She blew on the millet porridge in her hand, her eyes full of heartache: "Mo Yu, you have a high fever, and it hasn't completely subsided yet. Be a good boy and rest at home for a day."
Despite his mother's attempts to dissuade him, he tried to argue, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he started coughing violently again. These coughs affected his entire body, and he was in so much pain that he couldn't sit up.
"Look at you! Still so stubborn! If it doesn't work, just call Dr. Yang downstairs to give you an IV drip." Xia Wei said anxiously, patting Shen Moyu's back as she spoke.
"No! Cough cough... I'm not going, I'll just take some medicine." Shen Moyu forced out a sentence through his coughing, because he was terrified of injections.
Let him take any medicine, no matter how bitter, just don't give him an injection.
He disliked white coats, and even more so, needles...
Finally, under his mother's insistence, he endured the pain in his throat and finished a bowl of millet porridge.
Xia Wei took his temperature again, and he still had a fever, although it wasn't as bad as it was in the morning, but it was still over 38 degrees Celsius.
"Sigh, maybe you should get an IV drip for a couple of days, Mo Yu, you're really sick." Xia Wei tried to persuade him, still folding a towel for him.
"I don't..." Perhaps because he was sick, Shen Moyu abandoned his usual aloofness and spoke in a childlike and somewhat willful manner.
Xia Wei glanced at Shen Moyu, who was curled up in bed without even lifting his eyelids, and couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Alright, alright, then you get some rest, Mom won't bother you anymore."
Shen Moyu nodded, too lazy to even open his eyes. After the door closed, the room returned to deathly silence, though his own breathing and the ticking of the clock were very clear.
The occasional sounds of laughter and car horns coming from downstairs made me want him to go out for a walk.
He has lived here since he was a child, but he has never really taken a proper stroll around the streets near his home.
Perhaps because he had lived there for so long and gotten used to it, he had no interest or need to. He ignored all the noodle shops and pedestrians passing by. But today, he actually wanted to go out for a stroll, not anywhere else, just downstairs.
The silence inside the room contrasted sharply with the clamor outside the window, and Shen Moyu, who usually preferred quiet, suddenly longed for the excitement outside.
Today was a rare day off from work and school, a day he had been dreaming of, but he could only lie sickly in his room.
No one talked to him, and no one was there for him when he was feeling down.
It's a bit of a shame.
People tend to overthink and become melodramatic when they're sick. Shen Moyu was no exception.
I picked up my phone, and there were several rows of green WeChat message notifications on it.
He was a little shocked when he opened WeChat and saw a long row of red dots. WeChat, which usually never sends him messages, was suddenly busy.
He opened them one by one, starting with a few greetings from Chen Yuanyuan.
Yuanyuanzi [Are you alright, top student? How did you suddenly get sick?]
[Is it because of the recent large temperature difference? (Feeling sorry for you)]
He smiled and, for the first time, replied to the WeChat message without showing any impatience.
Not a Fish: [Probably. I'm fine, I'll go back tomorrow.]
Hang Zong: [Seriously, you top student? This is the first time I've seen you skip class. Are you alright? Get some rest. Don't worry about the notes, we'll lend them to you when you get back. (Raises an eyebrow)]
He scrolled down and saw that besides acquaintances like He Qing and Song Wenmiao, there were also many greetings from classmates he only had WeChat with but had never spoken to.
Surprisingly, there was also Chinese teacher Han An. He sent Shen Moyu a picture of today's Chinese notes and told him to take a look and come back after he had rested.
What is supposed to be a cold and impersonal electronic communication software has, at this moment, become the warm harbor that wanderers yearn for most.
He read through the greetings these people had sent him again and again, and the part of his heart that had been most deprived of nourishment gradually became moist.
Normally a composed and aloof academic star, he was surprisingly touched by the text messages from his classmates when he was sick. It's kind of childish, really.
But……
He scrolled through the greetings again, but it seemed none of them came from Su Jinning.
He lowered his eyes, and his hands, which had been holding the phone, fell to the ground as if deflated.
He bit his lip, the pain that had just been overshadowed by his emotions resurfacing.
"Cough cough cough..." He coughed violently a few more times, his fingers gripping the sheets turning white from the pain. He finally managed to stop, but then his head started to throb again.
He sighed. He really hated being sick. He also hated how some people ignored him.
Why is he the only one who doesn't send me a message to check on me? Why should he?
Why can't one of these greetings be from him?
As if he had something stuck in his throat, he buried his head in the pillow, and the hot breath he exhaled from his nose bounced back onto his face. Soon he was covered in sweat.
His thoughts stopped there, and he snuggled back into bed and fell asleep.
But this time, he had a dream.
He dreamed of a boy wearing a white sports uniform...
It was probably a beautiful afternoon, with the occasional chirping of cicadas coming from the nearby woods. His consciousness in the dream was hazy, but he seemed to know clearly that it was a hot and restless summer.
He leaned on the boy's shoulder, quietly looking at the huge plastic track in front of him.
It felt like there were students running on the track, and you could occasionally hear shouts and laughter; it all felt so real.
The afternoon sun was still hot and warm, but the two of them still clung to each other affectionately.
The boy's shoulder felt comfortable and safe to lean on. In his dream, he looked up and saw that they were wearing headphones, but he couldn't hear any music playing from them.
The boy beside him suddenly asked gently, "Does it sound good?"
In my dream, he smiled faintly and replied, "It sounds nice."
The dream seemed peaceful, as if as long as he didn't yearn to see the boy's face, they could stay quietly in this beautiful afternoon. The two sat on the lawn chatting, forgetting what they talked about as soon as it was over. But the only impression he had of the boy in the white jersey was probably the number "14" on the back of his jersey.
I don't know how long I slept, or how long I talked with the boy in my dream. When I woke up, the clock on the wall had already struck eleven.
I slept for almost three more hours.
"Awake?" The voice from beside him startled Shen Moyu, because it sounded exactly like the voice of the boy in the pure white jersey in his dream.
He suddenly turned around and looked over.
He noticed that Su Jinning was resting her chin on her hand, staring intently at him.
Upon making eye contact, Shen Moyu couldn't help but feel that it was more accurate to say that the boy's voice resembled Su Jinning than Su Jinning's.
However, what Shen Moyu cared about even more was...
How could someone who hadn't even sent me a message suddenly appear in front of me?
"You..." His throat was inflamed, and he had just woken up, so he was very hoarse. He tried to sit up, but he couldn't muster any strength in his hands.
Seeing this, Su Jinning quickly stepped forward to help him sit up slowly, her eyes fixed on him.
"You, aren't you in class?" Shen Moyu asked, a mixture of surprise and delight. Seeing that the person in front of him didn't speak, he became more talkative: "Why are you here?"
Su Jinning couldn't help but curse him in her heart for having a fever that had damaged his brain. She stared at him for a moment, about to speak, when she heard Shen Moyu cough violently.
"Cough cough...cough cough!" Shen Moyu trembled all over, and even his cough became heavy, indicating that his throat inflammation was very serious.
Su Jinning quickly grabbed the warm water from the bedside table and gently helped Shen Moyu drink it.
He looked at Shen Moyu's flushed face and her curly hair that had been sleeping for half a day, and couldn't help but want to laugh.
I've never seen Shen Moyu so seriously ill before, but now that I have, I feel a pang of sympathy for her.