Chapter 14: Am I Really Sick?

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Qiu Yiyao clearly remembered that as soon as she woke up, she saw Qiu Shengming, and after the doctor’s examination confirmed there was no serious problem, she went home. But according to Qiu Shengming, that should have been her second awakening. So why did she have no recollection at all of the first time she woke up?

“It’s perfectly normal not to remember,” Qiu Shengming said in a seemingly professional tone. “The doctor said that when someone experiences severe trauma, their mind selectively blocks out certain memories.”

Though Qiu Shengming sounded knowledgeable, Qiu Yiyao still couldn’t understand. If the mind was truly blocking memories, why erase the most painful ones—like the death of her mother—instead of seemingly trivial memories?

Seeing Qiu Yiyao lower her head in silence, Qiu Shengming took several boxes of medicine from a plastic bag nearby. “These are prescribed by the doctor. But I was certain you were fine, so I never made you take them. Now it seems my selfishness may have harmed you.”

Qiu Yiyao took the medicine and saw unfamiliar drug names printed on the packaging, with indications for use on the back.

The more she looked, the heavier her heart felt, as if she were glimpsing her own future—a madwoman wandering the streets, chased by a group of unruly children pelting her with stones.

A chill ran through her heart. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, and the medicine box slipped from her grasp to the floor.

“Dad, will I go mad and not even recognize my own home someday?”

Her voice was tinged with sorrow and a hint of fear, piercing Qiu Shengming’s heart like a knife.

“Silly child, how could you not recognize your own home? With Dad here, don’t be afraid. I will definitely cure you.”

His simple yet heartfelt words immediately brought tears to Qiu Yiyao’s eyes.

She threw herself into Qiu Shengming’s arms, tears flowing like a broken dam.

After realizing she truly had an illness, Qiu Yiyao began watching all kinds of horror movies online, hoping to build up her courage.

Though only imagined—visible but intangible—they inflicted a grave psychological toll.

She took her medicine on time and in the prescribed doses, striving to maintain a good mood at all times.

She believed the man with the glasses who had committed suicide must have suffered the same fate—traumatized, driven to madness and hallucinations, unable to bear it any longer.

She was still young and wanted to care for Qiu Shengming in his old age. She could not just collapse now.

Seeing Qiu Yiyao’s sudden change in temperament, Bai Peiyu was not surprised. He still left early and returned late, rarely seen.

“Big sister Yiyao…”

Clutched in Cong Cong’s small hands were a few candies as he trotted happily toward Qiu Yiyao.

Outside his home, Li Zhen was chatting with Granny Wang, glancing toward Qiu Yiyao as she spoke.

Since the day she was discharged and met Granny Wang—who suddenly changed her demeanor—Qiu Yiyao had avoided passing by their front door.

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Now that she knew the problem was her own, Qiu Yiyao felt deeply guilty.

After accepting the candies from Cong Cong, she carried him to Li Zhen’s house.

Li Zhen was a clever woman. Seeing Qiu Yiyao approaching, she subtly signaled Granny Wang and calmly invited her, “Yiyao, I just baked some small cakes; come and try them.”

Qiu Yiyao politely declined, embarrassed: “No, Sister Zhen, I’m just out for a walk.”

Granny Wang, however, smiled warmly and gently grasped Qiu Yiyao’s arm as if nothing had happened. “You know, girl, since you came back, you haven’t stepped outside your front door. Us old neighbors hardly ever see you. Are you shy?”

Relieved that she hadn’t held a grudge about that day, Qiu Yiyao smiled and replied, “No, it’s just that before summer break, school assigned a lot of homework, and I’ve been busy finishing it.”

“Is that so? Have you finished it now?”

“Almost.”

“That’s good. When you have free time, come out more often. Sister Zhen lives with just her son; it’s quite lonely. You can visit her more. Or come to my place—I live alone, even lonelier.”

Granny Wang gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I suppose I’m the only elderly person left in Moon Carp Town with no children around, only chickens and ducks.”

Speaking of chickens and ducks, Qiu Yiyao had indeed heard Qiu Shengming mention them. Although Moon Carp Town was technically a town, in reality it wasn’t much bigger than a village. It had always been self-sufficient, so raising poultry in backyards was common. Such a thing would be impossible in a big city.

Having lived with her parents in another city until now, Qiu Yiyao had never experienced rural life and was quite curious about raising chickens and ducks.

She asked, “Granny Wang, can I come see the chicks and ducklings at your house?”

“Of course, why not? Come, I’ll take you.”

“I want to go too, I want to go too!”

Cong Cong clung to Qiu Yiyao’s leg, looking up at her expectantly.

“All right, let’s go together.”

Qiu Yiyao pinched Cong Cong’s cheek and held his small hand as they followed Granny Wang to the narrow alley between the two houses.

Though called an alley, it was a narrow dirt path barely over a meter wide, overgrown with weeds. Granny Wang had used this space, blocking both ends, to create a small chicken coop.

Even though Qiu Yiyao’s room faced the alley and she occasionally heard chickens clucking, she had never opened the window to look before.

Holding Cong Cong, who drooled at the sight of the plump hens, Granny Wang chuckled, “Little guy, are you drooling because Mom makes chicken for you every day? Later I’ll catch one here so Mom can cook it for you.”

At these words, Cong Cong clapped happily.

“Yiyao, you should catch one too. Look at yourself—you’re so thin.”

Qiu Yiyao quickly shook her head. “No, no, Granny Wang, it’s not easy for you to raise chickens. My dad and I rarely eat chicken anyway. Really, it’s not necessary.”

“Why be so polite with me? We’re old neighbors. Maybe someday we’ll need your help. If you keep refusing, it’ll feel distant.”

As she spoke, Granny Wang bent down to catch a chicken.

…

When Qiu Shengming saw Qiu Yiyao return with a plump hen struggling to escape, he was taken aback.

Learning it was a gift from Granny Wang, he wanted her to return it.

“You’re so thoughtless. Granny Wang’s not young, and it’s not easy for her to raise a few chickens. How can you just take one?”

Qiu Yiyao felt wronged. “That’s exactly what I told her, but she wouldn’t listen. She insisted I take it.”

Seeing this, Qiu Shengming said no more and took the chicken. “Yiyao, how do you want to cook this? Braised or white-cut chicken?”

“Either is fine.”

“All right, then white-cut it is. Little Bai loves that.”

Qiu Shengming carried the chicken into the kitchen. His casual remark stirred a hint of jealousy in Qiu Yiyao.

Her father, who depended on her alone, was now so attentive to someone else—almost more than to her.

“Hmph, always caring about others,” she grumbled discontentedly, then quickly comforted herself, “I mustn’t be jealous. Absolutely not. I’m sick now, so I won’t mind them.”

Just then, Qiu Shengming peeked his head out of the kitchen. “By the way, I also made some noodles. Later, I’ll cook your favorite shredded chicken noodle soup.”

Qiu Yiyao sighed helplessly. Lately, Qiu Shengming seemed obsessed with making flour-based foods—either buns, dumplings, or noodles—and his face and hair were always dusted with flour, yet he never washed it off.

She lowered her head, pulling out her phone from her pocket. The signal indicator suddenly flickered, jumping from one bar to two, then three…

“Is there signal now?”

Qiu Yiyao’s eyes widened in disbelief. Since the day she entered the tunnel, her phone had had no signal at all. Could it be… working again today?