It was snowing when Zhishu He walked out of the hospital. Snowflakes were swirling in the air, and then fell on his long eyelashes, slowly melting into icy water. He blinked and finally realized that it was winter now.
The winter in Beijing was very cold, but his heart was much colder than it. Zhishu He shivered and wrapped himself in the scarf round his neck tight, with a crumpled paper in his hand-- it was a medical certificate.
He headed for the bus stop and waited for a bus to come. His fingers were stiff with cold, but he still tried to dial a number that he was so familiar with. As time went by, he sank into desperation as no one answered the phone. He kept dialing but it was in vain.
Zhishu He screwed the paper up and tossed it into the dustbin, feeling disappointed and frustrated.
Half an hour later, the bus finally came. He got on the bus and sat in a window seat. There were few people on the bus, quiet and serene, which relaxed his suppressed anxieties. He pressed his forehead onto the glass window and dialed the number again. This time someone answered, "Hello."
"It's snowing now. Winter is coming," Zhishu He said in a low, soft voice, tears quietly streaming down his cheeks. They had been together for fourteen years, but now something changed.
On the other end of the line, Wenxu Jiang, who stayed with his new lover, signaled the young man beside him to be quiet and asked impatiently, "What's up? I'm still working overtime in my office." Obviously, he was tired of Zhishu He's puzzling remarks.
"You haven't been home for a long time. Can you come back this evening?" Zhishu begged as he rubbed the silver ring around his right ring finger over and over again, tears welling up in his sad eyes, crossed his face and fell down onto the back of his hand.
Wenxu Jiang got a feeling in his bones that something had happened to Zhishu He, so he asked, "What's wrong?"
Zhishu He didn't answer his question; instead, he asked again, "Can you come back this evening? In our hometown, we always eat dumplings when it snows. I will make some dumplings for you."
"No, I'm busy now," Wenxu Jiang said decidedly as he grew weary of Zhishu He's monotonous personality. "Stay at home and don't do anything. I'll ask Assistant Song to send some dumplings to you, okay? Now I'm going to work again, bye." He hung up the phone without hesitation after saying that.
Zhishu He's heart ached for Jiang's refusal to return home. He slowly put his cell phone into his coat pocket just like a soulless walking dead.
Wenxu Jiang was the president of his company. Did he really have so much work to do that he even had no time to have dinner with Zhishu? Nonsense.
The real reason was that Jiang had a lover outside.
Zhishu He was so sensitive and intelligent that he knew clearly that Wenxu Jiang had cuckolded him for almost four years. But he turned a blind eye to this fact, not because he didn't care about it at all but because he feared that they would break up completely if he put this matter on the table. He had loved this man for more than ten years, and he would rather tolerate his betrayals than leave him. This was the true love instead of a sudden impulse caused by growth hormones.
So in the past four years, Zhishu He had tried his best to ignore the lady perfume on him, the lipsticks on his collar and his lame excuses.
They used to love each other so much and had experienced so many difficulties together. Why did they become estranged from each other now?
The bus finally reached his destination, Zhishu He got out of it with red eyes and a pale face. He masked his sadness with a gentle expression, as if nothing had happened to him.
He went straight home without buying any food, because he lost his appetite when he recalled Wenxu Jiang's cruelty. Maybe they wouldn't have a chance to eat dumplings together in the first snowy night next year. The Grim Reaper was after him but his spouse pushed him away and refused to accompany him in the rest of his life.
Song, who was Wenxu Jiang's assistant, came very quickly with a lunch box in his hands. Song in business suit seemed to just knock off. He rang the doorbell, waiting for Zhishu He to open the door. Soon he was greeted by the listless man, "Hi, Song."
Song handed the lunch box to him and asked with concern and respect, "Mr. He, are you okay?"
Zhishu He nodded and replied with a sheepish expression on his face, "Sorry to have troubled you. Next time you don't need to run errands for Wenxu Jiang. Just stay at your post and deal with your own business."
Song smiled and said, "My duty is to please my boss. He pays me well and I do everything for him. This is a fair trade."
His words alleviated Zhishu He's guilt, and they had a short chat before Song finally left.
Zhishu He closed the door and sat at the table, gawking at the lunch box full of dumplings, helplessly and sorrowfully.
For the first 10 years of their cohabitation, every year they would stay together in the first snowy night. They sat at this table, on which laid dumpling wrappers and the savoury fillings, and made dumplings in a cheerful atmosphere. Wenxu Jiang once added many candies and coins in the dumplings and complained that Zhishu He always got the lucky dumplings but he didn't. So Zhishu He secretly picked out all the lucky dumplings and put them in Wenxu Jiang's bowl.
Zhishu He woke up from those memories and found his nose bleeding again. It happened so frequently these months that he had become accustomed to the sudden nosebleed. He wiped away the blood with paper napkins and thought with self-mockery, 'Why did I get the disease? Maybe it's because I used to give all my lucky dumplings to Wenxu Jiang. Now I'm not lucky at all.'
At last, he ate only four dumplings and went to bed. Four seasons, four dumplings. Peace all year round. That was enough for him. Zhishu He lay on the bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. A slight fever dragged him into the exhaustion. He needed a good sleep to drown his sorrows. Tomorrow was another day.
'Good night, my sweetheart, Wenxu Jiang.'