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Qing Hang had no choice but to remind her, “I’m a guy.”
“So what if you’re a guy? Wasn’t the doctor just now a guy too? There’s no gender in front of patients. There are plenty of male gynecologists and obstetricians.”
Cheng Wanyue jumped onto the bed, her slippers flying off and landing at Qing Hang’s feet. “If a dog bites someone, the dog owner is responsible. Your instant noodles burned me, so you have to take responsibility.”
Qing Hang didn’t know if she was completely unguarded or if she had never taken him seriously from the beginning, just seeing him as a poor student sponsored by her parents, with whom she wouldn’t have much interaction.
If he retorted, she would come back with two or even more sentences, leaving him speechless.
No matter what, she always had a point.
Qing Hang appeared calm on the surface, but his mind was in turmoil. After several struggles, he barely convinced himself that she was right, it was just applying medicine.
They went back and forth for ten minutes before he picked up the ointment and slowly walked to the bedside to sit down. His hand recoiled before even touching her.
“Take off your clothes yourself.”
“Take off what? Just lift it up.” She was wearing a nightgown, which was very convenient.
Qing Hang sighed softly, “...The ones underneath.”
“Oh.” Cheng Wanyue belatedly realized. She lay on her stomach on the pillow, reached behind her with one hand, lifted her skirt, and carefully hooked her underwear, pulling it down a little. “Is this okay?”
The skin was red from the burn. Even though medicine had been applied at the hospital, it hadn’t been long enough for the redness to completely subside.
“Further down.”
She continued to pull it down. “Like this?”
“...Further down.”
She felt it was almost down to her thigh. “If I take it off any further, I’ll be naked.”
“Then do it yourself, I’m leaving.”
He stood up after saying that. Cheng Wanyue quickly called out to him, “Don’t go, don’t go! I’ll take it off! Isn’t it okay if I take it off...”
The doctor said that it was easy to get infected in the summer. If she didn’t apply the medicine properly, her skin might rot and fester. Cheng Wanyue didn’t care about anything else. She buried her face in the pillow, closed her eyes, and pulled her underwear down hard.
Qing Hang only wanted her to expose the burnt area, but he didn’t expect her to take it off so completely with that one pull.
The hem of her nightgown was lifted to her waist, and her underwear was down to her thighs. Her waist and buttocks were completely exposed to him. Her skin was fair with a rosy tinge. As she adjusted her position, arching up and then lying down, the tender, soft flesh jiggled slightly like jelly.
His former neighbor’s family were all bachelors. His wife had run off with someone else, and the husband had raised three sons by himself. Because they were poor, the eldest son was almost thirty and still couldn’t find a wife. He was usually a very honest person and worked diligently, never gossiping when helping others. He would sit on the edge of the field, smoke two cigarettes, and then bury himself in work. But on the wall of his bedroom at night, there were several yellowed old posters. The women on the posters had huge breasts and plump buttocks, and the underwear they wore was tied with thin strings, with the hair between their legs faintly visible. They wore nothing on top, only covering themselves with their hands, which instead squeezed out deeper cleavage. One of the posters showed a woman lying on her stomach with long hair, her breasts half-exposed, her buttocks slightly raised. When he slept on his side, he would face the woman’s buttocks, which had many speckled marks and fingerprints.
Several times when he went to borrow things, the first thing he saw upon entering was that poster.
Photos were always just photos, flatly printed on paper. No matter what, they couldn’t compare to the real thing.
She was warm, tangible.
He even felt that the calluses on his fingertips were too rough, and no matter how careful he was, he would still hurt her.
“Why are you touching my butt?” Cheng Wanyue suddenly spoke up.
“No cotton swabs, how can I apply medicine without touching,” Qing Hang handed her the ointment, “You teach me.”
Cheng Wanyue’s face turned awkward, and she threw the ointment back into his hand, then laid back on the pillow with a muffled voice, “Then touch it if you must.”
Qing Hang corrected her, “I’m applying the ointment.”
Cheng Wanyue was very ticklish. Earlier at the hospital, the doctor’s movements were skilled and fast, unlike him who was so slow; the slower he went, the harder it was to bear.
He didn’t move for a long while, and she knew he was looking at her.
“What are you looking at?”
“...There’s a birthmark.”
She had a heart-shaped birthmark on her butt, on the left side near her waist. It wasn’t very dark, only as big as a fingernail. He could completely cover it with his index finger.
“I’ve had it since I was born. My mom said it looked like a grain of millet when I was born. As I grew up, it grew too.”
Not even Cheng Yan Qing knew about it, but now he saw it. She felt a bit angry thinking about it, “Close your eyes, don’t look!”
He obeyed.
But after closing his eyes, he touched the wrong spot.
