NB Chapter87

Zhang Xiaoyuan has been feeling a bit depressed lately.

Once, he had truly believed that Yu Shi’er would never fall in love, never get married, and certainly never have another child. This was because he had once indirectly asked this adult, who had suddenly appeared in his life and accompanied him as he slowly grew up, “Why don’t you date anyone?”

At the time, Yu Shi’er was folding clothes, tucking the sleeves inward before rolling the garment over several times to finish neatly.

Hearing the question, he paused for a moment and asked, “Because I haven’t met the right person yet.”

Holding a crayon, Zhang Xiaoyuan drew a red triangle on a sheet of white paper and asked again, “What makes someone the right person?”

Yu Shi’er thought about it seriously and replied, “Someone who can just live a good life with me is the right person.”

“Is it very hard to find?” Zhang Xiaoyuan sat by the table while Yu Shi’er sat by the bed. The two of them were practically sitting back-to-back across the empty space without making any eye contact.

“It’s very hard to find; it depends on fate.” Yu Shi’er smiled and asked him in return, “What made you suddenly ask something like that?”

Zhang Xiaoyuan said, “If you get married, I won’t be able to stay at your place all the time.”

Yu Shi’er stood up, walked over, and pulled him into a hug from behind, saying, “I won’t get married. What’s the point of getting married? You have to give half of your assets to someone else.”

Yu Shi’er’s embrace was incredibly warm.

“What assets do you even have?” Zhang Xiaoyuan enjoyed it for a few seconds, then lifted his elbow with a look of disdain, trying to break free from the embrace.

Yu Shi’er was a complete paycheck-to-paycheck spender. He hadn’t bought a house, nor had he bought a car. Every other sergeant in the police station was smartly and glamorously dressed except for him. He spent all his money on daily enjoyment, completely unwilling to plan at all for the future.

“I do have them. How can you say I don’t?’ Yu Shi’er looked around, walked over to the windowsill, and held up a half-dead cactus. He said to Zhang Xiaoyuan, ‘Look, this is my asset. When I die, you have to take good care of it.”

On the surface, Zhang Xiaoyuan remained cool, letting out a cold snort without even lifting his head. He prided himself on being the most mature person in this household; Uncle Li Yi, who occasionally came over as a guest to spend the night was not a competitor in his eyes.

He was only a few years old, yet he already had to ponder major life choices for this thirty-something man. It was worrying and bitter, the children of the poor truly had to grow up fast and manage the household early.

However, thinking that Yu Shi’er might never get married still made Zhang Xiaoyuan a little happy. Though, this kind of happiness was something he could only hide in his heart and not voice out loud. Yu Shi’er was a policeman, someone who fought bad guys. Since he was staying at someone else’s house, he couldn’t be a selfish child. At least, not on the surface.

By now, Zhang Xiaoyuan understood in his heart that Yu Shi’er had treated him as his own child from the very beginning. For a boy with no parents, this was practically a gift from heaven. Although this adult had seemed a bit strange at first; always liking to scare him, then buying him gifts to make up for it afterwards and getting completely flustered the moment he burst into tears. In the end, Yu Shi’er was a good father.

Zhang Xiaoyuan suddenly froze and once again deleted the word “father” from his mind. He wasn’t going to proactively treat him as a father before Yu Shi’er spoke up first. The way things were now was also great. He, Uncle Li Yi, and Yu Shi’er; the three of them had a relationship so good they could swear brotherhood over an altar to Lord Guan. When he brought this up once, Yu Shi’er said he had read his Romance of the Three Kingdoms comic books for nothing. Humph, the truth was he hadn’t finished reading them at all.

Sometimes, Uncle Li Yi seemed more like the child. He also played video games, ate desserts, and loved watching martial arts dramas and cartoons. One summer, Zhang Xiaoyuan and he lay sprawled out all over the sofa to watch a movie. After watching for a long time, it felt a bit boring. Li Yi then suggested, “Why don’t we go play on the computer?” Zhang Xiaoyuan shook his head and said, “Uncle locked the computer up.”

Li Yi said, “It’s a piece of cake; I know my brother best.” After saying that, the two of them huddled in front of the computer trying passwords. As they kept trying, an entire afternoon slipped away.

The moment he saw the sunset flooding through the window, Zhang Xiaoyuan realized that the likelihood of Li Yi ever getting married was also very low. If Yu Shi’er didn’t want him anymore, he would still have another place to seek refuge.

