The Gentle Breeze Reflects in My Eyes - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Back at home, Gu Yitong found a pair of slippers for Xia Lusheng. “They might be a bit big; just make do with them for now. I’ll buy you new ones in a couple of days.”

Xia Lusheng gave a low murmur of assent. After taking off her shoes, she used her toes to tentatively feel around on the floor. In her search, she accidentally kicked the slippers that Gu Yitong had just neatly placed in front of her, sending one askew.

Xia Lusheng bit her lip, remaining silent as her toes continued to search for the opening of the slippers. Once she felt them, she cautiously slid her foot in.

Seeing this, Gu Yitong wordlessly used the side of her own foot to brace the slipper so it wouldn’t slide away. Unaware of Gu Yitong’s small gesture, Xia Lusheng successfully put on the shoe and repeated the process with the other foot. Once both were on, she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Gu Yitong let out a sigh of relief as well.

Gu Yitong led Xia Lusheng further inside, patiently introducing the layout step by step. “The living room is right ahead. Um… the tables and chairs might be a bit uncomfortable; they’re all solid wood. The sofa isn’t very soft either. I… I practiced a bit of martial arts back in the day, so I tended to buy things that were ‘sturdy’.”

Xia Lusheng, who was feeling deeply uneasy about being in a new environment, froze for a moment upon hearing the word “sturdy.”

Gu Yitong racked her brain trying to remember Xia Lusheng’s lifestyle habits, but it was to no avail.

She truly didn’t know what Xia Lusheng liked or disliked, nor did she know her daily routines. Even though they had lived under the same roof for four years in her previous life, Gu Yitong remained a stranger to her.

In the original 2009, after Xia Lusheng arrived at the house, she had shut herself in her room. Though they lived together, they barely spoke.

Or rather, there was no communication at all. Xia Lusheng had been like a ghost—never making a sound, never causing trouble. There were several times when Gu Yitong was so busy with work that she forgot to come home to bring lunch, and Xia Lusheng would simply wait until evening, hungry and silent.

If her socks had holes or her clothes became too small, Xia Lusheng would never say a word; Gu Yitong had to discover it all on her own. Back then, Gu Yitong felt that Xia Lusheng didn’t want to be close to her, and not wanting to force herself where she wasn’t wanted, she gave the girl plenty of “space.”

Because of this, right up until the moment Xia Lusheng committed suicide, their relationship could hardly be called close. Gu Yitong had never noticed that anything was wrong.

Later… After the tragedy in the bathroom, Gu Yitong was shocked to see the array of old and new self-inflicted scars on Xia Lusheng’s body. Refusing to believe she had died intentionally, she had consulted forensic experts and psychologists.

The final conclusion was that Xia Lusheng suffered from depression—a terrifying illness she hadn’t been able to overcome.

She chose to set herself free, but in doing so, she pushed Gu Yitong into an abyss.

Gu Yitong began to have constant nightmares. She dreamed of Aunt Xia, sometimes sad, sometimes distorted with rage, accusing her of failing her promise to take care of her daughter. She dreamed of Xia Lusheng lying in the bathtub, drawing a blade across her wrist; Gu Yitong would scream for her to put the knife down, but Xia Lusheng would only offer a faint smile, and then Gu Yitong would watch helplessly as she…

Waking up night after night in a cold sweat, Gu Yitong condemned herself repeatedly. Why hadn’t she cared more? Why did she think that providing material comforts was the same as taking care of someone?

As she thought of the past, Gu Yitong’s eyes reddened. Her hand instinctively tightened around Xia Lusheng’s arm.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Gu Yitong’s apartment wasn’t small; it had three bedrooms and two living areas. The master bedroom had its own en-suite bathroom. After a moment’s thought, she led Xia Lusheng into the master suite.

“Lusheng, this is your room. It has its own bathroom inside. Come, let me help you get used to the layout. Um… the bathroom floor is a bit slippery, so be careful. Oh, and there’s a punching bag hanging in here. I’ll move it later, but until then, watch your head.”

Though she was blind, Xia Lusheng wasn’t ignorant. She knew that usually only the master bedroom had an attached bathroom. She bit her lip and lowered her head.

Back at the Mapo Tofu Hotel, her desperate grip on Gu Yitong had been purely instinctive. In that moment of isolation, terror, and collapse—when her mind was filled with the tactile memory of the dagger and the sticky blood, and while the police were badgering her—the sudden appearance of someone she knew had provided a feeling she couldn’t describe.

It was like a plank of wood floating toward a drowning person, or a tiny air hole opening for someone suffocating in a sealed room. Her instinct had forced her to cling to Gu Yitong.

When Xia Lusheng didn’t respond for a long time, Gu Yitong asked in a softened tone, “You don’t like it?”

Xia Lusheng shook her head.

Gu Yitong looked at her and frowned slightly. After a moment, she pulled her to the edge of the bed to sit down. “Lusheng, sit here and be a good girl. Wait for me for ten minutes.”

Less than ten minutes later, Gu Yitong returned with two eggs wrapped in a towel. Xia Lusheng heard the movement but didn’t know what she was doing.

“Close your eyes,” Gu Yitong said, standing in front of her.

Xia Lusheng hesitated for a moment before following the instruction. The next second, something bouncy and warm touched her eyes. Startled, she jerked backward, instinctively recoiling from the heat.

“Don’t move. It’s just eggs. Your eyes are swollen from crying; I’m using them to help bring the swelling down.” Gu Yitong continued to apply the egg with one hand while using the other to steady the back of Xia Lusheng’s head, preventing her from pulling away. She explained in a low voice.

Xia Lusheng’s body went stiff, and she rested her hands awkwardly on her lap.

Gu Yitong looked down at the young girl partially encircled in her arms and asked, “Is it too hot?”

Xia Lusheng instinctively shook her head. With that movement, the egg slipped from its position. The round, smooth, peeled egg tumbled from Gu Yitong’s hand and landed with a soft thud—falling perfectly into the hands Xia Lusheng had resting on her lap.

Both of them froze.

A second later, Gu Yitong let out a “pfft” of laughter. “It seems this egg really likes you.”

Hearing the laughter in Gu Yitong’s voice, Xia Lusheng squeezed the smooth egg in her hand. After a moment, she couldn’t help but let the corners of her mouth curl upward.

Seeing her smile, a heavy stone finally lifted from Gu Yitong’s heart. She had been worried all the way home that the incident at the hotel would leave the girl emotionally shattered for a long time, but things didn’t seem so bleak now.

“Good thing I prepared two. Since that one doesn’t want to stay in my hand, you hold onto it. I have another one.” Gu Yitong peeled the second egg and continued to massage the swelling around Xia Lusheng’s eyes.

Seeing her relax, Gu Yitong tested the waters. “Lusheng, let’s not go back to the Mapo Tofu Hotel to play the violin anymore, okay?”

Xia Lusheng instinctively opened her eyes. Even though she couldn’t see, she still lifted her head toward Gu Yitong.

Gu Yitong pulled the egg back and looked at the girl, saying softly, “I’m worried about you.”

Xia Lusheng’s long eyelashes fluttered. After a long silence, she finally spoke: “I… I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to drag anyone down.”