Chapter 9 – Xing Baichuan 0.4

Li Jiangluo turned off all the lights except for a small nightlight placed near the wall when he went upstairs. This was probably their habit; a little light at night was indeed better than complete darkness.

I wasn’t sleeping, sitting on the sofa smoking.

My craving for cigarettes had been particularly strong in recent days, and Li Jiangluo was the same, chain-smoking one after another.

His way of lighting a cigarette was extremely clumsy, probably because he rarely smoked before.

The wall clock in Bolin’s house only rang once at midnight, and Li Jiangluo informed me of this, worried that I might be startled if I was asleep.

As a grown man, how could I be so easily frightened, especially since I couldn’t sleep anyway.

A faint light was still visible from the small bedroom upstairs; I wondered if he had fallen asleep yet.

Tomorrow, we were moving out. This was the home Bolin and Li Jiangluo had built together, and there was bound to be some nostalgia, right?

But then again, maybe not. There was also the possibility that he was eager to leave and start a new life.

The living room was mostly packed up, except for a painting still hanging on the wall.

That painting was created by my brother in high school. Back then, he was obsessed with oil painting, squeezing in time to paint even amidst his busy studies on weekends.

I didn’t expect this painting to be hung in their living room. After all, the artwork from high school now appeared somewhat immature.

I stubbed out my cigarette, walked over, and stared at it for a while.

Do you believe in telepathy between brothers? I do.

Ever since we were young, whenever one of us fell ill, the other would inevitably follow suit shortly afterward. Every Spring Festival, the four of us in our family enjoyed hiding gifts, and whoever found a particular gift claimed it as their own. Every time, since the beginning of this game, the gifts that Bolin and I found were always meant for each other.

Looking at this painting in front of me, I found it peculiar.

A sound from upstairs interrupted my thoughts.

Li Jiangluo emerged from the bedroom. Seeing me standing there obviously surprised him.

“Brother, you’re not asleep yet.” He descended the stairs, slightly embarrassed. “I’m just going to the restroom.”

I nodded at him and casually asked, “Did Bolin like this painting very much?”

Li Jiangluo tilted his head to glance at it, then furrowed his brows, deep in thought. “This painting wasn’t hanging here before…”

He approached, scrutinizing it closely. “A painting of his award-winning work from his undergraduate graduation year was always displayed here. When did it change to this one?”

I suddenly recalled an event. The year we started elementary school, I received a score of only forty-something on my first exam because I started playing halfway through answering the questions. After the test papers were distributed, I didn’t dare show them to my mother. So, my brother stacked our report cards together and hid them in the layer of a picture frame.

I had a hunch that this painting hadn’t appeared here for no reason.

The wall clock chimed precisely at midnight, and the nearby Li Jiangluo looked at me in puzzlement as I removed the painting.

I flipped the picture frame over. I twisted off the metal clips used to secure it, removed the backing board, and sure enough, between the board and the painting, there was an envelope tucked in.

My heart raced because this must have been the final words my brother left for the world.

On the envelope, “Open for Jiangluo” was written elegantly. I looked at Li Jiangluo. He stood there with red eyes, his chest heaving violently due to his intense breathing.

I took out the envelope. Although I was eager to know what my brother had written, I handed it to Li Jiangluo.

His hands trembled, and halfway through lifting them, tears streamed down uncontrollably, like beads, and I could almost hear the sound of them hitting the ground.

At this moment, I believed that Li Jiangluo had loved my brother. Regardless of the cause of my brother’s death, regardless of whether he and Xu Zhao had colluded to harm him, at least in this instant, his heart was still thinking of Bolin.

Tears don’t lie, and neither does the look in one’s eyes.

I set down the picture frame, holding his wrist with one hand and stuffing the envelope into his other hand.

“He wrote it for you,” I said. After uttering these words, I turned around to reattach the picture frame, then stared at the painting while my mind was preoccupied with wondering what was written in the letter.

