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墨書 Inktalez
When Jiang Xiaoyu woke up, I had already cooked the congee.
He sat up weakly in bed, staring blankly at the wall.
I walked over and touched his forehead; thankfully, the fever had subsided.
"Are you awake? If you're awake, go brush your teeth and wash your face, then come eat."
I turned to leave, but he suddenly grabbed the hem of my shirt and said hoarsely, "I want to brush my teeth first."
"…Okay, I'll get you a toothbrush."
His limbs were weak, and even bending down was difficult for him. I had no choice but to hand him the toothbrush while holding a cup of water in front of him. "Open your mouth."
He looked at me silently without saying a word.
I squeezed some toothpaste onto the brush and put it in his mouth, then took the cup from him. "Spit!"
He spat out the mouthwash, and I put the toothbrush back in. "Brush again."
"…"
After he finished washing up, I helped him sit at the dining table and handed him the congee. "Give it a try; I specially added some meat floss. It tastes pretty good."
He nodded slightly. "Thank you."
After we finished eating, I cleared the dishes. "I have class in the afternoon; can you stay in the dorm by yourself?"
"Mm."
"Call me if you need anything, or come to the office to find me."
"Okay."
I walked out of the dormitory with my bowl and chopsticks, turning back to look at him. "What do you want to eat? I'll make it for you when I get back from class."
He thought for a moment. "I want the vegetable and egg noodles from last night."
I laughed. "You really love those vegetable and egg noodles, huh? Alright, I'll make them for you when I get back from class."
"Sounds good."
As I reached the door, he suddenly called out to me, "Sister Song Jia—"
I turned back to him. "What is it?"
"…Nothing."
I shifted my gaze away and left with my bowl and chopsticks.
Jiang Xiaoyu stood by the window, watching Song Jia's figure disappear from view before reluctantly pulling his gaze back.
He sat back down on the bed and took out his phone from under the pillow.
The phone screen displayed a note—
[I saw her.]
[She smiled at me.]
"She said to call her sister."
"She cooked noodles for me."
"I am very happy."
Jiang Xiaoyu stared at the words on the screen, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
He exited the memo and opened the calendar.
Today is May 3rd, and there are thirty-five days until June 7th.
...
In the evening, the rain stopped.
I washed the dishes and prepared to deliver food to Jiang Xiaoyu.
Zhao Ming came in from outside and asked me with a smile, "Teacher Song, are you going to deliver food to Teacher Jiang again?"
I nodded, "He wasn't feeling well and didn't eat lunch, so I cooked him some noodles."
Zhao Ming walked over to help me wash the pot, "Teacher Jiang's health is really poor; he caught a cold just from one rain. What will he do in the future?"
"Who knows? Anyway, Principal Chen and Teacher Zhu are worried about him."
Zhao Ming suddenly leaned closer and lowered his voice to ask me, "Teacher Song, what do you think of Teacher Jiang?"
"What do you mean?"
"What's wrong with the person?"
I thought for a moment and replied, "He's okay, not very talkative, but he's a nice person."
"Do you like him?"
I was taken aback. "Why would you ask that? He's my brother."
Zhao Ming chuckled, "Not by blood, so there's room for development."
I rolled my eyes. "You're crazy."
After saying that, I walked away with my tray.
Zhao Ming stood there, looking confused. "Crazy? What do you mean?"
Jiang Xiaoyu was burning up again.
I fed him his medicine, set the food container aside, and couldn't help but complain, "What's wrong with you? Did you forget to take your medicine?"
His eyes were slightly red, looking at me with glistening eyes like a small animal that had been wronged but didn't dare to speak up.
My heart skipped a beat, and I suddenly felt at a loss. "Why... why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying," he stubbornly retorted.
"Then why are your eyes red?"
"Because of the fever."
I sighed helplessly and took out a tissue to wipe away his tears. "Alright, stop crying. If you keep this up, you'll make yourself silly."
He awkwardly turned his head away, avoiding my gaze.
I knew he was pretending to be asleep again.
Every time he pretended to sleep, I would stay by his side until he actually fell asleep.
But today was different.
"You can sleep first. I need to go help my students with their homework. I'll leave once you're asleep."
He didn't respond, but I saw his shoulders twitch slightly.
I reached out and touched his forehead; it was still very warm.
"Tell me where it hurts. No hiding anything."
He remained silent.
I stared at him for a while and sighed helplessly. "Then I'm leaving."
I stood up and started to walk out when a hoarse voice suddenly came from behind me. "I don't feel well."
I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at him.
He was curled up under the blanket, with only half of his face visible, looking at me pitifully.
I walked over and gently asked him, "Where do you not feel well?"
"I'm having a headache."
"What else?"
"Sore throat."
"Is there anything else?"
He nodded and then shook his head.
I was speechless. "So, is there or isn't there?"
He fell silent again.
I raised my hand and slapped his forehead. "If you make me ask a third time, I'll hit you."
He shuddered and finally spoke up. "I feel like throwing up."
In the end, I ran to the kitchen and made him a bowl of ginger soup, forcing him to drink it. "Drink this ginger soup and sweat it out; you'll feel better by tomorrow."
He lowered his eyes and nodded silently.
"Alright, go to sleep. I'll leave once you fall asleep."
He lay down, curling up under the blanket, leaving only his eyes visible as he looked at me.
I felt uncomfortable under his gaze. "Close your eyes."
He obediently closed his eyes.
After a while, he opened his eyes again.
I raised my hand and slapped him, pushing him back under the covers. "Try opening your eyes again."
He curled up under the blanket and remained still for a long time.
I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for quite a while without seeing him come out. Thinking he had fallen asleep, I quietly stood up and walked toward the door.
Just as I reached the doorway, a faint voice suddenly came from behind me. "Sister Song Jia."
I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at him.
He was lying on the bed, his dark eyes quietly gazing at me. "Why did you come here to teach?"
"I came because I wanted to."
"Why did you want to come?"
"I never thought about it; I just wanted to do whatever I felt like doing. What, do you have an opinion?"
He shook his head, then nodded.
"What does that mean?"
"I originally planned to go abroad, but I couldn't bear to leave you, so I came back."
I scratched the armrest of the chair with my fingertips, remaining silent.
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