The clear sound of a heartbeat, pounding openly, without any concealment.
The vivid red was reflected in the depths of his eyes. The heart that had been tangled and uneasy just moments ago seemed to instantly unfurl. Chen Annan held the little booklet in his palm, examining it carefully, a sweet smile spreading across his face. “Ha, this is just something to fool kids with.”
Lu Qingyuan said nonchalantly, “As long as it can make the kid happy.”
Chen Annan was genuinely happy now. Why did his brother always understand him so well? Understood everything about him. Understood how to carefully cradle and cherish his contradictory, sensitive, glass-like heart.
Chen Annan examined the booklet over and over in his palm, carefully opening it, then lifting it up to look at it against the scenery outside the window.
The water streaks on the glass windowpane held a sense of dampness, condensing into droplets, turning the world upside down, before being swept away by a gust of wind.
The dry, chilly wind washed over the greater part of the city. Withered sycamore leaves were swept into tiny whirlwinds, spiraling forward. The zebra crossings on the asphalt road were coated in a layer of fresh white amidst the bustle of people.
No one knew when autumn had left this year. The old sycamore at the intersection seemed to have wilted silently overnight, its bare branches starkly jabbing at the pale blue sky.
The test papers crammed inside the desk piled up layer by layer. The textbooks pressed on the desktop, building into a small mountain.
Chen Annan’s vocal music mock exam score was decent. However, his cultural subject grades were poor and difficult to salvage. Now, he could only compensate by maximizing his music score. So every day, he treated each training session with the utmost seriousness.
He had to get into Beijing together with his brother. Definitely!
When Chen Annan pulled his hands from the piano keys, his knuckles were already stiff. He rubbed his fingers to get the blood flowing and neatly arranged the sheet music.
He had practiced the music until it was utterly ingrained in him. He could play the notes with his eyes closed. Mendelssohn’s Songs Without Words seemed to generate wind under his fingertips. Give him a single phrase, and he could immediately play it all the way through, distinguishing every scale quickly and accurately.
Whenever Xiao Qingxiang had free time, she would also guide him via video call and talk to him about the art exam. For art students, as long as their art score was high, their other grades didn’t need to be stellar—just passable was enough. She told him not to be too nervous.
The tail end of 2011 was pieced together in a blur.
The flu hit fiercely that year. Waking up in the morning, Chen Annan felt something wrong with his throat—a prickly pain, as if scraping against flesh. He hurriedly made himself a packet of cold medicine. The delicate darling paid extra attention to keeping warm in winter; otherwise, a cold or cough would affect his voice.
Seeing Lu Qingyuan emerge from his room, Chen Annan immediately complained, “Brother, I don’t feel well.”
“What’s wrong?” Lu Qingyuan asked.
“I don’t know. My throat hurt when I woke up. It’s really uncomfortable.” As Chen Annan spoke, his voice was indeed a bit hoarse. Even at such a close distance, his enunciation was unclear, the tail end of his words swallowed up, sounding very pitiful.
“Let me see,” Lu Qingyuan walked over.
Chen Annan tilted his head back and obediently opened his mouth. “Ah—”
Lu Qingyuan looked carefully at the light, finally saying, “It is a little red. I’ll make you some honeysuckle infusion to take to school. Maybe we went on a bit too long yesterday. I’ll be more mindful next time.”
Chen Annan didn’t react for a moment. He froze for two seconds. Then, realizing what the other was referring to, his ears instantly flushed red. He clamped a hand over Lu Qingyuan’s mouth, reprimanding him frantically and bashfully, “Little Lu, have you no shame! Uncle is going to come out any minute!”
The door behind them was indeed pushed open. Lu Wenyuan’s yawning voice preceded him out.
Lu Qingyuan, however, seized his palm, nipping at his fingertip teasingly. Chen Annan yelped in fright, quickly yanking his hand back and fleeing, muttering non-stop under his breath, “Crazy, crazy, Little Lu has gone crazy…”
The “crazy” Lu Qingyuan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a hint of mischievous amusement flickering in his eyes.
In the blink of an eye, the days arrived at New Year’s Day of 2012.
Festivals were a good excuse for reunion. On New Year’s Day, Xiao Qingxiang, having just finished her performance tour in Florence, rushed back to spend the first day of 2012 with them.
There was nothing happier than family reunion. Chen Annan felt this was sure to be a blessed year.
It was also on the eve of the 2012 New Year that Lu Wenyuan made a big decision.
He packed his luggage, drove the car, and took the two children to the countryside to celebrate the New Year.
This was the first time they had returned to the countryside for the New Year since the period of Chen Annan’s parents’ passing.
When Chen Annan was small, fearing he would be sad, Lu Wenyuan had almost never brought him back here. Later, when Chen Annan was a bit older, Lu Wenyuan brought him back a few times, but they never stayed longer than a couple of days before leaving.
The countryside had changed rapidly over the years. The old dirt roads had mostly been paved into asphalt roads, new and bright. Only the smaller paths were still packed yellow earth. When the car tires rolled over them, a cloud of yellowish dust kicked up.
“I remember before, this road was so narrow and bumpy. Every time we drove over it, the dust would cover most of the car. It was like we’d crawled out of the mud,” Lu Wenyuan said, turning the steering wheel onto a smaller lane. “Without the GPS, I’d barely recognize it.”
Only his own voice filled the car. In the rearview mirror, the open fields on both sides continuously receded, stretching on as if without end, framing a rolling red sun.
Chen Annan’s face was turned toward the car window, staring out in a daze. In this posture, Lu Qingyuan could only see the round swirl of his hair. He reached out and touched it. Feeling the warmth, Chen Annan turned back and smiled at him.
They hadn’t been back for a long time. Lu Wenyuan took them to stay at Auntie’s house.
Auntie’s house was behind the Old House, the most common kind of self-built two-story rural home, with a small yard enclosed by a wattle fence. A persimmon tree was planted in the yard.
The wheels crunched over small pebbles as the car slowly came to a halt. Fluffy Dog, catching the scent, dashed out from the house to greet them, barking “Woof! Woof!” from far away.
Chen Annan bribed it into immediate surrender with a single ham sausage. Shamelessly, Cotton Candy went over to sniff the other dog’s rear. The two dogs circled and sniffed each other for a while, then merrily scampered off together.
Auntie was very happy they came back. Seeing Chen Annan, she smiled so wide she couldn’t close her mouth. She wiped her hands on her apron, then took a box of peanut milk from a crate for him. “Good gracious, you’ve grown so big! Still such a handsome boy, just like when you were little! So handsome.”
Chen Annan smiled bashfully and made some small talk with Auntie for a while.
Auntie had always pitied Chen Annan. Back then, Chen Annan was very young. Every time his mother went out, he would move a little stool and sit at the front door, obediently waiting for his mom to come home. If his mom didn’t come home, he would just keep sitting there, not talking, not moving, waiting until dark before trudging back inside step by step, like a lonely, pitiful little puppy.
Feeling sorry for the mother and son, Auntie often found ways to send things over. Sometimes freshly picked persimmons from the yard, washed clean with well water. Sometimes an extra large yellow croaker Uncle had bought, saying their small family couldn’t finish it all.
“Are you staying a few more days this time? Whatever you want to eat, Auntie will make it for you.”
“Thank you, Auntie. Auntie is the best,” Chen Annan said. He was a pleasant, likable child; his words were always sweet.
These years, aside from farming, Auntie’s family also cultivated flowers and plants inside greenhouses. She said it was currently fashionable among city folk, that suppliers would come specifically to buy them, though none were rare, precious varieties.
Lu Wenyuan, a man of fashion himself, expressed keen interest and immediately said they’d go take a look after dinner.
Auntie led them up to the second floor to stay. She said there were rarely guests at home, and all the children had gone to the city for work and wouldn’t be back this year. So she’d cleared out the rooms for them to stay in first.
The noon sun was warm. Both rooms faced south, making them cozy even in winter. The layout was simple, cleaned neatly and efficiently. On each door was still pasted a gaudy New Year’s painting of the Gold Boy and Jade Girl; the gold lettering on the couplets had already faded.
Lu Wenyuan only had his own belongings to unpack, and he tidied up swiftly. His things were few to begin with, so there wasn’t much to organize. Once done, he went downstairs to see if he could help with anything.
In contrast, Chen Annan and Lu Qingyuan had a mountain of stuff—small suitcases packed to the brim.
Lu Qingyuan took out both their daily necessities and arranged them, then placed Chen Annan’s tattered Snoopy doll at the head of the bed.
Ever since he was a child, whenever this kid went on a trip, he would bring his Snoopy. This doll was a gift Lu Wenyuan had bought him way back. Several of its seams had burst open, covered all over with hand-stitched mends. It had been washed so many times it was faded white.
Chen Annan sat on the edge of the bed, propping himself up with both hands on the mattress, his legs swinging slightly, just like when he was little.
Warm sunlight fell on his eyelids. The view from the second-floor window was good. From here, he could see his uncle helping to feed the chickens in the small courtyard. The chickens bobbed their heads as they strutted around. While scattering millet, Lu Wenyuan clicked his tongue, making a “cluck cluck” sound.
Dried salted vegetables were spread out to dry in the yard, clumped in piles on the ground, to be gathered later. Served with meals, they would be fragrant and crunchy.
Under the eaves of the old-style kitchen built with felt mats hung a string of cured sausages, sun-dried to the point of looking like shriveled eggplants. Auntie snipped one down to use for cooking.
The first meal in the countryside was kept simple. By the time they arrived, it was already past lunchtime, so a bigger feast would have to wait until evening.
Auntie cooked them Braised Noodles, chopping in some cured sausage and drizzling sesame oil on top. She also steamed a large bowl of egg custard, using the earthen stove. The moment the lid was lifted, clouds of steam billowed up. That bowl of egg custard was so tender it seemed like it could be scooped up like water.
Lu Wenyuan was still thinking about the flowers in the greenhouse. Right after eating, he asked the two kids if they wanted to go with him.
Chen Annan was about to dash off when Lu Qingyuan dragged him back. He wrapped a scarf around Chen Annan’s neck, bundling him up tightly and securely, then put his gloves on for him too. “Don’t catch a cold.”
Chen Annan was wrapped up like a ball. Lu Wenyuan watched from the side and chuckled merrily. “Oh my, so considerate. If he ever got a partner, it’d be something else entirely.”
Lu Qingyuan said nothing. But Chen Annan’s heart clenched in fright at those words. Immediately acting like a thief with a guilty conscience, he let go of Lu Qingyuan’s hand and pushed his uncle forward. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”
The flower greenhouse was set up on their own farmland, temperature-controlled, with high humidity inside. Spiderwebs had gathered above the doorway. Lu Qingyuan picked up a small stick, cleared away the webs, and then let Chen Annan enter.
Auntie was truly hospitable. During the entire walk there, she chatted endlessly with Lu Wenyuan, even saying that if any particular plant caught his eye, he could dig it up and take it home.
Lu Wenyuan smiled and declined, saying there was no need; he already had a house full of flowers. It would be a shame if he brought these back only to kill them. He cherished flowers dearly.
Rubbing her hands on her sleeve protectors, Auntie said, slightly embarrassed, that the flowers in the greenhouse had been having some minor issues lately. Since Lu Wenyuan also grew flowers, could he perhaps take a look and help? Lu Wenyuan readily agreed.
The greenhouse raised mostly Four Seasons Begonias and Chinese roses—plants that could be sold year-round. They had a contract; suppliers came quarterly to collect the stock. It had all been fine before, but recently, for some unknown reason, the flowers were all a bit wilted. She was worried the suppliers wouldn’t take them.
While Lu Wenyuan and Auntie examined the flowers over there, Chen Annan squatted down on the other end. He leaned in for a sniff and asked, puzzled, “Why don’t these flowers have any scent?”
“Four Seasons Begonias naturally have no fragrance,” Lu Qingyuan said, squatting down beside him.
“Oh, then I still like fragrant flowers,” Chen Annan said. “Gardenias smell really good.”
“The begonias are very beautiful.” Lu Qingyuan picked a tiny piece of fluff from beside Chen Annan’s face.
The flowers in this greenhouse were indeed somewhat wilted. Some had even already collapsed. Chen Annan tried to prop a flower up with his hand, but it still drooped, its stem bending downwards. Chen Annan sighed, feeling it was a pity. He feared the supplier would refuse the flowers, causing Auntie to take a loss on the harvest.
Lu Wenyuan ended up spending the entire afternoon absorbed in the flower greenhouse. Later, when Chen Annan and Lu Qingyuan went back, he was still there, helping to diagnose the cause.
Winter days grew dark early. By the time they finished dinner, only a faint remnant of blue remained on the horizon.
The tungsten filament bulb under the eaves, yellowed with age and coated in a layer of dust, cast its light in a hazy, foggy glow—a heavy, burnt yellow.
Having been away for so long, Chen Annan still felt a slight sense of detachment toward everything here. In the dim, yellow light, he hummed a little tune while playing with Cotton Candy. His voice was truly wonderful, and coupled with years of professional training, its ethereal quality carried strong penetrating power.
Hearing he studied music, Uncle asked cheerfully if he could sing opera, perhaps a bit of Yellow Plum Opera for them to hear.
Auntie quickly cut in: he’s into singing, not opera. Singing—the kind where you sing, “My name is Xiao Shenyang, my stage name is also Xiao Shenyang. Shen is the Shen of Shenyang, Yang is the Yang of Shenyang…”
Hearing this, Lu Wenyuan, holding his tea bowl, picked up the tune and sang along: “My name is Chen Annan, my stage name is also Chen Annan. Chen is the Chen of Chen Annan, An is the An of Chen Annan…”
Auntie and Uncle were both tickled into roaring laughter, their double chins appearing. Chen Annan was mortified. His face instantly flushed red. He jumped up and chased after his uncle. “Ahhh, don’t sing it, don’t sing it! Stop singing!” His face was completely gone!!
Ignoring him, Lu Wenyuan ran while singing, humiliating the kid to the point of utter embarrassment.
Chen Annan caught up to him, only to be clamped around the neck by Lu Wenyuan, trapped under his armpit, unable to move. He yelled, “Little Lu, save me!”
Lu Wenyuan deliberately raised his voice: “Cub! Your fate is in my hands now! Calling for your brother won’t save you! So right now, you should hurry up and say: Uncle, I was wrong~ Quick now! If you don’t, I’m tossing you out.”
Sitting by the window on the second floor, Lu Qingyuan turned his face to look downstairs and couldn’t help but laugh softly. The hem of his half-draped coat was covered in dirt and debris, yet he didn’t mind at all. He simply gazed calmly and gently at the scene before him.
Then, he lowered his head and began to sketch something on the paper.
Lu Qingyuan had never formally studied anything art-related, nor did he usually draw. This was just a casual doodle with a ballpoint pen, the strokes digging deep into the paper.
The drawing was of a little rabbit. Two tufts of fur stuck up on its head. Its eyes were round, and its rabbit ears drooped down sadly, looking utterly pitiful. Beside it was a plump, white little dog.
The dog was barking up at the persimmon tree, and beneath the tree stood a big gray wolf—pointed ears, its eyes curved in a sly smile.
Beside them was a line of tiny text:
The little rabbit said: Brother, save me!
The big gray wolf said: Calling for brother won’t help, heh heh.
Lu Qingyuan added a few more strokes. Soon, a new figure appeared on the page: a little rabbit wearing glasses and a cape, clad in Superman’s triangular briefs with a big “S” on them, flying down from the upper right corner.
