"Like the Moon in the Sky" - Chapter 21
Shen Qinghuai turned slightly toward her. He wasn’t one to easily show emotion, but at this moment, his gaze held clear concern.
“Your brother-in-law mentioned your grandfather wasn’t feeling well and was admitted to the hospital, so I came to see.”
Zhu Jinyue stared at the person who had suddenly appeared before her, feeling as if she were asleep and dreaming.
“Weren’t you on a business trip?”
He had even texted her yesterday saying he would be away for a few days and had left last night. How was it that he suddenly showed up at the hospital early this morning?
Shen Qinghuai replied, “The meeting was postponed.”
Zhu Jinyue hadn’t eaten or slept all night, and the sudden appearance of someone who shouldn’t be here left her feeling dazed. She could only manage a blank, “Oh.”
Shen Qinghuai glanced at the empty space beside her. “Why are you alone?”
Zhu Jinyue said, “My sister went to a meeting.”
His gaze returned to her face, and he suddenly asked in a low voice, “Do you still feel like crying? With your sister not here, you don’t have to worry about making her anxious. If you want to cry, I can lend you my shoulder.”
Before he arrived, Zhu Jinyue, sitting here alone, had been on the verge of tears.
But now, with someone else here, she instinctively put on a brave face. “Who wants to cry?”
“Don’t worry, I’m very tight-lipped. I won’t tell anyone.” Shen Qinghuai paused slightly, then slowly added, “If you still remember, that is.”
Zhu Jinyue turned her head to look at the man’s handsome face. Her sluggish mind took a moment to process before she realized what he was referring to—
It must have been just a few days after Halloween.
At that time, she was a day student at Xingnan No. 1 High School and could have gone home for lunch breaks. But Zhu Jingsen and Kong Si were constantly busy with work. Although they were mindful of her feelings during that period and tried their best to ensure at least one of them wasn’t working overtime so she wouldn’t be alone after school, they were almost always at the company during lunchtime. Going home at noon meant being alone in an empty house, lost in her thoughts. It was better to stay at school, surrounded by the lively crowd. Whether she knew them well or not, it at least helped distract her a little.
That noon, as usual, she stayed in the classroom, resting her head on the desk for a nap.
But that day, she dreamed of her grandmother.
It was the first time she had dreamed of her since her passing.
In the dream, her grandmother was just like always: late at night, after she had fallen asleep, she would tiptoe into her room and carefully pull up the kicked-off blankets to cover her again.
Half-awake, she murmured and stirred. The hands tucking her in then moved to her shoulder, patting it gently.
“It’s Grandma. Go back to sleep.”
The tone and scent were both familiar and comforting. Zhu Jinyue closed her eyes again, instinctively nuzzling her cheek against that hand.
Even though she was almost sixteen, her grandmother still treated her like a little child.
Suddenly, someone outside the classroom shouted loudly.
Zhu Jinyue jolted awake from the beautiful dream.
Her thoughts still lingered in the dream; the sensation of those gentle hands tucking her in remained on her cheek. She sat in a daze for a moment before realizing it had all been a dream.
The person from her dream was gone forever. She would never again come into her room at night to cover her with a blanket, and never again would those gentle hands rest on her cheek, coaxing her back to sleep.
Emotional collapse happens in an instant.
Zhu Jinyue didn’t want to cry in front of her classmates. She got up and ran outside.
It was still some time before afternoon classes, and most people in the classroom were either sleeping or writing. No one noticed her leave.
Their classroom was on the sixth floor. That year, perhaps because there weren’t many mental health cases yet, the corridors at Xingnan No. 1 High had no safety railings installed, and the rooftop wasn’t locked either.
After November, cold air swept in, and the temperature in Xingnan dropped sharply. The wind on the rooftop was fierce, and no one had been up there recently.
Zhu Jinyue wanted exactly that—a place with no one around.
She walked with her head down, tears silently streaming as she went. Rounding a corner, she bumped straight into someone’s chest. She caught a whiff of fresh laundry detergent but didn’t stop to apologize, sidestepping the person and continuing up the stairs.
When she reached the deserted rooftop, she crouched down and cried openly.
