Eventually, he was sent to the welfare ho in town, where he truly beca an orphan. At that ti, he was panicked and at a loss, not knowing whom he would et next or how he would adapt to the new environnt.
There, he t a girl who was five years older than him, many called her Qingbai. The region they were in was very poor, and the welfare ho rarely had any volunteers, so most of the ti, it was this girl nad Qingbai who took care of the other children.
Although she was only five years older than him, this girl seed to understand everyone, knew what they had been through, and knew how to comfort them. He still rembered how she, like an angel, held a small red flower in her hand, along with what she had said.
"Little brother, could you not wear such an expression? Actually, everything we’ve been through is predetermined, it’s what God has arranged for us. You see, each of us is unique in this world, we’re being tested by Him. As long as we keep hope in our hearts, the future will surely get better. Here, this is for you."
"Ah? A flower? What’s this for?"
"Because, a child who possesses a flower doesn’t need deities."
She pointed to a clump of red flowers by the road, the flower in her hand had been plucked from that spot. Her words confused Lin Jie, but they seed to have a magical power that soothed his soul, making his anxiety quietly subside. At that mont, Lin Jie felt a different kind of emotion towards her, feeling only a sense of closeness.
After the teacher who received him finished so paperwork, his new ho officially beca that unknown welfare institution. On the way, as he looked at the scenery ford by the surrounding buildings, he always felt there was sothing hidden that made him fearful, instinctively drawing closer to her.
As he spoke about his own experiences, Teacher Zhang who appeared to be in her twenties, compassionately reached out to touch his head. But he seed to have a deep guard against this female teacher. Whenever she tried to reach for his head, Lin Jie would instinctively dodge and run over to Qingbai’s side.
He didn’t know why he had such strange feelings that he couldn’t describe at the ti. He just felt that this world shouldn’t be the one he lived in, as though it were a dream, yet a very lucid one. In this dream, Lin Jie knew it wasn’t reality.
Teacher Zhang seed to know there was sothing unusual about the child. Afterward, she never reached out her hand again. He poured out his heart about everything he’d been through, occasionally prompting her sympathetic head shakes.
His confessions were mostly for Qingbai to hear. She was always patient, replying with comfort at just the right monts, her tone gentle, bit by bit nding his wounded heart. Yet every ti she spoke, he noticed Qingbai’s hands would fidget continuously with her words.
He found it interesting and imitated her, gesturing with his hands while he spoke, his clumsy and comical movents eliciting laughter from them both, and he laughed along.
Qingbai had also told him that a person’s misfortune would eventually disappear, usually at their unluckiest point because they don’t attract attention from misfortune. She said the bad luck that had clung to him was gone, and his life would only get better.
He firmly believed this and felt that he would no longer be tornted by fate.
Perhaps it was Qingbai’s presence that made him cease worrying about what might happen or whom he might encounter in the orphanage. Instead, there was a hint of anticipation in his heart. This gentle girl, five years his senior, fulfilled so of the fantasies he had as a young child.
Yet, his spirit was not healed; he had beco a monster incapable of living in darkness, with Qingbai turning into a lamp.
He didn’t know the image the other children had of him. Being superfluous to his parents, his grandmother’s suicide, these had beco deep roots buried in his heart. He didn’t dare look up at the sky, disliked sumr, and feared speaking with others. He only liked watching others play from a distance, expressionless as if he were a sculpture. Only when Qingbai was by his side would he beco like a normal person, with a lot to say.
As ti passed day by day, he witnessed many things: children in the orphanage fighting over a toy, couples coming to adopt and children primping themselves hoping for parents. He saw cold skies, cold rooftops, and chilly blue murals. The welfare ho etched in his mory was like a languid piece of instruntal music, with a piano lody, the air carrying a tinge of frost.
He saw Qingbai tending to other children with the sa tenderness, occasionally causing a sour feeling in his heart. He thought she should belong only to him, but dared not express this, afraid that it would make Qingbai see him as selfish.
There were also a small number of deaf and mute children, making communication difficult. This was why he understood why Qingbai’s hands moved through different gestures as she spoke. It was subconscious; it was also a language called sign language.
That day, as he saw Qingbai passing by, he felt a desire in his soul for light, and he quickly moved towards her. But she didn’t pay any attention to him, seemingly preoccupied, even when he fell in his haste and scratched his palm with a stone. She rely glanced back but didn’t co over.
Her figure dashed away and disappeared from his sight. That silhouette overlaid with the mories of his parents leaving him. Panic, unease, and a chilling feeling seed to bring him back to that hillside, blowing the coldest breeze of that sumr.
The fla on the wick wavered as though it might extinguish at any mont. He didn’t know what to do, as if standing in the midst of a vast plain surrounded by a white fog. He wanted to leave, but which way was the right way?
He returned to his usual corner. At that mont, he seed to understand why his grandmother had chosen suicide.
He sat there, not wanting to move an inch, watching ants carry tiny white chunks into and out of their narrow hole. Unconsciously, he fell asleep. Perhaps because of the hope in his heart, when he awoke, everything remained unchanged, but he didn’t know if it would succeed or not.
He didn’t know how much ti had passed when he woke up, it was already evening. It seed soone had shaken him awake. As he opened his eyes, he saw her face, with a look of reprimand. There was a small box marked with a red cross beside her, and his hand, scratched by the stone, was now wrapped in puffy white gauze.
"How could you be so careless? I thought you would have gone to the infirmary. Why didn’t you? You could get an infection!"
"Forget it, are you okay?"
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