The young man sat as if listening to a lecture, his eyes gleaming with an almost liquid radiance from concentration, and the light and shadow carved his nose bridge straight and steep.
Cen Jin discovered something different. She had always thought of Li Wu as just a little boy, but she had to admit, he looked more profound than his peers, with more depth to him. His youthful innocence had a kind of settled quality, like a lake with sand and stones at the bottom and sparkling light on top.
This perception was contradictory, yet harmonious.
Especially as it emanated from him.
Cen Jin couldn’t help but ask curiously: “Li Wu, do girls at Yi Zhong write you love letters?”
Li Wu thought he hadn’t heard clearly: “Huh?”
“Are there any girls at your school pursuing you?”
“No.” His denial came so quickly it seemed pre-prepared, his cheeks burning belatedly.
“Who are you kidding,” her gaze was piercing: “Just tell me, hasn’t our sibling relationship reached the level where we can share these things?”
The young man’s tone suddenly became more urgent: “Really, there aren’t any.”
Cen Jin hissed, changing her approach: “Actually, you’re quite good-looking, you know?”
This time Li Wu blushed from his face to his neck, saying nothing.
“Much better than when I first met you, you were still a short little thing then,” Cen Jin’s thoughts jumped, turning to reminisce. She took out her phone, scrolling back through her album while sighing: “Tomorrow you’ll be seventeen, a big boy now.”
Li Wu listened to her speak, his mind no longer able to process a single line from the movie.
“Found it, our photo from back then,” Cen Jin’s voice brightened: “I’ll send it to you.”
She enlarged the photo to admire it, but her finger suddenly paused, her expression dimming. After a moment, she said softly: “Wait.”
She opened a photo editing app and cropped out the man on the far left. The whole image suddenly lost 1/3, leaving only her and Li Wu.
Cen Jin hit save, switched to WeChat, and sent this incomplete photo to Li Wu.
Li Wu also took out his phone, and when he saw the full image, he froze, feeling a mix of emotions.
Cen Jin was still reminiscing about that photo, comparing their heights, teasing him: “You were short then, not even as tall as me.”
But Li Wu was looking at her, his eyes only on her.
The woman in the photo wore a faint smile, distant as if beyond the clouds. He had almost forgotten what she looked like that day because, for that entire day, he hadn’t looked at her or them. He knew clearly that many times, people like him were just a form of solace to them, a comfort, a vessel for manifesting kindness. They couldn’t understand what it was like, that kind of hope and despair of struggling to survive in the quagmire; that kind of hesitation, confusion, and anguish that had turned him into a lone beast licking its wounds.
When did he start looking at her?
At a certain moment, a certain image suddenly flashed through his mind.
That day, she descended from the heavens like a beam of light, illuminating the cramped house and his field of vision.
So it was that day, that glance, when he saw her for the second time.
He saw her clearly, and since then, could never erase her from his mind.
“Li Wu, let’s take another photo.” His thoughts were interrupted by Cen Jin. In his vision, the woman had already left the sofa and was running toward the study. She rummaged through drawers and found a long-unused Polaroid instant camera.
She pulled out the camera stand from the top of the bookshelf and brought it all out, setting it up properly by the coffee table.
Cen Jin lowered her head to adjust the camera, connecting it to her phone via Bluetooth: “Let’s take a photo together. To commemorate this New Year, 2020, both you and I are making a new start.”
Before Li Wu could react, she had already pulled his arm up and positioned him to stand right in front of the sofa: “Stand still, don’t move.”
Cen Jin ran back to the camera, carefully fixed it in place, and took two steps in three back to his side, stopping with a small gap between them.
She set the mode on her phone, and the camera began counting down.
She glanced at him sideways, seeing the young man still dazed, and fiercely prompted: “Smile for me!”
Li Wu was immediately amused, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth.
Click.
The photo paper slid out, casually plucked by Cen Jin.
Seeing Li Wu’s intense curiosity, she handed the photo paper to him.
Li Wu’s heart was pounding as he looked at the product, but was met with a blank surface: “Why isn’t there anything?”
“It’ll appear in a moment.” Cen Jin stopped by the coffee table, picked up one of the sodas Li Wu had lined up, pulled the tab, and started drinking. After all that running around, moisture had appeared at her temples.
Li Wu sat back on the sofa, holding the photo paper in one hand, watching unblinkingly, patiently waiting for it to develop.
Soon, the woman and the young man slowly appeared.
In the photo, both their smiles were genuine. He pressed his lips together shyly, while she showed eight teeth, beautiful and radiant.