Chapter Thirty-Eight: Illness and Tender Affection

Saturday morning, January 12, 1980. The weather was overcast.

Wutong Courtyard.

Cheng Kaiyan lay in bed, his head resting on a soft pillow, breathing in the fresh scent of sunlight and laundry detergent. He turned his head to look at the glass window, which was dotted with transparent raindrops. The drizzling rain had washed away the yellow dust brought by the sandstorms of the past few days, leaving the entire capital city clean and refreshed. Outside, gusts of wind made the branches and leaves in the courtyard rustle, lulling one toward sleep.

"Cough, cough... I didn't expect to catch a cold!" Cheng Kaiyan muttered, his voice muffled as he buried his pale face into the pillow.

Every word tugged at his throat, which felt as if it had been forcibly stuffed with shards of broken glass, causing a tearing pain. Even the old injury on his chest began to ache faintly.

"I shouldn't have pushed myself so hard. All I’ve done lately is write manuscripts; I’m absolutely exhausted!"

For the past ten days, Cheng Kaiyan had maintained an output of eight thousand characters a day, taking a massive toll on his mental and physical stamina. After finishing his manuscript yesterday, his tension had suddenly released. Combined with the mutton hotpot he’d eaten last night—which made him sweat—and the subsequent bike ride to mail the manuscript while exposed to the cold wind, he had woken up this morning to find himself ill.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

Outside the door, Xu Yuxiu knocked gently. She was puzzled; usually, he was up by now. Her son had been somewhat lazy growing up, but ever since returning from the army, he had become terrifyingly disciplined, rising at six o'clock every single day without fail. Even in the dead of winter, when she sometimes couldn't bring herself to get up, he was always punctual—it was a miracle.

"Kaiyan, why aren't you up yet? Didn't you usually get up early?"

Perhaps it was the sound of his coughing that caught her attention. Receiving no response, Xu Yuxiu pushed the door open and saw Cheng Kaiyan lying in bed, his complexion looking wrong.

"What's the matter? Did you catch a cold?" she asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"It's nothing, Mom. Just a small cold... cough, cough!" Cheng Kaiyan shook his head, his voice raspy and punctuated by suppressed coughs. Honestly, he had been too confident in this developing body of his, thinking he was made of iron.

"Oh, child, can a cold ever be a small thing? Don't be afraid. Tell Mom what's wrong; I'm here." Xu Yuxiu’s words were filled with a mix of scolding and deep, loving concern. She reached out to straighten his head, which was buried in the quilt, and stroked his cheek while looking into his eyes.

"Mm." Seeing the genuine care and worry on his mother's face, Cheng Kaiyan felt a warmth in his heart and nodded obediently. To be honest, this kind of sincere care was an experience he had never had before. Even when he had tested positive during the pandemic in his previous life, he had endured it all alone.

"Let Mom see if you have a fever. Don't hide!" Xu Yuxiu leaned in, ignoring his protests as she pressed her cool, delicate forehead against his.

Immediately, a wave of intense heat radiated from him. As expected, he had a fever.

"You rest for a bit. I'll go get you some medicine, and then I'll ask Old Man Yi from the alley entrance to come take a look. He’s an experienced doctor." Xu Yuxiu stood up, tucked the corners of the blanket around him, and left to the kitchen to fetch cold water, a clean towel, and fever medication.

*Splash.*

Hearing the water drip into the enamel basin, Cheng Kaiyan felt a wet towel placed on his forehead. The sudden coolness made him feel much more alert.

"Take the medicine and get some more sleep. I'm going to get Old Man Yi," she said, helping him take the medicine with a glass of warm water before heading out.

...

In a dreamlike haze, Cheng Kaiyan drifted off. He dreamt of memories from his childhood and his previous life, playing out like film frames in his mind.

*Sss—*

Suddenly, a sharp pain in his arm made him jolt awake. He saw a few bottles of white and yellow liquid hanging above him. His mother stood behind an old man in a white coat, who was currently trying to insert a needle as thick as a modern-day straw into his vein.