Both froze. Before Cheng Wanyue could scold him, she realized it was her fault. She clenched the pillow tightly with one hand and said in a muffled tone, “...Fine, open your eyes.”
This time, he acted quickly, as if eager to finish, and did it hastily.
But after applying the ointment, she couldn’t put on her underwear immediately, otherwise the ointment would stick to it.
She needed to let it dry for a few minutes, allowing the skin to absorb it.
Cheng Wanyue’s cheeks were flushed, whether from being smothered by the pillow or from the rare maidenly shyness that seldom appeared on her.
These five minutes felt long for her, but she didn’t know that every second for Qing Hang was even more torturous.
Her emotions came quickly and disappeared just as fast. After getting dressed, it was no big deal. There was a piece of bubble gum on the table, and she reached out to take it, peeled it, and popped it into her mouth.
Qing Hang sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, his lowered gaze fixed on the corner of the wall. She was still lying on the bed as before, playing with her phone while blowing bubbles, occasionally fixing her hair. Her little legs kicked in the air, and the shadow on the wall moved.
After a while, Cheng Wanyue wanted to ask Qing Hang what to eat for dinner, but suddenly noticed his strange sitting posture. His hands on his lap were clenched tightly, veins faintly protruding on his arms, and beads of sweat forming on his neck, as if he was enduring some kind of torment, struggling painfully.
Did water spill on him?
Was he also burned?
This stoic man, like wood, wouldn’t say anything even if he was uncomfortable.
“Qing Hang.”
“Mm.”
She put down her phone and crawled over, kneeling beside him. Moving closer, she called softly again, “Qing Hang?”
Qing Hang instinctively avoided her, creating distance, “What is it?”
“Can you take off your pants so I can check?”
Qing Hang abruptly stood up, desperately suppressing a strong physiological reaction, afraid of being found out yet unable to control it. The blood vessels beneath his skin were visibly throbbing.
“Cheng Wanyue, do you understand what shame is?”
“I am polite enough. Besides, I am just discussing with you. I didn’t directly take off your pants.” Seeing his reaction, Cheng Wanyue assumed he was fine and reassured herself, “Qing Hang, you saw my birthmark, so you need to tell me a secret.”
“...I have no secrets.”
How could anyone not have secrets? Unsatisfied, Cheng Wanyue continued to press him, “Did you have a circumcision surgery when you were young?”
That summer when Cheng Yan Qing was six years old, he walked home from the hospital like a crab, sulking in the house for two weeks. Every time she was bullied, she used this fact to retaliate, always victorious, repeatedly winning without exception.
“I’m leaving.”
“I haven’t eaten yet!”
“Starve then,” he closed the door and left.
But an hour later, he still sent food to the Cheng residence.
...
The apartment Cheng Yan Qing rented was on the twelfth floor, equipped with an elevator, making going upstairs effortless. However, there were many people coming and going at this time, including adults and children. Cheng Wanyue was carried on Qing Hang’s back, and everyone entering the elevator gave them a second glance.
After exiting the elevator, Cheng Wanyue instructed Qing Hang to turn left.
Qing Hang stood at the door, freeing one hand to search for the keys in her bag, opened the door, and then set her down. She steadied herself against the wall, took out her slippers, and gently stepped onto them with her bandaged foot.
He placed all her things on the shoe cabinet, showing no intention of entering the house.
“Wait,” Cheng Wanyue hopped on one foot to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and hopped back to the doorway, “Thank you today.”
“It’s my duty,” he took the cold water bottle, the coolness soothing the heat in his palms, “You fell there, and I bear responsibility.”
Cheng Wanyue looked down at the crumpled shirt on her body, “How should I return your clothes?”
“No need to return, handle them however you wish.”
“But my clothes are still at your place. I really liked that dress, and now it’s unavailable for purchase. You can’t throw it away.”
She said, “Let’s exchange phone numbers.”
Qing Hang showed little emotion, just nodded and took out his phone.
“152…”
There was a brief pause in his motion as he entered the number into his contacts.
Cheng Wanyue was still using the same mobile number from eight years ago.
“My phone needs repair. If it can’t be fixed, I’ll have to get a new one. Call me again in a few days.”
“Mm.”
“Then...”
He stepped back, “I’m leaving first.”
“Alright,” Cheng Wanyue waved her hand, “Bye-bye.”
She closed the door, and Qing Hang turned to wait for the elevator. On the screen of his phone, only the first nine digits of the number were entered.
He had long memorized these eleven digits, like the periodic table of chemical elements he learned in middle school. Over a decade had passed, but saying “hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron” could naturally follow with “carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine, neon,” ingrained in muscle memory.
There were countless times he had yearned for this number to call him, and just as many times he wanted to forget her.
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