Zhang Xiaoyuan had also met Sister Shanshan and Grandma a few times. After shyly calling them Grandma and Sister, he received two pots of orchids and a large red envelope. The red envelope was later snatched away by Uncle Li Yi, who said, “You can’t call Sister Shanshan ‘Sister,’ you have to call her ‘Auntie’.”

Uncle Li Yi’s emotional intelligence was truly so low. Sister Shanshan was beautiful, young, and so, so smart; smarter than Yu Shi’er and Li Yi put together. How could anyone just casually call her auntie?

However, Zhang Xiaoyuan didn’t voice this because he never got a chance to chime in at all.

After he started elementary school, because Zhang Xiaoyuan’s grades were outstanding, Yu Shi’er proposed that he would take time off work to take Zhang Xiaoyuan on a trip abroad and would pull Zhang Xiaoyuan out of school too.

Zhang Xiaoyuan’s eyes widened as he asked, “Do we have the money to buy plane tickets?”

Rather than worrying about missing school, he was more concerned about whether Yu Shi’er had the funds for a trip.

Yu Shi’er had a look of utter helplessness on his face. “Why do you always think I’m so poor?”

Zhang Xiaoyuan replied in a tone that is far too old and worldly for his age, “Because you spend all your money on me, and on eating out and enjoying yourself. You definitely haven’t saved much for yourself.”

Yu Shi’er sat cross-legged on the floor, opened the second drawer of the desk, and pulled out a box with a bank card inside.

He said, “I have enough money to give you a shock.”

Zhang Xiaoyuan didn’t argue with him and slowly walked out to drink his hot orange juice.

When he came back, he found Yu Shi’er looking down at the palm of his hand. Inside was a tiny, sparkling speck of something that looked like a diamond.

Wow, a hidden treasure.

However, compared to the shock of Yu Shi’er owning a diamond, Zhang Xiaoyuan cared much more about who had given him that necklace and why it made him stare at it for so long. It was winter now, and the light filtering in from outside had finally grown a bit colder. Yu Shi’er gazed at that diamond for a very long time, not lifting his head for a while.

A foreboding premonition welled up in Zhang Xiaoyuan’s heart: Oh no, he’s been heartbroken before.

Adults were always so arrogant and conceited. They had absolutely no idea that even in elementary school, there were mature kids who fell in love early, suffering through all the torment and hardships of romance within a few short years.

Zhang Xiaoyuan let out a sigh.

Though he hadn’t experienced it himself, he had seen his desk mate secretly crying after receiving a little breakup note.

From then on, no one would ever walk home with his desk mate after school to play with the puppies anymore. How cruel.

Yu Shi’er was a good person; a soft-hearted, genuinely kind one.

According to Zhang Xiaoyuan’s simple gaming experience, people like this often died a tragic and sudden death right in front of the main character, inspiring the protagonist to suddenly transform or gain the power needed to defeat the villain.

He, Zhang Xiaoyuan, was the protagonist of this game. He would never let Yu Shi’er die of a broken heart. Never.

Finally, the day of their trip arrived.

Yu Shi’er had gone to the orphanage beforehand to guarantee repeatedly that he would absolutely never do anything bad to Zhang Xiaoyuan. Even though he and the old director were old acquaintances, and his relationship with Zhang Xiaoyuan had been great for all these years, the old director was strictly upright and unyielding. He insisted that Yu Shi’er give repeated guarantees, made him sign no fewer than three written pledges, and even had Yu Shi’er find two fellow police officers to act as his guarantors.

The old director doted on Zhang Xiaoyuan the most, though it was unclear whether that had anything to do with Zhang Xiaoyuan helping him clear levels in Plants vs. Zombies.

And so, the two of them set off, stumbling along while lugging their two suitcases.

Yu Shi’er kept insisting that he had flown on planes and even traveled overseas before, but Zhang Xiaoyuan only took it as bragging. Gripping tightly onto Yu Shi’er’s jacket, he followed him rigidly, trailing after him wherever they went. The airport was huge, packed with people, and there were so many checkpoints to pass through.

Yu Shi’er was also very tense, looking as if he had never actually been there before in his life.

The flight itself was just a blur of sleeping fits and starts. The moment they stepped off the plane, they were in an unfamiliar place where tons of people were babbling in a strange language.

