When I was little, I had once come to the hospital alone.
I can’t remember what illness I had back then—only that the memory is shrouded in a haze of loneliness.
The walls were a ghastly white.
The ceiling was the same.
Lying on that bed, I could occasionally hear sobbing or sighs drifting through the air.
On aimless walks, I’d see adults sitting on benches, faces etched with bitterness or hollow numbness.
All those oppressive images funneled a mess of negative emotions into my young heart, quietly forming my first impressions of life and death.
I still remember: back then, the thing I looked forward to most each day was Gu Fan visiting me after school.
His carefree laughter always pulled me out of that heavy atmosphere, even if only for a little while.
Back then, he accompanied me.
And now…
I’m the one accompanying Gu Fan for his follow-up at the hospital.
After he noticed the zipper left open in the parking lot—with a corner of the medical booklet peeking out—I immediately bowed and apologized.
I admitted to going through his bag and told him I’d accept whatever punishment he saw fit.
Of course, I knew those were just empty words.
Gu Fan would never raise a hand against me, nor would he speak harshly.
That apology was mostly a placebo, meant to calm my nerves and keep my legs from shaking with fear.
Knowing his personality, he probably wouldn’t react strongly on the surface.
But what he truly thinks deep down… I can’t say.
Maybe by now, in his mind, I’m already labeled as “someone who snoops through others’ things.”
It wouldn’t be surprising if he starts to keep his distance.
Still, if the price of ensuring Gu Fan’s health is him growing distant from me… then I suppose I’m willing to pay it.
Probably?
Even in my own thoughts, I hesitated.
I couldn’t give a firm answer no matter how long I wrestled with it.
Dammit, don’t I want Gu Fan to get better?
I clenched my hand into a fist and gave my stomach a soft punch.
If I were at home instead of in the infirmary, I probably would’ve beaten myself black and blue—anything to drive out these selfish thoughts swirling inside my head.
Standing beside Gu Fan, the doctor was explaining his current physical condition using a series of technical medical terms.
I couldn’t understand most of it, but I managed to grasp the general idea.
According to the doctor…
Gu Fan is basically recovered now?
I didn’t dare believe my own guess—not entirely.
After all, people are masters of self-deception.
I patiently waited for the doctor to finish speaking.
I had expected he’d prescribe some medicine for Gu Fan to take home, but instead, all we got was:
“No need for any medication. You’re in great shape now. Just don’t overdo your workouts.”
To be honest, the moment I heard the doctor definitively say Gu Fan had recovered, I was so happy that my mind blanked for a good ten seconds.
By the time I snapped out of it, Gu Fan had already packed up and was about to walk out of the exam room.
I followed him out, then made up an excuse about leaving something behind so I could slip back and stop the doctor who was about to switch shifts—just to confirm once more that Gu Fan was truly healthy.
“There’s no trace left of his past illness.”
That was the doctor’s exact phrasing.
I had come empty-handed and left empty-handed. I quietly followed behind Gu Fan, from the elevator to the hospital exit.
He remained silent the entire time, not saying a single word to me.
His silence left me unsure whether it was okay to express my happiness at all.
Hmm… Gu Fan’s time isn’t limited to three years anymore.
As his childhood friend, of course I should be happy—he can stay by my side for even longer now.
But… once the initial joy faded, unease quietly crept in.
Will Gu Fan change now that he’s recovered?
Now that he has so much more time ahead of him, will he still be willing to “waste” any of it on me?
And this worry… isn’t just about Gu Fan.
It’s about myself, too.
Do I still deserve to be by Gu Fan’s side?
A swirl of mixed feelings churned in my mind, like crystallized bitterness rising to the surface of my heart.
After carefully chewing on it, all that remained was an unpleasant, lingering bitterness in my mouth.
I wanted so badly to say something, but when I looked at Gu Fan, his gaze had drifted far away—lost in some distant place I couldn’t reach.
His hand hung down by his side, nervously twisting and squeezing the fabric of his shirt.
After waiting a long while without Gu Fan starting a conversation, I licked my lips and decided to take the initiative.
“Gu Fan, aren’t you happy?”
His expression was unexpectedly calm, as if nothing special had happened today—just like any other day.
That only made me think more deeply.
Was Gu Fan still hiding something from me?
Just like with his illness—if I hadn’t had memories from before, I might still be kept in the dark.
It had always been like this.
Once, I ran into Gu Fan on the street and noticed he looked terrible.
When I asked about his health, he just brushed me off with “It’s nothing, just a little uncomfortable.”
By the time his condition worsened, I barely had any chance to be with him, since he was in and out of the hospital every few days.
Slowly, Gu Fan’s eyes refocused on a point right in front of him, as if he had just arrived after a long journey from a faraway place.
His gaze carried the faint detachment of a stranger in a foreign land.
His sharp brows furrowed slightly, and then he scratched his head in frustration.
“Uh, I guess I’m not exactly unhappy. I was excited before when I had the checkup, but that feeling’s passed now.”
“So then, why are you worried?”
I didn’t want to ask half a question anymore.
Whatever Gu Fan was thinking, I was determined to get to the bottom of it.
Maybe… that dream I had this morning was a premonition.
If I keep letting Gu Fan hide things from me, maybe someday he really will be like in that dream—doing everything without telling me a word, just going through daily life with me barely involved, and then having nothing to do with me at all.
I’d rather Gu Fan hit me, grab my hair, and verbally abuse me than be treated with cold indifference.
That way, I’d just be invisible—like air.
All those years growing up together would feel like nothing but an empty lie, and that thought is unbearably painful.
If I keep pressing him again and again, maybe his patience threshold will gradually rise?
It’s just a guess, but I have to try.
“Worries…? I’m just thinking about what we should eat tonight.”
Huh?
Just thinking about dinner?
Wait… did I just hear something important?
Why did he say ‘we’?
“We? Gu Fan, are you going to take me with you?”
Although we’ve eaten together quite a few times, it’s still far less than what I wish for.
Plus, for various reasons, most of those times we were stuck eating in the awkward atmosphere of school.
“Let’s celebrate your recovery. Do you have work tonight, Zhinian?”
“Ah… no, no. I don’t have to work today, so I can stay home.”
Actually, I do have work, but for this rare and meaningful dinner, it’s definitely worth asking for time off—even quitting on the spot wouldn’t be out of the question.
“That’s good, then today’s time is all mine, okay?”
“Mm-hmm, okay…”
The corners of my lips kept curling up as I nodded at Gu Fan, completely unable to hide how excited I was right now.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.