MY - 19

Starry Sky Kindergarten.

“Xiao Du’s mom.” The kindergarten teacher stood by the landline, finally getting through to the parent’s phone after more than a dozen attempts.

Anxious worry appeared on the teacher’s face: “It’s like this, Xiao Du’s mom, Xiao Du has a fever. I have dozens of other students to look after and can’t leave, so you might have to come and take Xiao Du to the hospital.”

The stifling heat of summer, a gray-white sky, dry, hot air, dense tree shade, and incessant cicada chirping.

The kindergarten was dilapidated and old, its walls yellowed, covered with neatly drawn graffiti.

The old fan on the ceiling creaked as it spun. Four-year-old Xiao Nandu sat obediently on a small stool, watching the children playing on the slide and games not far away.

The teacher’s call next to him seemed to have been hung up: “Xiao Du’s mom! Nandu’s mom!”

Xiao Nandu didn’t pay attention to this side, still staring at the playing children.

The teacher put down the phone receiver, turned to look at Xiao Nandu sitting on the small stool, her nose stinging slightly.

She walked over, knelt in front of Xiao Nandu, and held his burning little hand: “Xiao Du.”

Only then did Xiao Nandu’s gaze turn from the playing children to the teacher.

The little boy had red lips and white teeth, his dark eyes were very clear, completely unaware of his situation. He grinned at the teacher; he was a smiling little boy.

The teacher’s heart softened. She raised her hand and touched his head: “Does your tummy still hurt?”

Xiao Nandu shook his head, his voice childish: “Doesn’t hurt.”

“And your head, does your head hurt?”

Xiao Nandu was very honest, nodding.

Perhaps because she was also a mother, the teacher’s nose stung again. She smiled at him: “Teacher will get you some medicine. Can you sit here obediently, okay? Don’t run around.”

Xiao Nandu nodded, obediently agreeing: “Okay.”

The teacher touched his face: “Good boy.” Then she stood up to get medicine from the next room.

Xiao Nandu was not well-liked in the kindergarten; all the teachers knew it. The other children didn’t play with him or befriend him.

He only got a fever because another child snatched his blanket during naptime.

________________________________________

Until school ended at 5 PM, Lu Nandu’s mother still hadn’t appeared. All the other children had been picked up by their parents, leaving only Xiao Nandu alone.

The teacher anxiously stood by the landline, making calls.

This time, after more than a dozen attempts, no one answered.

The sun was about to set. Xiao Nandu, carrying a backpack one size too big for him, squatted on the ground, watching ants.

It was common for Lu Nandu’s mother not to pick him up from school, but every time the teacher would try her best to wait for his mother to come. Today was a day when she couldn’t wait for Lu Nandu’s mother.

The teacher led her own child out: “Xiao Du.”

Xiao Nandu stood up a beat later.

The teacher knelt in front of him: “Your mom has something to do today and can’t pick you up. Do you still remember the way home?”

Xiao Nandu’s small face had a bit of baby fat. He nodded seriously: “I do.”

Xiao Nandu had walked home by himself more than once. The teacher just asked to be sure: “Then you must walk home safely, can you promise teacher?”

Xiao Nandu played with his fingers, then nodded seriously again.

The child was only four and a half years old, yet he was unusually well-behaved and sensible for his age. He said goodbye to the teacher and slowly walked home with his backpack.

________________________________________

Xiao Nandu’s family lived in an old, dilapidated residential area.

Perhaps he got lost today because of his fever, wandering in circles. Finally, before dark, he found his way back near his home.

Xiao Nandu’s head was dizzy. He walked slowly with his head down.

The aroma of food from nearby houses wafted over. Xiao Nandu sniffed, his little feet seemingly fixed in place.

He was hungry, he wanted to eat.

An old man at a doorway saw the child staring at him like a hungry ghost and waved his hand, shooing him away: “You’re bad luck, get going, get going.”

Chased away, Xiao Nandu walked away, clutching his backpack strap, looking back every few steps.

As he was nearing home, walking along, he suddenly heard laughter from behind him.

Xiao Nandu turned around. A group of little boys held their bellies, pointing at him and laughing wildly.

Books lay scattered all over the concrete road: children’s earnest yet crooked calligraphy practice books, and messy doodle drawings.

Xiao Nandu’s small hand patted his own back; it was flat.

His little mouth instantly pouted with grievance.

His backpack was ripped.

The group of children, seeing their bullying succeed, became even more brazen: “Stupid and useless! Crying!”

Xiao Nandu was used to being bullied. He turned around and picked up the notebooks one by one from the ground.

