Chapter 3

Jiang Huaiyang was bright and quick-witted, with a sharp tongue that could talk circles around people. Aunt Jiang once joked about sending him to learn crosstalk, saying it would be a contribution to the art. Uncle Jiang, however, disagreed, insisting that with Huaiyang’s exceptional math skills, he might just become a mathematician one day. Though Jiang Huaiyang was mischievous, his talent was undeniable. Even in kindergarten, he stood out from his peers. The teachers adored him and often praised his intelligence to Aunt Jiang at pick-up time. Yet, in the end, their eyes would always carry a trace of sorrow. Jiang Huaiyang was born with an illness. He had known since childhood that he was different from other kids. He had to visit the hospital frequently—sometimes facing cold, unfeeling machines, sometimes enduring long needles. He also had to take a lot of bitter medicine. There were times when he acted out, throwing away his medicine and demanding, “Why don’t other kids have to go to the hospital? Why don’t they have to take medicine? Why can they go to school and have so many friends? Why don’t I?” His questions turned into Aunt Jiang’s tears. She knelt down and held him tightly, whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s my fault for not giving you a healthy body. I’m so sorry…” Jiang Huaiyang pulled away from her embrace and wiped away her tears. “Mom, this isn’t your fault… It’s mine. I’ll take my medicine properly.” Aunt Jiang sobbed uncontrollably, while Uncle Jiang stood behind her, his eyes red-rimmed. A few days later, Uncle Jiang arranged for him to attend a kindergarten, making numerous calls to the principal beforehand. Aunt Jiang and Uncle Jiang raised him with extreme care, indulging him in every possible way. Growing up in such an environment made him energetic and full of strange, whimsical ideas. As long as his actions weren’t over the line, the adults let him be. My mom once said, “Huaiyang was so spoiled as a kid. It’s a miracle he didn’t grow up crooked. Not only that, but he matured faster than his peers—it’s really something.” He only seemed carefree. He would take me to visit Granny Zhang, who lived alone, and during the holidays, he would bring her dumplings. He bought steamed buns for homeless people and lent money to strangers who claimed they couldn’t get home. When I warned him that they might be scammers, he just laughed and said, “But what if they really don’t have money to go home?” That shut me up. He would also wait patiently at crosswalks for elderly people with limited mobility. His kindness and gentleness were quiet, never showy. After he was hospitalized this time, people of all ages came to visit him—from elderly grandfathers to eight-year-old kids. He chatted with them cheerfully, joking and laughing. I sat beside him, peeling an apple. He was picky—he wouldn’t eat apple skins, nor would he eat sliced apples. He only wanted the whole fruit. Once his visitors left, he reached for an apple from the fruit plate. “Ah, my god, I’m exhausted,” he said, dramatically patting his chest before taking a loud, crunchy bite of the apple. I was curious. “Where did you meet so many people?” He grinned. “You guys were all at school. I was home alone. If I didn’t find something to do, I’d suffocate.” He was never one to wallow in self-pity. His poor health never stopped him from exploring the world. He had a clear perspective—rather than spending his days sighing at home, it was better to go outside and enjoy life. Wasting emotions on meaningless things? That was just not worth it. “Life is short,” he said. “Especially for someone like me. Gotta enjoy it while I can, or I’d be losing out big time.” “So, is there anything you still want to do but haven’t gotten the chance?” “Of course! And…” He flashed a mischievous grin. “Only you can help me with it!” His expression set off alarms in my head. I shielded my face with my book, leaving only my eyes exposed. “What do you want?” His voice turned theatrical. “Little Moon, the way you’re talking hurts my heart!” “Just spit it out. What do you want?” “I want… I want to have a love affair with you—one without any concerns for the outcome.” His uncharacteristically bashful expression made me shudder. He was always smooth with sweet words, so I never took him seriously. I coldly dismissed him. “It’s not that I don’t want to date. It’s just that studying is a better investment.” As a devoted fan of academics, how could I let something as trivial as romance distract me? “Nonsense! What’s so great about studying? Besides, isn’t getting into Peking University a piece of cake for you?” “Nope. You should find someone else to date. Better yet, date her long enough so that when you send me off to Peking University, you can bring your girlfriend along too.” “Come on, I don’t even know any girls besides you. Well, and your cousins. But they’re three, four, five years younger than me—that’s not right.” I smirked. “You can always meet new people. If that doesn’t work, I can ask my Second Grandpa to introduce you to someone.” My Second Grandpa was a legendary matchmaker. He had arranged nearly a hundred successful marriages. “Listen to yourself!” “What’s wrong? You’re already eighteen. Don’t be shy. Since we’ve known each other for so long, I’ll even ask him to find someone beautiful and educated. You may be weak, but you’ve still got some charm!” He widened his eyes. “Xu Jingyue! I’ve stayed pure for you for eighteen years! Eighteen years of unwavering loyalty! Beautiful girls passed by, and I kept my eyes straight ahead, stepping three meters away! And now… now you want me to go on blind dates?! Have you no shame?!” He clutched his head dramatically, shaking like a soap opera character. I rolled up my book and smacked his leg. “Enough nonsense! Or I’ll beat you up!” What ‘eighteen years of purity’? He barely attended school because of his health, so he wasn’t even well-known in his own class. Later, he dramatically declared he had no interest in school and quit altogether. That was during his third year of middle school. His exam results were atrocious, infuriating Aunt Jiang so much that she refused to cook for him for three days. Uncle Jiang had to pull strings to get him into a private high school. After just one week, he knocked on his parents’ door, solemnly declaring that he had no interest in school. He didn’t want to waste his time on ten-plus classes a day—he preferred having control over his own time. “Mom, Dad, I’m sixteen now.” Doctors had once said that Jiang Huaiyang might not live past twenty. Since then, he stayed home, tending to plants, swinging in the garden with a book, or painting. His friends were elderly chess players in the park, street food vendors, and early-dismissed schoolchildren. But never peers his own age. Thinking about it made me sad. But the next day, when I visited him again, he was grinning smugly. “Look at this! A marriage certificate!” He waved an old, yellowed piece of paper in front of me. It read: Marriage Certificate Groom: Jiang Huaiyang Bride: Xu Jingyue From today, we are husband and wife, together forever! Even my childhood fingerprint was on it. I was speechless. I glared at him. “Scram.”