Chapter 2

Chapter 2

When Zhou Yan was eighteen, he uploaded a song to QQ Music as a birthday gift for me.

Within just a week of being uploaded, “Listen, Flowers Bloom” swept across every major music platform.

In the lyrics’ description, he wrote: “This song is for my girlfriend. She was once unable to speak due to trauma, but now she can finally find her voice. To me, her voice is as meaningful as flowers blooming are to spring.”

Later, many reporters interviewed Zhou Yan and asked him who the song was written for.

He never answered that question.

That was until three months ago, when a reporter asked about his love life.

He suddenly said, “I have a girlfriend. It’s still the same person from when I was eighteen.”

That single sentence blew up the trending searches.

Fans did everything in their power to dig up his past, wanting to see exactly who that person he loved at eighteen was.

More than anything, they wanted to see who was worth Zhou Yan’s devotion for six years.

Qu Xiaofu called me and demanded, “Xiang Kui, is this the scene you wanted to see today? Do you want everyone to know that Zhou Yan almost went to prison for you? Do you have any idea how much manpower and money I spent to erase his past? Do you even know how much Zhou Yan sacrificed to get to where he is today?”

I knew. I had always known.

He went abroad to study music, where he faced language barriers, exclusion, and verbal abuse.

He broke down everything he previously knew about music and started learning from scratch like an elementary student.

He was rejected, questioned, and mocked.

As proud and defiant as he was, he gritted his teeth and learned word by word.

In just two years, he returned having completed his studies, only because he had been cramming two days’ worth of work into one.

Before returning to the country, he called me. As he spoke, he began to cry. “Little Mute, I can finally go back to see you. I missed you so much.”

His current success did not come easily.

Zhou Yan’s contract with the company stipulated that he was absolutely forbidden from announcing a relationship before the contract expired.

If he breached the contract, he would face astronomical liquidated damages and be blacklisted.

Zhou Yan had said those things to the reporters because the company was constantly hyping up a manufactured romance between him and Qu Xiaofu.

He wanted to rebel a little, and incidentally, test his fans’ attitudes.

Privately, Zhou Yan told me, “The company went too far this time. They sent people to take secret photos of me and Qu Xiaofu, maliciously picking certain angles to release for hype. They just want to tie me and Qu Xiaofu together. Even if I deliberately said that to the media, the company will suppress it with PR. Only by making a scene will they stop the endless hype. Xiang Kui, don’t worry. I won’t lose my heart to anyone but you.”

There was absolute trust between Zhou Yan and me. I wasn’t jealous over Qu Xiaofu; I only felt heartache because his rebellion resulted in the company piling even more work on him.

After Qu Xiaofu found me, she said, “Xiang Kui, I understand now. No matter how I pressure Zhou Yan, it’s useless. In this relationship, Zhou Yan will only give up if you are the one to take the initiative to leave.”

So, after being diagnosed with cancer, I logged into my account and deleted the description for “Listen, Flowers Bloom.”

I took the initiative to break up with Zhou Yan because I was afraid he would be left all alone after I died.

We spent the first half of our lives wandering and displaced; for the second half, I wanted him to stand on that stage and live on with pride.

***

At the hospital, I refused the doctor’s chemotherapy plan.

When Liu Ziming found out, he sighed. “Looking at you like this, I really don’t know whether to say you have a good mindset or if you’ve just given up on yourself. I haven’t told Mom and Dad about your illness yet. I don’t know how to bring it up.”

I smiled and said nothing.

Liu Ziming gazed at me for a long while before saying, “You were only sixteen when you came to our home. You were wearing a blue dress, fair-skinned and quiet. Later, after you learned to speak, you ran into me in the living room. I stood by your side and didn’t leave, and it took you a long time before you slowly called me ‘Brother Ziming.'”

“I never told you, but when you were practicing speaking on your bedroom balcony, I could actually hear you from downstairs. You practiced calling for Uncle Liu, Aunt Liu, and Brother Ziming over and over. Many times, because you didn’t practice well, you would cry quietly in frustration. I could hear it all.”

Hearing this, I looked at him in surprise. “Oh?” I said. “Then back then, you were always cornering me and forcing me to chat with you.”

Liu Ziming laughed. “That was a mission Mom and Dad gave me. They hoped you could communicate more with people at home, so that you’d at least have normal social interactions at school and wouldn’t be bullied.”

I froze, tears welling up in my eyes.

“Xiang Kui, say a proper goodbye to Mom and Dad,” Liu Ziming said as he pulled me into a hug and patted my back.

I whispered, “Okay.”

I returned to the Liu Family home. Aunt and Uncle’s eyes were red and swollen. They didn’t ask about my condition; they simply gave me a hug.

During dinner, they still teased me to get me to talk.

At night, as I sat on the balcony looking at the stars, I received another message from Zhou Yan.

[Didn’t you say you’d never come to my concerts? Why are you asking for tickets this time? Two tickets-who are you coming with?]

It just so happened that Liu Ziming came up to bring me some fruit.

After a moment’s thought, I took a photo of Liu Ziming and sent it to him: [With my boyfriend.]

Zhou Yan’s phone calls immediately started bombarding me, but I didn’t answer.

Liu Ziming looked over, sighed, and patted my arm in comfort.

Another half hour passed before Zhou Yan sent a WeChat message: “Xiang Kui, I will announce my marriage to Qu Xiaofu at the concert. Congratulations to you on having a new start as well. I suppose this counts as an amicable split for both of us.”

I stared at it for a while and did not reply.