Chapter 47

I was woken up by the sound of firecrackers. When I opened my eyes, there was a deafening sound of exploding firecrackers coming from outside.

When I was a child, I learnt a saying: ‘The sound of firecrackers bids the old year farewell’[1]. However, whether it was the old or new year, it didn’t matter to me in the slightest.

I sat in the cramped closet filled with dust. I couldn’t see anything or feel anything. I listened to the sounds outside, indifferent.

Only after the sound of the firecrackers had stopped, did I then carefully open the closet door slightly, leaving a tiny slit. But when I peered out, I didn’t see the person I wanted to see, so I simply continued to hide inside.

I stayed inside. I couldn’t sleep, but I didn’t want to go out either. I remained like that all the way until day broke.

This closet was very big. As a child, I would often hide inside here and end up falling asleep. But since I was already an adult, no matter how big the closet was, it was still very cramped for me.

Being curled up was very uncomfortable, but I seemed to be frozen in place. I couldn’t move at all.

Sunlight shone into the closet through the gap in the door. I tried to avoid it, but there was nowhere for me to hide.

The sky had brightened. The temperature was finally starting to rise. I shifted slightly, and unexpectedly the old closet wobbled, causing me to fall right out.

I had been in there the whole night. I was frozen stiff. I stayed curled up on the floor, dust all over my body.

It was the first day of Chinese New Year. For practically the entire day, I lay on the ice-cold floor spacing out, watching the winter sun come and go.

I couldn’t think about anything at all. Every now and then, I would suddenly not know who I was and why I was lying here. I thought to myself; Maybe I’ve gone crazy too.

Some mental illnesses were inheritable. These botched genes had tightly woven themselves into my life.

When the sun started to set, my panic intensified. I wanted it to stay a while longer, but when I opened my mouth, I realised I couldn’t make a sound. I could only cry in silence, tears rolling down my face as I screamed inside, pleading for it to stay with me a little longer.

I didn’t know how long a person could go without food and water, but at that moment, I had already completely given up on myself.

It was like all of my consciousness was beginning to clear out. I didn’t even have the strength to kill myself. I just wanted to lie there, and naturally extinguish and disappear.

I had never thought about whether I would die, or whether I would die in a filthy, hideous way. At that point in time, those things didn’t seem so important to me anymore.

I couldn’t remember at all how long I had lain there for. When I awoke again, I was already lying in the hospital.

The sunlight was very glaring. When I opened my eyes, all around me was silence.

The person sitting next to my bed was Yan Yang’s mother. She was spacing out, her head lowered.

She hadn’t realised I had woken up. I didn’t call for her either.

A big part of why I didn’t call for her was because I momentarily couldn’t recall who she was; just like how I couldn’t recall who I was, or why I was here.

But slowly, my consciousness began to stir. It hadn’t gone missing; it was just waking up a little later than my body.

Later on, the doctor said that my mental slowness was pathologic. I had been affected mentally, so the reaction time of my consciousness and body had slowed to varying degrees.

All of my uncontrolled emotions had already eased by then. My mental state had stabilised as well. It was only then that I finally felt remorse, like a normal human being would.

I looked at her, and thought of her. I thought of the care and concern she had shown me all these years.

We were really neither kith nor kin. She was doing her utmost to accept me.

If you had to name the most innocent people in this entire fiasco, it would be her and Yan Yang.

Yan Yang.

When I thought of him, I felt I wasn't worthy of the sunlight and closed my eyes again.

My eyes were closed, but I couldn't sleep and didn't know what to do either. After a while, I heard the sound of footsteps, then heard that man softly tell her to take a break.

“It's okay. I slept a bit just now.”

“I'll keep watch,” Yan Yang's father said, “You should go see Yan Yang.”

I opened my eyes, because I heard Yan Yang's name.

That man saw me and subconsciously furrowed his brows. But this reaction from him couldn't hurt me anymore; I had heard far worse already.

Yan Yang's mother also realised I had woken up. She seemed a bit awkward, quickly averting her gaze as she said, “I'll go get the doctor.”

She left. He closed the door.

I watched him wordlessly. The pain he caused me had grown yet again – I clearly could have died already, but he had brought me back again.

He sat on the chair next to the bed. We looked at each other, our gazes emotionless.

After the chaos, what was meant to live had lived, and what was meant to die had also thoroughly died.

He said, “Let’s talk.”

“Okay.” When I spoke, my voice was hoarse.

He sat there and sighed. Another long silence ensued.

“Are you getting ready to die in atonement for your sins?” I asked, “Or are you getting ready to kill me?”

“Let me apologise first.” The number of white hairs on his head seemed to have increased since the last time we met. He continued, “I have indeed wronged you. It's completely reasonable for you to hate me.”

He raised a hand and forcefully rubbed his face, “It was I who wronged you. I hurt you.”

I watched him sit there and say that, following which he began to cry.

A man who was almost sixty years old, with a head full of white hair, covered his face with his hand and cried bitterly.

What was he crying for?

Me? My mother? Or was it for Yan Yang and himself?

Watching him cry, I should have felt overjoyed. I should have been laughing – yet tears fell instead. I watched him expressionlessly, feeling like it was all so ridiculous.

Footnotes:

[1] ‘The sound of firecrackers bids the old year farewell’: 爆竹声声辞旧岁; a saying that originated from the poem ‘New Year’s Day’ by Wang Anshi. For those who are curious, below is the poem:

Amid the sound of firecrackers a year has come to an end,

The spring wind has wafted warm breath to the Tusu wine.

While the rising sun shines over each and every household,

People get rid of the old couplets and put up the new ones.

Also, setting off firecrackers is a Chinese New Year custom.