step.

“If you can’t stand the smell of smoke, why didn’t you say so?”

Li Tang was stunned for a while before realizing she was asking him. He replied, “The smell of your cigarette isn’t too strong.”

He thought that sensitive people were generally good observers. No matter how sharp they appeared on the surface, they had soft hearts deep down.

Therefore, Su Qinhan might have known that Jiang Lou actually didn’t smoke. Perhaps she had already guessed that Jiang Lou wouldn’t agree. She just wanted to confess on his birthday, grasping at that sliver of possibility.

“Do you think he’s retaliating against me?” Su Qinhan asked, “Retaliating against me for always bothering him, retaliating against me for causing him to be questioned by the headmaster?”

Li Tang pursed his lips, unsure how to respond.

But it seemed that Su Qinhan was merely speaking to herself and not asking him.

“That guy…” Taking a deep breath, Su Qinhan’s voice choked slightly, “He knows everything, but he pretends to know nothing, waiting for others to collide with his immovable wall… He just stands there, motionless, waiting for me to collide, as if he’s completely innocent.”

After evening self-study, Li Tang walked toward the school gate with the crowd. At the bus stop, he encountered Zhou Dongze, a classmate.

Zhou Dongze was surprised that he wasn’t taking a private car today and asked him, “Where are you going?”

Li Tang’s eyes flickered slightly: “I have something to take care of.”

Seeing Jiang Lou approach, Li Tang’s eyes brightened as if he had found his target. Just as he was about to follow him onto the bus, Zhou Dongze shouted from behind, “It’s so late, don’t go. Let’s go have a midnight snack together.”

Li Tang’s foot was already on the bus, and he turned to respond, “Next time, I have something very important to do today.”

There weren’t many passengers on the last bus, and standing in the aisle of the bus, Li Tang looked at the back of Jiang Lou’s head, beginning to speculate about what he was thinking during these thirty minutes on this daily route.

Was he recalling what happened today, or even further back?

Or was it possible that he wasn’t thinking about anything at all?

As the bus pulled into the station, the pneumatic doors closed, and the roar of the engine carried dust away in its wake. Only then did Jiang Lou turn to look.

He didn’t ask why Li Tang had followed him but instead asked, “Are you hungry?”

Li Tang held his backpack and thought for a moment: “A little.”

Jiang Lou didn’t say anything else, stepping forward.

Li Tang followed him, and together they crossed the barren shrubbery, stepping on each cobblestone, heading toward the nearest source of light.

The convenience store, which wasn’t marked as open 24 hours, was still open at this hour. Jiang Lou went in for a circle and came out, handing Li Tang a package. Li Tang had to hold his heavy backpack with one hand and reach out with the other to accept it.

Bathed in the light from the entrance of the convenience store, he saw that it was a snack called “Cat Ears,” which Li Tang had been curious about since his first visit here.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, outlining the mountains with a fuzzy, furry edge.

Inside Jiang Lou’s house, as Li Tang opened the packaging and confirmed that Cat Ears were sweet after eating the third piece, he heard Jiang Lou ask, “Why are you here?”

Li Tang was startled awake, wiping his hands with a napkin. He pulled out a palm-sized cardboard box from his backpack, one hand pulling and the other supporting, from which he retrieved a lamp.

It was a rabbit-shaped solar-powered lamp that absorbed sunlight during the day and automatically lit up at night.

“There’s no light outside your door.”

As Li Tang flicked the switch, the rabbit lamp suddenly lit up, and Jiang Lou saw clearly that the plump white rabbit held a round ball in its hands, large and bright, almost as close to the full moon as possible on the fifteenth day of the lunar month.

Li Tang had spent a long time selecting this lamp. He wondered if Jiang Lou could see the subtle intentions behind it—the rabbit was his zodiac sign, and the moon was his WeChat avatar.

Hearing a light laugh, it was Jiang Lou extending his finger to poke the rabbit’s ear: “If you put it outside the door, it will be gone tomorrow.”