But she hadn’t been crying for long when footsteps suddenly approached.
Zhu Jinyue looked up. Through her tear-blurred vision, she saw a tall, slender figure walking toward her. His handsome face was slightly blurred by her tears, but it was enough for her to recognize who it was.
After all, even now, there were only two people at Xingnan No. 1 High she was somewhat familiar with.
One was Qu Wei.
The other was Shen Qinghuai, who was now walking toward her.
The boy’s gaze seemed concerned, his voice gentler than usual.
“What’s wrong?”
Zhu Jinyue didn’t want anyone to see her crying. She looked up, her voice choked. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Okay.” Shen Qinghuai obediently stopped. “But do you need tissues?”
Zhu Jinyue had rushed out in a hurry and hadn’t thought to bring tissues. His reminder made her realize her nose was about to run.
Whether from crying too hard or the wind, she wasn’t sure.
Zhu Jinyue sniffled. “Then throw them over.”
This time, Shen Qinghuai didn’t listen. “The ground is dirty. Are you sure you want me to throw them?”
Zhu Jinyue looked down.
It had rained heavily in Xingnan just yesterday, and the rooftop hadn’t fully dried. The spot where she was crouching had a small, dark patch in front of her. It didn’t look like moss, but it was indeed dirty.
Zhu Jinyue hesitated. Remembering that this wasn’t the first time he had seen her cry or seen her embarrassed, she finally relented.
“Then come over.”
Shen Qinghuai walked over and half-knelt in front of her. The cold wind that had been blowing in her face was now blocked by him.
The boy first opened the packet of tissues, then turned it toward her and placed it in his palm, offering it to her.
Zhu Jinyue took the tissue, pulled one out to wipe her nose, and then realized there was nowhere to throw it away after she was done.
Accustomed to being fastidious, she really couldn’t bring herself to litter.
The boy across from her seemed to sense her dilemma. He stood up, walked away, and soon returned with a discarded metal bucket from who knows where.
Zhu Jinyue tossed the used tissue into it and pulled out a fresh one.
Then she heard Shen Qinghuai ask softly:
“Did something happen? If you’re willing, would you like to tell me about it?”
Perhaps it was because his timing was so perfectly coincidental, or because the emotions she had bottled up for so long had been shattered by that unexpected dream and desperately needed an outlet—or maybe it was simply because his voice was too gentle.
Zhu Jinyue sniffled. “My grandmother passed away a few months ago.”
Shen Qinghuai didn’t respond, just watched her quietly, like the perfect listener.
Somehow, Zhu Jinyue found herself slowly continuing.
“The day before she died, we had a fight. I wanted to try a new ice cream, but it had milk in it, and she wouldn’t let me eat it. I’m not a child—I knew it had milk, and I knew what an allergic reaction felt like. At worst, I’d feel a bit unwell and just take some medicine. But she still wouldn’t allow it. So, we argued, and I ignored her all night.”
“The next morning, she went to work early. She had actually already retired but couldn’t stand being idle, so she was rehired by her unit. That evening, we got a call saying she… she had suddenly—”
Zhu Jinyue lowered her head.
“I didn’t even get to see her one last time. I didn’t get to apologize to her. I was angry with her over an ice cream for a whole night. The last thing I said to her was, ‘Why are you so annoying?’…”
Zhu Jinyue couldn’t go on. She hugged her knees and broke down sobbing again.
Shen Qinghuai remained silent, quietly half-kneeling in front of her, accompanying her as she cried.
It wasn’t until much later, when she had cried herself tired and the surge of emotion had slightly subsided, that she heard his voice, very low and close by.
“I’m sorry.”
Zhu Jinyue looked up, her red-rimmed eyes meeting his.
It was she who hadn’t had the chance to apologize to her grandmother, but—
“Why are you apologizing to me?”
Shen Qinghuai, “I asked what happened, but I don’t seem to know how to comfort you. Anything I say feels pale and useless.”
Zhu Jinyue blinked, tears continuing to fall.
“Yeah, everyone who sees me tells me to ‘accept my grief,’ but no one tells me how to do that. She was my grandmother. I’ll never see her again. I’ll never see her for the rest of my life. I don’t have a grandmother anymore. How am I supposed to ‘accept my grief’…?”
