Early in the morning, the temperature plummeted and a light drizzle fell. The streets on New Year's Eve were completely deserted, as every family was gathered together for the reunion.
Although fireworks and firecrackers were prohibited in the city, there were still a few who slipped through the net and secretly lit them, welcoming the arrival of the New Year in the quiet, secluded alleys.
Kusanagi sent me a message every once in a while.
Hunan is dotted with lakes, where clear streams and lush, leafy rivers can be seen everywhere. There are also local snacks unique to my hometown, as well as many sights that cannot be seen in Japan, which I couldn't help but send to her.
Inohara went to Kusanagi's house the very next day. It is said that when she learned I would be back in China for a full week, she immediately packed up her luggage and moved into Kusanagi's house.
Worried that the two might have another conflict, I even specially sent a message to Kusanagi, telling her to restrain her "young lady" temper and be nicer to her friend. I didn't expect this girl to reply with an intimate photo of her and Inohara with their arms linked, completely dispelling my worries.
The two young, beautiful girls leaned against each other, looking like a perfect and pleasing pair.
I stared at the photo for a few seconds, speechless; it seemed my worries were unnecessary. Closing the photo interface, I felt a vague sense of discomfort in my heart and had no choice but to turn away to smoke.
The first and second days of the Lunar New Year followed one after another. Following custom, we first went to visit the graves, then went to pay New Year's calls to relatives, where I met my aunt and grandmother, whom I hadn't seen for a long time, as well as my cousin who had married last year.
"This child went abroad to study! Yes! She is so promising! She's even studying at a medical university; she will definitely be at the director level in the future."
I shyly waved my hand, "It's just an ordinary Tokyo Medical University."
"Is the study pressure high over there? Are you used to the food?"
I told the truth, "Japanese food is relatively light, and it tastes pretty good."
"That's good. Your mom really spared no expense, spending so much money to send you abroad. You must repay your mom and dad well in the future."
"Yes, yes, our family has finally produced a promising child. You must repay your parents well in the future."
"And I must also thank Uncle Cui."
"Oh right, Fourth Uncle helped a lot in Japan, didn't he?"
Dad replied, "Fourth Uncle has a large family business and is busy outside, so he rarely comes back. My daughter owes a lot to him; I really didn't spoil this younger brother in vain when we were kids."
"Fourth Uncle is doing better and better. I heard he opened a company in Japan and is making a ton of money..."
"By the way, how old are you this year?" a relative asked while eating an orange. "Are you almost 23?"
"I'm 24 this year, 25 by traditional count."
"Then won't you be 27 or 28 when you finish your studies? You must hurry up and find a boyfriend. A girl's youth is very short; don't just focus on studying!"
"It's not good for a girl to be too successful either; if your standards are too high, it'll be difficult to find a boyfriend!"
I knew it would be this kind of topic, so I smiled awkwardly, "I haven't met anyone suitable for the time being."
"Oh dear, we are all doing this for your own good."
My aunt sat next to me, patting my shoulder earnestly, "You should find a boyfriend and get married early. For a girl, having children is just a matter of time. The earlier you give birth, the better it is for your health. You're studying medicine, so you should understand this well. Don't just focus on studying, reading dead books; important life events are also very important."
"Yes, yes, have children while you're young, so your mom can help you take care of them." My uncle nodded in agreement while holding my little nephew.
I didn't know how to answer and felt helpless, surrounded by relatives.
"Oh right, my aunt has a colleague whose son is quite good. He graduated from Tsinghua, works in IT, is single, and is also a local from Hunan. Why don't you two meet up sometime?"
"Thank you, Auntie." I stood up, trying to escape the atmosphere of being besieged by relatives, "If it's just to get to know each other..."
"I'll find his WeChat and send it to you. I've met that young man; he's tall and sturdy, nearly 1.8 meters, wears glasses, and is very refined." Auntie took out her new Apple phone and swiped vigorously through her WeChat list, "Whether it's height, age, or education, you two seem like a perfect match~"
I helplessly interrupted her teasing, "Auntie!"
"Alright, alright, we're starting to play Pao Hu Zi (a type of card game) and one table is full for Qiuren (Changsha Mahjong). Is everyone here?"
"Let's go!"
