I look up at her, she looks down at me, each of us getting what we need. “Do you know why Ashin likes green tea? Do you know why the band is called SEA? Do you know what Ashin must do every December 25th?” “Celebrate Christmas,” I say. Her face turns green with anger at my response, but she quickly puts on her trademark smile, “Good, an honest answer, but you’re wrong. You’re just a passerby who accidentally fell into their jurisdiction. Do you know them? Do you know their past? The joys and sorrows they’ve experienced? When the journey ends, you’ll obediently return to your starting point. Their world, you can’t enter; their past, you missed; so in the future, you have no right.”
She says triumphantly, and I listen expressionlessly. Deep down, I feel like she’s voicing what I can’t even articulate to myself. On the surface, Monster and I seem like best buddies; with their protection, everything seems glorious. But in reality, I don’t understand them, and they don’t understand me. We cautiously maintain each other’s stories, safely interacting. We never speak of our pasts. Are such friends really friends? Or just playmates who happen to get along, soon to become strangers once the novelty wears off? Such a “friendship” is quite fragile, isn’t it? What really makes a friend? I stand under Sister Xuan’s challenging gaze, pondering the definition of a friend.
Xuan lowers her head, lifts my chin with her fingers, and brushes her sensuous lips against mine. I’m startled, no longer able to keep a straight face. I frown deeply, staring at her. The corner of her mouth curls up beautifully. “Take my kiss to Ashin and tell him I miss him.” She turns sharply, as if to showcase her back, like a work of art akin to a Greek statue. Sister Xuan, it seems, isn’t the easy woman I imagined. I touch my lower lip, recalling that kiss flavored with green tea…
Ashin sits on the balcony, painting with a focused expression that touches hearts. I walk over, seeing him sketch a gravel path, a French sycamore, and a Gothic castle. The more I watch, the more fascinated I become. Looking up at him, I say, “Ashin, it seems like little Wei likes you, what should we do?” He looks up at me too, his simple lip curve revealing a childlike apologetic cuteness like a cute little beast. “But it seems like Ashin doesn’t really like little Wei, what can we do?” “Is that so? Little Wei will be heartbroken; she doesn’t want to be heartbroken anymore.” “But there’s nothing I can do, Ashin just likes her.” “Who is she?” “She can be anyone, but not little Wei.” “Ashin…” I say pitifully, drawing out his name…
Gasping for breath, I suddenly sit up in bed, my chest tight, patting myself. A dream, an absurd dream. Seriously? Just a little dream, yet my heartbeat is so off the charts. I take deep breaths to calm myself. “It’s nothing; dreams are often the opposite of reality, just a little nightmare, nothing to fear!” I console myself. My mouth is dry, so I get out of bed to drink some water. The cool ice water soothes my lungs, waking me up. Woken up in the middle of the night by such a dream, even looking at my bed gives me the chills. I pick up my phone to check the time and see an unread message. It’s from that mysterious number again — “Aren’t you a bit too ungrateful tonight, huh?!” I drink the remaining 400ml of water in one gulp and reply — “Who are you really??” To my surprise, he responds in three seconds — “You still don’t know who I am? :(” Anger flares up, and I open the window, casually tossing my phone to the ground below, then stand there listening to the sound of it shattering. The sound of metal hitting the ground in the early hours is crisp and powerful. From the third floor, it’s not that high. Yes, that’s the way to do it. “That feels good.” I mutter to myself, climb back into bed, cover myself with the blanket, and think I might have a good dream now. This wretched day is finally over.
CHAPTER 10: Adding Another Circle of Fat to My Waist
I didn’t sleep well all night, dragging my panda eyes, biting into a slice of toast, right hand holding milk tea and homework, I rush downstairs. I’m late again. I might not have a sense of time, but I hate being late. As I burst out of the apartment door, I see Monster standing by the flower bed, looking up at the building, so I shout, “Monster!” and the bread falls accurately to its death on the cement ground.
