Chapter 17: He Saw the Powerless Look on His Own Face

After finishing the barbecue, the hand warmer had long lost its warmth, and the men at the next table were shouting and laughing loudly while drinking. Jian Li went to pay the bill, and the boss smiled, “The young man already paid.”

Jian Li turned to Zhou Shubei. “Wasn’t I treating you to a meal?”

Zhou Shubei was holding an umbrella. “Your phone is dead. Next time.”

Jian Li paused for a moment, even though she knew it was probably just a casual remark, she still felt a slight anticipation. Her hand, which had been reaching into her bag to take out money, hesitated. “Alright, next time.”

Zhou Shubei smiled faintly, the umbrella covering her head. “Let’s go.”

The umbrella felt a bit crowded for the two of them. Jian Li’s shoulder occasionally brushed against his arm, and after a few times, Zhou Shubei subtly shifted his arm backward, from an angle, it seemed as if he was holding her.

Jian Li’s fingers, resting by her side, curled slightly as they passed by one food stall after another, filled with delicious aromas, until she saw the shiny sedan.

A few leaves had fallen onto the windshield, and a note was wedged under the wipers.

Jian Li tried to pull the door handle but couldn’t, so she turned to wait for him to open it.

Zhou Shubei paid for the parking, casually slipping the note into his pocket and raising an eyebrow. “Did you really think I was your driver?”

“…”

He opened the passenger side door. “Sit here.”

Jian Li obediently walked around and bent to sit in the passenger seat, placing her backpack on her lap and reaching for the seatbelt.

She tugged twice but couldn’t get it to move. Seeing Zhou Shubei effortlessly pull it down and fasten it, she tried again but still no response.

She felt a bit awkward. “How do you pull this out?”

This was her first time sitting in the passenger seat and her first time using this kind of seatbelt. On buses, it was just about finding both ends and clipping them together.

Zhou Shubei unbuckled the seatbelt he had just fastened, leaned over, his clear joints hooking the strap, pulling it out and fastening it again.

“You just need to pull gently. If you pull too hard, it tightens to prevent you from being thrown forward in a collision, it forces the seatbelt to spring back.”

He explained the mechanism of the seatbelt, his gaze showing no hint of mockery.

“Oh.” Jian Li quietly noted this down.

Zhou Shubei turned on the indicator and drove onto the main road.

This was Jian Li’s first time seeing the nightscape of North City. The lively streets during the day were now draped in a luxurious evening veil, and the most prominent building in the distance lit up with the words “Guanghui Group” embedded at the top. The rain-soaked streets shimmered as she overheard a shop playing the song “Even if the heavy rain turns this city upside down, I will give you a hug.”

The car windows fogged up, and the reflection of Zhou Shubei’s figure appeared as they passed through a tunnel.

As they were about to exit the tunnel, Zhou Shubei pressed the screen, and music filled the car, breaking the silence.

North City University had strict regulations for vehicles entering and exiting. Only registered vehicles were allowed; other civilian vehicles were prohibited from entering.

The rain had stopped, and after saying goodbye to Zhou Shubei at the entrance, Jian Li went back to her room, washed up, and sat on the bed to turn her phone back on.

There were several messages on WeChat.

Jian Li clicked on Zhou Shubei’s profile.

Two messages.

One was asking where she was earlier, and the other was a missed voice call.

Jian Li glanced at the time in the top right corner and tentatively knocked on the door: 【Did you arrive?】

Zhou Shubei didn’t reply. She switched to the campus part-time group chat.

【There’s a performance tomorrow night at the soccer field by several clubs, and we need people to help with publicity. We’ll be moving chairs and water. Who’s available and willing to participate?】

Several people responded, and Jian Li looked at her hands. Moving a chair wasn’t an issue, and the job also paid.

Thinking this, she raised her hand along with the others.

Before going to bed, her phone screen lit up.

【I’m here.】

Jian Li couldn’t help but smile and typed seriously: 【Thanks for today. Let me know when you’re free, and I’ll treat you to a meal.】

Zhou Shubei pressed his thumb down: 【Mm.】

Just as the message was sent, Cotton Candy jumped over from the other side of the sofa, expertly sitting on his lap and purring. It pawed at his hand, rolled over, and signaled him to scratch its belly.

Zhou Shubei chuckled at its contented look, put down his phone, and scratched its chin. Cotton Candy immediately lifted its head, its four paws spread wide, pink pads resting on his hand. It made a soft, satisfied noise.

He lived on the top floor of the building, and opening the window gave him a view of most of the neighborhood. The plum tree in the yard hadn’t yet bloomed.

Northern plum trees bloomed later than those in the south. By this time, in Xiyuan, the trees were already full of buds, and after his exams, when he opened the gate, he would see the full blossoms of the red plums. His grandmother, with silver hair, would sit at the door holding Cotton Candy, waiting for him to come home.

When she saw him, she would pat Cotton Candy’s head, “Your brother is back, go greet him.”

Back then, Cotton Candy was very aloof, turning its head away, clearly uninterested in him. He would not accept this and would forcibly pull it into his arms, holding its paws to make it greet him.

“Meow!”

Cotton Candy hissed at him and slapped his face with its paw. It then jumped out of his arms, climbed up the plum tree at the door, and meowed proudly from there.

“Wait for me.”

His competitive spirit flared up. He put his bag down, rolled up his sleeves, and climbed the tree to catch the cat.

