"Yes, I've grown them. The roses in front of your window were grown by your father, weren't they?"
Su Jinning stared at the two pots of roses, smiling wistfully: "I've grown them before."
Su Yi frowned and glanced behind him, as if trying to figure out which pot it was.
“Not here.” Su Jinning looked at Su Yi with amusement, but her eyes suddenly dimmed: “He died long ago.”
"Last winter, I planted a rose in a pot. I took meticulous care of it, trying every day to find ways to keep it alive." Su Jinning took a breath: "But it still didn't survive the winter and withered and died in my pot."
Su Yi was taken aback for a moment, then scratched his head: "If you want, Dad will get you two more..."
"I only like that one..." Su Jinning said softly, the blanket covering half her face, leaving only her teary eyes visible. "Nothing else will do..."
He encountered that rose, but ultimately died by his own hand.
So what's the use of loving or not loving? Roses don't bloom in the cold winter.
"Dad, I'm tired... I want to sleep," Su Jinning said sullenly, burying her head in the blanket.
The last time Su Yi saw him like this was because of his mother. He knew something must have happened, but he couldn't guess what it was. He patted Su Jinning's back and turned off the light for him: "Sweet dreams, baby."
The room went completely dark, and Su Jinning's tears fell like pearls from a broken string.
As Zhou Xingqi said, this ray of light was stolen from him, as if its appearance was only to help him understand something, such as youthful arrogance, living towards the sun, as well as cruelty and oblivion. It came and went in a hurry and never truly belonged to him.
It turns out that roses also have an expiration date, and some people are destined to disappear into the crowd once they let go.
But he could never forget that during that scorching and frenzied flowering season, there was someone who became his summer's only.
——
In fact, Shen Moyu particularly hated rainy days; the gloomy weather always made her feel annoyed. It was as if she were locked in a dark wooden box.
But today seemed different; he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at it for a long time.
The anime on his phone kept playing, showing hilarious scenes, while the annoying rain pattered outside the window. The two blended together, just like his contradictory feelings.
He turned on his phone and glanced at the date: April 1st.
The notification sounded that the flight booking was successful, and he sighed deeply.
In two days, I will be leaving this place where I have lived for eighteen years. Actually, I'm not really reluctant to leave. It's just that when you leave a place, you always feel a moment of sadness, and then you start to think of many things...
The notebook in his hand had slipped to the ground at some point. He bent down to pick it up and began to focus his thoughts back on the notebook.
This was neither an expensive item nor a farewell gift; he simply wanted to do something within his power for Su Jinning before leaving completely, even if it was insignificant.
Then the door opened. Zhou Xingqi walked in carrying lunch and habitually placed it in front of him: "Brother, eat up, you haven't eaten all day."
Looking at Shen Moyu's increasingly gaunt face, he felt a pang of heartache.
"Just leave it there, I'll eat it later," Shen Moyu said casually.
Zhou Xingqi walked over and looked at the tattered notebook. Scattered pieces of paper were piled up next to Shen Moyu. He took some tape and started sticking them on bit by bit.
"Just a few more sheets to finish gluing. You can take it to him today." Shen Moyu tore off another piece of tape and glued the two torn pieces of paper together: "I've already booked the plane ticket for noon the day after tomorrow."
Zhou Xingqi's heart skipped a beat, and he nodded.
Clutching the notebook that Shen Moyu had spent a whole day and night pasting, he dialed Su Jinning's number.
After the phone rang for a long time, Su Jinning's voice finally came through, but with a hint of doubt: "Zhou Xingqi?"
"Hmm." Zhou Xingqi responded, then sighed heavily: "Do you have time tonight? I need to talk to you about something."
"I'm busy. Let's talk on the phone."
"My brother has something for you." Zhou Xingqi seized on Su Jinning's weakness, and she paused for a long time before asking, "What time? Where?"
"Six o'clock. The quiet bar on the back street of your house."
Although it was supposed to be six o'clock, Zhou Xingqi had already arrived at the bar.
It wasn't dark yet, so there were very few people. Because it was a quiet bar, it was unusually peaceful.
"Here, this is for you, have a taste." Jeremiah stood at the bar, one hand supporting his chin, the other pushing the glass towards him.
Zhou Xingqi rolled his eyes: "The cocktail you mixed is too strong, I'm not drinking it."
Jeremiah pouted, annoyed that he was being unromantic, and then downed the drink himself: "I'd rather give it to you than waste it."
The shop door was pushed open, and the crisp sound of the wind chimes caught the attention of two people at the bar. Su Jinning was wearing a clean white t-shirt and sweatpants, and with her alluring appearance, her cool and aloof demeanor instantly attracted the attention of all the girls in the shop.
Su Jinning sat down expressionlessly and immediately asked, "Where are the things?"
Zhou Xingqi leaned against the bar, not answering his question, but suddenly becoming serious, "How have you been lately?"
Su Jinning was completely baffled as to why he would ask such a question, but she did try to recall it herself.
He twitched the corner of his mouth: "So-so."
“My brother isn’t doing well,” Zhou Xingqi said. “He fainted yesterday.”
Su Jinning stiffened and turned to look at him.
"But don't worry, it's all over now." Zhou Xingqi took the fruit wine that Jiehe handed him: "It was due to overwork and malnutrition."
Su Jinning suddenly clenched his fists. He probably knew perfectly well why he had fainted.
"Here it is." Zhou Xingqi pulled a tattered notebook out of his bag. It was obvious that it had been torn and then glued back together.
Su Jinning took the notebook, flipped through it, and saw it filled with densely packed study notes. Every knowledge point, key formulas, some important points for the college entrance exam, and the types of questions he often got wrong were all clearly listed. To ensure he wouldn't understand, explanations were written in blue pen under each formula. Every subject, every unit, had notes…
The notebook was thick, with every page filled with dense writing, clearly showing how long he had been writing and conceiving the ideas.
His heart sank, and he stroked the marks left by the adhesive tape: "Who tore this off..."