The boy, of course, didn’t spout any more meaningless platitudes about accepting grief. Instead, he pulled out another pack of tissues from somewhere, took one, and handed it to her.
As Zhu Jinyue took it, a tear happened to fall onto the tip of his right index finger.
There was a small mole there.
Then she heard Shen Qinghuai say softly, “Crying it out might make you feel a little better.”
Zhu Jinyue crumpled the tissue into a ball, belatedly remembering that the person in front of her had also lost a loved one.
No wonder he didn’t feed her any hollow words about accepting grief.
“Do you still feel like crying often now?”
Her question was abrupt and disjointed, but Shen Qinghuai seemed to easily tune into her wavelength.
“No.” He paused, then said quietly, “Time is a sharp weapon.”
Back then, Zhu Jinyue hadn’t even turned sixteen yet. Before her grandmother’s passing, her entire life could be summed up in eight words:
Carefree, and every wish fulfilled.
Her biggest worry was nothing more than her minor allergy issues—not being able to keep furry pets, not being able to eat certain things.
At the time, she couldn’t understand those words at all.
Zhu Jinyue crouched and cried for a while longer.
Perhaps it was because crying so hard had released some of the pent-up emotions in her heart, or perhaps it was because someone was there to listen—someone who happened to resonate with her on the same frequency and understood her feelings.
Zhu Jinyue did feel a little better now.
Clutching the tissue, she rested her head on her knees and asked the boy who had been keeping her company, “Is it just you and your mom at home now? What about other relatives?”
Shen Qinghuai, “My mom is an orphan. My grandmother also passed away early. My grandfather remarried later, and he passed away a couple of years ago.”
Zhu Jinyue blinked. “What about your step-grandmother?”
Shen Qinghuai, “She lives with her younger son now.”
“Is her younger son your grandfather’s biological child?”
“No.”
It was one thing for an uncle with no blood relation not to help, but this step-grandmother of his still had a legal connection to their family. They must have lived together for a while—how could she let a minor like him be forced to work to support the family?
Zhu Jinyue asked, puzzled, “Is your step-grandmother old, or is she in poor health and can’t work?”
Shen Qinghuai, “She’s not that old, and she’s in good health.”
His tone when he said this was no different from usual—no resentment, but no closeness either.
But when mentioning family, the absence of both closeness and resentment was itself the biggest problem.
Zhu Jinyue had been learning drawing since childhood and unconsciously sketched a sharp, mean-looking little old lady in her mind.
——Even the school teachers often help him, yet this so-called grandmother of his is so heartless.
However, speaking ill of an elder to their face went against her upbringing. Zhu Jinyue held back, but she simply couldn’t help herself.
So, she let out a heavy “Hmph!”
But Shen Qinghuai seemed to understand what she meant.
The usually gentle and composed boy tilted his head slightly and let out a soft laugh.
When Zhu Jinyue looked over, she saw the corners of his narrow eyes curved into a smile, dazzling under the sunlight that had been rare in Xingnan.
Suddenly, a sharp ringtone cut through the air.
Zhu Jinyue snapped back to reality, “Is class starting?”
Shen Qinghuai turned his gaze back to her, a trace of lingering laughter still in his eyes, “It should be the end of the first period.”
Zhu Jinyue was slightly startled.
Had she been crying for over a whole class? That long?
But it didn’t matter that she’d cried for so long or missed class. She wasn’t in the mood to listen anyway. Whether she studied or not, countless wide, smooth paths lay ahead for her to choose from. But the person in front of her probably needed to earn scholarships, right?
“Will it be okay for you to miss first period?”
Shen Qinghuai, “First period this afternoon is English. It’s fine if I missed it.”
Zhu Jinyue, “?”
“Does the English teacher know you think like that?”
Shen Qinghuai seemed to laugh again, “She probably does. She’s seen me doing homework for other subjects during English class.”
Zhu Jinyue, “??”
He did homework for other subjects during English class? And he still scored higher than her on the last English exam?
