Tao Xiaodong was originally about to wake Tao Huainan—there was just about enough time for them to clean up and have breakfast before heading out. But before he could go inside Tao Huainan’s room, he saw Tao Huainan groping out a pair of underwear from the closet with his butt bare.

The door to Tao Huainan’s room was open; he didn’t know his brother was watching him. He was holding another pair of undies in his hand, and he was even frowning with disdain. He was about to walk out, but perhaps he felt it wasn’t too good of an idea to walk out with a bare butt. He slowly pulled on his pyjama pants again.

If this happened to some other thoughtful and considerate parent, they would hide away right about now to save their child from feeling embarrassed. But not Tao Xiaodong—he insisted on being wicked.

He just had to suddenly speak, a broad grin on his face. “Got your undies dirty?”

Tao Huainan was clearly startled, his soul about to jump out from the scare. He blurted out, “Ah!”

He realised it was his ge after his ‘ah’, and he clenched the undies in his hand into a ball, not speaking. He sulkily walked to the bathroom by himself. 

Annoyingly, Tao Xiaodong followed behind him and asked, “Had a dream?”

Tao Huainan had initially been curious about those kinds of dreams, and he’d also had a small touch of unexplainable anticipation towards them as he longed to grow up. The things he’d heard in class were blurry and indistinct; when he occasionally heard the boys in class talk about these things, they had talked about them with light suggestive overtones.

Who knew his dreams would be like that—what the hell was that, what kind of terrible dream was that, what was so good about it.

Saying out loud exactly what he thought, Tao Huainan grumbled, “What a terrible dream…”

“What’d you dream about? Tell ge?” Tao Xiaodong bumped his brother with a shoulder.

“Why do you want to hear about everything.” Tao Huainan had actually first thought these things were quite embarrassing, but after he really had a dream, he realised there was nothing to be embarrassed about. The dream had been way too honest and upfront. “I dreamed that Chi Ku was carrying me on his back while hiding from Chi Zhide. We kept running and running and running. It was so tiring.”

Tao Xiaodong had prepared to listen with a gossipy look on his face, so when he heard this, he was a bit stupefied. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.” Tao Huainan threw his underwear into the sink. “What’s the point of asking about it!”

Tao Huainan was slightly grumpy at being made all dirty and sticky. He needed to shower—the gooey and squelchy feeling was honestly too gross. He turned around and said, “Hurry up and go out, I need to wash my underwear.”

“Go ahead and wash them,” Tao Xiaodong said, not moving. He leaned against the wall behind him and then asked, “You didn’t dream about girls?”

“What girls, only Chi Zhide.” Tao Huainan himself was also gloomy about it. “He’s so annoying, why’d I even dream about him.”

Tao Xiaodong was a little confused: when they first started to grow up, boys generally tended to dream about suggestive things. Spring dreams—they should have some colour1 to them no matter what. But when it came to his younger brother, Tao Huainan was too clean; there was no such thing for him.

This matter left Tao Xiaodong quite torn as well—it looked like his brother didn’t understand a single thing about these matters and didn’t have the tiniest idea about them. He couldn’t even fantasise about anything even when dreaming.

Normally, Tao Xiaodong would be the one to talk to him; it was right and proper for an older brother to teach his younger brother about these things. He should have a conversation with Tao Huainan and impart a bit of sexual knowledge to him, or else the boy wouldn’t have anything to even dream about. But the blind child was honestly too clean: he was like a large sheet of snow white paper. Tao Xiaodong was reluctant to splash ink on top of it.

After struggling for half the day, he thought he might as well leave it like this—let things come naturally and of their own accord.

And whilst Tao Xiaodong decided to let nature take its course, he made it so the blind child didn’t look forward to those things at all.

That dream had been too tiring—and it had been scary too.

To the point that he felt tired when he later heard Chi Ku panting on the phone while talking to him. He asked, “Why is Chi Zhide so scary?”

Chi Ku was confused at Tao Huainan’s random question that’d come out of nowhere. Frowning, he asked, “He went looking for you guys?”

“No, no,” Tao Huainan said, “we haven’t seen him.”

“Then why’d you bring him up,” Chi Ku said.

“I dreamed about him.” Tao Huainan said in disdain, “He was chasing after us like a dog.”

