CWITAR Chapter 1

“Yu Laoshi, the weather is quite nice. How about having a meal together?”

That autumn was much colder than previous years.

In the sketch outlined by the window frame, the sky appeared as a vast expanse of white, while the branches and leaves appeared withered and falling. The electric kettle, after boiling, emitted a misty fog that enveloped the glass window, giving the scene a hazy and not quite vivid edge.

“Qi Juan, is your stomach feeling better?” Yu Yue Sheng walked over and placed a glass cup filled with hot water on the coffee table.

Steam swirled from the cup’s rim as he raised his hand to tousle Qi Juan’s soft hair.

The boy curled up on the sofa, slightly raised his head.

His face was pale, with dark eyebrows and eyes. The stray hair in front was almost poking into his eyes, and there was a small mole below the corner of his eye. The whole person exuded a sickly and lethargic aura.

Contrary to that, the boy managed to say, “Mmm, it doesn’t hurt as much.”

Qi Juan’s medical records still lay quietly in a certain cabinet. The prominent words “stomach cancer” on the records always pained Yu Yue Sheng, no matter how much time had passed—later on, he even dared not look at them.

“Take your medicine, and I’ll give you a massage.” Yu Yue Sheng followed Qi Juan’s words, as if consoling himself as well.

“Sure.” Qi Juan’s eyes curved as he obediently took the cup from his hand, sipping the bitter and astringent herbal medicine in small sips.

Yu Yue Sheng rubbed his hands together to warm them and then placed them on the upper left abdomen of Qi Juan, slowly massaging it, but couldn’t help but furrow his brow.

Why is this little guy still so cold? The air conditioner has been on for a while now.

The warm breeze from the air conditioner blew loudly, accompanied by a dry and raspy sound, like the rustling of withered and crushed leaves.

“Yu Yue Sheng, I love you so much.” Qi Juan said dreamily with his eyes curved, without any apparent relevance to the situation. Although the hands massaging his stomach were warm, the spasms still caused him intense pain.

Feeling the pain, he couldn’t help but curl his legs and nestle into Yu Yue Sheng’s embrace. Slowly and lazily, he wrapped his arms around Yu Yue Sheng’s waist, resembling a clingy little sloth.

“I… hmm…” Yu Yue Sheng held him tighter, lightly touching the shallow teardrop mole beneath Qi Juan’s eye as if skimming the surface of water.

However, there was a hint of awkwardness and stiffness in his tone.

“…”

Suddenly, Qi Juan chuckled lightly. His shoulder blades trembled, as if he had heard something funny. His eyes sparkled with tears from laughing.

This statement came too late.

In his understanding, Yu Yue Sheng was merely pitying him. He was also grateful that he could still hear, so even if everything was fake, what difference did it make?

During his high school years, Qi Juan was like a vibrant little wolf cub, exuding energy, but also a troublesome student that caused Yu Yue Sheng endless headaches.

After school, Qi Juan’s favorite thing to do was to hold a carton of yogurt and wait at the office door, like a little wolf dog waiting for a chance.

The afternoon sunlight spilled freely. He would lazily lean against the door frame, taking a loud sip from the drink, then licking the milky residue from his lips.

The corners of his eyes formed fine lines, and the shallow mole lifted slightly as he smiled playfully, his voice trailing off: ” Yu Laoshi, the weather is quite nice. How about having a meal together?”

In most cases, Yu Yue Sheng would tilt his body slightly and pass by quickly from his side. If he was in a better mood, he would coldly add, “I’m busy. Excuse me.”

As they parted ways, their shoulders lightly bumped, and the sunlight seemed to scatter and shatter in a state of chaos.

Indeed.

Smoking, drinking, and fighting were all things that Qi Juan excelled at. Was it even reasonable for him to bother his own homeroom teacher? Does that make any sense?

…

The pain pulled him back into the reality of the room.

Qi Juan pretended to be relaxed and said, “In the past, you always found me displeasing, only allowing me to call you ‘Laoshi.’ The closer I tried to get to you, the more you ignored me. You were like a cactus covered in thorns, quite annoying. But, I must admit, you look quite attractive when you’re angry, and that made me even more eager to tease you. It was amusing to provoke you and receive scoldings.”

