Chapter 76: Letter Fragments

For two consecutive nights, Fu Rangyi folded paper butterflies, 29 in total. If his hand hadn’t been injured, he believed he could have done it faster and made more.

Three of them weren’t pretty enough. The paper had gotten wet, and the creases became fuzzy, not sharp enough. He discarded them, leaving 26.

The day before the exhibition opened, he quietly contacted Zhu Zhixi’s orange-scented curatorial assistant and explained his plan.

“He has truly put a tremendous amount of time and effort into this exhibition. So I want to give him a surprise.”

“A surprise?” the assistant asked. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Yes. I’ve made some small gifts and hope they can be given to him by the hands of the exhibition visitors. When they give them, I hope they can also tell Zhu Zhixi some of their thoughts after seeing the exhibition and praise him. He’s someone who really likes to be praised.”

The assistant readily agreed to his request. So at dawn, as the skyline began to pale, Fu Rangyi took all the butterflies he had made, left home without a sound, went to the museum, and then hurried back. Fortunately, Zhu Zhixi was still sound asleep, completely unaware. He also didn’t know that after Fu Rangyi returned, he sat by the bed, silently staring at him for a long time.

He caressed Zhu Zhixi’s cheek and, as if talking to himself, mumbled in a very soft voice, “You’re not a fragrance tester strip. You’re my sponge ball.”

A little ball that has soaked up sunlight, moisture, and all the pleasant scents of the world. Are you really going to become a butterfly?

But trees grow very, very slowly. In which lifetime would I have to wait for you to land on my branches? Can I take it back? Although the cypress tree you drew is very cute, I don’t want to be a tree anymore. I don’t want to wait in the same place for many, many years just to see you again.

“I’ve been waiting for you for fifteen minutes,” Zhu Zhixi said, feigning anger before he even got close, holding the paper butterflies he had made.

Fu Rangyi hung up the phone, stood before him, and took the last paper butterfly from his pocket, handing it over. “I really like this exhibition. It has a very human touch and is very creative. Setting aside all identities, purely from the perspective of a visitor, I must also say, Zhu Zhixi, you’ve done a really great job.”

Zhu Zhixi’s eyes immediately turned red. “Why are you being so formal…”

He took the last butterfly and shook it a few times. The light and shadows in the exhibition hall projected down, falling onto the wooden stick, flowing over the transparent fishing line, and finally leaving shadows in the creases. Everything was hazy and indistinct, like a dream, all held in the palm of his hand.

“Thank you.” He reached out his arms and embraced Fu Rangyi.

As the curator, Zhu Zhixi bustled through the crowds at the museum, busy answering visitors’ questions, fixing minor issues that arose, and soon began filming new vlog material, spinning in circles with busyness.

Fu Rangyi followed him step by step, watching his every move. Zhu Zhixi in his work mode was very different, as light as a feather, drifting with the wind, his whole body seemingly radiating a faint light, the soft glow of silverware. He looked so happy, so blissful, full of vitality and confidence.

But Fu Rangyi felt a pain like silk being pulled. It was a strong premonition. The transparent fishing line was in jeopardy. The butterfly was about to fly away.

Despite this, every time Zhu Zhixi turned back, he forced himself to smile, so as not to worry him.

At noon, while waiting for Zhu Zhixi to take a break for lunch, Fu Rangyi received two phone calls. The first was from Liang Yi’en. He had originally intended to call Zhu Zhixi, but Zhu Zhixi’s phone was with him.

“Granny’s surgery was very successful. She’s in good condition, and all her vitals are stable. The doctor said as long as she gets through tonight smoothly, she’ll basically be out of danger. She might wake up tomorrow, or maybe the day after at the latest.”

Fu Rangyi listened in silence and just said, “Okay.”

The second call was from He Xueyao. He sounded excited, very different from usual, so as soon as he spoke, Fu Rangyi guessed everything he was about to say.

It was nothing more than: the test results are out, you are indeed his biological child, he wants to meet you.

As it turned out, he was more or less right.