“Don’t dream about him.” Chi Ku fairly indifferently asked, “What did he look like in your dreams?”

It was as though Tao Huainan heard a very dumb question; he flipped over on the bed irritably. “I’m blind!”

Chi Ku had casually asked. He stopped talking about it after responding with an ‘ah’.

His world in his dreams was the same as his usual world. The blind boy no longer remembered what he’d seen before. Even in his dreams, he could only rely on his hearing, his touch and his sense of smell to understand what was happening.

Sometimes he did find it regrettable—he couldn’t see how his brother and Chi Ku looked even in his dreams.

There were still ten-odd days until school started again. Tao Huainan had been in a pretty good mood lately.

Chi Ku had said he’d be back by the time school started. Tao Huainan had known before that he couldn’t be away from Chi Ku, and now he understood it even more deeply. He counted the days every morning as soon as he opened his eyes, earnestly wishing for school to start tomorrow.

But Chi Zhide still didn’t have any intention of leaving; Chi Ku said he was still thinking about asking for money from ge.

Tao Huainan was a bit afraid of Chi Ku not being back by the time school started, but Chi Ku said he could—and Tao Huainan was willing to believe him.

Ge had been busy recently, his feet always moving. He needed to run to so many different places every day; they were planning a convention again. Tao Huainan didn’t want to hold him up—it would be too troublesome to bring him along everywhere, and so he didn’t follow Tao Xiaodong around. He stayed at home by himself every day, listening to the television whenever he was bored.

Auntie no longer came. She’d gone to work for another family now.

Tao Xiaodong prepared lunch and left it in the steam oven to keep warm before he left in the morning, and Tao Huainan took it out to eat once he got hungry. After finishing it, he went to take a nap. The nap left him in a daze, and before he opened his eyes, he called out, “Xiao-ge.” He only remembered Chi Ku wasn’t at home right now after calling out a few times, and the disappointment that came after that sudden realisation was too hard to bear.

Tao Huainan didn’t want to memorise his texts anymore, and he didn’t want to listen to television either. Sitting up in bed, he only wanted to give Chi Ku a call.

Chi Ku didn’t pick up, so Tao Huainan sat there peacefully, waiting for time to pass minute by minute and second by second.

He spent quite a few days counting down the hours like that. Chi Ku started off not picking up his phone—later, his phone was turned off.

The one thing Tao Huainan looked forward to was school starting. As long as school started, Chi Ku would be able to come back.

The central heating at home hadn’t been working too well lately. It was so very cold. Tao Huainan wore thick socks at night, and now he sat on the sofa in woollen pyjamas, staring into space with his worn blanket around him. 

Ge had returned earlier that afternoon, and he left again after dropping off some dinner. He had a dinner party to go to.

Before sleeping, Tao Huainan went to shower by himself. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t been paying attention or if he was simply unlucky, but he slipped and tumbled out of the shower, the side of his arm knocking into the edge of the glass door. The shower curb left a long, long scrape on his calf; it hurt rather terribly.

He slowly walked out with his hand on the wall. He didn’t even put on his pyjamas, taking his blanket from the couch before going back to his room.

If Chi Ku were here, he’d definitely fiercely scold him for being distracted, saying he didn’t know what Tao Huainan was thinking inside his brain to walk so carelessly. Tao Huainan was delicate: he’d feel wronged at getting yelled at after getting hurt.

There was no one here to scold him now. Under his quilts, he touched his arm and touched his leg, both of them aching terribly as soon as he touched them. The scrape on his leg had broken through the skin, and so he felt even more wronged than if he’d been yelled at.

Once Chi Ku was back, he would definitely press onto those bruised areas on purpose. If Tao Huainan said they hurt, Chi Ku would scold him in a cold voice. Tao Huainan wanted to hear Chi Ku scolding him right now—it would be fine even if Chi Ku was angry.

…He missed xiao-ge. 

Chi Ku’s cell phone remained turned off. Tao Xiaodong called the uncle in their old home, and the uncle said he’d seen that young Chi boy yesterday, he was fine and doing quite well.

Tao Xiaodong relaxed. He really had been too busy these days with almost no time to sleep, surrounded by things he needed to do.

