Chapter 1: Prologue

“The last time I returned here, I was in too much of a hurry and couldn’t clean up the house so it might be too dusty.” Standing at the threshold, Song Yinan’s smile held a hint of caution.

 

Sensing that there was no movement from behind her, Song Yinan turned her head, looked at Jing Can, and found that he was staring at the iron gate in front of him.

 

"Xiao Can?"

 

Jing Can blinked when he heard this call.

 

"It was a long car ride, are you tired?"

 

"No," Jing Can shook his head and carried their luggage bags with one hand. He looked at Song Yinan and immediately realized that he had probably missed hearing something. "What did you just say?"

 

"I said the house might be dusty," Song Yinan said, and opened the metal door with the key in her hand. The door lock and the keys collided, as if signaling something in secret.

 

Three steps of limestone lead up the door. Jing Can was standing under the steps, so when the iron door was pushed open, the first thing that greeted Jing Can's eyes was the verdant green that spilled out from under Song Yinan's beige cotton sleeves. Jing Can didn't ask what kind of plants those were. He only knew that this was his first impression of the world within this house.

 

The world inside the iron gate is actually completely foreign to Jing Can. Speaking of which, this should be counted as his maternal grandfather's home. But when Song Yinan married Jing Can's father, her father had already passed away and her mother was also on her deathbed. Jing Can, who was still a child then, had no chance to see his maternal grandparents.

 

On the contrary... Jing Can attended Song Yinan's mother's funeral. In a way, it should be counted as being able to meet one’s grandparent.

 

At the funeral, Jing Can sat beside his father. He kept leaning forward, trying to look over his father to take a peek at Song Yinan, but he could only see her tear-stained face. A small frown already hovered at the corner of Jing Zaixing’s brows and he twisted Jing Can’s head back to look forward.

 

For the things he cares about, Jing Can can always remember them extremely well. So that moment when he stepped past the threshold and walked towards the house, he could recall that scene in perfect detail in his mind.

 

The two passed through the courtyard and finally entered the house. While walking, Song Yinan seemed to say something. But Jing Can was as always, dazed with thoughts afloat and didn't hear anything, standing still in the room. He came back to his senses and suddenly felt very ill at ease. This kind of unease is manifested in not knowing the next step to take, where to go after, whether to put down the luggage or not, and if so, where to set it down.

 

Noticing that he had been looking all over the place, Song Yinan also quickly glanced around and responded, "There are a lot of things here at home because my parents are the type who like to buy ornaments and hold on to things. Everywhere is full of their mementos."

 

She put the keychain on a table in front of the window, then walked over to take the luggage from Jing Can's hand to put it on the shoe cabinet by the door. The luggage bumped into a porcelain rabbit. The craftsmanship was not very exquisite but it still attracted the two of them to look at it. Song Yinan did not drop her hand that was holding on to their luggage back down to her side. Instead, she lightly bumped her hand on the edge of the cabinet, inadvertently scratching the wooden texture with her fingernails.

 

"This is from New Year's Day when I was nine years old. My dad took me out to the streets to play ring toss and I got it." She tilted her head, reached out and touched the rabbit's head with her index finger. On the rabbit’s head was a pink flower, its stamen black in colour. "My parents are already gone, and I discovered that all these things contain memories, so I left them exactly as they are."

 

It was also after Song Yinan's reminder that Jing Can only realised why he felt uncomfortable—there are too many things in this house. The more objects there were, the more stories and meanings belonged to Song Yinan. But to Jing Can, it was as if this was a house full of history and he was unable to comprehend a single story.

 

Song Yinan walked to the window and opened it. The window was not a sliding one, but had to be pushed outwards. There was a desk in front of the window. Standing beside it, Song Yinan suddenly turned around and waved to him. Maybe it was a trick of the sunlight, but in this split-second, Song Yinan's expression didn't quite resemble that of a mother at home.

 

The creeping vines gathered on the fence were not very dense. From beyond the gate, the street was visible. Perhaps because it was currently lunch time, no one walked by and it was very quiet.

