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The Decade Of Deep Love

1 . Medical Certificate

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.'

2. A Bowl of Wonton

Zhishu He had trouble sleeping. He got up early in the morning and was practiced in swallowing a handful of colorful pills with the cold boiled water left overnight. In the bathroom, he was standing in front of the mirror, in which the man was pale and lifeless, with dull eyes.

Zhishu He threw cold water onto his face, then pulled out the heavy down jacket at the bottom of the suitcase and wrapped himself in it.

When he was about to go out, his mobile phone rang. He was disappointed again. It was not the man he was waiting for, but the doctor who advised him to receive treatment as soon as possible. Zhishu He answered with his customary gentle smile, "Thank you. I'll think about it."

It was early, not even eight o'clock yet. The snow might last all night and nobody knew when it stopped. Zhishu He walked in the snow for half an hour to the wonton stall that he had been absent for a long time.

The vendor was going to wind up the day's business, but the moment when he saw Zhishu He, he greeted Zhishu with a smile, "Long time no see!"

Zhishu He sat at the table, smiling, "I've been lazy and inactive since I moved."

The vendor's wife came to add hot water in his cup, and cast a few eyes on Zhishu, feeling a little worried, "You must be too busy! Look at you-- how weak you are!"

Zhishu He kept smiling without a word. In fact, he was not busy. His health collapsed just for that there was too much weighing on his mind.

A bowl of wonton. Zhishu He lowered his head, carefully pressing the floating laver into the hot soup with a spoon. The steaming soup soaked his eyes. For more than a decade, the price here had never changed, but by only a bite, he could find that the wonton was smaller with fewer fillings.

So was the love between him and Wenxu Jiang.

Zhishu He had no appetite, but he managed to finish up all the wontons. He did not dare to look up, because he was afraid that the others would find his eyes wet. Zhishu He suddenly remembered the moment when he came to Beijing to make a living with Wenxu Jiang. They were very poor at that time. One day, they two bought a bowl of wontons, but both were reluctant to eat. Wenxu Jiang refused to move the spoon until Zhishu He divided the bowl of wontons into two portions at last. He still remembered clearly, that day, Wenxu Jiang fell all his tears into the bowl and he said, stressing every word, that for this whole life, he would never let Zhishu He down.

But the promise was something that while the speaker was casual, the hearer was attentive.

Zhishu He thought he could endure the torture brought by the illness, but he still vomited heavily in the public toilet.

How could he not be afraid? He was afraid of loneliness, of disappointment, and of walking in the long corridor of the hospital alone. Zhishu He sat opposite the doctor, looking down at the potted orchids of the doctor whose surname was Ai.

The doctor advised him to accept chemotherapy early, the earlier the better.

Zhishu He kept silent, while the doctor did not push. Zhishu He managed to control his emotions after a long silence, and he looked up with a slight smile, "I'm afraid of hardship... I cannot do it by myself."

"Give me some more medicine and I'll think about it," Zhishu He shook his head and smiled weakly. "Doctor Ai, I've had fewer nosebleeds lately, but my fever is getting worse. The other day when I was sleeping at home, I dreamt that I became a big stove in a trance, with my heart and lungs fried in the pan. I almost thought that I wouldn't get through."

Hearing his words, the doctor suddenly stopped prescribing the medicine. He saw plenty of sad stories of people with terminal illness, so he knew well about their complaint on the unfair life and reluctance to leave the world, but he had never seen such a man like Zhishu He, who was wrapped by loneliness all over.

"You are my patient, and I'll always be there for your treatment. It's no big deal. There's always hope in life, isn't there?" In fact, Doctor Ai was no older than 30. Most people focused their eyes on his experience and ability only because he had great achievements in medical field. Now he was comforting Zhishu He; the tone was so relaxing that at the moment he was just like a student who was consoling his schoolmate, "It's all right. You tough it out tonight and we'll go on hunting birds tomorrow."

Zhishu He smiled more sincerely, but he still said, "I'll think about it. Please give me some medicine."

When Zhishu He was about to leave, Ziyu Ai insisted on giving Zhishu a pot of orchid in the office, which was valuable but fragile, "Don't go off into wild flights of fancy when you are alone. Just find something to do, and it's not bad to grow a flower."

Zhishu He was in a daze and then declined, "Thank you, doctor, but I'm not very good at growing flowers... Besides, orchid is such a delicate flower."

"It's not difficult to grow flowers. I hope you decide soon so that I can arrange treatment for you. If you are well, you will take good care of my flower," the doctor gave a brief and slightly childish smile, and then waved his hand.

Zhishu He did not think so actually. Only those who love flowers could take good care of them, which was just like what he lacked was not casual words of comfort from the others.

But half a loaf was better than none.

So, he accepted the flower, asked for a plastic bag to wrap it and then put it in his coat.

Hospitals were short of wonder drugs prescribed by Ziyu Ai. Zhishu He took it easy, for there was still some medicine in his home. He went back without any medicine. He had been out for so long that his body was breaking down.

