CH 6

Chapter 6: A Sudden Heavy Storm

Of course he remembered.

Yue Zhishi had arrived at Song Yu’s side at the same time as a sudden rainstorm.

He remembered very clearly. He had been the one who opened the door that night, and the unexpected summer rain had blown in, wetting his hair. His father had carried a child in his arms, coat wrapped tightly around the child. After he came in, he’d knelt down and cuddled Song Yu.

Song Yu had suspiciously pulled aside a bit of the coat. “Who is this?”

The coat’s opening had revealed a pair of eyes. They’d looked almost like glass marbles.

“This is your younger brother.”

Six-year-old Song Yu gained a younger brother overnight. He was soft and beautiful, and he looked just like the angels in fairytale books. He had brown curly hair and could only speak English in a sweet, childish voice.

Song Yu was the exact opposite of this child. Song Yu never had a lively personality from birth — he never fussed around, but he would also never talk much. Relatives always said he had a bad personality that needed to be changed, but Lin Rong stood up for him, saying his personality resembled her father. She allowed Song Yu to be himself from childhood.

He was very smart, his mind maturing a lot faster than other children. But no matter how mature he was, he was at a loss when faced with a strange child who would take away a portion of his parents’ love and care. Song Yu didn’t like him at first — but he also didn’t hate him. 

Most of the time, he just silently observed.

So strange, his eyelashes are so curly.

Why does this small thing find it so hard to speak? He looks a bit dumb.

I couldn’t have been this dumb when I was younger, right?

But Yue Zhishi was born cute, and relatives always complimented him whenever they saw him. Those compliments shook Yue Zhishi’s impression in little Song Yu’s heart. He couldn’t help but admit it — Yue Zhishi was cuter than the Pomeranian dog Song Yu wanted to buy. 

The third day he arrived, Yue Zhishi suddenly couldn’t stop crying, sobbing that he wanted mommy and daddy, his own mommy and daddy. No one could stop his tears.

“Don’t cry.” Song Yu walked closer, and Yue Zhishi stuck out his arms for a hug once he was close enough. But Song Yu couldn’t lift him, so Yue Zhishi wrapped himself around him, sticking to him just like a glutinous rice cake.

“My head hurts from all your crying.” Song Yu felt hopeless and said to Lin Rong, “Mom, let’s send him back to find his mom and dad. Send him home.”

Lin Rong looked at him, wanting to say something but was unable to speak. She ended up coaxing Yue Zhishi into her arms and brought him upstairs, leaving only Song Yu and his father in the living room.

“Xiao Yu.” Father Song pulled him over and very seriously said, “That younger brother doesn’t have a mom or dad anymore.”

Song Yu frowned. He didn’t say anything and silently pondered what that meant. Father Song very quickly gave him a clearer answer.

“His parents are gone. He doesn’t have a home he can return to.”

He understood what “gone” meant.

Song Yu’s frown deepened. He looked upstairs before turned back to his father. “Then will he leave in the future?”

Father Song shook his head. “This is his home now.”

Adults would always unconsciously think children couldn’t understand anything. But in reality, children’s compassionate hearts were always larger than adults’. They were the ones who would shelter a stray dog under their umbrellas on the way home. 

Song Yu was the same, even if he had never been much of an empathetic child. 

Once he returned back to his room, he hugged a pillow and sat on the small sofa. Father Song’s words circled around inside his head.

Yue Zhishi was such a cute child, and yet he didn’t have his parents anymore. 

Those words stuck in his heart, and the more he thought about it, the more he thought Yue Zhishi was pitiful. No matter how beautiful a stray dog was, it would always be a stray. It would never have a place to go to when it rained and could only stay shivering in the alleyways, cold and hungry. 

The door suddenly squeaked open, interrupting Song Yu’s train of thought about stray dogs. He looked over and saw Yue Zhishi’s small figure standing by the door peering sadly into the room. Only half his face showed past the doorframe, and he even gave a random burp.

