The passing of people left behind a blank space, and the world continued to spin around the void.
Bian Cheng attended classes, worked on derivations, and wrote papers as usual every day. At night, he talked with Jiang Yu on the phone—sometimes conversing, sometimes simply staying connected in silence. He had already grown accustomed to saying goodnight.
A month later, Bian Cheng received a phone call during the day. This time, it served the original purpose of giving Jiang Yu his number.
Jiang Yunrou was critically ill.
However, when Bian Cheng arrived at the hospital, he did not encounter the imagined scene of heartbreaking grief. Jiang Yunrou lay quietly on the hospital bed, her bloodless face turned toward her son beside her. Jiang Yu held a collection album in his hands, sunlight streaming through the glass to illuminate the four-leaf clovers.
This was the second time that year Bian Cheng faced death. But this time, there were no bouquets or fruit baskets in the ward, no private space for a family gathering. Besides the Jiang mother and son, five other patients shared the room, each enduring similar hardships.
When Bian Cheng entered, Jiang Yu stood up immediately, giving his chair to him. Bian Cheng shook his head, and Jiang Yu followed suit, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.
Jiang Yunrou did not seem surprised to see him. She had some inkling about her son’s nightly phone calls.
She asked Bian Cheng as usual: “Have you eaten?”
Bian Cheng gave a negative answer. She thought for a moment and said, “There’s nothing good to eat in the hospital.” Then she pulled a banknote from the side of the bed and handed it to Jiang Yu. “Go buy two apples. Do you know how to buy them?”
Jiang Yu nodded, jumped off the bed, and quickly walked out the door.
Bian Cheng looked at the get-well gifts beside the other hospital beds and said, “I should have been the one to bring fruit.”
“Buying it would just be a waste,” Jiang Yunrou said. “I can’t eat anymore.”
Jiang Yunrou wasn’t much older than him, and traces of youth still lingered on her face, though illness had gnawed away at almost everything else.
Bian Cheng remembered the purpose of his visit. He took a folder out of his briefcase and handed it to the patient. “I redrafted this and consulted a lawyer. There shouldn’t be any issues.”
Jiang Yunrou took the document from the folder and glanced at it. It was a child custody transfer agreement. The document detailed the rights and responsibilities of the guardian during the custody transfer, including the estimated monthly expenses for living, education, and medical care, as well as the child’s living arrangements, educational plan, and healthcare provisions. Her hand held the corner of the paper, hovering mid-air for a long time without moving. Bian Cheng couldn’t discern her feelings from her expression—this was not his strength. After a prolonged silence and careful review, Jiang Yunrou set the document down and asked, “Do you have a pen?”
Bian Cheng took a pen from his bag and handed it to her. She carefully flattened the paper and neatly signed her name at the bottom of the document.
When handing the agreement back to Bian Cheng, she said, “Thank you.”
Bian Cheng replied, “There’s nothing to thank me for. I’m just doing this for myself.”
Jiang Yunrou looked at him, and he added, “Lately, if I don’t hear someone tell me goodnight every day, I always feel empty in my heart.”
The young woman began to talk with him about death. “I heard from Ah Yu that your grandfather passed away.”
“Yes.”
“My condolences.”
“Before he left, he kept saying, ‘It would be impolite not to die,’” Bian Cheng said. “The people around him tried their best to keep him here, but he didn’t care at all.”
“That’s a good thing to say,” Jiang Yunrou said. “Thinking it’s okay to die now means this life has been worth living.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Bian Cheng thought for a moment and asked, “What about you?”
“Me?” Jiang Yunrou said. “Of course, I don’t think that way. Almost none of my wishes have ever come true.”
“What wishes?”
“So many, so many,” Jiang Yunrou said. “Loving parents, a happy family, a beautiful house, a job I like… when you fail to get the things you want once or twice, you no longer dare to hope for anything.”
In the end, even life itself was something she could no longer hope for.
The ward was warm and harmonious, as if everyone was calmly welcoming death. But beneath the calm lay suppressed dissatisfaction and resentment. She wanted to question and curse someone at the top of her lungs.
“Why me?” Jiang Yunrou said. “Why, out of so many people living their lives just fine, do I have to be the one to die?”
She looked at the trees, the sky, the tall buildings, and the bustling traffic outside the window.
“Tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, they will still be there, they’ll still be here. Only I will disappear. It’s so unfair.”
She lowered her voice to avoid disturbing her fellow patients who were chatting with their children. In the end, she didn’t loudly question or curse anyone.
Jiang Yu returned, carrying a bag with two apples inside. He handed the remaining money to Jiang Yunrou, who counted it in her hand, shook her head, and softly said that the shopkeeper here was dishonest.
Jiang Yu didn’t hear his mother’s sigh. He washed the apples, then sat by the bed peeling them, moving slowly and carefully. After peeling the apple into a pitifully scarred state, he proudly handed it to Bian Cheng. The two of them shared and finished eating it.
In the evening, Bian Cheng took him to a noodle shop near the hospital. After placing their order, Bian Cheng took out his phone to pay, but Jiang Yu quickly waved his hand. His mother had told him never to let a guest pay.
