No. 69 Dust of the World
Even the most winding roads ultimately lead to the same destination.
Just like in my previous life, some things, no matter how hard you fought, ended the same way.
The boss always knew who deserved a promotion. And for those who didn’t, he offered encouragement and hope, perpetuating the illusion of progress.
But even in despair, we found ways to color our own worlds.
“Wherever I go, your gentle gaze follows. Be proud of me, deeply proud…”
The hopeful yet melancholic melody streaming through my earphones calmed my restless heart.
“The world unfolds before me, gently opening and closing…”
Xiaodie loved to listen to music on our way home, one earbud in her ear, the other pressed against mine. It was her way of making our relationship feel more “couple-like,” she claimed.
The entire school knew about us now.
Or rather, they knew about our ambiguous, undefined relationship. We were more than friends, yet not quite lovers. After all, we had only held hands and shared a few innocent kisses.
“For in this world, we are all ephemeral…”
Three days had passed since my last communication with my father.
Miracles were rare, especially when confronted with the harsh realities of life.
We could chase our dreams, but sometimes, we had to bow to the inevitable.
“Yi Yao…”
Xiaodie’s voice, soft and hesitant, broke through my thoughts as we neared her neighborhood.
“Yes?”
“Are you… sad?”
“Why?”
“You tried so hard, but your mother still… Are you sad?”
“If anyone’s sad, it should be my past self.”
I pedaled along the empty road, the melody from Xiaodie’s music player filling the silence. “I cried for hours that day, until my throat was raw and I passed out from exhaustion. For days afterward, I was in a daze, unable to accept that she was gone.”
“But…”
“You’re stronger than I was, Xiaodie.”
I had only lost my mother. She had lost everyone.
We had to live in the present.
“And… thank you.”
I stopped the bicycle in front of her apartment building and met her gaze.
“For what?”
“For everything you did for my mother. For the money, for the company.”
100,000 yuan might not seem like much to some families, but for Xiaodie, it was her entire inheritance.
She averted her gaze. “It was the least I could do.”
You have no idea what money truly means to people.
A sixteen-year-old girl, raised in comfort and privilege, wouldn’t understand the weight of those numbers until she faced true hardship.
“Do you… have any money left?”
“Maybe…”
“I’m serious, Xiaodie.”
“Okay, okay. At this rate, we’ll run out of money in about three months.”
She leaned against me, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, Yi Yao…”
Ouyang Dati hadn’t secured any financial assistance for Xiaobai’s care. And with his cousin’s situation, we wouldn’t be seeing him anytime soon.
Xiaodie had initially assumed she could stay with us for a while, figuring out her finances later. But the surgery had drained our savings, and the subsequent treatment for the infection had only made things worse. We were practically broke, relying on the generosity of relatives to make ends meet.
Sometimes, I thought about Pai Ge. Money was nothing to him. Whether I approached him as a member of the Pai family or as a member of the Black Dragon Society, he would help. Any problem that could be solved with money was no problem at all.
But that was my last resort, my final lifeline.
“How’s the Weibo thing going?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Um… we have about a thousand views and a few dozen followers.”
She hesitated. “Yi Yao, maybe we should just shut it down.”
Her defeated tone surprised me. “Why?”
“Because… cosplay props are expensive. At this rate, we’ll never be as popular as those famous cosplayers.”
“But wasn’t that your dream?”
“Dreams have to be grounded in reality.” She took my hands. “Yi Yao, I used to think you were too focused on reality. Now I realize I was the naive one.”
She pulled out a gun from a hidden compartment in her skirt, her fingers tracing the emblem that gleamed in the fading sunlight. “My father left me so much, and I squandered it all…”
That gun alone was worth more than six months of living expenses for an average family.
The pressure was getting to her.
“Huang Yingdie.” It was the first time I had addressed her by her full name. “Remember what you said? We were going to embrace the world of anime together. Dancing, streaming, drawing, cosplaying. Those were your dreams, weren’t they?”
“But…”
“Then don’t give up.” My voice was firm, resolute. “This isn’t a terminal illness. It’s not an impossible dream. I’m telling you, as someone who knows the realities of this world, that you can achieve your dreams if you work hard enough. We can’t afford props? We’ll make them ourselves. We don’t know how? We’ll learn. One stitch at a time. We can’t dance? We’ll wake up an hour earlier every day and practice.”
“Life is long, Xiaodie. Even though my mother is gone, I still have my father. And I have you.”
Even if I lost everything, I still had Yi Yao, my present self, my family.
“You…” Her eyes met mine, their usual sparkle returning. “You support me?”
“Of course. You’re my girlfriend. But be warned, it’s going to be tough.” I smiled. “What do you want for dinner?”
“…”
The small villa her father had left her was tucked away in a quiet corner of the complex.
It was a two-story house with a spacious garden, but it was mostly unfinished, lacking furniture and decorations. Only Xiaodie’s room had a semblance of warmth and personality.
As for Xiaobai, we had relegated it to the garden. True to Ouyang Dati’s words, the tiger cub, possessed by the spirit of a dog, was surprisingly well-behaved. It spent its days lounging in the flowerbeds, obediently following our commands when we were around.
“Xiaobai?”
I returned home, laden with groceries, and headed to the garden, a bowl of raw meat in hand.
“Woof…”
A large, orange and black head emerged from a thicket of overgrown weeds.
“Purrrr…”
Recognizing me, Xiaobai lumbered out of its hiding place, yawned, and closed its eyes.
“Still sleepy?”
I rinsed the food bowl and placed the fresh meat inside. “Eat when you’re hungry.”
“Snore.”
It rolled over and went back to sleep.
“It’s living the good life,” Xiaodie commented, joining me in the garden. “Are there any anime where the main character owns a tiger?”
“Toradora?”
“That’s a tiger in the title, not a pet tiger.”
“Hayate the Combat Butler?”
“You’ve seen that old show?”
“Do I look that old-fashioned?”
Thanks to Xiaobai, our grocery bill had quadrupled. And this was just a cub. I shuddered to think about how much it would cost to feed a full-grown tiger.
“It’s still crazy to think we have a tiger living in our backyard.”
I turned to go back inside, but my phone rang.
It was my father. His voice, weary and strained, echoed through the receiver.
“Yi Yao, come home.”
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