Old Wounds, New Growth - Chapter 1

Translator: Deyonna

---

When the news of Li Chishu jumping off the building came, I was working overtime in the office building.

At half past ten in the evening, the entire building was as quiet as an old, dark log, with only my little office carving out a small gap with light.

Luo Ke called, her voice trembling like a sieve, making me suspect that the city’s cables had been cut one by one in just half a minute, causing her words to bounce around. "Shen Baoshan... Li Chishu jumped off the building."

The small gap was still a bright gap, but I, the carver, was already driving recklessly on the way to the First City Hospital without even blinking my eyes - joking aside, life is precious, no one understands this better than me at the moment.

But in the end, I still ran two red lights at a deserted intersection.

When I got to the hospital, Li Chishu was still in critical condition. Luo Ke asked me to sit down, but I was stiff all over, numb to the point where my brain didn't recognize my limbs. My ears could hear Luo Ke's words, but my fingers refused to move at all.

"Sixth floor... they don't know how he climbed up there... when he fell, they said he hit something that cushioned the fall... when he was brought here, he was already unconscious…"

I forgot how long I had waited outside the ICU that night, and I forgot what color the light under the sign changed from and to. I even forgot what Li Chishu's facial features looked like when he was wheeled out—actually, no, I never saw them, as his entire head was completely wrapped up.

I only remembered seeing many sunrises and sunsets in front of his hospital bed. During those blurry almost blank days, I sometimes wondered if anyone had turned off the lights in the office building. After a few seconds, as I looked at Li Chishu lying on the hospital bed, I thought, to hell with it, I don't care if they turned it off or not, I am rich, even if the sun is turned off, just don't turn off Li Chishu's oxygen mask.       

Even if the King of Hell comes, it can't be turned off.  

However, in the end, it wasn't the King of Hell who turned it off. It was Li Chishu himself who pulled it off.

It really left me speechless.              

Li Chishu didn't want to live anymore, and this wasn't the first time.           

He had taken pills, slit his wrists, and even tried to strangle himself on a doorknob. His crimes were too numerous to record, and if I had installed one less surveillance camera, this bastard would have succeeded.           

This time, he was smart, jumping off the rooftop. Hell, who can install surveillance cameras in the sky?

Damn it.              

One day, I'll ask those who build aircraft carriers if they can take one up for me. It wasn't something I needed before, but it will definitely be useful after he’s dead.

Forget it. Even if I had that ability, could I really change Li Chishu's current ghostly appearance?              

Speaking of which, there was one night when Li Chishu woke up. But now I'm not sure if it was just my dream or if he really woke up.

I remember his eyelashes moved first.             

Li Chishu's eyelashes are very striking, thick, and long, and his eyes are so beautiful, like a Barbie doll. When he was shy before, the slight lowering of his head would cover his eyes with his eyelashes. I couldn't see his expression, so I had to lower my head to look every time, and when I looked, he would hide. It wasn't until his ears turned red that I realized, oh, this man is embarrassed again.              

In my life, I've always been late to realize things about Li Chishu.

I was late to realize that he had liked me alone for many years, late to realize that he was sick, late to realize that he was taking medication, late to realize that his illness was very serious, and late to realize that he had wanted to die for a long time.     

Many popular versions in folk culture describe the disease he had. Some refer to it as the disease of the rich, while others call it the disease of idleness, but some may call it the disease of art. What this means is that most of those who suffer from this disease are artists.

Yes, yes, yes, that's the one. Its scientific name is depression.

This is not about my family's Li Chishu trying to scam. I need to clarify that. This disease is indeed in trend. But he's not someone who loves to follow trends. He can wear a plain white T-shirt for three years without knowing what it means to be out of fashion.

He just got it, and he also doesn't know how he got it.              

One day he was sitting on the sofa at home waiting for me to come back, looking at the fruit knife on the table, and suddenly wanted to do something to himself.              

He told me this the third time I found out he wanted to commit suicide.

I already went off-topic.

What was the situation when Li Chishu woke up that night? I'm very clear about it.              

That short minute is the clearest part of my blurred memory for such a long time. I can even count how many times he exhaled and inhaled through the oxygen mask on his face.

So I think it's not a dream if I remembered it so clearly up to this point.

He was quite hesitant when he opened his eyes, his eyelashes trembled a few times before he opened them. As soon as he opened them, he saw me staring at him.

He didn't seem surprised, he just used the same look and smile he had given me countless times before to deal with me, plain and dull, with a smile that wasn't really a smile.

He looked and smiled at me like this when I was babbling in his ear. He looked and smiled at me like this when I was hiding flowers to give to him on my back. He looked and smiled at me like this when I secretly tattooed his name on my arm. He looked and smiled at me like this when I found out he was secretly taking medication.

Now that we had to say goodbye, he still looked and smiled at me like this.             

This is how he smiled: his eyelashes would flutter first, followed by his eyes crinkling up at the corners. Then, the corner of his mouth would lift slightly, revealing a glimpse of his smile beneath the gauze. His eyes were moist and full of liveliness.

That smile seems to say, "Okay, Shen Baoshan, don't be angry anymore. Since this is our last meeting, don't always give me a sour face.

As soon as he smiled, I looked up at the ceiling.

Tears were rolling down my cheeks like raindrops.

The doctor said his internal organs were damaged, and there was no hope of recovery. He only has a few days left.

I lowered my eyes and looked back, and Li Chishu smiled even more flatteringly.

He probably smiled for a while, so when my expression wasn't as terrible anymore, I saw him speak a few words.

In fact, Li Chishu had lost the ability to speak a long time ago, and even if he could speak, I wouldn't be able to hear him. However, I understood some lip reading.

I don't remember when I started learning lip reading. Maybe it was around the time of his second suicide attempt. One day, I inexplicably searched for courses online.

From the first time, I searched for information, looked for online courses, did my homework, and picked the best-reviewed class to prepare to pay for. It was like waking up from a deep dream, closing the web page in panic. In the end, I carefully selected the course and studied it meticulously for just a few days.

At that time, I had no idea why I wanted to learn lip reading. Later, I thought it was probably driven by a nerve in my body that loved Li Chishu more than my brain was aware of.

That nerve may have been transplanted quietly into my body by Li Chishu some years in the past, and it was even more aware than Shen Baoshan himself that Li Chishu would have such a day.

He said, "Shen Baoshan, let's go home."

It sounds romantic, like he's asking me to take him home.

So that's why Li Chishu loved me. It was because I was the only one who could understand his words.

He wasn't asking me to take him home. He wanted me to go home by myself.

I tilted my head and looked at him.

He still smiled at me with a shy and flattering smile.

Even though his head was about to split, how could he still manage to smile?

That was the last time I scolded him in my life.

That night was the first time I went home after his accident.

I sat on the floor in the living room, doing nothing. Outside the window was the gardenia he planted last month. June was almost over, and the gardenia flowers started to wilt.

I fell asleep in a daze at dawn. It was strange because I used to be able to stay up all night watching over Li Chishu, but tonight I fell asleep.

Later that night, I had a dream where I heard a faint knocking on the door. 

It was the knocking sound that only Li Chishu would make, slow and deliberate, three knocks, a pause, and then three more knocks.

I suddenly woke up from the dream. The lights in the living room were still on. I stared intently at the door, but I didn't hear any knocking.

I turned my head and saw that a gardenia flower had fallen onto the windowsill.

I looked at the gardenia in silence for a long time and said, Li Chishu, I won't send you off anymore.

---

       Table Of Contents       Next