Jiang Chi turned his head and saw Ji Yuenian walking briskly toward him, holding a broom in one hand and a rag in the other.
“Old Chang’s hearing isn’t very good. He won’t hear you if you speak like that,” Ji Yuenian reminded him.
Hearing isn’t very good?
Jiang Chi seemed to have an epiphany and immediately began gesturing wildly with both hands.
Yet the old man remained motionless, staring blankly into the distance as if Jiang Chi didn’t exist at all.
Ji Yuenian watched Jiang Chi’s movements, utterly baffled.
“What are you doing, kid?”
Jiang Chi paused and turned to Ji Yuenian. “Sign language?”
Ji Yuenian sighed, rubbing his forehead as faint veins of exasperation appeared.
“Old Chang’s hearing is bad, but he’s not deaf. More importantly, he doesn’t understand sign language.”
“Never mind, I’ll handle it.”
With that, Ji Yuenian set down the mop and rag for a moment, pulling a small golden bell from his pocket.
He gave it a few gentle shakes, and the crisp, melodious chime rang out, echoing softly in the air.
“Old Chang! Where are the bucket and mop?!”
The clear sound of the bell brought a faint glimmer of awareness back to the old man’s cloudy eyes.
Slowly, he lifted his head and looked at Ji Yuenian, his voice hoarse like dry wood.
“Ah, Yuenian, you’re here again.”
He raised his wrinkled, stiff arm and pointed sluggishly in a direction.
“The tools are over there.”
“Got it! You should get some more sun, Old Chang. Jiang Chi, let’s go!”
With that, Ji Yuenian quickly pulled Jiang Chi along to fetch the tools.
After grabbing the bucket and mop, the two headed to the first room that needed cleaning-Room 403.
As soon as the door opened, a musty, decaying scent mixed with the aura of impending death assaulted their senses.
Jiang Chi instinctively covered his nose and mouth, his brows furrowing tightly.
The room was relatively clean and tidy, with a boxy TV, a neatly made bed, and pairs of slippers for both winter and summer.
Yet none of this could mask the overwhelming sense of decline, like the midday sun about to sink into dusk.
Ji Yuenian, however, remained unfazed, humming a tune as he expertly rolled up his sleeves past his elbows, ready to get to work.
Just then, someone tugged at his sleeve from behind.
Ji Yuenian turned to see Jiang Chi handing him a mint candy, already popping one into his own mouth.
The minty freshness did indeed make the air more bearable.
Thanking him casually, Ji Yuenian felt even more energized.
As for Jiang Chi, he added another layer of protection—a mint-scented mask.
Taking a deep breath, he barely managed to suppress the discomfort in his chest.
Rooms 403, 404, and 405.
After about an hour or so, the two had cleared out the trash from all three rooms. What had initially seemed like clean spaces yielded a full, massive bucket of garbage—so heavy it took both of them to carry it.
Truly, as some philosopher once said: trash is like water in a sponge-if you squeeze hard enough, there’s always more.
They had thought their volunteer work for the elderly would conclude smoothly.
But just as they were hauling the garbage to the stinking dumpster, Jiang Chi suddenly—and without warning-vomited.
Yes, Jiang Chi puked. All over the ground.
Finally, Ji Yuenian let the pale-faced Jiang Chi rest to the side while he rolled up his sleeves and cleaned up the vomit with a broom and mop.
Bright sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, scattering in fragments across the nursing home’s long bench.
The young man sat quietly there, his head slightly lowered, his face somewhat pale.
His sapphire-like eyes were tightly shut, his eyelashes trembling faintly, as if silently enduring some kind of pain.
“You alright, kid?”
Suddenly, Ji Yuenian’s cheerful voice came from behind, followed by a bottle of mineral water being tossed into Jiang Chi’s lap.
Ji Yuenian plopped down casually beside Jiang Chi, crossing his legs leisurely before expertly twisting open the cap and taking a bold swig.
Jiang Chi picked up the water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a small sip, slightly easing the lingering sourness in his throat.
“How do you keep going?” he suddenly asked, lifting his head to gaze intently at Ji Yuenian, his tone thick with curiosity and confusion.
“Me?”
Ji Yuenian blinked in surprise.
“Yeah, how do you keep going?”
Jiang Chi gestured around them, pausing briefly as if organizing his thoughts.
“This place is smelly and dirty. Sure, it adds a few credits, but only a handful. I know you, Ji Yuenian—you’re not the type to waste effort. You could easily spend your free time on something more meaningful.”
“Want the truth?”
Ji Yuenian scratched his head.
“Of course.”
Jiang Chi nodded.
“I want to beat you once.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“You’ve already won.”
Jiang Chi took another sip of water.
Ji Yuenian was better at blending in with groups, better at making friends, and— most of all—had a healthy body.
While he was just a patient with severe mysophobia and an extreme hand fixation.
“No, I haven’t.”
Ji Yuenian clenched the bell in his hand.
“Since we were kids, your grades were always better than mine, and you were always better-looking. My mom kept comparing me to you, telling me to learn from you. That’s when I decided I wanted to beat you just once!”
“Back in our first year of high school, when the school voted for the most handsome guy, I spent half a semester going back and forth to this nursing home just to earn credits for my ‘kindness video.’ But in the end, I still couldn’t compete with your ‘casual snapshot.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
Jiang Chi shook his head, trying to explain that he hadn’t been competing with Ji Yuenian.
“Natural talent, right? I know.”
Ji Yuenian let out a cold laugh, cutting him off.
“Someone like you, born with everything, must look down on hard workers like me. Like that math final in eighth grade—only you and I in our class got full marks… Never mind, you’ve probably forgotten. How could our great school heartthrob Jiang Chi remember such a small thing?”
His tone was laced with bitterness.
“I remember.”
Jiang Chi replied calmly.
“A hundred was your limit, not mine. I scored a hundred because the test only went up to a hundred. You were different.”
His voice was utterly composed, as if discussing something trivial.
Yet, to Ji Yuenian’s ears, those words were piercing—as if they had traveled through time and space, crossing all distances to return to that distant afternoon.
Once, a boy spent an entire summer vacation attending extra classes, doing exercises, and working tirelessly.
When he proudly presented his perfect score to the boy with sapphire-blue eyes, hoping to prove he was no less capable, all he received in return were these words.