The Unattainable Moon

Receiving a definite affirmative, Ji Ye exhaled a silent sigh of relief. He then immersed himself fully, concentrating on the lecture at hand.

Observing his focused demeanor, a surge of quiet joy bloomed in He Chuanrong’s heart. He yearned to assist Ji Ye in any way he could, yet he harbored no expectations of reciprocation, nor did he ever dream of it.

For him, merely being able to stand by Ji Ye, offering his silent protection just as Ji Ye had once protected him in their youth, was abundant.

****

The rain had poured relentlessly for several days, finally relenting and clearing by Friday. Before evening self-study, Ji Ye proposed they venture to the night market for barbecue after class, seizing the opportunity of no morning lessons on Saturday. He wished to express his gratitude to He Chuanrong for his two recent acts of assistance.

After evening self-study, the four friends made their way to the bustling night market. They chose the stall with the longest queue, each selecting their favorite skewers before settling at the nearest available table.

Once everyone was seated, Zhang Qian went to ask the boss for two extra stools to hold their schoolbags.

“I’m so exhausted, I just want to go straight to university,” Zhang Qian sighed, his weariness palpable. With only Saturday afternoons and Sunday mornings free, homework invariably piled up like mountains.

His eyes, heavy with fatigue, glanced at Tian Jingwen beside him, then lifted to He Chuanrong across the table. “Hey, aren’t you two tired? You both look so full of energy.”

Ji Ye pulled out a tissue, placing it on the table before resting his elbows. His gaze lingered on He Chuanrong’s face for a few seconds, then shifted to Tian Jingwen. Of the four, only they still exuded such vibrant vitality.

“How could we not be tired? My greatest luxury would be to wake up naturally every day,” Tian Jingwen lamented. “Or better yet, just retire now. Working after university graduation will be even more exhausting.”

Zhang Qian chuckled at her words. “But I heard university is quite relaxing.”

Recalling his cousin’s leisurely life of only two classes a day, he continued, “Have you considered what majors you’ll choose?”

“Traditional Chinese Painting, I suppose,” Ji Ye mused for a moment before replying.

A flicker of distress crossed Tian Jingwen’s eyes. Her true interest lay in archaeology, but her parents would never approve. She forced a smile, feigning anticipation for their answers.

“Folklore,” He Chuanrong replied after a moment’s thought. Beyond that, he truly couldn’t find any other major that piqued his interest, nor did he have any family who could offer him guidance.

Perceiving a general lack of enthusiasm for the topic, Zhang Qian quickly steered the conversation elsewhere, asking Ji Ye when he would leave for intensive training.

“During the summer holiday of next semester.”

“When will you be back?”

“Around the start of the second semester of third year,” Ji Ye calculated. “I’ll come back then to join you all in the final sprint for the college entrance exam.”

“That means we won’t see you for quite a long time,” Tian Jingwen said, a touch of surprise in her voice.

“Won’t you be spending your birthday all alone?” Zhang Qian added, glancing regretfully at Tian Jingwen. “And you won’t be able to come celebrate the class monitor’s birthday either.”

The three of them had celebrated five birthdays together. The sudden absence of one felt jarring, and Zhang Qian hadn’t yet had time to adjust.

Upon hearing this, He Chuanrong’s gaze abruptly fixed on Ji Ye. He had once believed they would share two full years of high school, but now, even that seemed a luxury. Just like in childhood, he was destined to return to his solitary routine.

As this thought surfaced, a subtle, ineffable sorrow entered He Chuanrong’s eyes as he looked at Ji Ye. Fearing he might reveal too much, he lowered his long lashes, staring blankly at the residual oil stains on the tabletop.

****

The four friends finished their barbecue half-heartedly. Ji Ye rose early to pay, and then they all ambled home together. The weather had turned noticeably cooler, and few pedestrians remained on the streets. The streetlights stretched their shadows long and thin.

“See you tomorrow.”

Zhang Qian and Tian Jingwen bid farewell to Ji Ye and He Chuanrong at the intersection, then turned and entered their residential compound.

The compound’s facilities were old and worn, with only the moonlight and the dim, yellow glow from a few scattered windows illuminating their path.

“I’ll walk you up,” Zhang Qian offered, switching on his phone’s flashlight. After a moment’s consideration, he decided to speak his mind.

“My mom mentioned that you and your family are at odds again recently.”

Zhang Qian’s mother, Xie Wen, and Tian Jingwen’s mother, Wang Min, had been classmates and both ran businesses, giving them a fair understanding of each other’s family situations.

“Honestly, you could try talking to your aunt and uncle. This can’t go on forever. Whether it’s the regular class or the advanced class, as long as you study hard, you won’t fall behind.”

His mother had already tried to persuade Tian Jingwen’s mother, but to no avail. So, she tasked Zhang Qian with talking to Tian Jingwen, knowing that children of similar age in the same class often communicated better.

Tian Jingwen offered a bitter smile and shook her head. “It’s no use. They don’t even give me a chance to speak. Ever since I was little, if I didn’t follow their planned path, an argument was inevitable.”

