I heard footsteps again, this person was a bit anxious, his steps hurried and chaotic, almost stumbling. The footsteps grew clearer, approaching me, and eventually would move away. But these footsteps stopped beside me. I looked up to see Yida’s face. Sweat beaded on his forehead, worry etched on his brows, and I noticed for the first time how sexy his single eyelids were, and how handsome his face was, like a girl’s. His white T-shirt was still clean and loose, his casual beige trousers, his height of 1.82 meters, supporting his slender frame. I tried to look surprised but found my face stiff from the cold, even the slightest move of my brows would make me shiver. Actually, I wasn’t surprised; this was where I first met him, where my warm milk tea once sat.
He exhaled, was it an illusion? A trace of reluctance or sympathy or pity flashed across his face. I lowered my head, not knowing what to say. He sat beside me, probably also at a loss for words, and we sat in silence for 5 minutes. It was an exact 5 minutes, as I watched the minute hand complete 5 full circles.
“Is it because of someone on the other side of the world?” he suddenly asked, startling me. His voice sounded like a young child’s. I suddenly understood, his heart had a black hole as big as mine. “Are you sad?” I asked.
He laughed, a very childlike laugh, with shallow dimples appearing on his lean face. I had never seen dimples on such a thin face before. Boys with dimples should be mischievous, but he didn’t seem like that.
“What does that laugh mean?” I asked.
“It means laughter.”
“Then you must have someone you love deeply too, right?” He didn’t speak. His profile had the contours of an artist.
“Doesn’t she love you?” He gave a bitter smile.
“As long as she knows I love her, that’s enough.”
“Really?” He stood up, really seeming to hold up the sky. I had to look up at him at a 90-degree angle.
“Let’s go.” He extended his hand. At that moment, I felt we were like two children, kindred spirits, able to rely on each other. His long palm had calluses from years of playing the piano, those calluses were transparent. I extended my hand.