Watching the elder relatives go to the card tables, I breathed a sigh of relief. This kind of pressure was no less than the year-end exams, and perhaps even worse.
After the meal, the laughter returned to calm, the card tables were scattered, and the bustling guests had all dispersed.
An orange desk lamp lit up in the room.
My phone showed a friend request from a profile picture of a man with a sports car, named "Brother Jiang." There was also a voice message from my aunt, roughly saying things about being polite and getting along well.
I accepted the friend request, we exchanged a few polite greetings, and after seeing his appearance on his Moments, I realized he wasn't my type, so I simply set him to "Do Not Disturb."
The little red dot on the top right corner of the avatar kept flashing, indicating new messages. I didn't want to reply and languidly threw the phone aside. From childhood to now, I had never refused the demands of my elders. Whether it was extracurricular activities, my major, what dishes I liked to eat, or which university I attended, it was never my choice, and I had long been used to it.
Why this time... I stared blankly, lost in thought.
"Daughter, you're not asleep yet?" Mom gently pushed open my bedroom door and said softly, "It's almost twelve o'clock, why aren't you asleep?"
"I can't sleep."
"Then chat with Mom?"
I buried my face in the pillow and tacitly agreed.
She walked in on tiptoe; Dad had drunk a lot of Baijiu today and was snoring away in the next room, so she was careful not to wake him.
Mom sat at the head of the bed, the dim light revealing the wrinkles around her eyes, the traces of time plain to see. "Without realizing it, you've grown so big." She pinched my cheek, "During the time you weren't home, I kept dreaming of you when you were little, your awkward little appearance, you were so cute."
"Why bring that up?"
"Because this is the first time you've traveled so far, and you'll be gone for several years."
I kept my voice very soft, "It's not like I'm not coming back."
"Mothers always worry about their children. Otherwise, why would they say 'The thread in the hands of a loving mother, the clothes on the body of a wandering son'?"
She curled the corners of her mouth and leaned against the headboard, "Do you remember when you were little, you really liked a doll that your aunt was giving to another child? Your aunt asked if you wanted it, and even though you liked it very much, you stubbornly stayed silent. Your aunt tried to give it to you, but you wouldn't take it. Later, when you saw your aunt really give the doll to the other child, you cried for days out of grievance and regret."
How many years ago was that? I was a bit embarrassed, "I didn't cry..."
"Mom has never seen you cry that hard." She laughed, her lipstick smudging at the corners of her mouth, then turned it into a sigh, "Mom is worried about you."
She stroked my long hair, "You might not remember, but Mom has always remembered. You were a quiet child since you were little, didn't like to talk, and kept everything to yourself. You never said what you liked or disliked, and you never took the initiative to fight for anything. You could even hold back from eating your favorite food when it was placed in front of you, waiting for the adults to start eating first. Because you were too obedient, your dad and I always had to confirm over and over again that you really liked it before we would buy it for you. Mom is just worried that with this kind of personality, you'll be wronged when you're out there."
I listened in silence.
"I don't know who you inherited this personality from," she smiled, "but at the same time, you are also a self-disciplined, rational, and restrained good child who can control your own emotions, which is something many people cannot do. But it is precisely because of this that Mom worries about you. You keep everything in your heart and don't learn how to express yourself, so it's hard for others to get into your heart."
I slightly curled my lips, wanting to say something, but hesitated for a few seconds and remained silent.
"I know, Mom."
That doll, of course I remember.
It was a very beautiful and exquisite toy. I was deeply attracted to her at first sight and stared at her intently for a long time. Her hair was as deep as seaweed, and her eyes were as black and sparkling as diamonds; her whole body seemed to scream expensive. But she was bought by my aunt for someone else, and even the gift box had written on it, "Happy Birthday to xx," she belonged to someone else.
As a young child, I really wanted to take advantage of my ignorance to throw a tantrum and make a scene to possess this doll, but the adults said, "Little Mizuki is so sensible, she probably wouldn't like toys, right?"
"Mizuki's grades are so good, she doesn't have time to play with toys."
"Why don't we test if she likes it? She's not reacting at all!"
"This child is just wooden. Fortunately, she's a girl; if she were a boy, he wouldn't be able to find a wife, hahaha..."
