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墨書 Inktalez
"Okay."
Feng Ning rested her chin on one hand, unconsciously doodling on a piece of scrap paper. By the time she refocused her attention, a rough sketch had emerged.
A drunken peacock.
After a moment, Feng Ning quietly added the details.
She wrote a line in English below it.
—apologize to my little prince
For some reason, tears suddenly fell. They landed on the paper and quickly spread.
The last memory of her senior year was frozen in that moment, trapped in that drop of tear.
*
Shuang Yao was the first to know that Feng Ning was sick.
—While helping Feng Ning clean up, she discovered half a box of Fluoxetine left in the drawer.
On the way to the hospital, Shuang Yao held her hand firmly and said, "Feng Ning, you can't possibly be unlucky for your whole life. It won't get worse than this. Just hang in there; everything will be fine. Your good luck is saved for the second half of your life."
Things indeed started to improve.
East Street underwent its second cleanup, and many people were thrown into prison. Meng Hanmo got out early, rented several shops, and opened a barbecue restaurant along with an auto repair shop.
Feng Ning performed decently on her college entrance exams. When the results came out, Teacher Tie chose the hottest major at Beijing Foreign Studies University for her. In her sophomore year, Zhao Huiyun helped Feng Ning make a small investment; she finally cleared her debts and no longer had to work day and night to earn money.
After starting university, Feng Ning changed her WeChat account. Zhao Binlin was also attending university in the capital; their schools were close, so he would occasionally come by to have a meal with her.
However, neither of them mentioned Jiang Wen.
One late night in her junior year, just before falling asleep, Feng Ning received a call from an unknown number.
"Hello," she said.
There was no sound on the other end.
Did I dial the wrong number?
Feng Ning, unprepared, glanced at the number again. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
Still, there was silence.
Her roommate was downstairs playing a game and turned to look at her. "What's up? Who's calling?"
Feng Ning shook her head and whispered, "I don't know."
The silence lingered, but Feng Ning did not hang up. Her breathing felt stifled.
She wasn't sure how long it had been—maybe two minutes, or perhaps ten—when the other end finally hung up.
Not a single word had been spoken throughout the call. She lay on her bed, staring intently at the pattern of the bed curtain.
After a while, Feng Ning got out of bed, put on her shoes, and went downstairs to a nearby supermarket to buy a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
She walked to an empty artificial lake and chose an unoccupied bench to sit down.
It had been a long time since she quit smoking. As the nicotine entered her lungs through her trachea, she felt a brief dizziness in her head.
It was dark here, with distant lights flickering in the background. Feng Ning sat in the darkness, smoking one cigarette after another until only a few remained in the pack.
She raised her phone to her eyes, opened WeChat, and found Zhao Binlin's Moments.
He hadn't set any privacy restrictions, so Feng Ning casually scrolled through his posts.
At the end of last month, he had posted a photo tagged in New Haven.
The phone screen emitted a faint glow.
She paused for a moment before tapping on the photo to enlarge it.
The sunlight in the picture was beautiful, shining on the grass. In front of an old Gothic-style clock tower, Jiang Wen was playfully hooked by Zhao Binlin around the neck. He had his hands shoved into his pockets, wearing a blue-and-white Yale T-shirt, his gaze lazily directed at the camera.
The lighter clicked, and a flickering flame emerged.
Feng Ning lit another cigarette.
The blue smoke spread out before her.
She opened her communication records, glanced at the unfamiliar number again, and then deleted it.
Feng Ning stood up, tossing the remaining cigarette pack and lighter into the trash can as she walked along the cobblestone path. In her haste to leave, she hadn’t applied any foundation.
Her arms, much thinner than before, bore scars that were jagged and terrifying.
This artificial lake was small; just a few steps would bring her back to where she started.
Yet no matter how she walked, she could never reach the point she desired.
Suddenly, Feng Ning thought that perhaps things weren’t so bad now.
Time had passed, and she was tired.
But what Jiang Wen remembered would always be her proud self, and that was enough.
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