Chapter 97 (1/2)

He Nuo wandered all the way home before he ate what Qiu Linsong had bought for him. It’s not that he wasn’t hungry; but under the kind of situation where it was difficult to even turn around, if he had taken out his bread in the coach and began to chew on it, there was a high chance of it flying into other people’s mouth. Thus, he could only endure it until he got home, and he didn’t forget to consume the Apollo and Royal Jelly either. He had delivered Shi Yan’s savings to him, but He Nuo continued to consume the nutritional products that he had brought over as usual. Shi Yan had never cut off this supply.

During the past week, He Nuo’s heart had actually been consumed by exhaustion; he tried to stabilise himself mentally, but his body wouldn’t listen. He was really afraid that his hematuria would relapse, but unexpectedly, his body was holding up pretty well and didn’t hinder him. Looks like Shi Yan’s nutritional products were quite effective.

After classes ended on a Monday afternoon, Shi Yan and the rest returned to their dorm, then those getting food split up as they went their separate ways. They weren’t like the other students who would eat in the canteen before going back to their dorms. Instead, 3 or 4 people would go out to get everyone’s meals, then they would sit in their dorms and chat as they ate. Almost everyone had extra vacuum-packed food that their parents had sent over to serve as their side dishes.

When they passed by the reception office on the first floor of their dormitory, they were used to collecting letters. The guy in the reception office would divide the letters according to the dormitory room that they were addressed to, then students who came back in the afternoon would take it back with them to their dorms. Wang Feng took the letters for their dorm — there were only two — so when he accidentally saw the address inscribed on one of it, he immediately shouted, “San Ge. Yours.”

Shi Yan walked over to take it. Wang Feng handed it to him, but when he stretched his hand out he quickly retracted it when he saw the name in the middle of the envelope, “It’s Ah Song’s (Qiu Linsong)! He Nuo wrote a letter to Ah Song?!!”

Wang Feng felt puzzled. Although the people in their circle had an okay relationship with He Nuo — especially Qiu Linsong who had been in contact with He Nuo more often because of the infusions, but to be close to the point of exchanging letters? It still seemed a bit off, mainly because He Nuo wasn’t the type to take such an initiative. If you wanted to be friends with He Nuo, it wasn’t enough if you treated him well one-sidedly. He Nuo might look gentle and innocent on the outside, but he had set up a barrier around him; if he doesn’t open up that layer of protective film to accept an outsider, no one would be able to walk into it.

When Shi Yan saw the familiar handwriting on that envelope, he was absolutely certain that He Nuo had written it. He wasn’t the only one who could recognise He Nuo’s handwriting, all of his friends could too, and almost everyone in their high school cohort could recognise it as well — someone who was as gentle and kind as jade possessed a handwriting that looked like it could dominate the world. Many graduates in their year had asked He Nuo to help them copy the preface of their Graduation Message Book, all because his words were too suitable for a student who was about to enter college: “Run unbridledly through the four seas, the eagles are taking to the skies.”

Shi Yan had been curious before, how did he manage to write in such a way without any practice? And why were the words so incompatible with its writer — it was so unlike He Nuo’s personality. He still remembered He Nuo’s answer, “Words don’t come from one’s form, but the heart.” And his explanation to Shi Yan was: your characters have nothing to do with your appearance or personality; if this reason holds, then wouldn’t beautiful people have brushwork as gorgeous as Suzhou’s embroidery, and ugly people have words that look like the marks made by a struggling fly after it fell into a fountain pen’s ink bottle?

He Nuo thought that writing words was like writing your heart down, which was why his characters came from his heart. He had never formally practiced running scripts, regular scripts and the like1, but whenever he saw a word, he would have already thought about how to write it so that it would look its best. Afterwards, he would be able to use his hands to turn his imagination into reality. When your heart and hands are connected, writing your heart down would turn into a pleasurable activity. Because words are first outlined in the heart, so if the heart has a ravine, then your words would have a ravine; if your heart has a sea in it, then your words would also contain the sea.

And it was exactly because of He Nuo’s unique handwriting that Shi Yan and Wang Feng firmly believed that it was his letter without a doubt. Moreover, the address written below was that of their high school alma mater. Wang Feng wondered as he walked upstairs. A guess surfaced in his mind, and he felt that his guess was absolutely correct, so he chased up to Shi Yan with large strides, “San Ge, you’re fighting with He Nuo?”

“What do you mean?”

“He Nuo is asking Ah Song for help ba.” Wang Feng flicked the letter.

When Qiu Linsong took the letter after he returned, he wasn’t in a hurry to open it. He merely smiled as he praised, “He Nuo’s words look really confident and strong, how did he get a hand like that? The moment I saw his words, I thought of the Hukou Waterfall.” (another beneficiary of travels done at public expense)