Her pace quickened. For once, she rushed in without thinking, calling out, "You're back!"
Wen Shaoyu was packing his schoolbag. He had missed three days of school for the wake. Fortunately, he had a solid foundation, and at this point in senior year, it was all review, so the impact shouldn't be too great.
Seeing Ji Shuhe, he nodded for her to come in. "The farewell ceremony is over. I had a meal with everyone and came back. Granny didn't have many relatives in Xinhai; that guy handled all the formalities. I'm okay, don't worry."
Ji Shuhe stood still, just giving a soft "Mm."
Sensing something was off, Wen Shaoyu stopped what he was doing. "What's wrong?"
There was so much she wanted to ask—like whether he had returned to Yong'anli today, and whether he would come back here every day until senior year ended, whether he would choose to live alone again.
Ji Shuhe shook her head.
What Wen Shaoyu chose had nothing to do with her, fundamentally. Asking now would only upset him.
She stepped closer, then suddenly opened her arms. "Do you need a hug?"
Wen Shaoyu's thoughts were a mess; he couldn't keep up with her train of thought, but his body obeyed his heart as he moved toward her.
As Ji Shuhe's warm embrace enveloped him, carrying an unfamiliar scent, the strong facade Wen Shaoyu had maintained in front of others finally crumbled.
He was still a seventeen-year-old boy. Even if he was mature for his age, even if he felt he should bear all responsibility as the last of his bloodline, he was still trapped in the grief of losing a loved one, fearful of the uncertain future.
"Granny suffered so much. Even though we turned her and cleaned her every day, the bedsores were still severe. Many parts of her body were rotting. She was meticulous about cleanliness and beauty when she was young—she probably couldn't accept that and left suddenly that night."
"I know that when it's time to go, less suffering is a good thing. But Ji Shuhe, I feel like... I don't have a home anymore."
A tear slipped from the corner of Wen Shaoyu's eye, falling silently onto Ji Shuhe's school uniform jacket. But even as he spoke, there was no sob in his voice.
Ji Shuhe stood on tiptoe, barely reaching his back. She wasn't good at comforting people, so she simply patted his back and repeated over and over, "It'll be okay, Wen Shaoyu. Everything will be okay."
The last time they had encouraged each other like this was during the Spring Festival, vowing not to let life be too bitter and to make changes. But a year had passed, and things had only gotten worse.
Sometimes even Ji Shuhe didn't believe her own words.
Would it really get better?
Not necessarily, but it couldn't be worse than this.
So Wen Shaoyu doubted too: "Really?"
But Ji Shuhe was certain. "Really."
After a brief silence, Wen Shaoyu's muffled voice reached her ear. "Don't lie to me."
"Mm. I won't."
At that time, Wen Shaoyu was less than two months away from turning eighteen, and only seven months from the college entrance exam.
At this so-called critical juncture, Wen Shaoyu, after suffering such a huge loss, seemed to have become a different person.
At school, he buried himself in books and problems, growing increasingly silent. Even Ji Shulang found him unfamiliar—the sharp-tongued, seemingly carefree Wen Shaoyu seemed to belong to a past life.
The three of them still gathered together. The elders couldn't stand seeing the kids eat instant noodles, and one more mouth didn't cost much, so they took care of Wen Shaoyu's meals.
The Ji family's dining table moved from Ji Shuhe's grandparents' room to the communal living room. The table was the folding square table that used to be in Granny Zheng's room. Folded out, it was square with curved sides, and fully expanded, it could become a round table.
Eventually, they stopped putting the table away. It stayed in the middle of the room, facing the front door. On it sat a fake phalaenopsis that Chu Yue had picked up. Ji Shulang, lacking any sense of aesthetics, complained to his mother about placing an ugly fake flower that had to be moved before each meal—pure fussiness.
Of course, his father gave him a smack on the back of the head for that, telling him to eat more and use his brain less. If he still felt itchy, he could go get his exam papers signed directly by Chu Yue.
Ji Shuhe bumped Wen Shaoyu with her leg, signaling him to help Ji Shulang out, but the guy sat there calmly, completely unresponsive. Seeing Ji Shulang's pitiful pleading look, she reached out to poke Wen Shaoyu, but before her fingertip touched anything, her hand was caught by his.
Ji Shulang was beyond saving.
In the end, the phalaenopsis became a permanent fixture on the table. Ji Shulang would straighten it every time he passed and saw it askew.
As time went on, Ji Shuhe even witnessed Wen Shaoyu paying for meals to Grandma Ji.
In the kitchen, where the light had to be on even during the day, Grandma and Wen Shaoyu were pushing a stack of red bills back and forth. In terms of strength, Wen Shaoyu should have won easily, but he didn't dare use force against Grandma and was forced to lose.
Then Grandma started talking about her decades as Granny Zheng's neighbor, how they helped each other raise children back in the day, how they got through even the hardest times. Though they hadn't moved out of the old alley, their conditions had improved; she couldn't accept money for Wen Shaoyu's meals.
Out of politeness, Ji Shuhe should have left at that point, but she heard Grandma talk about her too. She said her little granddaughter had also suffered, that she was so well-behaved and sensible because she had left her parents.
"We old folks don't have much ability, but our pension is enough to raise a little girl. All the living expenses our daughter-in-law sends, I've saved for Shuhe. When she goes to college, I'll give it all back to her."
Ji Shuhe had always known that everyone in the Ji family was good.
Each one carried the same gentle kindness, able to forgive each other's mistakes, allowing themselves not to be too successful. The 'can't do' that had plagued Ji Shuhe was no longer a reason for scolding or blame.
These should have been the basic principles of a home as a haven, but after experiencing her own precarious nuclear family, Ji Shuhe found them especially precious.
She thought that in such an environment, given enough time, Wen Shaoyu would eventually heal.
But in her eyes, he only grew more silent.
She asked him many times, directly or indirectly, but Wen Shaoyu would just shake his head, tap her forehead, and tell her not to overthink things.
And so the days passed until another early winter.
Ji Shuhe, as a sophomore, usually finished school earlier than the seniors. That day, the family was waiting for the two seniors to come home for dinner, but only Ji Shulang walked through the door with his bag.
"Where's Wen Shaoyu? Didn't he come back?" Ji Shuhe peered outside.
Ji Shulang pulled out a chair, plopped down, propped his head on his hand, and sighed. "He's back. But he's being stopped at the alley entrance."
"What happened?"
Chu Yue came out of the kitchen just then, wiping her wet hands on her apron. Hearing this, she thought Wen Shaoyu was in trouble.
Ji Shulang raised an eyebrow, looking helpless. "That father of his showed up again."