Chapter 3

"I want to break up, Ji Anyan. Let's break up."

His expression darkened.

"You're upset right now. We'll talk about it later."

"Rest first."

After writing that, he left the ward without waiting for my answer.

7.

I fell asleep and dreamed of university.

Back then, he'd listened to me chatter about everything under the sun and laughed until he couldn't stop.

The friend sitting in front of us said helplessly, "Xia Cun, where do you find so much to tell Ji Anyan every day?"

I grinned.

"When you see someone you like, you just have a lot you want to tell them."

He laughed even harder.

Our friend covered his face.

"I can't take you two being all lovey-dovey every day!"

After graduation, he joined his family's company.

I pursued the work I loved.

He had less and less time to listen.

Less and less to say to me.

Until finally, full of irritation, he'd said, "Xia Cun, don't you think you're noisy?"

"Can't you shut up and be quiet for a minute?"

I startled awake.

An immense emptiness lay around my ears.

So quiet.

A dream.

I wiped my face, found my shoes, and left the ward.

I turned.

And stopped.

Ji Anyan was supporting Mu Xueqing.

Her eyes were red, as though she'd just been crying.

Perhaps he was comforting her.

That patient expression was exactly like the man in my dream.

When he saw me, he stiffened.

He released her at once and came toward me.

But she caught his arm, said something, then doubled over, clutching her stomach.

He frowned and turned to support her again.

By the time he looked up, I'd gone.

I stood in a bubble tea shop on the hospital's ground floor, studying the new-drink advertisement.

Then I scanned the code with my phone and ordered.

I waited quietly at the side, watching the order numbers on the screen.

A rush of air passed me.

I looked up.

Ji Anyan had stopped in front of me, worry still on his face.

He held out his phone.

"Xueqing has gastroenteritis."

"It's from all the overtime she used to work. She had a fright and got too upset, so it's flared up again."

I had no patience to read it all.

I nodded, pushed past him, and collected my drink.

Then I walked around him and left.

He paused, then followed.

When he tried to enter my ward after me, I turned and blocked him.

"Stop following me."

"We've broken up."

His face tightened.

He said, "No."

8.

He kept coming every day.

Smiling stiffly.

Saying so much.

Writing so much.

I could read more and more of his lips.

But I spoke less and less.

He brought all three meals every day.

In front of him, I asked the care aide to take all his food and fruit to Mu Xueqing's room.

She liked things that belonged to other people, after all.

I could do without them.

His expression froze.

"I've told Mu Xueqing to transfer to another hospital."

"You dislike her. I won't make you see her again."

I thought for a moment.

Then I took his pen and wrote directly beneath those two lines.

"I dislike you too. I don't want to see you either."

He stared at the paper for a long time.

From that moment, I stopped speaking to him.

When he annoyed me, I'd snatch his pen and paper and write.

"We've broken up."

"Ji Anyan, we've broken up."

He pressed his lips together, tore up the paper, and threw it into the bin.

"Xiao Cun, I know you blame me."

"But nothing like that will ever happen again."

I glanced coolly at him.

Then at the bin.

A mocking smile tugged at my lips.

He only watched me in silence.

After that, I didn't even want to write to him.

I wouldn't read anything he wrote either.

One afternoon, in the sunset light, he lowered his eyes to my turned back and said softly, "Xiao Cun, talk to me. I want to hear your voice."

"Just say a few words…"

I closed my eyes.

Only after a long while did I feel him leave.

On the day I was discharged, my friend came to collect me.

She poked at my ear and asked whether I really couldn't hear anything.

I shook my head.

Then she kept talking in different pitches, trying to find out whether I could hear her.

Between guessing and catching bits here and there, we managed a conversation that had us both giggling.

When I looked up, I suddenly saw Ji Anyan leaning against the ward doorway.

He'd been watching me quietly.

His expression was calm.

I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

My smile vanished.

"Let's go," I told my friend.

He came to help carry my things.

She brushed his hand away.

I followed her.

Suddenly, I heard him ask: