Zhou Zhuoyuan was in high spirits today. He tilted his head back to look at Zhou Zhuoli and teased, “Did someone rob you on the road?”
Zhou Zhuoli said nothing in response. His hand shook faintly as he served the dishes, producing a soft scrape when he set them down on the table.
Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t particularly care whether he replied. Considerately, he kept quiet, letting his brother stew in his melancholy alone.
Pei He passed out the chopsticks. He helped himself to the Zhou Family’s meals with remarkable ease, sometimes even taking the initiative to order dishes. Whenever he picked something Zhou Zhuoyuan liked, he’d seek praise from him. Zhou Zhuoyuan couldn’t show much affection in public, but once they were back at the dorm, he’d sneak into the bathroom to reward Pei He with a kiss.
Just as Zhou Zhuoyuan assumed their brief exchange was over and reached for some food, Zhou Zhuoli finally offered a delayed reply.
“No, no one robbed me.”
They hadn’t spoken in a very long time—so long that Zhou Zhuoli had nearly forgotten how to converse normally with his little brother. The words he managed to squeeze out sounded terribly awkward, impossible to build on.
His little brother was dead, killed by his own hand. If he hadn’t blocked their efforts at every turn, Zhu Wan and Zhou Fuxuan would have found Zhou Zhuoyuan in no time and brought him home. He never would have died so young in that frigid Northern Small City.
Zhou Zhuoyuan sipped the soup Pei He had ladled for him, a wave of warmth spreading through his body. He glanced at Zhou Zhuoli, who still looked utterly lost, and offered some heartfelt advice drawn from his own hard-won experience. “I don’t know what happened, but every problem has a solution eventually. Try to stay optimistic.”
Zhou Zhuoli forced a smile. “You’re right.”
His phone rang—it was the renovation company calling. The birthday gift he’d given Zhou Zhuoyuan was a villa in the heart of the city. Zhou Zhuoyuan had smiled when he accepted it, thanking him twice, but Zhou Zhuoli had always sensed it wasn’t genuine joy.
Now he understood: his instincts had been spot on. Zhou Zhuoyuan really had been putting on a brave face that day.
The problem couldn’t be solved.
Zhou Zhuoyuan would never forgive him.
His little brother was gone, and he didn’t even have the chance to beg for absolution. That frail, frozen body—Lin Boxu had shielded most of it alone. Zhou Zhuoli lingered behind, unworthy to approach, forbidden from doing so.
What had he done? How could he have abandoned his own flesh and blood for five whole years without a second thought? How could he have had the heart to thwart their parents’ search for their child?
At his age, Zhou Zhuoyuan should have been in university, fretting over whether to pursue a doctorate, strike out on his own, or join a company. Instead, Zhou Zhuoli had driven him to scrape by in a factory for five years, utterly alone, mired in poverty and hardship.
Zhou Zhuoli answered the call. He knew the villa was likely destined to be sold off by Zhou Zhuoyuan or left to gather dust forever, but he still spoke earnestly with the renovation company. This was his gift for Zhou Zhuoyuan’s coming of age, infused with feelings that stood a good chance of going unnoticed by the recipient himself.
When he hung up, he realized Zhou Zhuoyuan was staring at him in bewilderment.
Zhou Zhuoli paused, then asked, “What’s wrong?”
Zhou Zhuoyuan hesitated before speaking. “Is it something really tough to fix? Or has Zhou Zhuoyi’s recovery not been going well?”
He lowered his head and poked at the food in his bowl. “I’ve never seen you cry before.”
It was as if Zhou Zhuoli had only just noticed the tears streaming down his face. He clapped a hand over his eyes, his voice cracking with sobs in an instant. “I’m sorry. I’m okay. It’s just… a very important person passed away…”
Zhou Zhuoyuan let out a sigh, reminded of his own reaction upon first hearing the news of He Qinglan’s death. “Have something to eat, then go see him off on his final journey.”
He couldn’t.
Zhou Zhuoli couldn’t bear to send him off. He couldn’t accept it. Zhou Zhuoyuan was so much younger than him, always so robust and healthy. The idea of his death was unbearable—let alone the fact that he himself was to blame.
The day before his little brother’s funeral, he had taken poison in a hotel room.
He knew it was cowardice, a desperate evasion, but he could find no other way to ease the crushing weight of his guilt.
True empathy had never existed before that moment when Zhou Zhuoli pushed open the door and beheld Zhou Zhuoyuan’s corpse. Only then did he comprehend the full extent of the wounds they had inflicted upon him in the past.
They had unleashed all their grief over losing a loved one onto the newly adult Zhou Zhuoyuan, burdening him alone with an ocean of guilt.
For Zhou Zhuoyuan to have endured five years was a testament to extraordinary strength—far greater than his own.
Zhou Zhuoyuan noticed that his words seemed to shatter Zhou Zhuoli even further.
Zhou Zhuoli lowered his hand, his gaze brimming with anguish as he looked at him. “I’m sorry.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan took it as an apology for needing to leave early. “It’s fine. Go on—we’ll handle the cleanup.”
Yet Zhou Zhuoli didn’t move. He reached out as if to touch Zhou Zhuoyuan, only to draw his hand back midway.
Zhou Zhuoli didn’t say a word about telling Pei He to treat Zhou Zhuoyuan well.