These words made me, only a few years old, easily retreat.
I am a good child, an obedient child; the adults are right. How could I be so unreasonable, saying I like toys, and failing their expectations of me?
I looked at the toy many times with reluctance, deeply imprinting her appearance in my heart, imagining her shining brilliantly in the hands of another child, her hair combed as beautifully as a waterfall, and then I was silently happy.
I watched her for a whole afternoon.
The toy was really given away, and I could no longer see her appearance. This was more painful than I imagined. As a young child, I was overwhelmed by the sudden blow and could no longer bear the comfort of being an "obedient child," so I burst into tears.
My vision gradually blurred, the scene spun around, and I was sobbing so hard that my consciousness sank into a deeper, dim dream, all the images overlapping, including the sadness of my childhood.
"Alright, sleep early, we have to get up early tomorrow." Mom tucked the blanket for me, "Look at your phone less, remember what Mom just said."
"Okay," I said, "Good night."
"If there's anything you like or want, just tell Mom, I'll make it for you tomorrow."
"Okay."
The bedroom returned to darkness, and the starlight of the night seeped through the partially covered gap.
I turned over, feeling drowsy, my hands and feet feeling light and floating.
Like... want.
Like.
It was dark and cool, shrouded in white, misty rain, with water vapor everywhere. If I waved my hand, I could touch the moon dust and falling stars.
Suddenly, a pair of cold eyes flashed by, sparkling with black light, wild and arrogant.
An indescribable emotion surged in my chest like a tide, my heart aching and swollen, and even after a long while, I couldn't slow down my heartbeat.
I closed my eyes and slowly counted sheep.
The long-awaited tiredness finally struck my tormented heart.
When I woke up, the sun was shining brightly outside the window, and the sound of a grinder came from the kitchen, the mellow fragrance of soybeans being crushed.
"Get up, go brush your teeth and wash your face, then drink a cup of hot water."
"Okay."
After washing up, I held a cup of warm soy milk and opened my computer to check my emails.
Professor Yamashita had assigned homework before the break: the whole grade needed to submit a research report on surgical medical care before the next semester, with no word limit, as the final document of the last semester to be recorded in our personal files.
I had been considering it for a few days and planned to start with survey data on treatment costs and reimbursement ratios for congenital diseases, to see if many people in Japan, like that woman, chose not to undergo surgery because they could not afford the high costs.
It is said that after the last donation, kind-hearted people continued to transfer money to the account, and very quickly, the surgery costs were exceeded. Around the end of last year, accompanied by her younger sister, she finally underwent this life-threatening heart surgery.
The post-operative recovery went well, and she has likely been discharged by now. The woman is very grateful to the strangers who donated and has been constantly asking about the whereabouts of the donors, but the hospital's stance on confidentiality left her empty-handed, so she had no choice but to be discharged.
"That child kept crying, saying she must find the donors and repay them! Miss Nozawa, is it really okay for you not to go and meet her?"
"No need. The success of the surgery is my greatest wish, and it is everyone's wish as well."
It was a long time later that I heard from the head nurse that my donation was a crucial one.
Originally, everyone was making charitable donations, but my money filled up the majority of the gap at once. It was only a hair's breadth away from success, and it would have been a great pity not to reach the full amount, so everyone put in extra effort to donate, chipping in bit by bit until it was fully gathered.
Hearing this news made me very happy, and I am full of admiration for everyone's spirit, and I also wish the sisters peace and health from the bottom of my heart.
As for the feelings between them, they will also emerge quietly and rapidly like vibrant spring flower seedlings, right? I thought to myself.
It's so good. I felt soft-hearted and comforted, with a gentle warmth in my heart.
"Nozawa, answer the voice call... hurry up and answer..." A message popped up on WeChat from a listless Li Shijia.
"What's wrong, beautiful?"
"Wuwu, little Nozawa, you finally answered the voice call! The thesis topics assigned by Yamashita are so hard to choose from, and it's due in a week. Please help me brainstorm; I still haven't chosen a topic. The ones I picked before were too general and all got rejected..."
I thought for a moment and said, "I still have a few suitable topics on hand. You can choose from them, and if you find one you're interested in, start looking for materials quickly, lest someone else beats you to it."