At first, Yu Shi’er tried to speak the local language, but he eventually gave up and switched to English.

“Didn’t you say you’ve been here before?” Zhang Xiaoyuan leaned in and whispered as Yu Shi’er crouched down.

“I have, but that wasn’t enough for me to cram an entire language in a short time. If you can do it, study hard; I’ve always thought of you as a genius.’ Yu Shi’er pulled some tissues out of his bag, wiped the sweat from Zhang Xiaoyuan’s face, and said, “Alright, don’t be so nervous. I really have been here before.”

Zhang Xiaoyuan didn’t quite believe him at first. But later, Yu Shi’er seemed to catch a second wind; hailing cabs, catching buses, and smoothly leading him all the way to the hotel with such practiced ease that it almost looked as though Yu Shi’er had once come here to hunt down a criminal.

In that instant, Zhang Xiaoyuan’s chest swelled with pure admiration for him.

It wasn’t until they entered the hotel room and Yu Shi’er tossed his phone aside, flopping spread-eagle onto the bed, that Zhang Xiaoyuan discovered Yu Shi’er had been chatting with someone the entire time. The person on the other end had provided a completely flawless, step-by-step itinerary.

“Who is… Ah Hai?” Zhang Xiaoyuan held the phone while crawling over to Yu Shi’er’s side.

“A friend of mine who runs a breakfast diner is incredible at planning travel itineraries. Tomorrow, I’ll rent a car and take you to a hot spring, then to the zoo. Do you want to go skiing? Ah Hai said the ski resort is great for kids.” Yu Shi’er said lazily, his eyes closed.

Why would a friend who runs a breakfast diner be good at making travel itineraries?

Zhang Xiaoyuan was deeply suspicious, but he didn’t ask out loud.

But on second thought, maybe “running a breakfast diner” was code for being undercover.

Since they were police, there were a lot of things they couldn’t just say directly.

He got it, he understood.

“Are we not going to look at the snow?” Zhang Xiaoyuan looked at Yu Shi’er’s tired face and asked innocently.

“You can look at snow anywhere,” Yu Shi’er said. “As long as it snows.”

“Why do you like snow so much anyway?” Zhang Xiaoyuan awkwardly leaned over and poked his face with his index finger, only for Yu Shi’er to grab his hand in a flash.

The two of them immediately started wrestling and rolling around together, bursting into laughter.

Yu Shi’er held him tightly and said, “Because snow can change the world into something completely different, a brand-new look.”

Zhang Xiaoyuan looked at his own fingers and thought about it for a moment. As if he had made up his mind about something, he nodded and said, “Alright then, I’ll accompany you to watch the snow. We won’t go to tourist spots or crowded places; we’ll just find a path and walk slowly.”

“Of course we’re still going to the tourist spots,” Yu Shi’er laughed out loud before giving him a hard shake. “We spent money on this; how can we just take a random stroll and leave?”

“Hmph, you don’t understand romance at all.” Zhang Xiaoyuan turned his head away indignantly.

“Still, you actually have a point.” Yu Shi’er let go of him, spreading his limbs out and looking up at the ceiling as he said, “I also like walking slowly. Walking alone, not having to talk, not needing to stop… just keep on walking.”

“You’ll always run into people eventually,” Zhang Xiaoyuan said, deliberately contradicting him. “There isn’t a street in the whole wide world that only lets one person walk on it.”

“Why do you absolutely insist on talking like an adult?” Yu Shi’er was indeed riled up by him, letting out a laugh of sheer exasperation.

However, Yu Shi’er would never truly get mad at him.

Zhang Xiaoyuan knew this perfectly well.

As if the heavens were granting their wish, a massive snowfall suddenly blanketed the view outside the window the very next day. The weather here was completely different from Hong Kong; it possessed a quiet yet elegant intensity. The snow accumulated so deeply that when Zhang Xiaoyuan took a step into it, it practically buried his shins.

Yu Shi’er wrapped him up in a thick padded coat, then carefully put a hat and scarf on him, framing a small face that had finally filled out a little with healthy weight.

No matter how precocious or mature a child was, the moment they saw snow, they became just like a joyful puppy, dashing outside with total abandon.

Yu Fuchao strolled slowly behind with his hands buried deep inside his padded coat pockets.

Snow. Beautiful snow.