This area consisted of old houses without property management or security. Such delicate items left outside would soon be stolen.

Li Tang had anticipated this problem and, as if performing magic, pulled out a thin hemp rope from his backpack, threading it through the rabbit’s ears to create a lantern-like handle.

Walking to the window beside the door, he hung the lamp on a nail on the inner side of the wall frame.

This way, the light could be seen from outside as well.

Turning around, Li Tang asked, “How about this position?”

But what met him was Jiang Lou’s empty gaze and the shadowy, almost cold face in the dim light.

Li Tang’s heart skipped a beat.

For no apparent reason, he felt that this was Jiang Lou’s most authentic appearance.

There were so many worldly distractions in the world, but he had no interest in participating, and he had never been fully engaged.

It was him, it was them, who insisted on pulling Jiang Lou in. Therefore, Jiang Lou’s silent estrangement, how could it not be considered innocent?

Even though Jiang Lou later smiled, just like usual.

He asked, “Is this a birthday present?”

Then he continued, “But I never celebrate my birthday.”

At this point, one should probably ask “why.”

But Li Tang didn’t want to ask. He could sense that the answer would be another sad story.

So he said, “Consider it a souvenir. This is the third time I’ve come to your house as a guest, and I brought something this time.”

After hanging up the lamp and returning, Li Tang sat in the chair next to Jiang Lou and took a photo of the rabbit lamp with his phone.

Afterwards, as he reached for the Cat Ears to eat, Li Tang asked, “What did this nail used to hang?”

Following his line of sight, Jiang Lou’s eyes widened slightly.

“What did it hang?” he murmured, “Maybe it was the almanac.”

It was the kind of calendar hung on the wall, with one page torn off each day. The cover featured the God of Wealth, the paper was thin and translucent, covered with dense Chinese characters, and there was a bagua diagram. One day it was green, and the next day it might be red.

Long ago, the man of the house would tear off a page each morning when he left, telling his child, “Wait until this calendar is torn to the end, and Mom will come back.”

The child believed without a doubt. Eager to see his mother, who existed only in fairy tales and whom he had never met, he secretly tore pages from the calendar when his father wasn’t home, tearing a few from the front, a few from the middle, and a few from the bottom.

As a result, that year, his father often found the calendar missing pages, amusingly and helplessly consoling the child, “There are 365 days in a year, and each day must be lived steadily.”

But when he patiently counted the days and lived them one by one, Mom never came back.

His father told him again, “When you turn ten, Mom will definitely come back. This is our ten-year agreement.”

Later, he met his mother for the first time at the age of seven, but she didn’t stay at home for long and soon left.

And she took his father away.

Later, he knew that the so-called “ten-year agreement” was just a benevolent lie.

The almanac was torn apart, leaving only a rusty iron nail, sticking out of the wall alone, like a joke.

Jiang Lou sat there quietly, chewing on the past until it became bitter and tasteless, old and yellowed.

Seeing Jiang Lou propping his chin, lacking energy, Li Tang assumed he was also hungry and pinched a piece of Cat Ears to offer him.

Jiang Lou lowered his eyes, reaching out to grab Li Tang’s wrist and pull it to his mouth, taking a bite from his hand.

Teeth collided with his fingernail, and the pad of his finger brushed against moist warmth. Li Tang quickly withdrew his hand, his cheeks rapidly burning.

To hide his unusual reaction, Li Tang sought a topic: “Even if you don’t celebrate birthdays, you can still make wishes.”

“Is that so.”

“Mm, make a wish then.”

“Alright.”

Outside the window, the hazy moon hid back into the thin clouds.

After a while, Li Tang couldn’t resist his curiosity: “What wish did you make?”

“I—”

“Let’s not talk about it. Wishes aren’t supposed to be spoken aloud.”

Jiang Lou laughed: “Idiot.”

You should hope it doesn’t come true.