Chapter 196: You Are My Medicine (21)
Xiao Ji climbed back into bed and lay down beside Chen Yinnian, wrapping his arms around him. He whispered into his ear, “Sleep a bit longer. Call me if you’re hungry.”
Chen Yinnian didn’t speak again. He closed his eyes and snuggled closer into Xiao Ji’s embrace.
He slept for a full ten hours. When he finally got up to use the washroom, he stood there leaning against the toilet tank for over ten minutes, dazed.
In the end, Xiao Ji had to come in and carry him out.
After emerging from the washroom, Xiao Ji used a warm towel to wipe his face and hands. He then ordered some takeout—light porridge and side dishes—to fill Chen Yinnian’s stomach.
Chen Yinnian didn’t say whether he was hungry or not, but when the food was placed before him, he started to eat. However, halfway through, he rushed back to the washroom and vomited everything he had just managed to swallow.
The stomach is an emotional organ. When the mood is poor, the appetite follows suit.
Chen Yinnian stood before the sink, brushing his teeth repeatedly. After accidentally knocking over the toothbrush mug, he began to cry. “I can’t do anything right, Brother,” he sobbed to Xiao Ji. “Should someone like me even be alive?”
Xiao Ji picked up the fallen toothbrush and mug, washed them, and placed them back on the shelf. He pulled Chen Yinnian into his arms. “Yesterday, I accidentally broke the bowl you bought. If you shouldn’t be alive, then neither should I.”
“Then… would you be willing to die with me?” Chen Yinnian asked.
Xiao Ji pinched his waist. “Why can’t you just live well with me? Chen Yinnian, if there’s no afterlife, we won’t get to meet again in the next one.”
Chen Yinnian fell silent.
Jinsha was too crowded, too noisy. Everywhere they went, besides their home, only served to make Chen Yinnian more irritable.
But a patient couldn’t stay cooped up at home forever. They had to find a way to clear his mind.
Xiao Ji did a lot of research. After discussing it with Chen Ni, he settled his work and took Chen Yinnian to an island nation in the Indian Ocean.
At first, Chen Yinnian was completely uninterested. He was drowsy on the plane, never once glancing out the window during the entire flight.
But humans are a curious species. They damage nature, yet they are constantly healed by it.
When they arrived and he saw the boundless sea, a mosaic of deep and light blues, Chen Yinnian felt a rare spark of desire to look at the scenery. The bustle of the city can rarely heal a chaotic mind.
Chen Yinnian had visited other islands in this region before, but always during a manic phase. This was the first time he had been taken out during such a profound period of despondency.
As the sunlight warmed his skin and the sea breeze brushed his face, Chen Yinnian took a deep breath. “Dying here wouldn’t be so bad,” he said to Xiao Ji.
Xiao Ji massaged the back of his neck. “Living here would be even better.”
He knelt down, removed Chen Yinnian’s shoes and socks, and let his bare feet touch the fine sand. He gave Chen Yinnian’s rear a playful pat. “Go run around. It’ll make you happy.”
Chen Yinnian truly lacked the energy, but the fine sand beneath his feet carried a warmth that seeped straight into his heart. He ran a few steps and stopped by the crystal-clear water, watching the waves wash over his ankles repeatedly.
Xiao Ji pulled a small camera from his bag and called out his name.
When Chen Yinnian turned around, Xiao Ji pressed the shutter.
That day, Chen Yinnian spent a rare amount of time outdoors. Once they returned to the hotel room, he was too exhausted to move.
Xiao Ji bathed him, tucked him into bed, and then showed him the photos he had taken on the camera.
As he looked at them, Chen Yinnian started to cry. Tears streamed down his face.
Before Xiao Ji could figure out what had touched his sensitive, fragile heart this time, Chen Yinnian slapped his arm twice.
“Xiao Ji! Is this really what I look like?! What’s the point of living?!”
He shoved the camera screen in front of Xiao Ji’s face. “This one! Do I even look five feet tall? I look like a little stump standing in the ocean!”
He scrolled to the next one. “And this! Can you even see my features in this blurry mess?”
He kept scrolling. “And this one… the angle is just perfect. My body completely blocks the helicopter behind me, but the propeller is right on top of my head. I can’t tell if that’s a bamboo dragonfly or if I’m doing a ‘flower hand’ dance!”
Xiao Ji began to laugh.
Chen Yinnian was still crying, but Xiao Ji burst into laughter at the sight of the photos.
After a moment, Chen Yinnian stopped crying, gave Xiao Ji a shove, and laughed through his tears.
Xiao Ji leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Give me some time, okay? If you cooperate a bit more, I’ll learn.”
Chen Yinnian couldn’t tell if Xiao Ji really was a terrible photographer or if he was doing it on purpose. But he knew Xiao Ji was trying to make him happy.
Chen Yinnian’s fatigue was partly psychological and partly physiological. He lacked energy and spent most of his time resting. But since arriving on the island, he was trying his best to cheer up.
He would still cry for no reason, blame himself, and give up on himself. He would have countless thoughts of “just ending it.”
But Xiao Ji would take him to see the baby sea turtles lining up to enter the sea. He would take him to feed small fish to the manta rays. He would take him to bask in the sun, ride a small electric scooter to catch the breeze, and build strange things out of sand.
And he would use that little camera to take all sorts of “ugly” photos of him.
Over time, Chen Yinnian began to take photos of Xiao Ji in return.
Initially, he was very annoyed. Xiao Ji was simply too handsome. No matter what tacky, bright-colored tank tops or shorts he picked for him, or how he tried to snap a candid shot, Xiao Ji’s face always looked flawless in the lens.
After Chen Yinnian had a good cry over it and slept for a day and a night, Xiao Ji taught him some “secrets” to photography—specifically, how to make someone look uglier.
From then on, this became the one thing that could truly pique Chen Yinnian’s interest during his emotional low.
Chen Yinnian was visibly improving. Three months later, he seemed to have returned to a normal state. Unlike the sudden “normalcy” from before, this time it was a gradual recovery, a slow transition from the depressive phase.
That night, as they sat on the balcony, Xiao Ji poured Chen Yinnian a glass of coconut wine, allowing him a small drink.
Chen Yinnian was very happy. Under the gentle moonlight, amidst the sound of the surging tide, he watched Xiao Ji quietly. He knew his love was extreme, like burning his very life. He was repeatedly scorching himself to find a balance.
“I thought about letting you go countless times, Xiao Ji,” Chen Yinnian said calmly.
Xiao Ji clinked his glass against his. “Why?”
“Because I couldn’t bear it. Life is too heavy. It’s so unfair to you—you live so freely, yet you have to shoulder my weight.”
Chen Yinnian took a sip of his wine. “No one can save me, but for the sake of loving you, I’ve been trying my best to save myself.”
“Brother… thank you. For never thinking of giving up on me.”
Translator’s Note: “Flower hand” (摇花手 – yáo huāshǒu) refers to a specific hand-spinning dance move that went viral on Chinese social media. Chen Yinnian’s self-deprecating humor is a sign he’s feeling a bit better! And the “bamboo dragonfly” (竹蜻蜓) is a reference to the flying gadget from Doraemon.
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