Chapter 10
YAN JUN TRIED to stop him. “I can just borrow Chen Hong’s e-bike.”
“It’s too cold outside, and her fever will get worse in the wind.”
Chang Jinxing headed upstairs. Yan Jun tried to yank him back, but he was already at Zhang Yuwen’s door. “Yuwen! Wake up! Yuwen!”
Chang Jinxing knocked on the door, but there was no response. He tried the doorknob—it wasn’t locked. Counting on his presumed familiarity with Zhang Yuwen, he went in and shook him awake.
Zhang Yuwen was hugging a pillow, deep in sleep. Startled awake, he sprang up, thinking there was a fire. He didn’t blame them when he found out what happened, though, and merely touched Xiao-Qi’s forehead.
“Any convulsions?”
“No,” Yan Jun replied.
Zhang Yuwen went to get his car keys, and Chang Jinxing called out a reminder to him. “Yuwen, put more clothes on.”
“Yup, don’t worry,” Zhang Yuwen said. He headed to the garage to start the car and drive it out. “Which hospital?”
“The nearest.” Yan Jun showed him the navigation steps.
“I know how to get there.” It was the hospital Zhang Yuwen’s grandmother had worked at; he was familiar with the route.
The two of them fell silent. Yan Jun didn’t thank Zhang Yuwen, and Zhang Yuwen didn’t probe any further.
Yan Jun watched the night scene outside the window. The whole city was asleep, and the yellow streetlights looked lonely. Cold rain was still coming down outside, and the wipers kept in constant motion, creating a halo of lights on the windshield that made Yan Jun feel like he was in a dream.
“If you aren’t going to the children’s hospital, you have to go to the A&E department here,” Zhang Yuwen said when they arrived at the hospital’s back entrance. “You take her to register first. I’ll park the car.”
“Okay.” Yan Jun quickly got out.
“Just go through this corridor and you’ll see the A&E,” Zhang Yuwen added.
Zhang Yuwen parked the car and hurried over. It was flu season, and there were lots of patients at the hospital’s accident and emergency department. Some were lying down, receiving intravenous drips, while others were coughing. Hearing Xiao-Qi crying from one of the emergency rooms, Zhang Yuwen knocked and entered. A doctor he didn’t know was listening to her heartbeat.
Arriving at the hospital had alleviated Yan Jun’s anxiety, as if he received an “immunity to death” buff the moment he set foot inside.
“A viral cold,” the doctor said. “If you’re worried, we can do a blood test.”
Zhang Yuwen went to pay the fees while Yan Jun took Xiao-Qi to get her blood drawn. Xiao-Qi cried and, flustered, the two of them comforted her. Once that was done, they waited at the entrance for the test results.
Zhang Yuwen stopped an exhausted doctor who was passing by.
“Can you give her something to bring her fever down?”
“If she’s still the same after taking medication, giving her more isn’t going to help. Besides, we can’t increase the dosage any further.” The doctor touched Xiao-Qi’s little hands, his heart aching for her. “Since she already has a fever relief patch on, we’ll just wait for her fever to subside.”
They sat in front of the emergency room together, awaiting the test results. Yan Jun, exhausted, looked down at Xiao-Qi in his arms. She was drifting in and out of sleep, the fever making her uncomfortable and restless.
Zhang Yuwen kept wanting to ask Yan Jun why he wasn’t notifying her parents, given how ill she was. Then he realized that Yan Jun had probably lied to him. Maybe there were no brother and sister-in-law, and Xiao-Qi was, in fact, his own daughter.
Zhang Yuwen was often deceived by sweet talk, but he rarely flew into a rage. Yes, some people were habitual liars, but he knew that the majority had their own difficulties, reasons to withhold the truth. Case in point: Yan Jun.
The test report came back: flu. The doctor sent them home with the advice to monitor Xiao-Qi and wait for the fever to subside naturally, although they would have to return if she worsened. If her fever was still over 100 degrees Fahrenheit tomorrow, they could give her an antipyretic injection, which was essentially a faster-acting version of the same medication Yan Jun gave her.
Zhang Yuwen knew the hospital’s modus operandi. As long as the patient wasn’t in critical condition (read: dying right now), the doctors remained calm. After all, there was always someone sicker than you, and infants’ illnesses were harder to treat. Experienced doctors generally believed that these newcomers to the world could rely on their own immune systems to overcome a virus.
“Do you want to go to the children’s hospital?” Zhang Yuwen asked.
“Nah,” Yan Jun said. “Let’s go home first. It’s easy for infections to spread, given how many sick people there are here. Besides, going there won’t immediately bring her fever down.”
“Looks like it’s gone down a little.” Zhang Yuwen touched Xiao-Qi’s neck. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the cold weather outside or the fever relief patch, but she wasn’t as hot to the touch.
Once they were home, Zhang Yuwen headed upstairs to go back to sleep. “Just come in and wake me if something crops up. My door’s open.”
“Thanks,” Yan Jun said.
“You’re welcome.” Zhang Yuwen yawned, returned to his room without looking back, and collapsed onto his bed.