Yu Yue Sheng couldn’t quite bring himself to smile, but his movements paused for a few seconds. At that moment, it felt like time had reversed many years.

“I miss the wonton noodle shop at the school gate so much.” Qi Juan’s eyes curved, and the slight upward arc of his teardrop mole was almost identical to the one in his memory. “It must have been in autumn or winter. When they uncovered the pot in the morning, the steam mixed with the fragrance of wonton would drill straight into your nose, and your whole body would feel warm. I really want to steal some from your bowl again… Unfortunately, my poor stomach can’t handle their food anymore.”

“When you’re feeling better, we’ll go there.” Yu Yue Sheng pursed his lips and said.

“That would be great.” Qi Juan curled up in his embrace and rubbed against him gently. “Yu Yue Sheng, then I’ll have to pick a fight to keep up my spirit.”

Actually, his stomach had never settled down. Maybe his digestion had worsened again, and he always felt stuffy, bloated, and in pain, as if his stomach was always rebelling against him.

He didn’t know when it would get better. Would it even improve at all?

Qi Juan suddenly felt a bit uneasy and unsteady as he reached towards the edge of the sofa, signaling something. “Um, hand me… ”

He dry-heaved silently twice. Under the painful contractions in his stomach, acidic liquid surged up his throat, causing cold sweat to drench his back and his gaze to become unfocused.

Yu Yue Sheng quickly supported him and brought the trash bin closer, understanding his intention.

“Cough, cough…” Qi Juan suddenly leaned over Yu Yue Sheng’s knees and began vomiting into the trash bag.

From the bitter surge of stomach acid to the nauseating taste of sweet and bloody vomit, it was all extracted from his body, thread by thread. His throat felt like it had been rubbed with sandpaper, aching and hoarse, while the taste of rust filled the space between his lips and teeth.

Expressionless, he stared at the dark swirling blood in the plastic bag.

Watching as a few drops turned into a pool, extinguishing the hope in his heart, the physiological response caused concentric circles of faint red to appear at the corners of his eyes, accentuating his pale and sickly complexion.

Yu Yue Sheng held him in his arms, their cheeks pressed closely together, and anxiously said, “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Qi Juan’s breathing was exceptionally weak, and his lips were stained with traces of lingering blood. Unconsciously, he pressed his lips together before fading into a delicate and enchanting color, his entire being radiating a brilliance that accompanied the last moments.

He wrapped his arms around Yu Yue Sheng’s neck, the other hand pressing against his stomach, and lowered his head, trying to remain calm. “Yue Sheng, I’ve indulged in things I shouldn’t have these past few years, and I’ve done reckless things. This is my punishment. Actually, I’ve already come to terms with it, and I had a feeling that I might–”

“You won’t have any problems.” Yu Yue Sheng interrupted his scattered thoughts, using one hand to push open the door while holding the young man in his arms.

A gust of cold wind suddenly rushed in, piercing through the collar and sleeves, chilling the skin to the bone.

–

“Doctor! Please see what’s wrong with him.” Watching Qi Juan curl up into a ball on the hospital bed, Yu Yue Sheng’s rarely tense nerves and his cold voice were trembling slightly.

After listening to his brief explanation, the doctor quickly turned around and swiftly pushed the patient into the operating room, slamming the door shut.

As Yu Yue Sheng sat down on the waiting bench, his gaze remained fixed on the bright sign that read “In Surgery,” and his fingers subconsciously clenched the crumpled registration form.

After an unknown amount of time, the tightly closed glass door suddenly swung open.

“How is it?” Yu Yue Sheng quickly stood up.

“The patient’s gastric ulcer is being compressed by cancer cells, and the bleeding is severe,” the doctor hurriedly walked out, handing him a ballpoint pen and a critical condition notice, speaking sternly, “Given his current condition, the risks are high. We need the consent of a family member for the surgery!”