After all these years, he was finally seeing it.

In reality, life was still exhausting; breakfast, lunch, dinner, going to work, getting off work, and overtime again and again. Winters in Hong Kong could never hold onto snow. In all the rush, he only remembered a few hurried pedestrians wearing gray scarves, passing beneath the green street signs without ever lifting their heads.

In the blink of an eye, life had shifted into his thirties, and most people his age had already put on wedding rings.

Yet Yu Fuchao still had no desire to step into any kind of romance.

Having lived to this point in his life, what he longed for most was to see the snow; to watch its glow cast the windows in a bright, crystalline light, and to look outside upon an endless stretch of white, the snow vast and boundless, faintly tinged with an icy blue.

Yu Fuchao thought that for a person to stay alive, they must always rely on things that do not easily dissipate to sustain themselves.

It was just like how some people love trees and enjoy the silent growth of plants. Whenever the wind and rain arrived, setting the branches and leaves beyond the window trembling, only then would you realize that you had never truly known it; that a tree was something you could never fully understand.

That was why it looked like eternity.

Dressed in swallow-blue clothes, Zhang Xiaoyuan darted and skipped through the heavy, drifting snowflakes.

Yu Fuchao felt comforted; he had finally succeeded in raising Zhang Xiaoyuan well. There were no secrets between them anymore, not even a single trace of resentment left.

Watching the snow fill the sky, Yu Fuchao asked himself in his heart: does time wear everything away?

Yu Fuchao actually didn’t know either. Sometimes, he also desperately wished that the difficult problems he once faced would appear again so that he could know whether he had a new solution and whether he had completely let go.

Just as he was thinking this, he suddenly saw Zhang Xiaoyuan turning around to look at him.

Before he could call out “What’s wrong?” Yu Fuchao felt something bump against his leg.

He looked down and found it was a child.

He hurriedly squatted down and held the child’s shoulders.

The child was wearing a hat with little bear ears while wiping her eyes with her hands. She was crying pitifully with her cheeks flushed bright red as she whimpered softly, “Mommy, I want Mommy.”

She was not a local child.

“Mommy? Where’s your mommy?” Yu Fuchao gently caught her hands to stop her from rubbing her eyes again, if she wasn’t careful, dirt could easily get into them.

When the little girl looked up, a pair of round eyes appeared before Yu Fuchao.

Seeing these eyes, Yu Fuchao’s heart nearly stopped.

Close behind came the footsteps of an adult. Tall and dressed in a black trench coat, he carried an air of quiet elegance. Hurrying through the snow, he apologized in Japanese as he crouched down and gathered the little girl into his arms. After checking to see if she was hurt, he held her close and said, ‘Keke bb, be good.’

The man wore glasses, their lenses already speckled with countless snowflakes.

He did not spare Yu Fuchao a single glance, his entire attention fixed on his sobbing daughter. In English, he apologized once again, saying, “I’m sorry, my daughter can be a little headstrong.”

Yu Fuchao didn’t make a sound.

It felt as though an entire ocean had surged into his heart, and at that very moment, the tide was beginning to rise.

Passersby walked past from time to time, casting curious glances.

As the man picked his daughter up, Yu Fuchao rose to his feet accordingly.

Zhang Xiaoyuan walked back slowly. Noticing his father’s distraction, he carefully grabbed the corner of Yu Fuchao’s jacket, looked up at him, and said, “Dad, what’s wrong?”

The two of them had agreed beforehand that when traveling outside, Zhang Xiaoyuan would call him ‘Dad.’ This way, it would be harder to get separated, and people wouldn’t constantly suspect Yu Fuchao of being a criminal suspect.

“Oh, you guys are from Hong Kong.” The man said, immediately switching languages the moment he heard Zhang Xiaoyuan speak, lifting his gaze at the same time.

“En.” Yu Fuchao said before lowering his head and tightly gripping Zhang Xiaoyuan’s hand.

Zhang Xiaoyuan had no idea what was happening.

He only noticed that Yu Shi’er had suddenly fallen silent, his movements slowing as a trace of sorrow quietly settled over his face.

The man suddenly stopped talking as well. He stared at Yu Fuchao as if time had instantly frozen.

So many snowflakes had clearly fallen on his glasses; what could he possibly see through those blurred lenses? Yet he stared for so long, not even thinking of taking his glasses off.