Song Yu glanced at him and arrogantly asked, “Why are you hiding?” His heart softened when the small figure didn’t move, so he waved a hand, hinting for him to come in. Only then did Yue Zhishi slowly wobble his way towards him, every step stumbling from unsteady feet. It looked like he could fall over at any second, scaring Song Yu as he watched.

Once Yue Zhishi finally managed to reach him, he simply gazed at him with his large eyes, face red from all his crying. He looked like a ripe peach almost ready to burst.

His eyes were swollen. Song Yu remembered what Father Song said previously and so scooted over and allowed Yue Zhishi to huddle on the couch with him.

It rained all through the last few days. It hadn’t stopped raining since Yue Zhishi arrived.

He was asking Yue Zhishi why he came to his room when lightning suddenly flashed outside his window. Loud thunder crashed before Yue Zhishi could answer and scared him into throwing his arms around Song Yu, his entire body trembling.

Even though Song Yu was also startled by the thunder, Yue Zhishi was scared way more than he was. Not only did he tremble in fear, he once again started crying.

Song Yu was most afraid of his crying. He wanted to get up and ask his mother to take Yue Zhishi back to his room, but Yue Zhishi refused to let go, stubbornly sticking to his body. Song Yu had no choice but to pretend to be like a real older brother and try to soothe him. But he didn’t like to speak, so he only covered his ears and lightly patted his back. 

The thunder refused to stop. Every time Yue Zhishi calmed down a little bit, the thunder would once again sound and waste all of his previous efforts.

Song Yu decided to look for something to distract the poor little thing.

After thinking for a while, Song Yu took out a large box of chocolate-filled madeleine cookies. His dad had brought it back for him after a trip overseas, and Song Yu hadn’t been willing to open it.

How lucky of you.

Yue Zhishi wasn’t so scared anymore with some sweets and Song Yu covering his ears. He ate very cutely, his two small pudgy hands holding a cookie as he took one bite after another. He jumped when thunder suddenly crashed again, and the cookie fell out of his hands. He picked it straight back up and continued to eat as tears rolled down his face.

It was funny and pitiful at the same time.

“You’re so small. How can you eat so much?” Song Yu looked at the empty box. There was only one cookie left, so he took it and bit into the sweet chocolate centre. 

Yue Zhishi reached out a hand towards him and softly said he still wanted more. Song Yu didn’t have a choice but to hand over the cookie in his hand. “No more after this.”

Yue Zhishi quickly ate that last half, chocolate smearing all over his mouth. Song Yu found him dirty and grabbed a tissue to wipe his mouth. 

He thought he really did seem like an older brother.

Song Yu had complex feelings about this older brother identity suddenly being pushed onto him. It was a bit of a burden, but at the same time, he felt both pleased and proud about it. It was better than having a hundred people say to him, “You’ve grown up.” 

Yue Zhishi refused to leave at bedtime, crying and fussing that he wanted to sleep with Song Yu. Lin Rong was forced to carry him into her son’s room. Yue Zhishi stopped crying and fussing as soon as he entered Song Yu’s blanket, obediently and peacefully sleeping next to Song Yu’s arm. He was just like a small western doll, tearfully, obediently saying good night to him in English. 

Just because Song Yu covered his ears during thunder and gave him cake to eat, it looked like Yue Zhishi imprinted onto this child only three years older than him. Just like a young chick. 

Once Lin Rong left, Song Yu flipped over and looked at Yue Zhishi who had his eyes closed. He silently thought it could be nice to have a younger brother. Even though he was a bit clingy and constantly wanted to be close to him, it wasn’t that bad. He could take him to the park to fly kites, to look at the riverside reeds. He could take him with him to his Olympic Mathematic classes, even though this small thing probably wouldn’t understand a word. 

Song Yu’s brain was already full of scenarios with Yue Zhishi sticking to him.