It was an agonizing night for Yan Jun. Xiao-Qi had never been so sick. From parenting courses, he knew, roughly, that fevers were common in babies, most of whom would have one around the age of one. He just hadn’t expected it would come out of the blue like that, catching him off guard.
He measured Xiao-Qi’s temperature with an electronic thermometer every half hour: 104°F, 104°F, 103°F, 103.5°F, 104°C, 102°F… It left him utterly exhausted. At 5:40 in the morning, he finally couldn’t hold on anymore and fell asleep leaning against the headboard, Xiao-Qi in his arms.
Dawn came. Yan Jun heard someone talking outside.
Zhang Yuwen, who had already gotten up, was knocking on the door. “Yan Jun? Has Xiao-Qi’s fever gone down?”
Blearily, Yan Jun got up and touched Xiao-Qi. She must have still felt uncomfortable, because she started crying.
“I think it’s time for her medicine,” Zhang Yuwen said. Having washed his hands, he touched her to gauge her temperature. “Doesn’t seem to be as hot.” The temperature on the thermostat read 102°F.
“I’ll give her the medicine one more time,” Yan Jun said. “If it still doesn’t work, we’ll go to the children’s hospital.”
“Come out for a while,” Zhang Yuwen told him. “Let the housekeeper clean your room first.”
Yan Jun’s room was a mess and smelled of Xiao-Qi’s vomit from the night before, so he carried Xiao-Qi to the living room. The two housekeepers were already there for work.
“Oh!” Liu Jingfang exclaimed, surprised. “Whose little precious is this? Are you sick?”
“Can you take a look at her?” Zhang Yuwen asked Liu Jingfang.
She took Xiao-Qi into her arms. Raising two sons and two grandchildren had honed and deepened her parenting skills, and she’d also gleaned a lot of nursing knowledge from the Zhangs. Every time her children and grandchildren fell ill, she’d consulted Zhang Yuwen’s grandparents. Over time, she came to learn even more than Zhang Yuwen did.
As soon as Liu Jingfang took Xiao-Qi into her arms, she said, “She’s got a fever. I’ll give her a tuina massage, and the fever will go away. Give me a moment. You boys go make her some milk so you can give her the medicine later.”
It was the first time Yan Jun had heard about the mysterious powers of tuina massage, so he was inevitably nervous, but Liu Jingfang moved with such practiced ease it left no room for doubt. First, she undressed Xiao-Qi down to her diaper and sent the other housekeeper to wash her clothes. Then she spread out a towel on the sofa and massaged Xiao-Qi’s feverish body. After a full-body massage, she wrapped the baby in the
towel and carried her face-down. Gently, she massaged the nape of her neck and the Fengfu acupoint at the back of her head.
Xiao-Qi’s loud cries gradually tapered off to soft sobs. Finally, they came to a stop.
Milk at the ready, Yan Jun waited off to the side. When he took her temperature again half an hour later, it had gone down to 100. With a sweet and doting smile, Liu Jingfang carried Xiao-Qi in her arms and fed her some milk, then burped her in one smooth motion.
Another reading put her temperature at slightly over 100. “You can give her the medicine now,” Liu Jingfang said. “I’ll give her another massage after her afternoon nap.”
Yan Jun gave her the medicine, and Xiao-Qi fell asleep. By that point, the cleaning was done too. Yan Jun returned Xiao-Qi to the crib and left the door ajar as he stepped out to thank Liu Jingfang.
“Auntie Liu can help you take care of Xiao-Qi. She’s very experienced,” Zhang Yuwen said. “Just go to the office if you can’t take the day off.”
Yan Jun finally had the time to look at his phone. His work group chat was full of snide remarks from his team leader, though they still approved his leave. Yan Jun thought about it, then decided, “I’ll rest for a while before I go to work.”
Zhang Yuwen kept yawning as he made two cups of coffee in the kitchen and handed one to Yan Jun. “I’m sorry,” Yan Jun said.
“It’s okay,” Zhang Yuwen replied breezily. He’d been observing Yan Jun, this young man who spoke little and was already worn down by life despite his tender age. He wondered what kinds of responsibilities Yan Jun had on his shoulders and whether he’d made “father” part of his identity. This was a complex and contradictory character.
Zhang Yuwen thought Yan Jun was handsome. If he were to meet him in the countryside, he would have thought of Yan Jun as a vibrant guy with healthy, tanned skin who loved sports and life and playing basketball.
He had chiseled features and a great physique, and his height of six feet and two inches made him a great fit for all sorts of clothes. With just a bit of hair styling, he could become a model.
But Yan Jun didn’t seem cognizant of his own appearance, or maybe he just didn’t care and chose instead to focus on work. His sense of responsibility gave him the air of a classic top, making him appear manly.
But even the most masculine of men had moments of vulnerability.
“I mean, I’m sorry I lied to you,” Yan Jun said tiredly.
Zhang Yuwen said nothing this time, just watched Yan Jun silently.
Whether as a matter of mutual trust or a desire to continue living at No. 7 Riverbay Road, Yan Jun had to come clean; that much was clear. Yan Jun hadn’t contacted Xiao-Qi’s parents once since last night. If Xiao-Qi had a mother, you’d expect her to storm the house in an anxious rush to see her daughter. Given that Xiao-Qi called him Papa, she was Yan Jun’s child, and there were only two possibilities: either he was divorced from or never married Xiao-Qi’s mother in the first place, or she was a child he had taken in.