Bian Cheng thought for a moment and didn’t stop him. Jiang Yu pulled out a handful of small change from his pocket and placed it on the table, staring at it for a long time. First, he took out a twenty-yuan bill, then a five-yuan note. He hesitated about whether to add it, thought it over, and put it back, only to take out another twenty-yuan bill.
“That’s enough, kid,” the shopkeeper said.
Jiang Yu looked like he was in a daze, so the shopkeeper took two twenty-yuan bills, gave him the change, and placed it in front of him.
He then began slowly putting the change back into his pocket, and the whole process was maddeningly slow.
They sat across from each other at the table, and soon, steaming bowls of noodles were brought out. The aroma of sesame oil was enticing, and next to the golden fried egg was a generous serving of pickled mustard greens.
Bian Cheng slowly stirred his noodles, watching as Jiang Yu puffed out his cheeks to blow on the soup, eager to get to the pork chop. It wasn’t the best time to ask questions, but Bian Cheng never considered timing or atmosphere: “Do you usually attend math class?”
Jiang Yu nodded.
“Do you do exercises?”
Jiang Yu nodded: “The teacher said that mathematics is very important and we must study hard.”
Bian Cheng asked, “Have you learned multiplication?”
Jiang Yu started to zone out. Bian Cheng thought he had probably learned it but forgotten.
Bian Cheng took out some fried peanuts and placed them in a small bowl beside them. “Multiplication is adding the same number repeatedly. The number you multiply by tells you how many times to add it.”
He picked out four peanuts. “For example, this is four.”
Jiang Yu nodded.
“If it’s two times four, it’s adding two fours together.” He added another four peanuts. “How many is that now?”
Jiang Yu counted them one by one. “Eight.”
“Correct.” Bian Cheng added another four. “If it’s three times four, it’s adding three fours together. How many now?”
Jiang Yu counted them all over again. “Twelve.”
“Then what about eight times four?”
Jiang Yu stared at the bowl for a long time, then carefully used his chopsticks to pick up one peanut and added it to the pile. He glanced at Bian Cheng. Seeing no reaction, he added another, then looked at him again. When Bian Cheng still said nothing, he continued to add more, then froze—there were no more peanuts.
Bian Cheng sighed and poured the peanuts back into the bowl. Jiang Yu stared at his bowl of noodles, feeling dejected for not being able to answer his brother’s question. At that moment, Bian Cheng realized he had become the kind of parent he despised the most—the kind who talked about studying during meals.
“I won’t talk about math anymore,” He never thought he would make such a promise to someone in his life.
He realized that he had underestimated the gravity of raising Jiang Yu. This journey was going to be much longer and harder than he had imagined.
After finishing the rather gloomy dinner, they walked back to the hospital. Upon returning to the ward, Jiang Yunrou’s complexion looked even worse than it had during the day. Under the harsh fluorescent light, her appearance was ghastly, like white bones thinly wrapped in skin. However, when she saw Jiang Yu, she managed a smile. “What did you have for dinner?”
“Noodles,” Jiang Yu replied in his cheerful voice, emphasizing, “I paid for it.”
“That’s great.”
Jiang Yu beamed with a radiant smile, and in the white light overshadowed by illness, his grin shone like the sun—so bright it was hard to associate it with hardship.
He walked over, handed the remaining change to his mother, then picked up the water kettle and shook it. There was still water in it, but it had been a long time since the last time he poured water in it, so it might have gone cold. “I’ll go fetch some water,” he said, and walked out with the kettle.
Jiang Yunrou watched him leave, the smile on her face fading. She sighed and looked up at his future guardian. “Did he pay the right amount this time?”
Bian Cheng shook his head and then said, “I really admire you.”
Jiang Yunrou forced a smile and turned to look out the window. “If I had any other choice, why would I entrust him to someone else?”
Bian Cheng, being very tall, stood out conspicuously as he stood by the hospital bed. He sat down on a chair and abruptly said, “The orbit of asteroid 2009JF1 passes very close to Earth.”
Jiang Yunrou’s smile turned into confusion.
“Betelgeuse, also known as Alpha Orionis, is a red supergiant star that will one day explode into a supernova. The intense radiation it emits could render the entire solar system lifeless,” Bian Cheng said. “V616 Monocerotis is the closest black hole to Earth, about 3,000 light-years away. While it’s far from us now, black holes can move and might swallow Earth someday. Besides, there’s also the possibility of a full-scale nuclear war in the future.”
Jiang Yunrou said, “Don’t tell Jiang Yu about these complicated things.”
“So,” Bian Cheng said, “maybe you’re not the only one who will disappear. The trees outside the window, the sky, the skyscrapers, they might all go with you. Perhaps after you’re gone, all of humanity, the entire world, might be destroyed.”
Jiang Yunrou looked at him in surprise, then started coughing violently, as though his words had choked her windpipe. After a while, she managed to calm down, looked at Bian Cheng, and said, “Do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Help me hold his hand,” Jiang Yunruo said, “I believe you can do it.”
Bian Cheng didn’t understand what she meant, but he nodded and promised. Very seriously.
