Chapter 13

On the other side of the letter, time had already reached May. My memories of Chen Yabai at seventeen were fading away bit by bit. Even Ah Hua, who had long since passed away, left no trace of ever living by my side.

At thirty, I had a dream. I dreamed of that great fire when I was seventeen, which happened on June 5, 2017.

Chen Yabai finally came to my dream. Fortunately, in the dream, I still looked seventeen, not as dim and weary as I am now.

I didn’t know where the fire started. By the time I woke up choking in the dream, there was no way to escape. The room was engulfed in flames, the air so hot it distorted, and the little cat Ah Hua anxiously nudged me by my side. To this day, I don’t know how Chen Yabai got in; he seemed like a hero who shouldn’t have existed at all.

The building was high, so jumping was impossible. He lifted Ah Hua and me outside the window, while he stood inside the burning room. The firelight illuminated his features from behind. I could smell the stench of burning flesh.

I stood barefoot on a small ledge outside the building. Chen Yabai waited until a firefighter came up with rescue equipment and saw with his own eyes that the firefighter had safely received Ah Hua and me before he finally let go.

I never expected that the first time I dreamed of him would be such a heartbreaking, lifelong memory of parting between life and death.

In the dream, when the firefighter took me in his arms, I didn’t cry out loud as I did in reality. I just quietly looked at him and said, “Chen Yabai, this time you won’t die.”

His features were full of pain, and at last he couldn’t hold on and fell backward.

The last thing I said was, “Chen Yabai, don’t come to save me anymore.” You have to walk to your own future, by yourself.

My future doesn’t have you; it’s all darkness. But if your future doesn’t have me, then it will truly be wide and open.

From the moment I was born, I was called a little jinx. My mother lost her job because of her pregnancy and never managed to revive her career. My father started getting sick that year, one illness after another. I was the source of all their misfortunes.

Waking up from the nightmare of the fire, I was drenched in sweat. I fumbled to turn on the lamp and looked at the letter paper. Every moment, my memories were being updated. This time, it truly was a dark May that belonged to me alone.

That night of suffering, I didn’t call him. I walked alone in the darkness, supporting myself against the wall. No one had my back anymore. My mother felt a little guilty, but not much. She had rushed back in a hurry and secretly arranged for my transfer to another school, preparing to leave in June.

But I’m not someone who just swallows my grievances. First, I stabbed Lin Sui; then I exposed what he had done to his school. I knew Lin Sui’s greatest pride was his school. If I was in pain, then he should feel pain too. But because of all the persuasion from every side, and because I had no support, this was all I could do, all I dared to do.

This matter passed quietly in our town. My uncle and aunt kept it tightly under wraps. In the eyes of my classmates, I had only taken sick leave for half a month.

Looking again at this letter paper that connects me to my seventeen-year-old self, I’m glad that this time I didn’t drag Chen Yabai down with me. I still can’t forget how, after Chen Yabai beat Lin Sui half to death, his mother asked him through tears, “Yabai, you want to be a policeman. How can you leave a record of fighting like a thug?”

I had no right to speak for him, so I could only cry into my hands around the corner.

Fortunately, I changed the course of things this time. I was enough on my own. On the letter paper, Chen Yabai spoke less and less. One afternoon, he scribbled, “Why did Miss Little Yuan take half a month off? I just realized she hasn’t been here for a long time.”

I held back my tears for a long time before I replied lightly, “Her cousin in the neighboring city got married, and she had to be a bridesmaid, so she went over to help with the wedding preparations.”

Chen Yabai was silent for a while, then casually wrote, “A wedding, huh.”

And that was the end of the conversation. I don’t know if Chen Yabai remembers that our conversations began with him asking whether his future self would marry Miss Little Yuan, and now, his concern for her has finally faded. Seventeen-year-old Chen Yabai only needs a little guidance to return to his own path.