Instead of jumping to conclusions, Zhang Yuwen waited for Yan Jun to explain.
“She really is my niece.” Yan Jun looked Zhang Yuwen in the eyes, and his own were full of pain. He was tired of pretending; he had to come clean.
Zhang Yuwen raised his brows, signaling for Yan Jun to continue.
“Her story is tragic. Her biological parents passed away.” Yan Jun averted his reddened eyes and held a clenched fist under his nose as he started choking up. Trembling, he took out his wallet and pulled out a photo to show Zhang Yuwen. “This is my brother and sister-in-law. It happened…four months ago. They died and left Xiao-Qi behind. My mother still doesn’t know about it…” “Take a break first. Catch your breath; don’t talk.” Zhang Yuwen looked at the photo of the couple and understood immediately. The man in the photo bore a striking resemblance to Yan Jun, and the woman held a baby in her arms. Zhang Yuwen stood up, walked to the other side of the table to stand beside Yan Jun, and leaned down to hug him.
Remaining in his seat, Yan Jun turned slightly to hug Zhang Yuwen back, leaning into his waist as he sobbed with grief. The pent-up emotions that had been bottled up all this time finally found release.
Just then, Chen Hong returned from his morning run. The scene startled him, but he tactfully said nothing and trod softly back to his room.
Some time later, Yan Jun regained his composure, and Zhang Yuwen let go of him.
Yan Jun was now able to tell his story calmly.
“My brother and sister-in-law ran a shop in Jiangnan. Back in July, they were on their way to make some purchases when they were involved in a multiple rear-end collision on the highway… My father passed away early, and my mother is old. She has cataracts, and her heart has always been weak. My sister-in-law had been on bad terms with her parents since she was a child. She ran away from home a long time ago and only got together with my brother later. We have no other relatives, and I don’t want to hand Xiao-Qi over to anyone else to raise. I don’t want her to end up in the system.”
Zhang Yuwen nodded. “So you’ve been caring for her all this time.”
Much more collected now, Yan Jun explained, “I send her to the childcare center in the day and pick her up in the evening.”
Yan Jun had come to Jiangdong City two years ago to seek refuge with his brother and sister-in-law. He also found a job here. The devastating news came like a bolt from the blue, and his life, which had been modest but full of familial warmth, was torn apart. He took care of the funeral affairs and canceled the lease for the apartment that his brother and sister-in-law rented. He didn’t want to be separated from Xiao-Qi; he was waiting outside the delivery room with his elder brother when she was born, and they had an emotional bond. He refused to hand her over to someone else to be abused or neglected.
He’d kept all of this hidden from his mother. Since her parents’ deaths, he and Xiao-Qi only had each other. Not wanting Xiao-Qi to feel like she didn’t have parents, he taught her to call him Papa. At least, this way, she would have a father.
“This is her birth certificate.” Yan Jun showed Zhang Yuwen a photo on his phone. Yan Yuqi’s biological father was listed as Yan Dai.
“The original’s in my room. If you—” “No, no, no need,” Zhang Yuwen cut in quickly. “I believe you.
Unreservedly.” They both fell silent. “Your mother doesn’t call your brother at all?”
“I used my brother’s phone to send her voice messages. We sound alike, so all I need to do is change my speech habits. She hasn’t suspected anything so far.”
Zhang Yuwen nodded and looked at Yan Jun’s room again. Xiao-Qi was sleeping soundly, likely tired out by the hectic night.
“You going to work now?” Zhang Yuwen asked. “We can take care of her for you.”
“Yeah, I’m going to the office,” Yan Jun said. “Thanks.”
He didn’t ask what would happen to Xiao-Qi next. If Zhang Yuwen chased him out, he had no choice but to accept it. After all, Zhang Yuwen had never agreed to a child in the house. Yan Jun had deceived Zhang Yuwen, and now the ball was in his court. If Zhang Yuwen said, “Sorry, but you can’t stay here anymore,” or even dropped a hint to that effect, Yan Jun would move out that very afternoon.
But after a long silence, what Zhang Yuwen said was, “So when are you going to pay your rent?”
Yan Jun was taken aback. Then it dawned on him: Zhang Yuwen had accepted him and Xiao-Qi. “N-now,” Yan Jun stammered. “Y-yes!
Right now!” He transferred the money to Zhang Yuwen from his phone, claiming the title of the first tenant to pay the full rent and deposit.
Zhang Yuwen checked his account. “Okay, got it.”
Yan Jun looked at him with gratitude and emotion, his lips trembling as he tried to convey his thanks. He couldn’t find the right words. His eyes reddened again.
Finding himself abruptly at a loss for how to handle the situation, Zhang Yuwen borrowed Yan Jun’s own technique. He said stiffly, “Go on.
I’ll see you later.” Having ruthlessly cut the conversation off and halted the exchange of feelings, he cleared away the two coffee mugs and hurried back into his room.