“How old are you now, and you’re still fighting with a cat?” His grandmother laughed, watching from the side. “Be careful, don’t get scratched by the branches, and don’t fall.”

Cotton Candy moved swiftly. When he was close to catching it, it quickly ran down to another tree, and he followed it, one person and one cat in a chase. His grandmother initially advised him to stop but later just sat and watched, occasionally reminding him where Cotton Candy was heading.

“Meow!”

Cotton Candy angrily meowed at her, as if upset she was helping him.

“Okay, okay, I won’t say anything.” His grandmother laughed, coaxing the cat.

Xiyuan didn’t get snow. They chased the falling plum blossoms, like a beautiful flower petal rain. He finally caught Cotton Candy, turned around, and saw his grandmother smiling, reaching out to catch the petals. In the midst of the flower shower, her face was kind, calling him—

“Abei, dinner is ready.”

“…”

“Abei, keep your grandmother company.”

Her once smooth hand was now rough, as thin as bone. He didn’t know when her wrinkles became so deep. He couldn’t see the image of her sitting in the yard with the cat under the grapevine, listening to dramas. She had seemingly become a fallen leaf, something he could never grasp, no matter how hard he tried.

Zhou Shubei tightly held her hand, his voice trembling, “Grandma, please believe I’ll be fine, I’ll get better.” His forehead pressed against her hand. “They promised to find the best experts, the best hospitals, I’ll get better, I will.”

His grandmother looked at him, “Our Abei has suffered.”

Zhou Shubei shook his head. “I got into North City University, you haven’t seen my high school diploma, you haven’t seen me grow up, fall in love, get married. I haven’t let you live the life where you play mahjong and raise cats during the day, and dance square dance with old men at night. Cotton Candy’s wife is pregnant, and you still have to choose. I haven’t bought you a house in Hainan, where you can open the window and see the blue sea.”

His fingers were turning white, his heart clenched as if someone was holding it. The person in front of him was losing their life, and yet he couldn’t do anything.

“Grandma, don’t leave me.”

Don’t leave me. You’re the only family I have.

“I will see it.” His grandmother patted his hand, her breath faint, nearly inaudible. “The girl Abei likes will definitely be the best and most outstanding. I’ll bless Abei from up above.”

“Abei, live well.”

“Don’t resent, don’t hate.”

“Abei…”

“Abei…”

The voice grew quieter, and her hand that had been placed in his palm suddenly dropped.

The world seemed to quiet at that moment. Zhou Shubei slowly raised his head. The person wearing the breathing apparatus closed their eyes. The ECG showed a brief fluctuation before it turned into a flat line.

Outside, a thunderstorm struck, and heavy rain began to pour. The glass quickly accumulated droplets. He saw his own face in the reflection, the powerless look on it.

He gently placed his grandmother’s hand back under the blanket and leaned over to remove the devices on her face, his voice low and soft—

“You’ve worked hard.”

The phone on the cabinet lit up.

March 5th.

The start of spring.

The doctor came in and attempted emergency resuscitation, but to no avail. They regretfully advised him to grieve. He stood by the bed, acknowledging them with a calm face.

After the funeral, he returned to school and continued attending classes as usual, still meeting with other classmates to play basketball after school.

That day, the game ended early, and the others were eager to head home. He threw the basketball into the hoop, watching it bounce and finally roll to a dark, damp corner, like his eighteen years.

That evening, just like the day his grandmother passed away, it suddenly began to rain. As he was leaving the school, the guard stopped him, saying a girl had sent something for him.

He thought it was just some fancy love letter or the usual yearbook. He took it, thinking of tearing it up, but found it was an umbrella.

A dark blue checkered one, with a glass jar inside that held what looked like folded paper stars. He had seen these before, and had received quite a few, with a note pressed beneath the jar.

The neat handwriting, with visible signs of haste in the strokes.

Below the note, there was a smiling face drawn.

“The little girl was so anxious. I couldn’t get her to listen no matter how many times I called her. She just ran off in the rain like that.” The guard said.

Zhou Shubei looked toward the voice and saw only a slender figure running in the heavy rain, once, twice, never looking back, clearly afraid she would be caught.

That day, he didn’t get wet.

He thought the girl would come to him, tell him she was the one who sent the umbrella. He had seen this happen several times before and was too lazy to call them out, but she never appeared, not even after he graduated from high school.

It seemed like just a simple good deed.

But it wasn’t.

“Good and evil are always repaid, the cause you plant will return to you in the future.” His grandmother used to tell him stories about how good deeds are rewarded and bad deeds punished. “So, Abei, be kind to others in the future. If you see someone in need of help, do what you can. Maybe one day, you’ll be rewarded in unexpected ways. And even if not, you may have helped someone in need.”

Zhou Shubei looked at the yellowing paper, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Meow.”

Cotton Candy stood up, resting its paws on his shoulder. It rubbed its head against his cheek, sniffing the paper in his hand, but not liking it, it jumped off and climbed up to the window sill, watching the plum blossoms outside.

The phone on the sofa rang, and Zhou Shubei picked it up to see.

There was a new email.

He opened it to find several photos of Zhou Yangzhi.

A cold glint flashed in Zhou Shubei’s eyes as he immediately made a phone call, “Publish it anonymously to the media, just blur his face a little.”

He poured himself a glass of ice water, the coldness spreading from his throat to his stomach. His fingers, with their sharp joints, turned the glass, watching his own reflection on the surface. He gave a light smile. “Leave a little face for this big brother of mine.”