"That's exactly what I was waiting for. Love you, mwah!"
After hanging up the call, I gathered the materials left over from my data analysis, roughly organized them as references for thesis topics, and sent them to that scatterbrain Li Shijia.
There was also an email from Hoshino, who was selected for the internship at The Jikei University School of Medicine along with me.
During the New Year, what could he want with me?
Ever since the three of us were selected, I have had almost no interaction with these two Japanese guys. We were in a subtle competitive relationship, and our studies were full and intense, so everyone was busy with their own work and couldn't pay attention to anyone else. An email at this time was quite strange.
Opening the email, the rigorous and reserved nature of the Japanese was immediately apparent.
[Dear Nozawa Mizuki, hello! I am Hoshino Mamoru from the same class. I wonder if you still have an impression of me? I am very sorry for this abrupt intrusion, and I hope you can understand. Professor Yamashita once granted the interns at The Jikei University School of Medicine a list for the entrance exam. Due to a personal operating error, I lost the document. I wonder if you could forward your copy to me? If possible, I would be extremely grateful. From Hoshino.]
I have finally witnessed the elaborate etiquette of the Japanese; such a simple file forwarding could be wrapped in so many layers of formality. It can certainly be considered extremely subtle.
I knew which file he was talking about and started searching for it on my computer. It was the material that Yamashita had emphasized must be kept intact. Each person had one copy, and it contained the detailed files of the students. Once lost, at best it would affect one's entry into the file system, and at worst, one could lose their internship qualification.
Now he could only modify it based on my data, and he would have to modify it word-for-word so that it wouldn't affect the subsequent procedures.
[Hoshino-sama, I have received your email. Please wait a moment, I will send the source file to your email. Remember to keep it safe this time.]
The other party seemed to have been waiting, and replied quickly: [Many thanks for your help, classmate Nozawa. I am extremely grateful! I will wait here.]
After searching for a while, I successfully opened the folder and found that because I had added other materials before, the content inside the file had increased. The increase in personal content meant I couldn't send it to him as is.
But it doesn't matter; I had already copied the content to a USB drive at the very beginning, and it's in the drawer in my room.
It is 11 a.m. now, and Kusanagi should be awake, but I don't know if she is at home.
[Miss Kusanagi, I have something I would like to trouble you with. Are you at home now?] I sent the message, but this time she replied very slowly. A full ten minutes passed, and I didn't receive any message on my phone.
I pursed my lips and simply made a call directly. This person wouldn't still be sleeping, would she?
The phone rang, the international roaming music looping, before it was lazily answered on the other end: "...Hello?"
I heard the girl's lazy, slightly hoarse nasal tone, "It's me."
"Who is it... calling so early in the morning... Nozawa?..."
I cleared my throat a few times. As expected, she was sleeping. I would forgive her for calling me by my surname in her dazed, soft voice.
"Still sleeping?"
"..." The person on the other end seemed to take a while to recover before scrambling up in a flurry, with the sound of bedding being pushed aside, "Is it really you? Why are you calling suddenly?"
I only just remembered that this seemed to be the first time I had initiated a call to her.
"I shouldn't call you Miss Eggplant; I should call you a sleepyhead."
Whenever I talk to her, it always unknowingly veers into strange topics. Realizing the intimacy in these words, I quickly reminded myself to be careful and not say too much.
The person on the other end of the phone let out a lazy yawn, "Hmm... it's all because Miss Nozawa's bed is too soft and comfortable, that's why I slept until now."
This person's bed is much higher-end than mine, so that statement is truly nonsense. Could it be that she has been sleeping in my bed all week?
"If you like it, buy one exactly the same."
"I just like you, this one."
"New ones are more comfortable to sleep in than old ones."
"I just like the old ones." The girl stretched, moaning without any hesitation, "I just like the ones with some age on them."
I automatically ignored the teasing in her words, steadied my heartbeat, and continued: "...It's like this, could I trouble Miss Kusanagi to send a file for me? The USB drive is in the second drawer of the desk."
"You called for this?" The girl's nasal tone was heavy, filled with light reproach and coquettishness, "The second drawer, right?"
I heard the sound of her bare feet on the floor. Her weight was too light to make a heavy sound, as nimble as a rabbit.
