Chapter 3: "Where You Are, Where My Heart Is" (1/2)

Translator: Ruriko

A violent pain ripped through Zhishu He's whole body when he was climbing the stairs of the apartment, as if numerous thorns were growing in his bone and waves of pain penetrated every pore. Although Zhishu He had the very strong tolerance, he could not stand this pain so that he almost wanted to kill himself to get rid of it.

Zhishu He struggled to reach his house with the orchid in his arms. After he walked in the door, he immediately leant against the wall, feeling dizzy. He gasped for air and his body was awash with a cold sweat.

He had liked to collect various beautiful glass bottles for appreciation since he was still a student, but now all the bottles were used to hold his medicines. There were different pills in different bottles. Misfortune was hidden in beauty and no one could see it.

Zhishu He was too tired to heat up the water. He poured himself a cup of cold water and took the medicines. He huddled in bed and put his chin on the knees. The pain didn't relieve as if it had rooted deeply in his abdominal cavity. He was thin and his cheeks were hollow.

Wenxu Jiang hadn't been home for 19 days. This was the first time he stayed out for so long. Zhishu He missed him all the time. A few days ago, he went to hospital for the bone marrow puncture. When he was waiting in the corridor, he heard the sobs of other patients clearly. But he was very calm and just asked the nurse one question-”Can I stand up after doing this? I need to go home by myself.” He was afraid that Wenxu Jiang would be worried if he came home and didn't see him.

Zhishu He got a splitting headache, with his fingers curling and brows knitted. At this point, he was just like a drowning man who was so desperate because he failed to catch the driftwood anyway. He couldn't sleep, so he got out of the bed and unlocked the desk drawer. There was a book lying in it.

He carefully took it out, went to the living room, and then sat down on the sofa. It was an old book of Zheng Jane's essays. He gently opened the book while a faint gentle smile appeared on his face.

The pages had yellowed with age. But on the first page, the sentence transcribed by Wenxu Jiang was still clear and firm. His handwriting was flowing and graceful--

”Where you are, where my heart is.”

Fourteen years ago, a tall young boy gave Zhishu He this book, flushing up to the ears, and said in a stiff tone, ”I have heard that you like Zheng Jane's essays, so I bought this book for you. I hope you will like it... and like me too!” Until now, Zhishu He still remembered Wenxu Jiang's shy face and loving eyes.

Everything changed now, including the boy. Zhishu He bit his lips and held the book tightly in his arms. Then he curled up on the sofa, staring at the door with vacant eyes. He didn't cry but his heart was like dead ashes.