Chapter 11

Those sweet, sticky days are like a layer of warm honey, wrapping around us.

Morning.

The sunlight is still lovely, streaming through the kitchen window and falling on Xu Qing as he prepares breakfast, gilding him with a soft, golden fuzz.

He’s trying to flip the fried egg perfectly.

I watch his profile, my heart melting into a puddle, unable to resist walking over to hug him from behind.

Just as I reach him, a wave of metallic sweetness surges up my throat, impossible to suppress.

I instinctively cover my mouth and start coughing violently.

Xu Qing immediately puts down the spatula and turns around. “What’s wrong?”

I wave my hand, wanting to say I’m fine, but when I open my palm, that glaring red freezes my smile in place.

He sees it too.

Time seems to stop in that moment.

The egg in the pan sizzles and burns.

Xu Qing’s expression freezes instantly, his eyes blank with shock and a rapidly spreading panic.

He almost stumbles as he rushes over, grabbing my wrist with frightening strength, his eyes locked on the blood in my palm.

“Mu Nanxing, what’s going on?!”

His voice is so dry it sounds like sandpaper scraping wood.

Looking at his suddenly pale face, I can hardly breathe.

So, it’s come to this day after all.

I tug at the corners of my mouth, trying to look nonchalant. “It’s nothing!”

I try to make my voice sound light, even a bit joking. “Maybe I’m just a little overheated?”

Xu Qing doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me, as if trying to peel away all my disguises.

Suddenly, something occurs to him, and his voice trembles. “You’ve been getting tired so easily, looking pale, and every time I asked, you said it was nothing…”

His breathing grows rapid, his grip on my hand tightening.

“What exactly… have you been hiding from me?”

I know I can’t hide it anymore.

Maybe that’s for the best.

He’d have to know sooner or later anyway.

I take a deep breath, avoiding his burning gaze, looking instead at the dazzling sunlight outside the window.

When I finally say the diagnosis, I feel the hand gripping my wrist tremble violently.

The air is dead silent.

The smell of burning grows stronger.

After the shock and panic reach their peak, he falls into a terrifying silence.

He lets go of my wrist, steps back a little, turning his back to me, his shoulders drawn tight as if holding back some emotion on the verge of exploding.

A long time passes-long enough for the egg to have turned completely to charcoal.

At last, he turns around, painfully slowly. His eyes are red, his voice hoarse but piercingly clear: “How… much time is left?”

I meet his gaze, trying to smile, but fail.

“The doctor said… about a month, I think.”

I pause, then add, “If I’m lucky.”

I say it lightly, as if talking about someone else.

Xu Qing just nods gently after hearing this.

Then, without warning, tears spill from his reddened eyes.

He doesn’t wail or break down.

He just stands there quietly, letting the tears slide silently down his cheeks.

One drop after another, falling onto the cold tiles.

My heart aches as if it’s being torn apart.

I step forward, gently cup his face, and kiss away his tears one by one.

The salty taste spreads between my lips and teeth.

He doesn’t move, just lowers his eyes to look at me, letting me do as I wish, more tears welling up.

“Don’t cry…”

I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

“Xu Qing, don’t cry. When you cry, my heart hurts so much.”

At last, he reaches out and pulls me tightly, tightly into his arms.

He holds me so hard it’s as if he wants to press me into his bones and blood, never to be parted.

We stand there quietly in the kitchen, filled with the smell of burning.

Bathed in the dazzling, almost blinding sunlight, we hold each other tight.