A Peach Wood Comb

Xie Jiayi knew he would come here. Instead of going to the hospital for answers, he was eager to see if anything had changed. The dark corridor, the old green security door with peeling paint revealing patches of rust, and the lion’s mouth door knocker, yellowish with streaks of black. Before, just three knocks would prompt Lai Hui’s voice: “Say Jiayi is a puppy, and I’ll open the door.” How did you know it was me? Jiayi never understood how Lai Hui always knew it was him when he knocked. The wooden door inside opened, revealing Lai Hui’s face, her smile triumphant: “You always knock three times, the first two knocks are close together, and the third comes five seconds later.” Later, he only knocked twice, and Lai Hui’s voice still came from inside: “Say Jiayi is a puppy, and I’ll open the door.” How did you know again? “Dummy, I heard your footsteps!” Then he took off his shoes on the stairs, knocked just once, and the voice was still the same: “Say Jiayi is a puppy, and I’ll open the door.” No footsteps this time! He said, unconvinced. “I saw you from the balcony!” She made a funny face and continued, “Jiayi, give up, I’ll always know it’s you knocking.” His fingers hooked onto the copper ring, knowing that no matter how many times he knocked, her voice wouldn’t come from inside, nor would anyone open the door. But he still knocked three times, the first two knocks close together, the third five seconds later. Just as he was about to turn and leave, the wooden door opened—”Who are you looking for?” A thin, wrinkled face appeared. Xie Jiayi pressed his hand against his wildly beating heart, calming the surge of joy followed by disappointment. He recognized the man, Lai Hui’s father, whom he had only seen twice: once when he and Lai Hui were out shopping, and she simply called out “Dad” before moving on, and another time when he visited Lai Hui’s home, only to find that Lai Hui had gone out, leaving only Aunt Yun and her father at home. “Excuse me, is this Lai Hui’s house?” he asked politely.