“The idiot doesn’t even know we deliberately tore his backpack!” one boy laughed.

Some had already picked up small stones and thrown them at him: “A silly wild child with no dad, a silly poor child with no food.”

“Mommy doesn’t want a wild child, having babies with people every day!”

Children, relying on their youth and innocence, with unrestrained tongues, inflicted the greatest malice upon others. Without the shackles of reason, they unleashed their innate evil to the fullest.

The cruelty at this age was the most hurtful.

Xiao Nandu cried all the way home. His forehead was broken open, blood smearing his little face. His scraped little hands still tightly clutched his books.

In the old alley and old house, his small figure was lonely and forlorn.

________________________________________

His mother wasn’t home. The house was pitch black. Xiao Nandu moved a chair, climbed on it, and tiptoed to turn on the light.

His face was streaked with tears, and his stomach rumbled with hunger.

But his mother hadn’t cooked for him.

Xiao Nandu was burning hot all over. He sat on the bed and cried himself to sleep.

It wasn’t until nine o’clock that evening that the door was kicked open with a bang.

Xiao Nandu was woken up, but his eyes lit up; Mom was home.

He slid off the bed and ran out. In the living room, it wasn’t just Mom; there was also a strange man.

It wasn’t the first time Xiao Nandu had seen such a scene; his mother was always with different men.

This was normal.

As soon as Xiao Nandu saw his mother, all the grievances from the afternoon welled up. He scurried on his short legs towards her.

“Mommy, it hurts.”

The man saw Xiao Nandu, frowned, said something to his mother, and then went into the bathroom.

His mother, seeing Xiao Nandu in this state, frowned: “Where did you get that?”

Xiao Nandu said in a childish voice: “Mommy, they hit me.”

“Hit you? Why didn’t you fight back?! What good are you to me?”

Xiao Nandu flinched as his mother yelled at him, then softly called out for his mother.

His mother immediately pushed him away: “Don’t call me.”

Xiao Nandu fell to the ground, instantly bursting into wails of grievance.

This crying further enraged his mother. She got up from the sofa and picked him up: “Cry, cry, cry! All you do is cry all day!”

Xiao Nandu flailed his legs.

“You like to cry that much, do you?” His mother carried him a few steps out the door, “Cry your fill out here tonight.”

With that, she slammed the door shut.

Outside, rain fell, drops falling from the eaves, hitting Xiao Nandu’s bloody, feverish forehead.

Xiao Nandu, small as he was, was abandoned on the doorstep. He dared not cry out loud anymore, biting his lip, his small shoulders heaving with sobs.

His tender little face was covered in tears.

________________________________________

From childhood to adulthood, very few people had given Lu Nandu sweets.

So, even just one piece of candy could make him happy for a long time.

When he grew up, finally someone was willing to give him sweets, and he followed them stubbornly.

But now, even that person wouldn’t give him sweets anymore.

________________________________________

Jiang Xi didn’t sleep all night.

The rain outside the window showed no sign of stopping, light but persistent.

When she left Xia’s house after dinner and didn’t see Lu Nandu, Jiang Xi could probably guess where he had gone.

Lu Nandu was from Beijing, but he had lived in this city since he was little. He likely went home.

And she knew very well what kind of family Lu Nandu’s old home was.

After an unknown amount of time, Jiang Xi finally moved, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed.

She pulled back the curtains and looked out onto the balcony. The sky was still dark at four or five in the morning, and the surroundings were quietly asleep.

No one was downstairs; he must have left.

Jiang Xi lay back down on the bed and fell asleep at some point.

But this sleep only lasted an hour or two. When she woke up, Jiang Xi was no longer sleepy and got out of bed.

It was rare for her to wake up early today, and she wanted to accompany Xia Xinyan to the morning market. She washed up and went downstairs.

Her long, wavy hair was tied into a ponytail, and she wore a dress with a loose coat over it.

The house was quiet. Jiang Xi pushed the door open and turned to close it, when she saw someone sitting by the door.

In the faint morning light, the sky was not yet fully bright.

Lu Nandu had one leg stretched out, the other bent, and one arm lazily resting on his knee.

His head was against the wall, his brows deep and quiet, having shed his usual carefree demeanor. He looked very well-behaved in his sleep.

Just like twenty years ago, the child thrown out of his home that night had also sat quietly like that, asleep.

Jiang Xi, of course, didn’t know these things.

Perhaps hearing some movement, Lu Nandu slowly opened his eyes in a daze.

Jiang Xi didn’t move. Soon, he found her, and their gazes met.