Don’t know whether those people, after knowing this news, would feel very sad — their white moonlight was carried away by her, hidden in her room.
Actually, they also once had a chance. In the past few days, he was completely ignored by everyone. According to reason, universities have class group chats — once one person received the news, basically everyone should have known that he had an accident.
Taking advantage of someone’s misfortune at this time — helping others happily — was the best chance to obtain this holy Tianshan snow lotus.
But not one person made a move. At most, together with others, they formed a group to come see him, sent some nutritional supplements and fruits, that’s all.
Don’t know whether they didn’t see his difficulties, or they did see but were powerless.
Girls at this age mostly are still in the stage of reaching out hands to ask for money; they themselves still have to rely on their families to be raised — how could they raise him too.
At most, they took out their own pocket money to help pay a bit of medical fees.
When Nan Zhi paid the bill, the window clerk said his classmates had also gathered money and paid a part.
There must be their thoughts included too.
Nan Zhi looked at him, felt that with his appearance conditions, among those who liked him, it’s impossible that there weren’t rich ones, financially independent ones — they also didn’t make a move, don’t know for what reason.
Maybe it’s that he was already different from the impression in their minds, no longer had that arrogance, also lacked that much high-spirited vigor — no longer fit their standards.
His legs were crippled, his future also cut off. If being together with him at this time, in the future maybe would even have to raise him — no girl wants her partner to be someone she has to raise.
So just like his uncle and aunt, after weighing the pros and cons, they also gave up on him.
Then she just picked up the leak. [捡了漏 jiǎn le lòu, slang meaning “to pick up a bargain,” often implying getting something valuable others discarded or missed]
Others couldn’t see it, but she was clear — this person had not given up. There was still light in his eyes, still looking toward the heights.
A person whose youth was tied full of constraints and burdens, could still step by step walk to the front of the crowd — now that those bindings were gone, he could live for himself; actually, he might walk even faster.
He hadn’t realized yet — being given up on might not be a bad thing.
At least now and from now on, when he earns money, he only needs to spend it on himself.
From now on, he will live for himself.
—
Song Qing was waiting for her to open a new delivery, while waiting, somewhat strangely looked toward her.
He didn’t quite understand why her tone was so firm, as if feeling that someone would definitely pursue him.
A person who usually is so poor he can’t even pull out two yuan — how could anyone like him.
Like to pick up trash with him?
But speaking of it, he spent all day running around for livelihood, used all his spare time on earning money and studying — truly hadn’t paid attention to other things.
He also wasn’t sure if anyone liked him. But he felt there probably wasn’t. In front of that group of classmates, he had picked up empty drink bottles, worked in the canteen at noon, even got seen by them wearing girls’ stockings.
Packing up food after eating together — no one would like a boy like that.
Being liked also couldn’t make his days any better, so how others saw him, whether they disliked him or not — he didn’t care.
Only after falling into hardship did he start to care about these things. But because he was picked up quickly, for now, it was only toward her that he was like this.
Only this person is the exception.
As long as he cared about her thoughts, didn’t make her dislike him — that was enough.
Song Qing saw that she had finished unboxing a new delivery. He turned back to get the cardboard box. Because it was far away, he bent his waist deeply, pulling at the wound. The pain made his brows knit, and his movement paused for a moment.
Nan Zhi was admiring the asparagus fern she bought — also 9.9 yuan with free shipping, came with a base plate and purple clay pot, very good-looking. She thought of the glue tape and sand left inside the cardboard box, originally wanted to remind him to be careful, but when she lifted her head, she saw his long fingers hooked on the cardboard box tremble slightly.
That hand didn’t take the box away, but instead gripped the wheelchair handle — gripping so tightly that his fingertips lost color.
Only then did Nan Zhi notice — his condition seemed not quite right.
There was sweat on his forehead, the color of his face and neck were both unusually pale, like he was enduring some kind of pain.
Nan Zhi belatedly realized — this person was still in the recovery period, not in a healthy state. He couldn’t keep bending over and standing back up again and again — if he bent too much, the wound might tear.
She quickly stood up, kicked the not-yet-unpacked packages all under the curtain next to the storage room.
To be lazy and store cleaning supplies, she had a small half space under the stairs covered only by a curtain, convenient for her to stash things inside.
After she finished, Nan Zhi went to push his wheelchair. “Let’s stop here for today, finish the rest when there’s time.”
She had been careless — seeing him appear fine, she thought he was okay. Maybe this person had been enduring all along and just didn’t show it.
Song Qing pressed a hand on the outer wheel rim, “I’m fine.”
Nan Zhi didn’t listen to him and insisted on pushing him into the bright part of the living room, then looked at his leg injury.
The gauze was newly wrapped — either today or just yesterday. It was very clean, the folds barely visible, which showed that his wound was actually being properly cared for.
That red smear on top she saw earlier when he got in the car also wasn’t blood — looked more like a stain left by povidone-iodine, and when too much is applied, it looks a bit dark — from a distance, it made her mistake it for red. But actually, it was just povidone-iodine.
Looked like there was nothing serious. The pain was caused by too much movement. As long as he stopped moving around, it would be fine.
Nan Zhi pulled down the leg opening of his five-point shorts, covering the connection between his knee and the gauze, hiding his exposed skin.
“It’s late. Have a good rest.” Afraid he would secretly continue doing chores behind her back, Nan Zhi added, “Don’t touch any of that stuff again. Wait until you’re better to do it, understand?”
