No. 60 Even Roses Wither
Returning to the classroom, I found Xiaodie fast asleep, her earlier jealousy forgotten.
Her face, pale and serene, rested on her folded arms, her black knee-high socks dangling beneath the desk. The sight of her sleeping so peacefully amidst the dreary weather tugged at my heartstrings.
So much for being worried about me getting snatched away by some random boy.
I gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from her forehead and took out my textbook.
I had already mastered most of the middle school curriculum. Getting into Municipal High School No. 1 or No. 5 would be a breeze. Even in high school, I would only need to skim through the material and review the exam papers to keep up with my classmates. Academically, I had nothing to worry about.
The pressure of the college entrance exams stemmed mainly from financial concerns. If, during the exam, a police officer suddenly burst in and announced that your parents had died in a car accident, leaving you an inheritance of a hundred million yuan, I doubt anyone would care about choosing the correct grammatical particle. They’d probably throw down their pens and walk out, shouting, “Screw this, I’m rich!”
But such things didn’t happen in real life. So most of us had to endure the pressure, the endless cycle of studying and exams.
Only the poor dreamed of changing their fate. Only the weak yearned for strength.
I was an anomaly. My worries were of a different nature.
My mother’s illness, my father’s impending betrayal.
I understood his situation. He was struggling to support our family on his meager income from the fruit stand. Now, with my mother’s medical bills piling up, he was stretched thin, working long hours at the shop, visiting the hospital, caring for her. He had no time for himself, no respite from the constant worry and exhaustion. Sometimes, he was woken up in the middle of the night by emergency calls. It was taking a toll on him.
But what bothered me was his silence.
He hadn’t told me.
He hadn’t told the future me.
I had died in that other world, believing that my stepmother was someone my father had met online after my mother’s death. I had tried so hard to bond with her, with her son, unaware of the truth.
Well, there was nothing I could do about it now. I would just have to wait and see how things played out.
The morning passed in a blur of classes and studying.
Our monthly exams were scheduled for next Wednesday.
“Mmm… is it over?”
Xiaodie stirred awake, rubbing her eyes. She had slept through the entire morning, a first for her. “How are you so energetic, Yi Yao?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
Because it’s been a long time since I’ve experienced the simple joys of being a student.
“Let’s grab some lunch.”
I gathered my books and pulled her along, ignoring her question.
If there was one thing our school was known for, it was its lax rules.
Due to a long-standing dispute with a property developer, the school cafeteria wasn’t run by the school itself. This had led to a relaxed policy regarding meals. Students were allowed to leave campus during breakfast, lunch, and dinner breaks. At lunchtime, a wave of hungry teenagers would flood the nearby food street, transforming it into a bustling, aromatic haven.
This policy had also been a boon for the surrounding businesses, with clothing stores and cafes thriving alongside the food stalls.
“Did you bring an umbrella, Yi Yao?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t need mine!”
She happily shoved her floral umbrella back into her bag and linked her arm with mine. “What did you say to that rich boy who confessed to you?”
“I told him I wasn’t interested in boys.”
We stepped outside, the rain creating a shimmering curtain over the school grounds. The sight, strangely enough, lifted my spirits.
Yes… to be here, to have a second chance at life, to be surrounded by so much potential… I was truly blessed.
“Xiaodie, why don’t you move in with us?” I said casually, as we walked along the wet, cobblestone path.
She was about my height, maybe a centimeter or two shorter. Sharing an umbrella wasn’t awkward.
“Oh? Are you finally making a move on me?”
She turned to me, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Would that be considered leading a lamb to the slaughter?”
“What are you talking about?” I lightly smacked her head. “I’m serious. Your house is too far from school. It’s manageable now, but once you start attending No. 1, it’ll be a nightmare. Waking up at 5 AM every day will take a toll on your health.”
“But… what if I move in with you? Will you do bad things to me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I glanced at her, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “So you want me to do bad things to you?”
“Of course! I’ve been waiting for you to make a move! We’ve even slept in the same bed…”
“Don’t be silly.”
“Ugh… we’re dating, but you’re still so distant.”
“I never knew you had such a devious side.”
“My personality is fluid. I can be a tsundere loli if you prefer. Or maybe you’re into yanderes?”
I chuckled, stroking her hair. “Let’s focus on getting our lives in order first. We can revisit that topic later.”
Outside the school gates, a quiet street stretched before us. A narrow alley branched off to the west, leading to the bustling food street.
Across the street, a row of cafes and teahouses offered refuge from the rain. Some were open to the public, providing a place for students who lived far away to rest during their lunch break.
“Yi Yao… I know this must be hard for you,” Xiaodie said as we entered the alley.
“What do you mean?”
“Because… you said your mother is going to die a year from now. She has a terminal illness. She might still be clinging to hope, but you… you already know the outcome.”
I fell silent.
She was right. Witnessing my mother’s death had left an indelible mark on my soul. The pain of knowing, of being powerless to change the inevitable…
“Is there nothing we can do?”
I shook my head. “Her illness is not like acute leukemia, which can be treated with a bone marrow transplant. Even then, the success rate is only around 20%. And even if it’s successful, they only consider it a permanent cure if there’s no relapse within five years. So if it comes back in the sixth year, or if there are complications, they’ll just tell you to get another transplant or leave it to fate.”
Transplant surgery wasn’t a miracle cure. Take kidney transplants, for example. They were risky, and even if successful, the patient had to take immunosuppressants for the rest of their life, weakening their immune system and making them vulnerable to infections. The transplanted organ also had a limited lifespan, merely prolonging life, not guaranteeing a cure.
And both options were incredibly expensive. When it came to medicine, money could buy you health, and it could buy you time.
It was a harsh reality, but a reality nonetheless.
If you couldn’t afford it, all you could do was live a healthy lifestyle and hope for the best.
“I see…” She hugged my arm tightly. “No matter what happens, I’ll be here for you.”
“Just try to be a little more obedient, and I’ll be happy.”
Her bad habits—sleeping late, skipping meals, being picky about food—would take a while to break.
As we walked, I noticed a group of men approaching us, their expressions hostile. I pulled Xiaodie closer, my senses on high alert. “Stay close. Something doesn’t feel right.”
Upper Capital City, before 2017, was a dangerous place.
Before Huang Tianhai’s return and his subsequent crackdown on crime, the city was riddled with lawlessness—robberies, gang fights, reckless driving. Certain areas were practically no-go zones after dark.
The men fanned out, surrounding us.
Other students, sensing trouble, quickly turned and fled.
It was a scene I had witnessed before, in my other life.
After graduating, while searching for a job in another city, I had been mugged in broad daylight. People had watched, but no one intervened. They had simply walked past, pretending not to notice.
When faced with danger, our instinct is to flee. It’s a natural response.
“Wait,” I said, as Xiaodie reached for the gun concealed beneath her skirt. “Let’s see what they want.”
“But there are so many of them! Is your school always this chaotic?”
Several men had already blocked our path.
“Well, well, well. Look at this pretty little thing. Got any cash on you? We’re a bit short lately.”
One, two, three, four, five… There were at least seven or eight of them, their confident swagger suggesting they were seasoned criminals, not just petty thugs.
But if they were just ordinary delinquents, we could handle them…
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