"Yes, that's right. There is a black USB drive inside. Do you see it?"
"Let me look. There is paper, a pen, and a notebook here... a book, keys. How big is the USB drive?"
"About a knuckle long, not very big." I added, "It should be at the very back of the drawer; I don't usually use it."
From the other end came the rustling sound of searching. The girl rummaged for a while, "I don't see it. Are you sure it's in the second drawer?"
"Then, try looking in the third one."
"Miss Nozawa's drawer is like a man's." The girl said, while rummaging, using a frivolous tone: "It's all cigarettes, lighters, and things like that. It's just missing a condom."
"..." I resolved to learn from this pain and quit smoking.
"Ah, found it. Here is a USB drive missing its cap." The girl took it out and placed it on the edge of the table, making a crisp clinking sound.
"Yes, that's it. Inside, there is a folder named 'Internship Personal File Materials'. Just send that over."
"Okay, I'll go turn on the computer first... By the way, there is a round box in the drawer, what is it?"
"What box?" I wasn't sure which one she was talking about, assuming it was the pen case for storing black pen refills, "It should be the unused pen refills, kept specifically to save expenses."
"A red box."
I don't know why, but I felt Kusanagi's mood suddenly turn cold, and her voice became icy.
A red box, and inside the box there is... a necklace? Ah, that valuable necklace given by Mori Reiko. It seems it was placed in the third drawer, and I had forgotten to return it to her.
"Is it a vermilion velvet-covered round box?"
"Yes." It wasn't an illusion; the girl's tone was truly like ice.
I was just about to explain, "Ah, that is a necklace. Someone entrusted Professor Mori Reiko to temporarily keep it with me... Hello? Hello? Miss Kusanagi?"
Before I could explain clearly, the other party had already hung up the phone.
I was stunned for a long while. Not long after, the file showed it had been sent to my phone. I checked it, and it was exactly the material I needed.
Why hang up for no reason? This person. I called back, it was hung up. I called again, it was hung up again. Why won't she answer the phone?
Before, there were a few squabbles because of Alex, but this necklace has no name or label; she couldn't possibly recognize it.
I had no choice but to reply with a thank-you message, but she wouldn't respond to me at all. A girl's mood is like the weather—sometimes up, sometimes down, sometimes sunny and bright, sometimes cloudy and overcast.
I had to go deal with the thesis and the materials Hoshino needed first. There were many things to do these days, and I didn't have time to coax the sulking child for now.
At noon, a fiery, scorching orange light poured in through the window, winding out spots of flickering light and shadow. It was a rare, beautiful day.
In stark contrast to the beautiful weather was the girl's mood.
The girl with black hair and long eyelashes clutched a Bvlgari necklace in her palm. Her slender, white hand set off the gorgeous silver light, making it look incredibly beautiful.
The owner of this necklace probably didn't know that on the back of the packaging box, a message was written: To dear Miss Nozawa, love, Alex.
Accepting a gift is equivalent to accepting love.
She stared at that line of text, her mind in a jumble. Always accustomed to luxury, she could recognize the special nature of this necklace at a glance.
They had already reached this point, so why hadn't she noticed anything at all? Did the warning not work?
After a while, her knuckles gripped it even harder, and the girl's eyes gradually turned red, as if she were experiencing a violent storm.
Then, she expressionlessly put the necklace back into the gift box and threw it into the trash can without hesitation. As if that wasn't enough to vent her anger, she fiercely threw other things away as well, only finding some relief when she returned to the woman's bed.
The girl buried her head in the pillow, wanting to scream from grievance.
She couldn't describe her feelings, only feeling a pain in her heart, all thanks to that woman. She wished she could return it all. In the end, she couldn't bear it; she bit the corner of the quilt, then slowly relaxed into an unconscious nibble, her eyes full of unwillingness.
She could not tolerate even a hint of possibility. Absolutely not. Not allowed. Not allowed!
No, a light suddenly flashed in the girl's black eyes. Her heart was beating violently, beating until she was almost suffocating, thinking about what she was going to do next.
When will she return?
If she returns...
The girl's heart trembled; she couldn't calm the anger and possessiveness within her. Her heart felt incredibly congested and uncomfortable, and she was desperate to vent.