Fu Rangyi felt not a single ripple in his heart, like a log waiting to be put into a closet. So he said numbly, “Can we postpone the meeting for a few days?”

“A few days?” He Xueyao clearly didn’t understand why he was procrastinating. “How many days exactly? So I can report back.”

How many days?

Fu Rangyi opened the countdown on his phone. He had quietly set this up himself after learning the countdown was fixed and getting the exact time from Zhu Zhixi. He would look at it occasionally, as if he too now had a countdown.

[2 days 19 hours 17 minutes 12 seconds]

No, this countdown had been silently planted from the moment he met Zhu Zhixi.

“At least three days,” Fu Rangyi said, then changed his mind. “No. A little longer. I just thought, I might have a lot to deal with in three days, and I won’t have the time or the mood for the appointment.”

The other end of the line was quiet for a few seconds, then finally said, “Alright, I’ll communicate that.”

Fu Rangyi said thank you, then added honestly, “It wasn’t to get treatment or find my family that I agreed to this test.”

“Because of Zhu Zhixi?” He Xueyao asked, his tone already certain.

“Yes. I just want to put his mind at ease. So, regarding the treatment, can you… call him back tonight and tell him the good news you just told me? And say that the other party has already agreed to donate gland fluid for my treatment and will consult the top experts. Recovery should basically be no problem.”

After hearing this, He Xueyao sighed inexplicably, then chuckled and said, “Okay.”

Although He Xueyao was mostly doing this for himself, he was indeed a man of his word. The call came through as they were getting off work, and Zhu Zhixi answered it on the way home. He was exceptionally happy, saying “thank you” many times into the phone like he had won the lottery. He grabbed his hand and shook it several times.

Fu Rangyi stared at his hand and heard him call out “Brother Xueyao,” but felt no jealousy. He should be smiling at this moment. He should be saying to Zhu Zhixi, “Yes, that’s great,” or “Don’t worry, I will definitely get the treatment.” But in the end, Fu Rangyi said nothing, only taking his hand, interlacing their fingers, and turning his head to look at the scenery outside the window.

The sky was gray. It felt like it was going to snow again.

This winter was so long.

Back home, Zhu Zhixi claimed he had something very important to do and shut himself in the room.

“Can’t I go in and keep you company?” Fu Rangyi asked.

Zhu Zhixi gave him a pleading look. “Just for a little while.”

“Alright.” Fu Rangyi agreed and helped him close the door.

He left the hallway and stood dazed in the living room. He suddenly realized how chaotic his life had become these past few days. The orderly life he once had was disrupted; he had even forgotten to take the clothes out of the washer-dryer.

So, while Zhu Zhixi was busy with his own things, Fu Rangyi took out the clothes with one hand. He discovered a terribly awful thing. A tissue had been left in the pocket of one of the items, and all the clothes were covered in white shreds.

He searched and, sure enough, the source was Zhu Zhixi’s trench coat.

This had happened more than once. Every time he gave strict orders, it was still ineffective. Zhu Zhixi couldn’t solve this kind of problem and always solved the problem of “him” by acting cute. Each time, he would also bite his neck as a lesson and remind himself to check every pocket of every piece of Zhu Zhixi’s clothing before doing laundry next time.

He had failed again.

This time, Fu Rangyi still sat on the sofa, and as usual, meticulously picked off the white fluff, then shook the clothes, sending fine fibers flying everywhere.

His thoughts drifted inexplicably. For no reason, he remembered a movie he had seen before and learned about a profession called a bereavement cleaner.

At the time, Fu Rangyi had thought his own work had similarities to it. He was a relics organizer for human civilization, excavating relics, studying relics, restoring relics. He restored stories that did not belong to him from the fragments left by death, searching for the origins of people, objects, and history, restoring lost civilizations.

He stared at the white shreds on his fingertips. He suddenly realized an extremely terrifying fact. These fluffy little specks could never be restored back into a tissue from Zhu Zhixi’s pocket. No matter how hard he tried, how carefully.

Fu Rangyi began to break down for no reason. He didn’t know why. Even running a search, he couldn’t find the unstable error node.