Li Jiangluo opened the envelope, and I heard the sound of paper being folded and unfolded, crystal clear in the night, impossible to ignore.

He must have begun reading it, with teardrops landing on the paper and producing a headache-inducing sound. He had too many tears; I wondered when they would run dry.

I set down the picture frame and went over to fetch a tissue to hand to him. He was engrossed in reading, completely ignoring me.

I became even more anxious, wanting to know what my brother had written, whether he revealed who had harmed him.

I approached and wiped away Li Jiangluo’s tears, speaking sternly, “Stop crying, the words on the letter are going to be smudged.”

Finally, he lifted his head, trying to say something but opening and closing his mouth as if unable to produce any sound.

I couldn’t wait any longer and snatched the letter from his hands.

I felt that Li Jiangluo should see a psychologist, or else he would probably go crazy soon.

The letter was indeed written by my brother. I was very familiar with his handwriting, and nobody could fool me with a forgery.

So, I wouldn’t pursue the truth any further because it was already clear.

I read the letter Bolin wrote to Li Jiangluo. There was nothing to say, except that it was heartbreaking.

Sadness, pain, regret, disappointment—yes, and disappointment.

The letter made me realize that no matter how outstanding my brother appeared in my eyes, he was ultimately just an ordinary man among the millions in the world, driven by desires, who had failed others.

Now I understood why Li Jiangluo was crying so heart-wrenchingly. Ever since he learned that Bolin had contracted HIV, he kept apologizing to me. I didn’t know what he had to apologize to me or Bolin for. Clearly, it was Bolin who had cheated.

Xu Zhao knocked on the door in the morning, bringing breakfast.

Neither of us mentioned the letter Bolin had left to him.

Li Jiangluo refused to eat a single bite, causing Xu Zhao to scratch his head in frustration, looking at him with a disappointed expression, wishing iron could turn into steel.

Xu Zhao rapped on the table and scolded him, “What good does this do? Jiangluo, you can’t continue like this!”

I disliked watching Xu Zhao hovering around Li Jiangluo, so I carried a bowl and squeezed between the two of them to sit down.

They were both taken aback, but I calmly placed a steamed bun in Li Jiangluo’s bowl. “Eat quickly, and you wash the dishes after.”

I wore a stern expression, perhaps too serious, and they fell silent.

I felt guilty toward Li Jiangluo because my brother betrayed him, and I had even doubted him.

In that letter, every word and phrase conveyed Bolin’s love for Li Jiangluo, but I couldn’t comprehend why, despite loving him so much, he still cheated.

Bolin committed suicide, leaving no message for me or my parents, but wrote a full page of letter for Li Jiangluo. How could I not be angry.

Li Jiangluo’s complexion was terrible. He took a bite of the steamed bun but rushed to the toilet to vomit before he could swallow it.

I quickly followed, only to find Xu Zhao already gently stroking his back, consoling him softly.

I watched them, feeling an indescribable emotion.

The current situation was all caused by Bolin himself. He should have had a warm little family, just the two of them, Li Jiangluo and him, enjoying their lives together.

But everything was gone now.

I had lost my brother, and Li Jiangluo had lost his lover.

The perfect man in our hearts transformed after reading that letter.

The sunny brother in my heart turned out to be a tyrant in matters of the heart, ultimately leading to his own downfall.

Li Jiangluo emerged from the bathroom, looking at me apologetically.

I poured him a cup of lukewarm water, no longer forcing him to eat.

It seemed that I had to rectify the mistakes my brother had made. This was for the best; I should have returned home long ago, to be with my parents.

During my time abroad, my parents repeatedly mentioned missing their home and old friends in China. I couldn’t be selfish anymore. With one family member already gone, there was nothing more important than making them happy.

I moved with Li Jiangluo to Xu Zhao’s unoccupied house. Xu Zhao had matters to attend to at the police station and left first, leaving us two keys.

Li Jiangluo stood there in a daze, and I said to him, “I’m planning to work back in China. For now, we’ll stay here, and I’ll look for a place in a few days.”