“He’s also not sleeping this late.”
“Mm, he has issues.”
Lin Zhexia pointed out: “We’re not sleeping either.”
Chi Yao said, “That’s different.”
Lin Zhexia: “…How is it different?”
Chi Yao: “Because I have double standards.”
“…”
Silence for a while.
Lin Zhexia asked softly: “What do you want to eat tomorrow morning?”
She added: “I’m a bit hungry. Tomorrow morning I want to eat xiaolongbao.”
“Then you need to sleep first,” Chi Yao said.
“Oh.”
Lin Zhexia closed her eyes.
Outside, the thunder had stopped. With her eyes closed, she heard the pitter-patter of rain.
She recalled the first time she revealed her fear of thunder to Chi Yao. It was many, many years ago.
So long ago that she couldn’t quite remember the exact year.
It seemed to be during their second year after moving here. That year, there was a thunderstorm one night.
At that time, Lin Zhexia was still the “tigress” who could beat anyone in the neighborhood, and Chi Yao was still the “little brother” she had unilaterally recognized.
That day, Lin He and Wei Ping went to a colleague’s dinner, then went singing afterward. By the time they headed home, it was past midnight. The rain had intensified, and due to the weather, they were stuck in traffic with their phones out of battery.
Lin Zhexia had never shown her fear of thunder in front of Lin He because, as long as someone was home, she wasn’t as afraid. So Lin He only knew her daughter disliked rainy and thundery days, but didn’t know about her fear of thunder sounds. She thought that so late at night, her daughter should already be asleep.
But that night, Lin Zhexia hadn’t fallen asleep.
She clutched her phone, her body tense, continuously calling Lin He.
“The number you have dialed is switched off…”
“Please leave a message after the beep…”
“…”
Lin Zhexia’s lips turned pale as she thought to herself:
Why can’t I get through?
Even just answering a call would be good.
Just hearing someone’s voice would be enough.
The fear that followed was like rising tide water, almost engulfing her.
In the end, she couldn’t remember what she was thinking. Without even taking an umbrella, she crouched in the rain at Chi Yao’s doorstep. When Chi Yao opened the door, she was soaked from head to toe.
“Your big brother went out,” she shivered, making up an excuse, “forgot to bring my keys.”
“…”
A miniature version of Chi Yao stood at the door, looking at her for a moment: “You went out in the middle of the night?”
“Is that not allowed?” she shivered, saying, “I just like going out in the middle of the night.”
Eventually, Chi Yao let her in, giving her a new set of clothes and a towel.
Lin Zhexia had short hair back then, and after changing into a boy’s clothes, she looked like a little boy.
At first, Chi Yao thought she was shaking uncontrollably because she was tired from being rained on. But half an hour after coming inside, Lin Zhexia was still huddled in the corner of the sofa, shivering.
Chi Yao seemed to have asked her, “Are you cold?” several times, but she hadn’t responded.
It wasn’t until Chi Yao stood in front of her, reaching out to check her temperature, that she came back to her senses.
“When I was little,” Lin Zhexia felt the warmth on her forehead, which pulled her back to reality. Suddenly unable to suppress it, she said, “That’s how my father left.”
“He had another woman outside, and… another child.”
“The thunder was very loud. I begged him for a long time, but he still left.”
These words had always been hidden in her heart.
She was afraid of worrying Lin He, so she had never spoken of it.
This fear she had always hidden, that even Lin He didn’t know about.
From that moment, there was one more person who knew.
With her eyes closed, as Lin Zhexia withdrew from her memories, she heard rustling sounds beside her. Chi Yao was lying down.
The two were positioned very close to each other. The sofa wasn’t high; if she lowered her hand and leaned a bit to the side, she could touch Chi Yao’s hair.
She pulled the blanket up a bit more, covering her nose tip, and asked in a muffled voice: “Chi Yao, Chi Yao, are you asleep?”