For the first time outside of a susceptible period, he felt this intense loss of control, constantly approaching, getting closer and closer, like a roaring train hurtling towards him, and he was the one standing in the middle of the tracks facing it.

When the ordered dinner arrived, Zhu Zhixi also came out. He ate with gusto and talked a lot.

“Curator Zhou said the popularity of this exhibition completely exceeded their expectations. The reservations for the second day are also basically full. And I heard people from the Culture and Tourism Bureau also came. This might be a signal, there might be funding, and then the museum might not have to close after all!”

Fu Rangyi smiled at him and said, “That would be great.”

“And also, Granny woke up! Thank goodness we persuaded her to have the surgery. It’s amazing that she could withstand a major surgery at her age.”

Fu Rangyi nodded. He noticed his hand was trembling slightly, so he lowered the hand holding the spoon and let it hang by his side.

“Is it inconvenient for you to eat?” Zhu Zhixi tilted his head to look at him. “I told you I’d feed you.”

Fu Rangyi smiled again. “I’m full.”

[2 days 16 hours 57 minutes 01 seconds]

Zhu Zhixi sat on the sofa, earnestly knitting a sweater for the penguin.

“Is this right?” He held the needles in both hands and brought them to Fu Rangyi. “Help me take a look. Why does it feel a bit off? It seems like these two rows of stitches are tangled.”

Fu Rangyi looked carefully and finally told him to unravel that row. To avoid further mistakes, he made a request: “You sit here, it’s more convenient for me to see.” The “here” he was referring to was in his lap.

“Oh.” Zhu Zhixi obediently sat down. “Am I not pressing on your hand?”

“No.” Fu Rangyi half-embraced him, guiding his hand as he looped the yarn, ensuring every stitch was correct.

“It feels like we’re playing a video game,” Zhu Zhixi said, tilting his face up to smile at him. “It would be even more like it if you held me with both hands, right?” After saying that, he nuzzled Fu Rangyi’s cheek with his nose.

“Concentrate,” Fu Rangyi said.

“I know, so strict…” Zhu Zhixi muttered a few words and lowered his head again. The back of his neck was very white, and the most recent bite mark had faded considerably. He had told him to concentrate, but Fu Rangyi himself was distracted. He lowered his head, his nose resting on the back of his neck.

He sniffed, then kissed it, but didn’t bite. He actually knew that it hurt Zhu Zhixi every time.

If there were no countdown, this would have been the most ordinary, most heartwarming of nights. They stayed up late, unraveling and re-knitting, and finally, they managed to complete the sweater. Zhu Zhixi filled out the application form, took an ID photo of the red sweater, uploaded it to the project website, and all that was left was to mail it out.

“I’m sleepy, Professor Fu. Let’s go to sleep.”

He had said so, but in the middle of the night, he quietly got out of bed, tiptoed to the desk, took out a pen and paper, and began to write and draw quietly. He thought Fu Rangyi was asleep, but Fu Rangyi had never fallen asleep at all.

That night, he silently listened to the rustling of writing, mixed with countless sniffles, and looked at the countdown on his phone countless times. Finally, as dawn approached, he turned his face and found Zhu Zhixi, too tired to hold on, had fallen asleep at the desk.

Fu Rangyi got out of bed very lightly. Although he really wanted to know what Zhu Zhixi was busy with, looking directly seemed like an invasion of his privacy. So in the end, he just took the rabbit fur blanket from the tent and draped it over Zhu Zhixi’s shoulders.

Zhu Zhixi, half-asleep, mumbled something. Fu Rangyi stood there for a while, listening, and found he was saying, “…frozen strawberries…”

His memory was instantly pulled back to their first susceptible period after getting married, to the rock-hard frozen strawberries he had eaten.

So he left the room, walked to the kitchen, and pulled open the refrigerator door. Fortunately, he found half a box of strawberries.

“It’s not good to eat so much cold food.”

He said that, but Fu Rangyi still washed the strawberries, dried them with a paper towel, put them in a container, and finally turned to open the freezer, placing the strawberries in the flash-freeze compartment.

Below the flash-freeze compartment was the snowman’s territory.