He didn’t dare touch him. He didn’t dare reveal the true reason for his apology. He couldn’t say it. He mustn’t say it.
If Zhou Zhuoyuan ever learned that Zhou Zhuoli was the one responsible for leaving him to suffer alone for five whole years in his previous life, there would be no chance of him speaking to Zhou Zhuoli calmly—not even half a sentence.
Lightning flashed outside again, blindingly bright. The thunder that followed had to be deafening. Pei He told Zhou Zhuoyuan to turn his head and dramatically covered his ears.
Zhou Zhuoyuan thought Pei He had lost his mind and wanted to kiss him right there in the cafeteria. He immediately raised a hand to block Pei He’s lips. “No.”
Pei He was speechless. “What are you thinking? So impure. Aren’t you afraid of thunder?”
The thunder rolled past. Pei He lowered his hand—only to have Zhou Zhuoyuan step on his foot. “Bullshit. You’re the one who’s afraid of thunder. I just have a conditioned reflex to sudden loud noises.”
Zhou Zhuoli froze. He knew exactly why. Back then, Zhu Wan and Zhou Fuxuan had been sorting through Zhou Zhuoyuan’s belongings in his rental apartment while Zhou Zhuoli waited outside. That’s when he ran into a young man.
The man explained that their family had been Zhou Zhuoyuan’s neighbors. They’d heard the news of his death and come to pay their respects.
Zhou Zhuoli said nothing. The man offered him a cigarette. When he didn’t take it, the man lit one for himself. The narrow hallway filled with smoke in an instant.
The man didn’t seem to care whether Zhou Zhuoli responded. He squatted down on the floor and went on. Zhou Zhuoyuan had shown up at their door one night with a raging fever not long after moving in. He’d knocked in the middle of the night, asking if they had any fever reducers. His mother had taken one look at the obedient, pitiful child and felt her heart break for him. She’d rushed him inside and nursed him back to health.
The man flicked his ash, his eyes red as he chuckled. “Zhuoyuan had such a sweet face—looked like a good kid. But he was stubborn as hell.”
Zhou Zhuoli agreed, though he showed no sign of it.
The man continued. Once Zhou Zhuoyuan started feeling better, he’d insisted on going back to his own place. And he wouldn’t leave without paying them back. They refused the money at first, but he’d keep slipping bills through the door crack in the dead of night. After a few rounds, they finally gave in.
Once that money was gone, Zhou Zhuoyuan was left nearly broke. He tried a few jobs, but the pay was too low. That was just how the small city worked—low costs, low wages. The man had asked him why he needed so much money. To save up for a wife? Zhou Zhuoyuan had blushed and shaken his head. He didn’t want to hold anyone back right now. He needed to save enough to go back to school.
The man had asked around with his friends and recommended a factory on the outskirts of town. Zhou Zhuoyuan was thrilled. The only downside was the long commute. There weren’t any decent rentals out that way, and the factory dorms were full.
He’d gotten home late that day. An upstairs neighbor had lost everything gambling online and jumped to his death. The body had landed right in front of Zhou Zhuoyuan with a sickening thud. He stood there, frozen, staring at the corpse without moving a muscle.
By the time he got back to his apartment, he was burning up with fever. If the man’s mother hadn’t noticed in time, he might have died quietly in there all alone.
After that, Zhou Zhuoyuan started flinching at loud noises. On stormy days when he came over for dinner, he’d jump at every crack of thunder. The man noticed and bought him a pair of earplugs the next day. Zhou Zhuoyuan was so touched he tried to send money again. Their relationship had been good back then.
Who would have thought he’d die anyway?
The man sank to the floor, tears and snot streaming down his face as he mumbled apologies to the empty air. He’d taken every last bit of Zhou Zhuoyuan’s savings to pay for his own mother’s medical bills—and then had the nerve to resent him for making her work so hard.
What good was “sorry”?
Zhou Zhuoli had looked at him coldly—though the words were as much for himself. “The man’s already dead. What good is ‘sorry’?”
The rain had eased a little.
Pei He pulled his foot back with a hiss of pain.
Zhou Zhuoyuan paused, a pang of guilt hitting him. He hadn’t realized he’d stepped so hard. “Hehe, you okay?”
Pei He kept up the act. “What do you think? Try letting me step on you.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan extended his foot. “Fine, go ahead.”
Pei He glared at him. “Don’t get too full of yourself! You know I could never step on you. Compensate me some other way!”
Zhou Zhuoyuan saw right through his little scheme. He turned away and kept eating, ignoring him.
Pei He leaned in close to his ear. “Five extra minutes of kissing tonight?”
No response. “Okay, three minutes.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan finally nodded. Only then did Pei He settle back down and eat properly.
Zhou Zhuoli watched from across the table. After a moment, he rasped out a question for Pei He. “Are you going to university in the Capital City?”
Pei He slowly set down his chopsticks and met his gaze. “Not sure. Wherever Little Yuan goes, I go.”
Zhou Zhuoli’s throat bobbed. “That’s good,” he said.
Zhou Zhuoyuan wouldn’t have to head to a completely unfamiliar city all by himself. He wouldn’t have to scrape together what little warmth he could from his neighbors’ kindness anymore.
Zhou Zhuoli said nothing urging Pei He to treat Zhou Zhuoyuan well. He had no right to say such words.