Children were always full of curiosity, except for Song Yu. He was full of logic from a young age. But once he realised he’d become an older brother, for the first time in his life, he was filled with a strange novelty. 

But that night, Song Yu also understood for the first time that it wasn’t so simple to be an older brother.

He was startled awake by the sound of Yue Zhishi’s breathing in the middle of the night. His small hands were tightly grasped onto his arm, every breath gasping for air. Song Yu was scared witless, and his first reaction was to run off the bed to pound on his parents’ door. 

The sound of the ambulance terrified people more than thunder, and it kept ringing in Song Yu’s ears all night. He refused to be left behind and ran behind the adults, watching as his father carried Yue Zhishi. He was so small. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was no longer that pretty pink colour.

The emergency room was full of disorder. His memories were like scattered scenes from a film covered by a grey filter. The sound of his heartbeat and Yue Zhishi’s painful attempts for air were his background music.

The doctor finally came out and told them everything was okay. His crying mother suddenly stood up, and his father pulled out a cigarette. Only then did Song Yu’s heart start to calm down.

“Our initial testing shows asthma caused by food allergies. We tested some allergens, and it looks like this child has a very severe wheat allergy. He cannot eat anything with wheat. A mild reaction could be diarrhoea and a rash, but a stronger reaction may be like tonight’s acute asthma attack. As parents, how could you not pay attention to these things?”

Lin Rong kept crying and didn’t say anything. Yue Zhishi hadn’t eaten anything that was made from wheat from the day he arrived — he’d eaten mostly vegetables, fruit or rice porridge. His parents passed away so suddenly, leaving them no way to find out.

“We’ll be more careful next time,” Father Song hoarsely said.

“This allergy is very serious. The child’s only three years old — you can’t joke around with this.” The doctor continued, “Did he eat something he shouldn’t have eaten today?

“He shouldn’t have…” Lin Rong thought it was strange. She couldn’t remember giving him anything with wheat today.

A string snapped in Song Yu’s mind. He suddenly understood. He was the world’s scariest culprit, almost killing the younger brother who’d relied on him so much. The beloved cookies he’d brought out to soothe ended up going down as poison. 

“He… he ate some cookies. I gave them to him.” Song Yu had never been so anxious before, and yet he honestly confessed his crime, even though he hadn’t really meant to commit it.

The doctor sighed, “We see these situations a lot. They’re just children. It’s just like when you feed some goldfishes and then they’re dead the next day from being overfed. They never mean to do it.”

This comparison didn’t lessen Song Yu’s guilt at all. It increased it.

“Seeing how strongly he reacted, he should’ve eaten a fair amount.” The doctor comforted him and said, “You must really like your younger brother to give him so much cake. Remember, next time you can’t.”

A child’s sense of remorse and anxiety allowed Song Yu to understand for the first time — even ‘like’ could cause harm. 

He thought he’d just taken in a pitiful stray dog, sheltering it with his umbrella during a storm. But in reality, he’d extended out his arm to carelessly feed some fishes while being full of delight, and the end result was just a lifeless, floating goldfish.

His parents didn’t blame him and even comforted him like the doctor did, telling him it was okay. But from that day on, Song Yu purposefully put some distance between him and this younger brother and refused to get overly close. He didn’t understand why, but perhaps he was unable to let go of that night’s fear and anxiety. Perhaps he realised what restraint meant.

He understood what it meant a lot earlier than even some adults.

After growing up, Song Yu constantly felt like there was a barrier between him and the rest of the world. His hands tightly clenched the few threads connecting him to the people he needed, and everything was covered by shades of grey.

Only Yue Zhishi was an accident in his planned out life, arriving like a sudden heavy storm. Some people said it was an unresolved brotherhood from their previous lives bringing them together. A special thread was added to his hands, thin and bright red in colour. It was so thin it might break with just one breath. After all, this string didn’t belong to him in the first place — so not only did he tightly grasp onto it, he tried to find ways to keep it intact. 

He just chose the stupidest, but most guaranteed way.