CH 13

The news has caused an uproar among the group.

“How…”

“This disease does spread rapidly, and Mr. Huang is already of old age…”

“He seemed fine last week… This is so sad…”

Though I have not been present for a few sessions and am not yet familiar with the group members, it is still saddening for anyone to have someone who has been so chatty and witty just a couple of weeks ago suddenly pass away.

As far as I can remember, Mr. Huang was a very easy-going elder. He was in his seventies, had grey hair and looked in such good spirits that no one would have believed he was a cancer patient unless he said so.

It is said that he was diagnosed with lung cancer a year ago and the doctors told him to undergo chemotherapy, but he felt that he might not be able to survive at his age, thus he only underwent conservative treatment and then signed himself up for the psychological support group to condition his mind.

“Mr. Huang left a letter for all of us in the support group. Let’s listen to it altogether.” Liao-jie tears open the white envelope she has been holding in her hand, takes out the letter paper inside, and reads it out in front of us.

“Bye, everyone! See you around!”

“See you around!”

Six group members bid farewell to each other and exit the gym only to find that it is raining heavily outside.

I am a bit bummed. I forgot to check the weather forecast when I left home today and I didn’t bring an umbrella.

“L-Laoshi…” A shy voice comes from behind.

I look back and find that it is the shy high school girl.

She seems to be at a loss for words when I look at her directly, and stares at my face for a good three to four seconds before she pulls an umbrella out of her bag as if she just suddenly remembered it.

“You… You don’t have an umbrella with you, do you? I-I can offer mine and take you to your car.”

I look at her umbrella, it is of a girly pink colour.

“Thanks,” I say softly.

It is raining a bit heavily and her umbrella covers me entirely, soaking half of herself in the process just a few steps to the parking space.

Such kindness I dare not take for granted. I then ask her where she lives so that I can give her a lift.

“No need, no need, it is too much of a bother…” The girl hurriedly waves her hand to decline. “I will just take the bus back.”

Five minutes to the bus stop in this weather sounds pretty bad, let alone with her wet clothes. I can see that her hands are red-ish from the cold, and guess that she must be very cold by now.

“Get in, quickly.” I inadvertently put on a bit of sternness that I usually use in class, and with a shudder, the girl does obediently get into the car.

She lives at the other side of the school, in the exact opposite direction from my place.

With only the two of us in the car, it is a bit awkward not to talk, but the girl seems to be introverted and neither am I a talkative person. We only talk a little at first and then we do not interact again.

“Laoshi, do you know what death is like?” We are almost at her place when she suddenly asks.

I open my mouth, but I am unsure how to answer that.

Discussion of ‘death’ is an ever-present theme in philosophy, though it is difficult to characterise its nature.

“Some philosophers believe that the death of the corporeal body is not the true death, but that the true death is the extinction of the will. A man’s body dies, but his will lives on, and so he lives in this world forever. A man who lives, but whose will has long since ceased, and who lives as if he is a walking corpse, is dead even as he lives.”

The girl is quiet for a moment and asks again, “Then Grandpa Huang’s will… is still here?”

“Have you seen the film ‘Coco’?”

“Ah…” She thinks for a moment and then says, “I have.”

I have not actually seen it, but Yu Xixi did. She came to school the next day and retold the entire plot to me, and I even cried when she got to the emotional part, and thought the film was unsurpassable.

“He is still around as long as we remember him.” I say, “You can think of it that way.”

The girl thanks me again as she gets out of the car, still not daring to look at me, but she speaks much more smoothly now, as if she has already mocked it up in her head many times.

“Thank you. I’m going to take the entrance exams next year and I hope to get into the philosophy department at Qingwan and become a student of yours.” She opens the door and props up the umbrella, then suddenly turns back. “Uhm… You can call me Tian’er.”

During our first group session, each member introduced themselves, and I remember that the girl’s surname is Yu.

“Mhn. Be careful, the road is slippery.”

I say goodbye to her and set the navigation home.

It is utterly quiet in the car, and as I drive, my thoughts unconsciously recur to Mr. Huang’s letter. It is no wonder that Yu Tian’er suddenly got sentimental. Having heard a farewell letter like that, one cannot simply remain indifferent to death.

“To all of you my friends, by the time you read this letter, I should have already departed from this world. I, Huang Yinguo, have known you all for a short time, but I have considered myself a friend to you. In the last moments of my life, I would like to give a tip to all those who are feeling unhappy.

Live each day like it is your last. Who knows if you are still here tomorrow, why not make the most of it now? Why not cherish the now? Leave your worries behind for another day.

I used to think that I had lived long enough. At the age of seventy-six, I had seen all the changes in our society, the wonders of the world, my oodles of children and grandchildren, my family in harmony… what regrets could I have? But as I was approaching my end, I realised that I had a lot to let go of. I won’t go into a long speech, so let me conclude this letter with this: you are still young, live well.”

Live well…

These two words sound simple, but doing so is actually a lot harder.

After parking the car, I go into the elevator and press my floor number. Ten seconds or so pass, and with a ‘ding’, the elevator stops and the doors open slowly in opposite directions from each other.

As soon as I exit the elevator, there I see that ‘paper tiger’ slumped at my door.

He is resting against the door, soaked to the skin, and I cannot tell if he is freezing, but his face is very pale, his lips devoid of colour.

How I wish this dog had listened to Mr. Huang’s letter.

His eyes are slightly closed so I wonder if he has fallen asleep already.

“Shang Muxiao,” I call him softly as I approach.

He stirs at the sound and opens his eyes slowly. I wonder if it is because his face is very pale that his eyes appear particularly deep and dark.

“You’re finally back…” He says as he rubs his forehead and tries to wake himself up.