3. "Where You Are, Where My Heart Is"

A violent pain ripped through Zhishu He's whole body when he was climbing the stairs of the apartment, as if numerous thorns were growing in his bone and waves of pain penetrated every pore. Although Zhishu He had the very strong tolerance, he could not stand this pain so that he almost wanted to kill himself to get rid of it.

Zhishu He struggled to reach his house with the orchid in his arms. After he walked in the door, he immediately leant against the wall, feeling dizzy. He gasped for air and his body was awash with a cold sweat.

He had liked to collect various beautiful glass bottles for appreciation since he was still a student, but now all the bottles were used to hold his medicines. There were different pills in different bottles. Misfortune was hidden in beauty and no one could see it.

Zhishu He was too tired to heat up the water. He poured himself a cup of cold water and took the medicines. He huddled in bed and put his chin on the knees. The pain didn't relieve as if it had rooted deeply in his abdominal cavity. He was thin and his cheeks were hollow.

Wenxu Jiang hadn't been home for 19 days. This was the first time he stayed out for so long. Zhishu He missed him all the time. A few days ago, he went to hospital for the bone marrow puncture. When he was waiting in the corridor, he heard the sobs of other patients clearly. But he was very calm and just asked the nurse one question-"Can I stand up after doing this? I need to go home by myself." He was afraid that Wenxu Jiang would be worried if he came home and didn't see him.

Zhishu He got a splitting headache, with his fingers curling and brows knitted. At this point, he was just like a drowning man who was so desperate because he failed to catch the driftwood anyway. He couldn't sleep, so he got out of the bed and unlocked the desk drawer. There was a book lying in it.

He carefully took it out, went to the living room, and then sat down on the sofa. It was an old book of Zheng Jane's essays. He gently opened the book while a faint gentle smile appeared on his face.

The pages had yellowed with age. But on the first page, the sentence transcribed by Wenxu Jiang was still clear and firm. His handwriting was flowing and graceful--

"Where you are, where my heart is."

Fourteen years ago, a tall young boy gave Zhishu He this book, flushing up to the ears, and said in a stiff tone, "I have heard that you like Zheng Jane's essays, so I bought this book for you. I hope you will like it... and like me too!" Until now, Zhishu He still remembered Wenxu Jiang's shy face and loving eyes.

Everything changed now, including the boy. Zhishu He bit his lips and held the book tightly in his arms. Then he curled up on the sofa, staring at the door with vacant eyes. He didn't cry but his heart was like dead ashes.

In the evening, Wenxu Jiang finally went home.

Hearing the sound of the key turning, Zhishu He woke up immediately and sat up slowly.

The room was dark. Wenxu Jiang reached out to turn on the light and thought that Zhishu He must have slept in the bedroom. But Jiang didn't expect to see the man sitting on the sofa with a pale face, just like a ghost.

Wenxu Jiang was taken aback and snarled, "Oh, ****! You scared me! Why didn't you turn on the light?"

He couldn't help feeling a bit irritated when he looked at his spouse. These days much of his time was spent with his new lover, an art student whose name was Zui Shen. After receiving the call from Zhishu He last night, for some unknown reasons, Wenxu Jiang got a guilty conscience and lost his interest in his new lover. So he decided to come home and see if something really happened to Zhishu He.

"I just woke up, when you came in. I didn't have time to turn on the light. Have you finished all the work yet?" Zhishu He asked tenderly and put the book on the tea table.

Wenxu Jiang took off his overcoat and threw it on the sofa without casting a glance at that book. He raised his hand to loosen his tie and lied with a straight face, "No, I still have much work to do. But I miss you very much, so I come home to see you. You barely call me for days."

Wenxu Jiang let his eyes settle upon Zhishu He's face and slowly frowned. "You seem thinner than before. Have you taken good care of yourself? You look like a drug addict and make me sick," he said coldly before he went to the bathroom to take a shower.

Those merciless remarks cut Zhishu He to the quick and he felt as if a knife pierced through his heart. He knew clearly that Wenxu Jiang didn't cared about his health at all but felt disgusted at his haggard face and emaciated body. His new lover must be a beauty.

Zhishu He curled his lips into a sarcastic smile. He wanted to live a happy life, but fate played a trick on him. He suffered from the illness and was wasting away. Now Wenxu Jiang scolded him for his weary-looking. Did he need to apologize for getting ugly? How ridiculous! Even the vendor of the wonton stall had noticed his ill health, even the doctor who had been accustomed to life and death advised him not to give up his life, but this man, who had been with him for more than ten years, was completely unaware of his sickness.

Zhishu He knew Wenxu Jiang very well. He was such a cruel man that he would not show any tender and patience to someone whom he was not interested in. He used to love Zhishu He, but now he had a change of heart. All his love for Zhishu He had gone with wind. Now he was even unwilling to spare a glance for Zhishu.

Zhishu He could do nothing about it.

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