Chapter 2 (1/2)

Translator: Jane

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Chapter 2

He Zhishu's sleep was uneasy and he woke up still feeling exhausted. He got up and swallowed a handful of colorful tablets with cool water. He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror; the person staring right back at him was pale, restless and miserable. He washed his face with cold water and wiped it with a towel. From his closet he got out a thick jacket and this he wore.

When he went out his cell phone rang and was disappointed by who the caller was. It was the doctor, persuading him to come for therapy.

“Thank you, I will consider it.” he replied.

The owner of the wonton stall was already packing and leaving when he noticed He Zhishu coming.

“It's been a long time since last you came by!” he said with a smile.

He Zhishu sat at the table and replied with a smile, “I became lazy. When I moved to my new home I didn't feel like going out.”

The owner's wife came and gave He Zhishu hot water. She glanced at him a few times and seemed slightly distressed.

“Son, have you been working too much? How did you get this thin?” she asked.

He Zhishu only replied with a smile. In truth he wasn't very busy. It was the weight in his heart that was crus.h.i.+ng his body.

A bowl of wonton was served.  He bowed his head and scooped with his spoon the seaweed floating in his soup. The steam of the soup soaked his eyes. For more than a decade this stall has never changed its price, but when he took a bite he knew that the stuffing of the wonton had lessened.

The same could be said of Jiang Wenxu.

Despite having no appet.i.te, He Zhishu still managed to finish all the wonton. He dared not look up, afraid that someone might see him crying. He suddenly remembered when he first came to Beijing with Jiang Wenxu. Back then, life was hard for the two of them. Often they could afford only a single wonton and this they would share. They would not touch it until He Zhishu divided the wonton in two, only then would Jiang Wenxu dare touch his spoon. He remembers how Jiang Wenxu's tears fell onto the soup that day, and how he promised that someday it will all be better and that he would never let him down.

Perhaps this is the nature of a promise. When someone makes a promise sometimes they forget it but the listener remembers.

He Zhishu wept in silence, but when he went inside the public restroom he could no longer hold it back. He burst into tears and cried.

How could he not be afraid? He Zhishu was afraid of loneliness, of disappointment, and of walking alone in the long corridor of the hospital. He sat before the doctor and looked down at the pot of orchids that Doctor Ai grew himself. He advised He Zhishu to receive chemotherapy as soon as possible. The sooner he is treated the better his chances of recovery would be. He Zhishu did not respond and the doctor did not urge him. He Zhishu took a moment to reign his emotions, then looked up, smiled and spoke.

“I am afraid of hards.h.i.+ps... especially now I can't support myself.”