Today is Saturday.
At 5 a.m., Yan Heng was awakened by his alarm clock on the sofa in his own living room. He closed his eyes tightly, sighed, got up, and went to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water.
He looked at himself in the mirror. His face was pale and thin, his eyes were bloodshot, with heavy dark circles and bags under them, and there was a shadow of stubble on his chin.
He had returned home at 1 a.m. last night and only slept for four hours before having to get up. He felt his head was somewhat heavy and groggy. He shook his head and washed his face again, suppressing the drowsiness.
Soon after, he went out, arriving at the Tian Tian Breakfast Shop before 5:30. As usual, he put on an apron and a transparent plastic face mask, chopped filling, and kneaded dough with practiced ease.
The proprietress looked at his terrible complexion with concern: "Yan Heng, are you alright?"
Yan Heng pursed his thin lips and shook his head.
"Take care of your health!"
"Okay."
By 6 o'clock, there were already some early-rising migrant workers. Yan Heng went to serve them. Gradually, more people arrived.
While serving customers, Yan Heng scanned the crowd once.
She hadn't come.
He sighed softly, his breath fogging up the transparent plastic mask.
It must be too cold; the little lazy cat must be hiding under the covers, not wanting to get up!
Thinking this, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, and the disappointment in his heart faded a little.
Xu Chun came to the Tian Tian Breakfast Shop to buy breakfast as usual, buying more than during the school term, with several portions for her bed-loving cousin and younger cousin of similar age.
She reached out to take the plastic bag containing the breakfast from Yan Heng, but Yan Heng directly placed the bag on a nearby table.
Xu Chun's outstretched right hand paused, hung in the air for a moment, then withdrew.
The young man who had just been looking down suddenly raised his head and stared at Xu Chun. The transparent plastic mask he wore accentuated his eyes beautifully. They were Xu Chun's favorite eyes. Narrow and long in shape, like unfathomly deep, cold pools. Now, those eyes were full of ice and danger, looking at her as if she were an inanimate object. Xu Chun had seen the way he looked at Zhu Yaya, the tenderness in his eyes almost overflowing, a stark contrast to this.
Xu Chun's right hand clenched into a fist.
Yan Heng stared at Xu Chun and said in a low voice, "I know what you want to do. I don't care, but you absolutely must not lay a hand on her."
After saying this, Yan Heng withdrew his gaze from Xu Chun: "Next."
Xu Chun knew Yan Heng was warning her. She lightly bit her lower lip, picked up the breakfast, and left.
At nine o'clock, Yan Heng took off his apron and mask and put on a dark old cotton-padded jacket with several small holes. It was bought a few years ago and had become somewhat tight and small.
He said goodbye to the proprietress, picked up a thermos containing hot porridge, and went to catch the bus to the inpatient area of the Di Du Third People's Hospital.
He climbed several flights of stairs and hurried to a ward. Mother Yan lay quietly on the bed, covered by two clean white quilts, breathing steadily.
Yan Heng breathed a sigh of relief and gently placed the thermos on the table. He reached out to tuck in the quilt corner for Mother Yan, took off his old cotton-padded jacket, and laid it over Mother Yan's quilt. Then, Yan Heng, wearing only a thin black sweater, quietly moved a chair over, placed it by the bed, and watched his sleeping mother.
As he watched, drowsiness crept over him too, his eyelids beginning to droop heavily. He shook his head, trying to stay awake, but couldn't resist the overwhelming tide of sleep. He leaned back against the chair and fell into a deep sleep.
He had a dream, dreaming that he was constantly falling into endless darkness, but just as he was about to be swallowed by it, a pair of hands pulled him out in time.
That person's hands were soft and small.
Like... like Zhu Yaya's hands. He had held her hand last night.
The dream ended there.
His consciousness gradually cleared, and he slowly opened his eyes, only to see the girl he constantly thought about.
Her fair, tender face was very close to his, so close he could feel her breath.
Zhu Yaya hadn't expected Yan Heng to wake up suddenly at that moment.
Last night, Zhao Jing had found out the ward number of Mother Yan from a colleague and told Zhu Yaya. So, she decided to visit Mother Yan on Saturday, bringing a fruit basket with her.
As soon as she entered, she saw Yan Heng sleeping, leaning against the chair back. His head was bowed, his fringe falling forward, partly covering his eyes. He wore a black sweater and looked somewhat pale.
Zhu Yaya thought for a moment, put the fruit basket aside, took off her own scarf, squatted in front of Yan Heng, and very carefully wrapped her scarf around him, covering him. This scarf was knitted by Zhao Jing herself, red and black, very thick and much warmer than store-bought scarves.
After covering Yan Heng with the scarf, she was drawn to the bags under his eyes. She leaned forward slightly, getting closer to look.
As she leaned in, she met Yan Heng's gaze. Her heart fluttered in panic, and she started to lean back, but Yan Heng promptly supported her waist.
"How did you get here?" His voice was slightly hoarse from just waking up.
So dreamy!
The tips of Zhu Yaya's ears turned red.
Using Yan Heng's support, she stood up first. Yan Heng gestured to her, indicating they should talk outside.
Mother Yan was still resting.
Zhu Yaya obediently followed Yan Heng out of the ward into the corridor. Outside, the corridor had blue plastic benches. They sat down there.
"How did you know?" Yan Heng spoke first.
Zhu Yaya took out the crumpled medical report from her pocket and handed it to Yan Heng.
He gave a slight, wry smile: "So you saw this."
"Brother Yan, why didn't you tell us? When did this happen?" Zhu Yaya asked softly.
Yan Heng remained silent.
Zhu Yaya sighed inwardly. She knew what kind of person Yan Heng was. He wanted to shoulder everything himself, didn't want to trouble others, and would just silently endure any hurt alone. But no matter how capable he was, he was still just a minor high school student.
She reached out her hand and took Yan Heng's hand. His hand was bony, large, but also very rough, with some scratches and calluses.
Yan Heng's eyelashes trembled slightly. An indescribable emotion surged from the depths of his heart instantly. He did not refuse.
Holding his hand, Zhu Yaya looked up at Yan Heng very seriously and said, "Brother Yan, you've saved me and helped me so many times, and we've been spending time together all these days, so we're friends, right?"
Yan Heng looked down at her earnest face, his gaze momentarily dazed: "Mm."
"If we're friends, we should share both fortune and hardship, and be honest with each other. Before, when I was in trouble, you appeared and helped me. So now that you're facing difficulties, I should help you too!"
Then, he heard her say: "Brother Yan, don't always try to shoulder everything alone. You're not alone; you still have us!"
He saw his own reflection in her clear eyes.
Yan Heng's pupils contracted slightly, his expression complex as he kept looking at Zhu Yaya. His thin lips moved, and just when Zhu Yaya thought he was about to speak about Mother Yan, he said: "Can you smile for me?"
Zhu Yaya felt her brain couldn't quite keep up with Yan Heng's rhythm and was a bit confused.
Huh?
At that moment, her mind was racing, and a song suddenly started playing on a loop in her head: "Take your song back home with you, but please leave your smile behind..."
Zhu Yaya: Damn, I almost sang it out loud.