"Damn it! Old man, are you trying to kill me? That needle is huge!" Cheng Kaiyan gasped, his heart leaping into his throat. Anyone would be startled to wake up and find a strange old man holding a needle the size of a straw.

"Fever really does make you talk nonsense. Old Man Yi is a veteran doctor; how is he trying to kill you? I was going to have him give you an injection in the hip, but I thought since you're an adult now, that would be embarrassing, so we switched to an IV," Xu Yuxiu retorted with her arms crossed.

*An injection in the hip!* Forget it. Just thinking about it made Cheng Kaiyan feel weak. In these times, those injections weren't just a simple jab; while they worked quickly, you wouldn't be able to sit on a chair for at least three or four days.

After his mother's reminder, Cheng Kaiyan recalled that this Old Man Yi was the same one rumored in the alley to have had an affair with his daughter-in-law. He guessed the only reason the old man hadn't been socially ostracized was his medical skill—having apprenticed in Traditional Chinese Medicine before studying Western medicine. In these days, people didn't just head to the hospital for shots; many alleys had small clinics or local doctors. If someone was sick, they’d go straight to the doctor's home, and the doctor would make house calls.

By now, Old Man Yi had finished setting up the IV and was checking his pulse. He looked surprised. "How old is this boy?"

"He's just turned twenty-one. Why?"

The old man stroked his beard. "His kidney qi is very strong, his forehead is broad, and his pulse is like that of a child."

"A child?"

"Yes, it means his body is still developing. Most of his nutrients are going toward growth, which makes him as prone to illness as a child. Just feed him well; it's nothing serious. He should be fine in a couple of years. This boy will likely have a very healthy constitution and live longer than most people."

Old Man Yi wasn't surprised; he had seen all sorts of people in his practice. He packed his medical kit, collected one yuan and twenty cents for the visit—which included the cost of the medicine—and left.

"Being a doctor is definitely profitable..." Cheng Kaiyan remarked, his voice hoarse as he watched the old man leave.

"If only he weren't so busy visiting the courtyards of young wives in the middle of the night," Xu Yuxiu added dryly, nearly making Cheng Kaiyan choke with laughter.

...

Because of the IV, his mother stayed to change the medicine periodically. Outside, the drizzling rain continued, and a corner of the window was left open for ventilation. Occasionally, a few raindrops splashed in, leaving marks on the dry floor. The room was very quiet. Cheng Kaiyan rested with his eyes closed, while Xu Yuxiu sat by the bed knitting a gray and white sweater for him. She didn't like red; she felt it was too common and a bit tacky.

They chatted, enjoying their hard-won time together.

"You haven't been resting well lately, have you? I've seen your light on at night. There's no need to push yourself that hard. You’ve only been back a short while and you’ve already worked yourself sick. I know you're under pressure. When you first came back, you were so relaxed—you ate well, napped on the lounge chair in the sun for hours... those were good times. You’re under pressure partly because I have expectations of you. I feel that as my son, how could you be worse than others? And then there's the gossip outside. Thankfully, you proved yourself by writing that novel. But then you became a teaching assistant at Beijing Normal University—everyone there is a high-achieving intellectual with a high IQ. Even if we can't compare, just do your own work properly and ignore what others say. Just like you wrote in your novel, don't let external factors influence you. The alienation of people by the social environment is truly terrifying," Xu Yuxiu advised earnestly. As a mother, she wanted him to succeed, but she wanted him healthy even more.

"You read that too?" Cheng Kaiyan smiled with his eyes closed, thinking, *Those high achievers? Your son is no worse than them!*

"I've read it many times! *The Submarine at Night*..." Xu Yuxiu’s face held a proud smile, her dark eyes filled with pride. Before reading it, she hadn't realized her son had so many thoughts as a child—fantasizing about whirlpools and sea monsters, dreaming of interstellar explosions, and even sneaking out to pilot a submarine while she slept! What a rascal! She had wanted to explore the ocean floor on that submarine too—why did he have to hide it from his mother? Just thinking about it was delightful.