Yu Yue Sheng clenched his fingers tightly. He didn’t have time to read the detailed contents; he just knew that every second of delay would be a hindrance to Qi Juan.

Those were probably the ugliest words he had ever written in his life.

The sharp surgical knife pressed inch by inch into the thin abdomen, and blood gushed out with a “splatter.” Sterile gauze swiftly followed, wiping away the rolling crimson.

In Qi Juan’s mind, a cold and serene face appeared, but the edges of the image dissolved into a void of white, soft like cotton candy.

So tired… His wrist lost strength and drooped down.

“Not good, the patient has lost too much blood. The heart has stopped.”

“Transfusion, quickly!”

“Hemostatic forceps, defibrillator! Bring them here fast!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Bang!”

On the cold operating table lay a young man with closed eyes, barely in his twenties. His short black hair was neatly spread out.

He resembled a fish washed ashore by the waves, struggling for a moment before landing heavily on the plastic film.

“Three!”

“Two!”

…

“Drip—”

The medical equipment made a terrifying sound, and the dense numbers blinked and returned to zero. A straight line was drawn on the display screen.

When Qu Jian opened his eyes, he realized that everything around him was in black and white. The doctors continued to be busy as if they hadn’t seen him awake.

Were they stitching him up? It seemed like he didn’t feel anything.

Not bad, the anesthesia is working. However, the surgical light is too glaring. Qu Jian couldn’t help but close his eyes, but the intense light still pierced through his thin eyelids, leaving a hollow spot of light on his retina.

Then a white cloth dropped down.

“Declared dead,” he heard the doctor say.

The voice was muffled, as if coming from thousands of mountains and rivers, reverberating in the empty room. It was like the resounding tolling of a morning bell, shaking his mind.

“How is this possible? Am I not here?” Qu Jian exclaimed in disbelief.

When he sat up, he was horrified to find himself passing through the fabric as if it was not there. Looking down, he noticed a white halo enveloping his body, appearing out of nowhere.

What’s going on?

Am I dead?

Qu Jian clenched his shirt over his chest, feeling a lifeless stillness where his heart should be vibrant. He pounded on it forcefully, but it remained the same.

A dreadful calmness settled.

“Qu Jian, do you want to be reborn?” a voice suddenly appeared by his ear, exceptionally clear this time.

Qu Jian turned his head and saw a ghostly figure standing behind the doctor. The figure was dressed in black, with only a void of white light on its face.

“But there is one condition,” the person in black said, “You cannot tell anyone about this, or your soul will be scattered. Additionally, your condition is quite severe and irreversible.”

Qu Jian tilted his head. “Great. So I’m still a pitiful and sickly loser.”

The person in black continued, “If you perform acts of foresight, there will be corresponding punishments.”

Qu Jian nibbled on his fingernails and nonchalantly asked, “What kind of punishments?”

“This.” After a snap of his fingers–

“Hiss—”

Qu Jian suddenly felt like he had been stabbed in the stomach. He clutched his belly, drenched in cold sweat, and his fingers were almost poking into his spine. “Stop it. Ah, damn it.”

“Swearing is not a good habit,” the person chuckled and snapped his fingers again. “I’ll let you off the hook. But, are you still willing to be reborn?”

Qu Jian was almost wilted, gasping for breath. “Are you willing? This script is not right. Other people’s rebirths go smoothly, but why do I have to encounter pitfalls? What’s the catch?”

He had struggled through chemotherapy and cancer pain. Isn’t starting over supposed to avoid suffering?

The person in black stopped smiling and hesitated for a moment. “So, you have no attachments left?”

Qu Jian choked on his words.

How could he have no attachments? There were still many things he hadn’t done.

The person in black said, “Do you want to watch Yu Yue Sheng spend the rest of his life in self-blame? Believing that his judgment mistakes took you away?”

Qu Jian rubbed his still sore stomach. “It’s not his fault. If we do it again, it’s just a replay.”

“You can also try to change. Take care of your health, eat well, and take it one day at a time. Of course, the people and things around you will also undergo corresponding changes.”