She sneakily said: “Once you’re better, you won’t be able to escape a single task.”
It was just folding boxes and plastic bags, small chores that wouldn’t exhaust him — Nan Zhi really was planning to hand them over to him later.
Can’t let him live here for free — just treat it as offsetting medical fees and rent.
Nan Zhi only felt at ease after hearing him softly give an “mm” like a little wife.
As she walked upstairs, she kept looking back at him. That tiny, slow sound, along with his consistently obedient demeanor — really did look like a little wife.
Nan Zhi unreasonably had the feeling of secretly raising a little pampered wife at home.
These past few years, not sure how it started, girls especially liked calling boys “little pampered wife,” calling male celebrities “wife.”
They were just joking with their mouths, but Nan Zhi realized she really was raising one.
I’m just that powerful.
Nan Zhi stood at the corner, and while she was at it, turned off a few useless and edge-positioned lights on the first floor. After turning them off, she stood at the staircase entrance and almost saw with her own eyes how the bottom slowly dimmed — no longer as bright.
Song Qing sat in the wheelchair, behind him was the empty living room. He lifted his eyes, quietly watching her go.
Nan Zhi then turned off a few more peripheral lights — downlights, spotlights, lights along the dining room lines — the downstairs got even darker, only beside Song Qing, like a lone fishing boat on the sea, one light shone alone brightly.
Don’t know why — it gave off a bit of a lonely and desolate feeling. Nan Zhi then turned on two of the main lights. Those messy decorative lights all stayed off, but with the main lights on, the downstairs was clear and bright again.
Only then did she turn around and continue heading upstairs.
The second floor had never had anyone come in before. Only the stairway light was on. Inside was all dim and dark, a wave of cold stillness hit her face.
As usual, Nan Zhi turned on all the lights at the entrance. Only when it was bright inside did she go in.
Even so, such a big space, with only one person living in it, the interior style also leaned toward cool white — not a bit of homey feeling — it made her involuntarily think of the house back in her hometown.
Even though it was a three-story small building, no matter how late she came home, the house always had its lights on. There was a little old lady in the courtyard, with food cooked, waiting for her to come home.
She had lived like that for over ten years. Only after Grandma was gone did she realize — the house’s lights wouldn’t turn on by themselves, and meals wouldn’t be made waiting for her to eat.
If no one cleaned the house, dust would accumulate. If no one called her to wake up, she would be late. If no one replaced the water, the bucket would always be empty.
After that little old lady was gone, the house suddenly became big. The previous three-story small building — with over a hundred square meters per floor and no shared hallways — she had never once thought it was big. Now, it was just two floors, the floor height was a lot lower, the rooms and living room were all much smaller, but it just felt big — empty and echoing.
People who are used to living with others, probably just can’t adapt to living alone. Maybe that’s why — that it happened so easily, without much mental preparation — she brought someone back.
At that time, a ridiculous thought emerged in her heart: even if bringing him back as a decoration, that would be fine. With some human presence, someone moving around, it would be a bit better.
She had thought before about renting it out — but if renting, she’d at least have to prepare all the equipment, the room too. The first floor didn’t even have a bed. A sofa bed wasn’t a proper, real sleeping place.
There’d be a need to divide with glass doors and so on — not to mention whether someone would be willing — even Nan Zhi herself felt it wouldn’t work, so she gave up on that idea long ago.
Letting Song Qing live there was because it was free, so no need to be particular about those things.
Nan Zhi had already entered her bedroom. She pulled open the curtains, revealing a full wall of glass — in the middle of the “wall” was also a row of glass windows.
Facing the interior directly, so the windows she almost never closed, unless she needed to turn on the air conditioner.
Nan Zhi curled up in front of the glass, looking down, observing Song Qing downstairs.
Not sure if he was unaccustomed, but he was sitting in the wheelchair, motionless for a long time.
His gaze was toward the balcony — at the location of that potted plant.
The flower was placed by Nan Zhi, deliberately positioned at the most conspicuous spot, so he could see its changes anytime, so that the stretching green branches could give him strength.
Actually, Nan Zhi was also raising a flower. Also placed in the most conspicuous place, where she could see it anytime. She too hoped that flower could give her strength — to lift herself back up.
The flower Nan Zhi was raising was one that bloomed in the slums — a Tianshan snow lotus growing on sheer cliffs.
Clearly it had fallen into a low valley — stem broken, leaves torn, outside looked dispirited and lifeless, the leaves yellowed and withered. But when you peeled apart the dead leaves, broke open the branch tips — inside, you would find it was still green.
She looked forward to a miracle — hoped that he would revive like dry wood in spring, once again standing tall on a ten-thousand-zhang cliff, standing atop the peak, overlooking all living beings.
When that flower bloomed again, she too would be inspired to break free from her current situation.
Nan Zhi had three houses, lacked neither food nor drink, and had once been someone’s pearl-in-the-palm, but she was not happy.
What she called “picking up a leak” — was also because of this. A flower like this was too rare — and happened to be exactly what she needed.
Just like Song Qing needed that potted flower on the balcony to stir him forward, she also needed Song Qing, this flower, to urge her on.
—
T/N: This chapter is quiet but aching. It captures that strange loneliness of living in a place that’s too big, too silent, after someone who once filled it is gone. Nan Zhi isn’t just helping Song Qing out of kindness—she’s keeping herself afloat through him, anchoring her empty world to someone else’s survival.
It’s not romance yet, not really. It’s two broken people orbiting each other carefully.