Cheng Kaiyan, eyes closed, missed the expression on her face. Before long, he drifted into a deep sleep against her side, a smile lingering on his lips.

...

When he woke up again, the sound of piano music drifted into his ears. Xu Yuxiu was sitting at the piano bench, her hands gliding over the keys. Her slender, white fingers danced like butterflies in flight. Her posture was elegant, and a sense of nobility and grace emanated from her very bones.

Debussy’s *Clair de Lune*.

The name popped into Cheng Kaiyan's mind. It was a masterpiece. Debussy’s version was incredibly gentle and soothing, like Impressionist painting—dreamy, hazy, and coolly beautiful, as if one were bathing in moonlight filtering through clouds. It was often used for prenatal education and was effective at calming emotions and stress.

"Auntie Xu plays so beautifully. Much better than our teachers at school."

"Mm-hmm!" Sitting on the small sofa by the window were the young girl Zhan Xinyu and Zhao Ruixue. Zhan Xinyu made it a habit to come over every weekend to do her homework, supposedly for Cheng Kaiyan to tutor her. And Zhao Ruixue, who rarely went home, had also been returning from school more often lately.

"Giggle, you two really know how to talk," Xu Yuxiu said with a soft smile as the piece ended. Sensing something, she turned around and saw Cheng Kaiyan watching her. "You're awake, Kaiyan. How was the music? Do you feel better?"

"Much better. Mom, your level is probably higher than most professional performers. We should start a piano training class; it would definitely make money," Cheng Kaiyan said with a thumbs-up.

"Look at you—money, money, money. You're obsessed," Xu Yuxiu said, though her mouth curled into a happy smile. "I'm going to get you some food. It's past three; you must be starving."

"It's past three?" Cheng Kaiyan was startled. He looked up, and sure enough, it was 3:16 PM.

After his mother left, Cheng Kaiyan looked at the bandage on his hand, the spot where the large needle had been still aching slightly. However, after the infusion, his body felt much better. He slowly got dressed, sat at his desk, and asked casually, "Ruixue, you won an award for your English poetry recitation. Did you enter this poetry creation competition?"

"Not yet. I've been busy reviewing for final exams. They say the competition spans a long time, right up until the finals, so there's plenty of time. Did you enter?" Zhao Ruixue asked, looking at him with anticipation. She was eager to see what his poetry would be like. After all, his debut, *The Submarine at Night*, had been so stunning. If he hadn't entered, she was determined to beg him to try.

"Our Director Fang required all teachers in the Chinese Department to participate, so I wrote one." Cheng Kaiyan picked up his pen and began writing something that looked like musical notation.

"Then I’ll have to critique it carefully when the time comes!" Zhao Ruixue said, pleasantly surprised.

"You can critique this song right now," Cheng Kaiyan said, picking up the sheet of paper and sitting at the piano.

Before Zhao Ruixue could react, a melody filled with a faint sense of sorrow began to play. Then, Cheng Kaiyan sang in a voice still raspy from his cold:

*"In the village, there's a girl named Xiaofang, beautiful and kind. A pair of big, beautiful eyes, with braids thick and long. On the night before I returned to the city, you and I came to the riverside. The tears I had never shed before flowed along with the river..."*

As the song ended, Zhao Ruixue, Zhan Xinyu, and Xu Yuxiu—who had just walked in with a bowl of food—stood frozen in place.

Zhan Xinyu: "This... what song is this? Brother Yan, I've never heard it before!"

Xu Yuxiu: "It's true, Kaiyan, it sounds quite nice, though a bit sad."

Zhao Ruixue: "It sounds like it's about the 'educated youth' returning to the city."

Cheng Kaiyan explained: "The name of this song is 'Xiaofang'."

"You can write songs too?" Everyone's eyes lit up.