She didn’t pay attention in her other classes, didn’t take exams seriously, and her grades were a mess. But since childhood, she’d travelled all over the world with her parents during holidays; her English was almost as good as her native language.
Although, she didn’t put much effort into English exams either, often selecting answers without even finishing the questions. So, it wasn’t unfair that she scored lower than him.
“Then you should hurry back to class.”
Shen Qinghuai didn’t get up. Instead, he asked softly, “What about you?”
Zhu Jinyue had been crying for so long that she was sure her eyes were swollen and ugly by now, “I don’t want to go back.”
Shen Qinghuai, “Do you want to ask for leave and go home?”
Zhu Jinyue shook her head, her voice muffled again, “My parents aren’t home anyway. I don’t want to go back either.”
Shen Qinghuai was silent for a moment. “I called them last time. They care about you a lot.”
“…I know.” Zhu Jinyue also fell silent.
She knew that Zhu Jinsen and Kong Si cared deeply about her—otherwise, they wouldn’t have specifically moved to a new city for her. But they also genuinely loved their work.
If they were only doing it for the money, she could have blamed them for loving money more than their daughter. But she had seen how happy they were when they completed a project. She didn’t want them to give up that joy just to stay home and revolve their entire world around her.
Still, hearing Shen Qinghuai say it made her miss Zhu Jinsen and Kong Si a little.
“I’ll go to the company to see them.”
“Okay.” Only then did Shen Qinghuai slowly rise to his feet.
Zhu Jinyue stood up as well.
At almost the exact same moment, Shen Qinghuai warned, “Not too fast. You’ve been squatting so long, your legs might—”
He was clearly too late.
Before he could even finish the word “numb,” Zhu Jinyue lost her balance and stumbled forward—
Then crashed straight into the boy’s arms.
A clean, fresh scent filled her nose, like some kind of laundry detergent. Her ears burning, Zhu Jinyue took a step back as it dawned on her—so he was the one she’d bumped into at the sixth-floor landing earlier.
No wonder he had followed her up to find her.
Feeling awkward, Zhu Jinyue touched her ear. “Well, I’m off then.”
Shen Qinghuai didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. His eyelashes were slightly lowered, all emotion hidden beneath them. He gave a soft “Mm.”
Zhu Jinyue turned to leave.
After just two steps, she paused and turned back.
Shen Qinghuai raised a brow gently. “What’s wrong?”
Zhu Jinyue hesitated. “You can’t tell anyone you saw me crying today.”
Shen Qinghuai nodded. “Okay.”
Zhu Jinyue, “And you can’t tell anyone what I told you today either. Not a single word.”
She hadn’t even personally told Fu Shuyu about the fight with her grandmother. Back when her grandmother had just passed, her emotions were too raw; she cried almost every day. Fu Shuyu had found out from her own family.
Shen Qinghuai nodded again. “Okay.”
Zhu Jinyue found him almost too agreeable, and felt inexplicably uneasy. “Promise me.”
Shen Qinghuai tilted his head and laughed softly.
“I promise you—if I tell anyone, I’ll come in last place on the next exam—” He paused, looking directly at her. “Is that acceptable?”
Zhu Jinyue, “…”
She’d heard from Qu Wei that since starting high school, this guy had never been dethroned from the top spot. It was rare enough for him to come in second, let alone dead last.
—There was really no need to swear something so severe.
“Never mind, I’ll reluctantly believe you.” Zhu Jinyue waved at him and turned around again. “Really leaving now.”
It was only later that Zhu Jinyue learned he also had a step-grandmother—something else he never told anyone else at school. She was the only one who knew.
…
“Jinyue.”
Perhaps because she had been silent for too long, Shen Qinghuai suddenly called her name.
Zhu Jinyue was pulled back from her memories by his voice.
The image of the sixteen-year-old Shen Qinghuai in her mind was replaced by the face of the twenty-six-year-old Shen Qinghuai before her.
Ten years had passed. The young boy had shed his thin, youthful frame and greenness, becoming the tall, composed, and steady man in front of her.
Zhu Jinyue finally felt the power of time.
“You lied,” she sniffled. “Time isn’t a swift knife at all—it’s a blunt one.”