“Why are you here?” My hand suddenly aches for some reason at the sight of him.

He looks up, the back of his head resting against the door, and his voice sounds full of exhaustion.

“I drove all the way over here but on the way, it ended up raining. My sister is not at home, I guess she has gone to see that man again. I have nowhere else to go, please allow me shelter.” His hair is still dripping with rainwater, completely wet all over, and I can say that he is in a terrible state of distress, and whilst we only have a mutual acquaintance at best, he speaks casually to me as if we have been friends for years.

I should drive him away, nothing good ever comes when he is involved. But of course there is no way he will listen to me, not to mention that I cannot enter my home with him blocking the door.

Well, in any case, he is Yang Haiyang’s girlfriend’s brother, and l also count as his teacher, plus he is currently in a bad shape, so allowing him in my home… should not be too much.

“Let’s get inside first.”

Shang Muxiao stands up and moves to the side.

I open the door and enter the apartment, and as I am about to switch on the light, a flash of lightning suddenly dashes outside the window, followed by the rumble of thunder.

“My mother… met her end in rainy weather like this.” Shang Muxiao walks to the window and quietly looks out at the rain. “She sent everyone away and dumped me into the rain. I desperately rapped on the door to get inside but never got any response from her. The rain was so heavy, I was out there, very cold. I couldn’t understand why she never liked me. Then, when my sister returned from school, our driver broke down the door and they found her in her studio. She was wearing a white dress, sleeping so peacefully, it was the calmest and gentlest look I had ever seen on her…”

His tone is calm, but I listen to it with chills.

I remember Yu Xixi saying that Shang Muxiao was only five years old when Shang Lu’s wife died.

No wonder he hates rainy days like that. Any little sad memory of a five-year-old is enough to cast a lifelong shadow, let alone one so tragic.

For a moment, I am at a loss as to how to respond and forget about turning on the light, I just stay fixed in place, staring at his back.

A rich man does not care if an extra penny is missing from his possessions, whereas a poor man losing a penny may be the very cause of his demise.

The look in his eyes makes me uneasy, and this unease is not out of fear or worry… it comes from the literal pain I feel in my heart.

“Why don’t you take a shower first, and I’ll go find out if there’s anything you can wear…” I say, avoiding his gaze and bolting into my bedroom.

I raise my hand and press the area of my heart, and only after a moment, the pain dissipates and the uneasiness wears off.

Why can’t humans hold a little more control over the sovereignty of their corporeal bodies? I let out a silent sigh.

After having a hard time finding a set of pyjamas that Shang Muxiao can probably wear, I return to the living room. I know that he has gone to do what I have told him to do upon hearing the sound of water in the bathroom.

Although my apartment is designed for a person living alone, not that big, it still has two bathrooms. One is in my bedroom, for my exclusive use, with the height of the sink and so on adjusted to the height of my wheelchair, and the other is the one Shang Muxiao is using now, the guest bathroom.

“Open the door, I brought something for you to wear.”

The sound of the water in the shower dips down and eventually ceases altogether. After a while, the bathroom door opens and a stream of hot, humid air escapes from within.

Shang Muxiao, with nothing on, his body dripping with water, takes the clothes from my hands. Just like that, unbothered by my gaze.

“Thanks,” He says softly and closes the door again.

I am left there still in a daze for a moment. Thereafter, I go to fetch an unused quilt from the cupboard and chuck it on the sofa, turn up the air conditioning in the living room and then head into my room.

After washing up, I take a gander at the door of my room. Feeling a little uneasy, I go out to have a look.

Shang Muxiao’s whole being is curled up on the sofa, and his eyes open as soon as I approach.

His hair is not fully blown dry, still a little damp, and his usual cocky demeanour is gone. Right now, he actually looks somewhat like an obedient child.

“Professor Bei,” he extends his hand towards me. “I seem to have a fever.”

I stare at his outstretched hand. I hesitate, but still take hold of it. The temperature is so hot, he really has a fever.

“I’ll go look for some medicine.”

I search through the cupboards and find one antipyretic medicine that has not yet expired. I pour water into a glass and bring it to Shang Muxiao. He sits up, takes the medicine and then the water from my hand, and tilts his head up as he takes a quick swig.

He lies back down, looking so uncomfortable that he seems to not even want to say a word.

I put the glass of water on the coffee table to one side and pick up the quilt that has been dragged to the floor and stuff it on him. It is still raining outside. I turn off the lights in the living room, except for a dim yellow lamp so that the room is not too dark.

I wake up in the middle of the night, use the toilet, and then go to the living room to check on Shang Muxiao.

I measure the temperature of his forehead with the palm of my hand and it still feels a little hot.

Shang Muxiao stirs up at my touch and looks at me with haziness in his eyes.

“Sorry to wake you up.”

I am about to withdraw my hand when Shang Muxiao grabs my wrist and pulls my hand back against his face.

“Your hands are so cold, so soothing.” The ends of his eyes grow red because of the fever, and his voice is tinged with a hint of huskiness.

I feel uncomfortable, wanting to withdraw my hand, but mindful that he is a patient.

I have been a patient too, and I know that being sick is not a pleasant experience. One can also easily become vulnerable.

“It’s because you’re still feverish. You’ll be fine when it goes down.”

“Bei Jie…” He looks at me with reddened eyes, his lips right where my pulse is, seeming to love the feel of that very skin. “Be my gem.”

I am so dumbstruck that I completely forget to react.

I can still turn a blind eye to that cocky appearance of his when he makes that bet with me or to his casual address of ‘Professor Bei’.

But now with such an appearance and such a voice, asking me to be his gem… He is, indeed, very crafty.