My Umbrella Came to Life and Now Tells Me to Break Up Every Day - Chapter 14

Chapter 14

On the anniversary of Shen Tingyu’s death, the rain came down in sheets.

I took the day off and went to the old river channel with an umbrella.

It had long since been turned into a scenic park.

The drainage ditch from back then had been sealed off, and a row of camphor trees had been planted beside it.

If my mom hadn’t sent me the old address, I never would have recognized the place.

The old woman who repaired umbrellas was already waiting for me there.

She had brought an old wooden box.

Inside were needle and thread, copper sheets, and a short new length of umbrella rib.

She said, “Have you made up your mind?”

I looked at Shen Tingyu.

Rain kept rolling down the canopy.

His voice was very calm. “I have.”

I asked, “Do you want to leave?”

He said, “I want to try not being trapped first.”

My throat tightened.

“What if you scatter?”

“That’s still better than going on forgetting.”

His words were soft, but unwavering.

All at once, I realized Shen Tingyu had been teaching me the same thing all along.

Don’t trap yourself in a bad relationship just because you’re afraid of losing something.

That applied to Chen Shu.

It applied to me and him, too.

I couldn’t cling to him so hard that I hoped he would go on being an umbrella.

Even if he was an umbrella that was very good at cursing people out.

The old woman began unwinding the copper wire.

When the first loop came loose, the canopy shuddered violently.

The sound of rain suddenly seemed very far away.

When the second loop came loose, that rainy night flashed before my eyes again.

Five-year-old me, swept away by the water.

A teenage Shen Tingyu jumping in, grabbing me by the collar, shoving me toward the bank.

The Black Umbrella in his hand being torn apart by the current.

In the final moment, he stuffed the Copper Coin back into my palm.

“Don’t be afraid.”

The third loop of copper wire snapped.

The Black Umbrella slipped from my hand.

I lunged to catch it, but all I caught was a gust of wet, cold wind.

In the curtain of rain, the canopy slowly came apart.

Like ink dissolving into water.

But the ribs did not sink.

Cradled by the rain, they drifted slowly to the bank, as if someone had finally taken off an old, worn-out piece of clothing.

My voice shook. “Shen Tingyu!”

There was no answer.

The old woman murmured something under her breath.

I couldn’t make it out.

All I knew was that in that instant, my heart felt unbearably empty.

As if the thing that had shielded me from the rain for the past ten years had finally been taken away.

I crouched in the rain, tears sliding down with the rainwater.

“Liar.”

“You said you’d stay with me.”

“You still haven’t slept in a bed.”

The second those words left my mouth, even I froze.

Behind me came a very soft cough.

“Isn’t now a little inappropriate for that?”

I went rigid.

Slowly, I turned around.

A person stood in the rain.

White shirt, black pants, clean brows and eyes, hair soaked through, face a little pale.

In his hand, he carried that old Black Umbrella.

Its ribs were whole, its canopy half-open.

He looked at me, the faintest smile in his eyes.

He looked a lot like the boy from the newspaper clipping.

Only a little more grown up.

I opened my mouth, but for a long time, no words came out.

Shen Tingyu walked over and held the umbrella above my head.

“Liang Xia.”

“Mm?”

“Your eyeliner’s running again.”

I threw my arms around him.

His whole body went stiff for a second.

Then, very slowly and carefully, he raised his hand and rested it on my back.

“Don’t cry,” he said.

“This time, I really know how to comfort you.”