 

"I used to like to do my homework here. When I was a child, I always thought that the window had magic, because sometimes I would suddenly look out of the window and stare dazedly, and then time would pass very quickly... The longest time it happened, I didn't realise I had been sitting and staring for a whole afternoon." Song Yinan looked at Jing Can, and suddenly quirked her lips and smiled, "I realised later that it's not that the windows have magical powers, but that I didn’t want to study."

 

These words also made Jing Can smile faintly. He slightly raised his head and looked outside, a gust of wind blew in and tickled his heart.

 

It's now June.

 

"I'll get you some water."

 

Song Yinan turned back after speaking, Jing Can watched her head towards the kitchen, turned around himself, thought about it, and sat down on the stool gently. He bowed down and glanced at the table, then folded his arms together on the table, like a primary school student attending class.

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There was a row of books in front of him. Jing Can swept a glance through them—junior high and senior high textbooks, which Song Yinan should have used before. He bit his lip lightly, raised his hand, and advanced a fingertip towards one of the books. But just as it was about to hit the spine, his hand hung in the air and paused.

 

After a while, Jing Can withdrew his hand. He stared at the row of books, as if in this way he could see the content inside, the written notes, and the years long past.

 

The wind suddenly blew hot air in, and from the previous quiet beyond the window, a sound rose, then fell. Like something repeatedly hitting the ground.

 

A basketball?

 

With a slight ripple in his heart, Jing Can used both hands to prop himself up and quickly stood up. He leaned forward and sure enough, he saw a basketball bouncing in the otherwise empty street. Jing Can stretched his neck forward once again, attempting to follow the path of the basketball, and to see the person following the ball. But that person seemed to be conversing with his companions, stopping a slight distance away. Even though Jing Can had stretched his head to the limit, his arms tense with exertion until the blue veins were visible, he could barely make out the face and figure of that person. Even the face was obscured by a cap, blocking that person’s eyes from view.

 

Someone laughed, and the man wearing the cap tilted his head and raised his chin.

 

Jing Can was dumbfounded. After a brief period of doubt, his arms suddenly lost their strength and became numb. He suddenly recovered from his previous pose, body standing straight, but his feet felt extremely weak.

 

"Xiao Can?"

 

Song Yinan's voice sounded so suddenly that when Jing Can turned around, he didn't have time to adjust the expression on his face. Song Yinan observed his expression, and unconsciously clenched her hand tightly around the cup she was holding.

 

Jing Can could feel the sweat quickly forming on his forehead. He quickly avoided Song Yinan's gaze, lowered his head, and leaned his body against the table.

 

"Are you having a headache again?"

 

Song Yinan's voice was very soft, and when Jing Can listened to it, he felt it was too gentle.

 

"No," Jing Can shook his head, and when he felt his body regain some strength back, he looked back at her.

 

Song Yinan didn't say anything, just handed him the water glass in her hand, took out another piece of tissue, and dabbed at the sweat on his forehead.

 

"It's a little hot." Song Yinan took a homemade pole-and-hook from the wall, pushed it forward, and used it to grab the window. "I had to put a desk here so the window is not easy to close. My father can only make me this pole that I can use to close it."

 

After closing the window, Song Yinan inadvertently turned to Jing Can and saw him with his head turned, still staring fixedly outside.

 

"What do you want to eat tonight?" Song Yinan coughed deliberately, with a little more ease in her tone, "Your father and Xiao Wei will not be home for dinner so we don't have to go back so early. I'll take you out to eat, okay..."

 

"Can I stay here and study?"

 

"Huh?" Song Yinan was stunned by Jing Can's question, and she paused her actions of leaning the pole against the wall.

 

"What do you mean by study?"

 

"At my age, what year should I be in?" Jing Can lowered his eyes, bent his index finger, and tapped the surface of the water glass, "It should be senior high school... Year two? Year three?"

 

 

A/N:

It's starting~~~~~

 

(I will update) Every other day. If something comes up, I will ask for a break.

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