Your Distance

Late at night, Ting Shuang lay on the bed, talking to Bai Changyi on the phone.

“Did you realise that you lost a handkerchief?” Ting Shuang held the forgotten handkerchief in his hand.

Bai Changyi said, “No.”

Ting Shuang raised the handkerchief up to the camera, “This has always been with me.”

Bai Changyi laughed, “Mm, I know.”

“Oh?” Ting Shuang said, “But you just said that you didn’t realise you lost it.”

Bai Changyi said, “It’s with you, how does that count as losing it?”

It seemed like it didn’t count as losing it.

Ting Shuang looked at the ring on his finger.

Mm, of course it didn’t.

He put the phone aside, and filled with an overwhelming sense of longing, he rolled several times around on the bed. After that, he picked up the phone again, and simply told Bai Changyi, “Husband, I’m going to sleep.”

When Bai Changyi heard what Ting Shuang called him for the first time, the corners of his lips curled up, “What did you say?”

“I said, cough.” Ting Shuang held back a laugh, announcing it word by word like a news anchor, “Your husband, namely me, is going to sleep.”

The stress was placed on the first half of the sentence.

“Mm.” Bai Changyi indulged him by laughing, his lips near the microphone as he said in a low tone, “Good night.”

“Good night.” Ting Shuang was about to hang up before he thought of something. Then he asked Bai Changyi, “Is it dark on your side yet?”

Bai Changyi walked to the window, “The sun is setting.”

Barefoot, Ting Shuang also got out of bed and walked to the window, pulling open the curtains, “It’s early morning here, and there are many stars in the sky.”

He thought of the numerous stars that he had seen with Bai Changyi in the courtyard, on the mountains, and over the dark sea.

Bai Changyi said, “There are also a lot of stars over here.”

Ting Shuang said, “You can’t see them there, it’s not dark over there yet.”

“I can’t see them.” Bai Changyi looked at the bright horizon, the dazzling sunlight obstructing the view of the stars, “But I know they’re in the sky.”

It was suddenly tranquil inside of Ting Shuang’s mind. Most of the time, he couldn’t see Bai Changyi, but he knew that Bai Changyi was there. He sat on the windowsill and talked to Bai Changyi about Zhu Wenjia. As he talked, he recalled memories of the trivial happenings during their childhood days, up until how they’d played football together just an hour ago. The whole time, he spoke softly, as soft as leaves swaying in the breeze.

“You know, seeing my little brother wear my old clothes feels just like looking at myself from the past. I don’t know how to describe the feeling…” Ting Shuang turned his head and looked at the night sky outside the window for a while, before redirecting his gaze to the phone screen.

Bai Changyi looked at Ting Shuang, a slight smile in his eyes. He knew what Ting Shuang was talking about.

“I’d think of the times we clashed, or when I messed up and caused trouble– I know I did that often.” Ting Shuang paused, “You never blamed me, and you never got angry. Today, when Zhu Wenjia came to talk to me, I suddenly understood… What it’s like to be in your shoes.”

Turns out, that kind of calmness was not cultivated from discipline, but the simple thought of, ‘this is nothing’.

It was as if nothing could really be that much of a big deal, not even new birth, old age, sickness or death.

It felt complicated, and Ting Shuang couldn’t immediately explain it.

It might have been Bai Changyi’s influence, or it might have been his reflection on life after making his way through mountains and rivers, but his perspective had changed. He now knew what an insecure child looked like. He now knew what regret was all about. He now knew that a lot of things in life weren’t easy, and there sometimes was no right or wrong. Maybe, his change in perspective had been brought about simply because he had more than enough love, so much so that everything else just wasn’t worth harping on.

It felt like a mix of burning hard liquor, bitter vinegar, and snow frost, all boiled into a hearth of warmth and tenderness.