It had been a long time since he had looked at it. Fu Rangyi squatted down. He didn’t even know if Zhu Zhixi had discovered it.

Should I tell him today? The countdown will soon start with a 1.

He pulled out the transparent drawer, opened the cake box. The snowman was still alive and well, very safe.

Fu Rangyi took the snowman out and stared at its two blueberry eyes for a long time. Even the band-aid on the back of its neck was fine—that was where he had scraped it with a small knife to collect a sample of the “first snow” when he was making snowflake specimens. The snowman was injured for this, so it should have a band-aid.

As he was thinking, perhaps because the adhesive was losing its stickiness, the sticky note on the snowman’s body suddenly fell off, landing on the floor, back side up.

On it was a line of pink writing.

[Letter Fragment 2:
Please do not offer me celery and cilantro, I hate them >_<]

Fu Rangyi stared at it for a very long time. He put the snowman back in the box, pushed it back, closed the freezer door, and strode back to Zhu Zhixi’s room. He stood expressionlessly beside the still-sleeping Zhu Zhixi at the desk.

He took the pile of papers Zhu Zhixi had written, went back to his own room, into the bathroom, closed the door, and looked at them one by one.

They were letters Zhu Zhixi had written to everyone. His father, brother, Liang Yi’en, even Xiao Yu and Snowball’s owner. Each of their letters began with “To so-and-so,” and ended with “Goodbye” and a drawn smiley face.

They were long letters, page after page. Fu Rangyi couldn’t read them all clearly, only skimming some fragments.

To his father, he said:
[Dad, thank you for your invitation. I have come to this world and was spawned in the happiest way. I had a lot of fun playing this game. Now the game is over, and I’m going to help you by keeping Mom company. Don’t worry, I will definitely help you convey the words you haven’t been able to say in person for the past twenty-plus years, and I’ll definitely polish them for you. Remember to team up with me again in the next life. Your baby Xixi will always love you.]

To Zhu Zeran:

[Brother, can your location system track me to heaven? That way you’ll find that I’m living very happily, in a different place every day, frolicking around like a puppy. I’ve already submitted my application; in my next life, I want to be your older brother and discipline you even more strictly, hmph. By the way, remember to watch the video I recorded for you and Dad. I recorded it many times. Don’t cry, you look really ugly when you cry. I’m not deliberately picking a fight, it’s true, believe me. The person who can argue with you the most is gone. Don’t casually argue with people anymore, you’ll drive away the people who like you, you know?]

[Xiao En, my best, best friend, the softest-hearted Alpha in the world, our stray animal shelter is already four years old! I miss the days of intercepting dog-catching vans and catching kittens with you, but now I have to request a long leave of absence. I hope the director can approve it. Oh right, I left you a canned food fund. The password is your birthday.]

[Xiao Yu, don’t worry. When I get up there, I will plead with your leader for you. This matter isn’t your fault. You are a very, very good angel and did a lot for me. And I will argue my case forcefully, striving to abolish this damn countdown mechanism. I’m going up there to start a revolution, just you wait! I hope you can return to your post soon. If I get arrested, please save me orz]

Only the one for Fu Rangyi had no ending. Like the sticky note from the refrigerator, it was labeled [Letter Fragment 1] and had a drawing of a rabbit.

That’s settled. This is the first fragment:

Nian Nian, I’ve been searching for an answer these past few days: what is the world like after a person dies? I’ve searched a lot and finally found a theory. It says that people in heaven also need to work. They work to save up a kind of points. When they have enough points, they can get in line. Those with high points can become invisible souls and come down to see their living friends and family. Those with fewer points get in the line for sending dreams. They can meet the people they want to see in a dream, but after the dream ends, the other person will slowly forget.

Although I’m really a bit lazy, to see you, to see all of you, I will definitely work hard. Please wait for me patiently, sleep well. Maybe one day, it will be my turn in line. Waiting in line is very tiring. If you’re awake, I might waste a spot. I would be very sad.

Every night is a night we might meet.

Good night, Nian Nian.
See you in the next fragment.]