Chapter 95 (1/2)
Edited by: JaJeSa
He Nuo strolled idly and leisurely all the way back home. After he completed a set of review papers, he felt like he had gotten too many questions wrong and was being quite inefficient. So he simply pulled out a bundle of scrapped books (He Nuo had saved up all the papers he had finished to sell them off, and it was unnecessary to explain where the money had gone), then began to write down its contents from memory. Every time he silently finished reciting ⟪Remembering Your Charm — Remembrance of the Tale of the Crimson Cliff⟫, he would pick the text up to admire it for awhile, then flip to a new page to begin reciting the next one. He didn’t stop his fanaticism for classical poetry until lunch time.
When it was time for dinner, He Nuo was surprised that time would fly by so fast, it seemed as if he hadn’t finished digesting his lunch before it was time to eat again. While He Nuo sat down after scooping his second bowl of rice, his younger brother asked, out of curiosity, “He Nuo, how are you able to eat so much today?”
He Nuo laughed in embarrassment, “I still have some homework left to finish at night, so I wanted some extra nutrition.”
His parents said that if he couldn’t stomach it all down now then he shouldn’t force himself to. If he became hungry at night, he could soak some of the cooked rice in soup or cook some noodles.
After dinner, He Nuo tidied up the kitchen before returning to his room. Just as he sat down, he sprang back up like a rocket. He held his mouth and ended up vomiting before he could even run out the door, catching his vomit with both hands. Because He Nuo had suppressed himself from outright vomiting all contents, some of the vomit choked his trachea, triggering an earth-shattering bout of coughs that drew his younger brothers’, and then his parents’, attention.
He Nuo was bending over, but he waved his hand to motion that he was okay. He accepted the water that his mother handed over and, after downing a few mouthfuls, he stood straight back up, apologetically telling them that he had eaten too much.
“You’re this old already, yet you still can’t tell how full or hungry you are? Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” His father shook his head, “Wait a little ba. When you feel better and if you get hungry, then you can go eat a bit more.”
He Nuo nodded in embarrassment, then grabbed a broom to clean up the mess on the ground. After he was done tidying it up, he leaned on one side, muttering to himself, “If you eat more you’ll have the strength to study more too. It’s time to sprint, He Nuo. Grasp this chance well. In front of you is a vast sea that you can leap into, and a boundless sky that you can freely fly through. You don’t need tears for this battle.”
He walked to his table and picked up the small calendar on it. Shi Yan had brought this over after the 22nd of February. He Nuo flipped to the page where the first star in it was drawn; this calendar had it the moment Shi Yan brought the calendar over, and it was the only star that Shi Yan had drawn in it. He Nuo added all the subsequent stars under Shi Yan’s coercion. In the mornings following their passionate collisions, Shi Yan would ask He Nuo to record down one or two stars (according to the number of times they got it on). He Nuo drew a star for today’s date————… a shooting star.
After he was done with all these, He Nuo kept the calendar and the conch shell on his table in his cabinet, then began to study.
On Monday, He Nuo approached learning in a state of valour. He acted as if someone had injected him with a stimulant as he threw himself into his work without the slightest intention of sleeping.
On Tuesday, He Nuo discovered that there were times when even adages could be wrong: “there is no end to learning but it feels bitter to build a boat for it” was totally inconsistent with the actual situation. He Nuo roamed about freely in the ocean of learning and got completely engrossed in it. This behavior made his younger brother, who woke up at 3am, tell his parents that He Nuo probably owed quite a bit of homework, so he was doing a crash job.
On Wednesday, under the supervision of his parents, he stopped when the clock struck 12. He slept well for the entire night, yet his eyes were bloodshot.
On Thursday, He Nuo was the last person to walk out of his classroom. When he was walking down the stairs, he suddenly fell down for no reason. With no one in the corridor, he shamelessly lied on the ground and didn’t get up. He realised that some liquid had been flung out of his eyes because of his tumble — it was salty. “You’re so fucking delicate!” He Nuo dissed himself, then patted the dust off his body.
On Friday, as He Nuo pulled out some clothes to change into, he accidentally tugged onto a small bag that he appeared to have tucked away a few days ago. This iron forged robot had short-circuited; but unfortunately, the body underneath this iron forged shell was still a mortal one — which human could be without consciousness or feelings, which human could live without happiness or sadness? He Nuo admitted that his cultivation was lacking, because right now, this small bag had shaken his internal organs into bits and pieces as it turned his insides into a hideous mess.
On Saturday morning, He Nuo was startled awake. He opened his windows to welcome the sunrise. The dark blue clouds in the sky were gradually inlaid with a golden lace. When the first ray of sunlight illuminated the world, the scorching red wheel rose into the sky, and rays of light burst forth, washing away all darkness in the clear, blue sky. “Shi Yan, I’m sorry.”