“Brother, if I could do that, I wouldn’t have…” Qu Jian lowered his head and pulled at the conspicuous wound on his body, revealing the blurred flesh and blood inside, even though it didn’t hurt at all.

However, he suddenly couldn’t continue speaking and just let out a short laugh.

“Don’t think too much, just live well and there will be hope,” the person in black said.

Qu Jian felt that these words sounded familiar and couldn’t help but ask, “Who are you? An angel or a demon? Do we know each other? Why are you helping me and advising me to live well?”

He tilted his head, trying to see if the person was wearing a mask or something, but unfortunately, he didn’t find any flaws.

“You will know in the future.”

“…”

“The doctor will be out soon. Do you want to know how he will react?”

Yue Yuesheng’s fingers trembled as he lifted the white cloth covering “Qi Juan’s” face. After seeing clearly, he instinctively staggered back.

“I’m very sorry,” the doctor said.

Yue Yuesheng’s face paled, and he bit his lip without saying anything.

In fact, Qi Juan was very close to him. He watched as Yue Yuesheng’s eyes flickered dryly, but his gaze couldn’t focus on himself.

He couldn’t describe what he was feeling. For a moment, he didn’t know whether he should feel heartbroken for Yue Yuesheng or for himself.

The clock ticked away, and the hospital corridor was desolate and calm, with only the sound of a draft breeze fading away.

Yue Yuesheng slowly crouched down. “Liar,” he whispered, “Qi Juan, it must be very painful, isn’t it?”

There was a gurgling sound in his throat, and the pain and discomfort were suppressed, causing a congested and unbearable feeling in his chest. The lamentation was difficult to separate from. It seemed more like he was speaking to himself.

“What’s the pain for?” Qi Juan crouched beside Yue Yuesheng and smiled, “It’s just that this wound is too ugly, it looks like a patched-up pair of worn-out jeans. Isn’t it quite amusing–”

He couldn’t speak anymore.

Suddenly, he saw a glistening tear rolling down Yue Yuesheng’s fair cheek.

Qi Juan quickly reached out to wipe it away, but in the end, he could only helplessly watch as the tear passed through his palm and fell down.

He curled his fingertips and hesitated before reluctantly pulling his hand back.

As he looked at Yue Yuesheng again, he saw that he had buried his face in his arms, emitting a low, suppressed sob.

Will you cry for me too? I should be glad that you pity me, so why do I feel so… uneasy?

Qi Juan desperately wanted to soothe his trembling shoulders, but as he reached out and found nothing, he once again realized the cruel reality of their separation.

He quietly embraced him, even though he couldn’t really touch him. “I’m sorry, Yuesheng. It’s all my fault for being a short-lived fool. I don’t want to leave you behind.”

He desperately wanted to embrace the person, to merge into their bloodstream, to become a part of his own beating heart, never to be separated again.

“And now? Have you made your decision?” the figure in black asked him untimely.

“Let me hold him a little longer.”

“Alright.”

After a long while, the clock on the wall continued to tick.

Qi Juan stood up and looked at the figure in black. “I’ve made up my mind. I choose to be reborn.”

As soon as the words were spoken.

A wave of dizziness and ringing in the ears surged, overwhelming him. Qi Juan bent over and vomited into the sink. It was the sink, right? He didn’t vomit in the wrong place, did he?

The music blasting in his ears, Qi Juan swayed and unsteadily pushed aside the curtain, tumbling to the ground with a thud.

Damn it, when did he wake up?

Why was his stomach still hurting?

——————–

Author has something to say :

Qi Juan: Did I open it in the wrong way or something?

Ying¹“嘤” Ying is an onomatopoeic expression in Chinese that represents a whimpering or whining sound, often used to convey a sense of distress, complaint, or dissatisfaction. It can be similar to the sound “yelp” or “whimper” in English.(?；ω；｀)

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  “嘤” Ying is an onomatopoeic expression in Chinese that represents a whimpering or whining sound, often used to convey a sense of distress, complaint, or dissatisfaction. It can be similar to the sound “yelp” or “whimper” in English.