Yu Shi’er also seemed to have gone a little foolish, unexpectedly reaching out his fingers to wipe them away.

The more he wiped, the blurrier the lenses became, so Zhang Mingsheng simply took them off altogether.

He looked at the person before him, at that face both familiar and unfamiliar, and only then did he realize that a chance encounter and a carefully arranged meeting were utterly different; so completely different. Over the years, his heart had ached many times, but never like today; this time it felt as though it had stopped entirely, suspended midair within his chest.

He had grown a little thinner, his gaze more composed, his complexion healthy. That face, that person, standing in the snow, somehow looked even more alive, fuller of vitality.

So beautiful.

Zhang Mingsheng was nearly speechless.

He had never been unable to utter a single word like this.

Yu Fuchao looked exceptionally calm with only his eyes damp, though it was unclear if it was because of the snow. He was using the back of his hand to gently, so gently, brush across Keke’s cheek.

Keke hid herself in Zhang Mingsheng’s arms while silently watching the person before her with faint tear stains still lingering on her cheeks.

Yu Fuchao looked at her, unconsciously letting out a stiff, unfamiliar smile.

“Why are you wearing glasses?” His eyes were on the child, but the words were thrown to Zhang Mingsheng.

Zhang Mingsheng glanced at the folded glasses in his hand, smiled slightly, and said, “It’s nothing. Just happened to be wearing them.”

He was still the same, not much had changed as if he wouldn’t grow old. It was just that the aura of a man in his thirties had quietly infused from his soul, adding a more relaxed presence to his handsome, sharp features.

Yu Fuchao didn’t speak again. He tightened his grip on Zhang Xiaoyuan’s hand with his gaze lingering on Keme for a long time.

Seeing Xiao Yuan, Zhang Mingsheng looked down and offered him an approachable smile.

The little boy immediately hid behind Yu Fuchao. He had only ever seen men like this on television, and suddenly encountering one in real life felt frightening.

But Yu Fuchao said nothing.

At last, Zhang Mingsheng found his voice again and forced down the heart that had been lodged in his throat. In a low, gentle voice, he asked, “Are you well?”

In the pure white, freezing snow of a foreign land, he could finally ask: How are you?

Snowflakes drifted past their cheeks, settling lightly on their shoulders.

“I’m fine.” Yu Fuchao replied just as softly.

Everything was exceptionally peaceful, yet something seemed to be running wildly within an expansive heart. Whether it was a spark of fire or a soul, Yu Fuchao couldn’t tell.

“What a coincidence.” Yu Fuchao laughed as if thinking of something amusing.

Seeing him laugh, Zhang Mingsheng laughed along with him and said, “Yeah, what a coincidence.”

Zhang Xiaoyuan didn’t understand why they were laughing, and so he kept his head lifted while watching them with quiet curiosity.

The snow was indeed beautiful, enveloping the entire world within it.

At that moment, Zhang Xiaoyuan had no idea how the scene unfolded before him could alter his life. He was still too young; he might have known how to use a computer, but he did not yet understand how human emotions moved and intertwined.

It wasn’t until much later, after he had moved into Maplewood Bay, that on a certain evening he walked barefoot past a room with floor-to-ceiling French windows.

Outside, the tree branches swayed softly in the wind. Half of the window was filled with lush green, while the other half was bathed in the blazing sunset glow of dusk. Beyond that, the sea stretched into view.

Yu Shi’er was speaking in a low voice with that man. The two of them sat together with their shoulders touching.

Zhang Xiaoyuan couldn’t hear clearly, but he could see.

In the next second, the man named Zhang Mingsheng suddenly leaned closer. They were drawn so near. With their silhouetted against the light, their figures almost became a single shadow.

Yu Shi’er didn’t move at all. He merely tilted his head, looking at the man.

Without knowing what happened, even though they said absolutely nothing and just looked at each other, they suddenly began to kiss.

Zhang Xiaoyuan immediately covered his eyes and turned to run away.

He ran into Keke in the living room; she was dragging a rabbit plushie along the floor while rubbing her sleepy eyes.

Keke called out to him, “Gege, where is Mommy?”

Zhang Xiaoyuan’s intense sense of responsibility instantly grew wildly. He picked Keke up with some effort and took her with him to the toy room.

It looked like he, Zhang Xiaoyuan, was going to be the only mature adult around once again.