Tao Huainan moped by himself at home, wanting to ask why Chi Ku didn’t call him if he was doing fine. There were only a few days left until school—was he still coming back?

The more time passed, the more scared he became. He was afraid Chi Ku wouldn’t keep his word and really wouldn’t come back.

Because of that fall in the shower, Tao Huainan didn’t wear his pyjamas that night. The areas he’d hit on his arm and his leg hurt as soon as something touched them, so he only wore a pair of shorts. He’d never been a peaceful sleeper, and he woke up several times from the cold during the night, reaching out to cover himself with the quilts as soon as he woke up. Neither his blanket nor the quilts covered him securely; in the morning as he got out of bed, he felt like his nose was a bit blocked.

From that day on, Tao Huainan started to have a slight cough. He’d caught a chill from that night’s sleep. His cough wasn’t very serious, so both he and Tao Xiaodong didn’t take it seriously—but two days before school was about to start, Tao Huainan’s head started to ache.

Both of his temples were pulsating, yet Tao Huainan didn’t say a single thing. He didn’t care about whether he had a headache or not right now; his mood was dropping bit by bit. There had been no news from Chi Ku at all, and the hope in Tao Huainan’s heart was like an oil lamp—the light was about to be fully consumed.

The last day before school was about to start, Tao Huainan snapped.

When Tao Xiaodong woke up that morning, he saw him sitting in bed and dialing on his phone, sending out calls again and again. If the call didn’t connect, he would continue calling.

Tao Xiaodong called out to him, but Tao Huainan didn’t react. He kept pressing the call button again and again, his jaw tense.

“Xiao Nan.” Walking over, Tao Xiaodong sat next to him and took away his phone.

Tao Huainan frowned, and Tao Xiaodong said to him, “He might not be able to come back immediately. Don’t keep thinking about it.”

“Then wouldn’t he have lied to me?” Tao Huainan couldn’t accept it; he shook his head and said, “He promised me himself.”

“It’s not like he wanted to lie to you.” Seeing how tenacious his brother looked, Tao Xiaodong stroked his face and said, “Even if he’s not back by today, you need to go to school like you should be doing. As soon as I finish my matters these next two days, we’ll go and bring him back.”

Tao Huainan pressed his lips together, not speaking. His lips had gone a bit white.

Tao Xiaodong2 touched Tao Huainan’s forehead—it wasn’t hot—and said to him, “Don’t be so stubborn with yourself. I promise you that we’ll definitely bring him back. He still needs to go to school.”

Tao Huainan only nodded after a long while had passed. His brows were still drawn together, and with his head lowered, he said, “I don’t want him to lie to me.”

“He didn’t do it on purpose.” Tao Xiaodong coaxed him, helping Chi Ku and saying, “He’s just too sensible.”

Tao Huainan knew Chi Ku was a sensible child. He was fierce and grumpy, but he was such a good person.

Tao Huainan was the one who knew that the best, but if Chi Ku really didn’t come back, Tao Huainan would still be heartbroken. This had nothing to do with whether or not Chi Ku understood things—he’d promised something with his own mouth, so if he didn’t do it, he would be lying.

Tao Huainan stayed at home by himself and persistently called Chi Ku the entire day, calling so much his phone ran out of battery.

Not a single call connected.

In the end, Tao Huainan still went to school by himself the day school started.

Ge sent him over in the morning, and at night, Tian Yi-ge picked him up and brought him back. Ge was working at the convention, so busy he was never around.

It was the same the second day.

The third day too.

Tao Huainan understood the lessons the teachers taught, and he securely kept every single piece of Chi Ku’s homework, placing them into his schoolbag and bringing them home every day. But Chi Ku still didn’t come back.

At school, Tao Huainan barely talked to others. He also didn’t go eat during lunch, simply lying on his desk the entire time. He didn’t eat, and neither did he drink any water.

Tao Huainan was like a small animal without any energy. Chi Ku hadn’t come back, and so he too seemed to have sealed himself away.

1 The term used her Chinese slang for sexual things is to call it ‘yellow’. For example, if someone thinks you’re talking about sexual/perverted things, they’ll say, “Are you being yellow?” Hence why Tao Xiaodong thinks the dream should have some colour to it.
2 The raws say ‘Tao Huainan touched his forehead’ but that is most likely a typo considering the dialogue!

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