“From primary school to junior high, I followed the rules, step by step along their predetermined route. Yet, the arguments never ceased. That’s when I realized I was merely a pretext for their quarrels. Their accusations of my rebellion were also a venting of their dissatisfaction—dissatisfaction with everything.”

Zhang Qian, halfway up the stairs, paused and looked at Tian Jingwen beside him. Moonlight streamed through the stairwell window, illuminating her face. Her eyes were bright, as if something was swirling within them.

They walked side by side, silence stretching between them.

A knot of discomfort tightened in Zhang Qian’s chest. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry.”

He had originally been sent to persuade Tian Jingwen to communicate more with her family, but he hadn’t realized how much she had suffered.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it,” Tian Jingwen said, a relieved smile gracing her lips.

At the entrance to Tian Jingwen’s home, as she fumbled for her keys, Zhang Qian spoke. “If you’re ever unhappy about anything, come talk to me. Don’t bottle it up. I told you, I’m your and Ji Ye’s big brother. I can’t intervene with your studies, but anything else I can help with, I won’t shy away from.”

“Understood, big brother,” Tian Jingwen replied with a smile, opening the door. “Want to come in for a bit? I can make you some tea.”

“Get inside quickly. Get some rest. Next time, perhaps.”

Zhang Qian responded. Only after the door closed did he turn and descend the stairs, heading towards another building.

“You finally decide to come back?”

Tian Jingwen placed her shoes on the rack. As she straightened up, her mother’s displeased voice drifted from the living room.

“Mom, Dad.”

She walked over to greet her parents, who were seated at opposite ends of the sofa, and explained, “Zhang Qian, Ji Ye, and I went to grab a bite to eat.”

“You’re already in your second year of high school, and your mind isn’t on your studies at all! The college entrance exam is imminent. How much time do you think you have to waste?” Tian Guangyao fumed, neatly stacking the graded junior high mock exam papers.

“How many times have I told you that the second year of high school is crucial? Yet you, not only chose liberal arts, but you also quietly entered the regular class. Do you even want to study anymore?” He slammed his red pen onto the coffee table, roaring, “Can the advanced class be compared to the regular class?”

“Furthermore, choosing science would have also benefited your future studies in finance. Why won’t you listen? You don’t even discuss your decisions with the family!”

“Dad, I have no interest in finance at all. Can’t I choose a major I actually like?” Tian Jingwen asked, her voice laced with helplessness, her face tight, tears glistening in her eyes as she once again argued. She knew that once she compromised, she would lose all future opportunities.

“Can ‘liking’ something put food on the table?” Wang Min rose from the sofa. “Your cousin Xiao Yu didn’t listen when filling out his university applications, and now he struggles to even support himself.”

Tian Jingwen didn’t know how to respond. She had seen her cousin’s social media, and he seemed to be living quite comfortably.

“And you! Who are you glaring at? Why don’t you smash your thermos onto the coffee table too?” Wang Min glared, her voice rising in volume.

“What did I do to provoke you? Since I came back, I haven’t said a word, haven’t eaten a bite, and I’ve been grading papers until half past eleven. How am I ‘glaring’?”

Tian Guangyao retorted, unwilling to back down, his voice a roar.

He toiled all day, only to return home to no warm meal. Yet, he dared not voice a single complaint. His daughter was disobedient, and his wife neglected the home. Whenever these thoughts arose, his heart swelled with an uncontainable fury.

“I’m at the shop all day. I don’t see either of you bringing me a warm meal. Don’t I always have to cook for myself? And then I come home to cook dinner too.”

The topic of cooking ignited Wang Min’s own pent-up anger.

“Didn’t I call you for dinner earlier? You were the one who said you’d eat later! Now you’re blaming me. If you’re so capable, cook it yourself! My daughter and I do all the housework. Have you ever washed a single piece of clothing or cooked a single dish?” Overwhelmed, she unleashed all the anger she had accumulated.

The two instantly erupted into a furious argument, dredging up every past grievance they held against each other.

Watching her parents bicker incessantly, Tian Jingwen, accustomed to the scene, picked up her schoolbag and walked into her room.

“If it weren’t to take care of you two, I wouldn’t stay here! I’ve worked tirelessly for this family, only to be met with endless accusations in return. Do you two even have a conscience?”

As she spoke, Wang Min began to cry, her grievances transforming into tears that streamed down her face.

“Am I not tired? Working from dawn till dusk for this family, do I deserve to not even get a warm meal?” Tian Guangyao unleashed all the frustrations he had endured for days. Though he knew it was inappropriate, he had nowhere else to vent his fury but home.

Inside, Tian Jingwen listened to her parents’ argument, the same old trivial matters regurgitated endlessly.

She abruptly pulled open the curtains, then sat at her desk, staring blankly at the moon in the night sky.

The moonlight was pure white, spilling onto her desk and pooling on the floor.

****

He Chuanrong’s steps crunched on the moonlit paving stones. He glanced sideways, watching Ji Ye, who was chattering away, occasionally letting out a soft laugh in response to Ji Ye’s expressions.

Ji Ye spoke the entire way, and He Chuanrong listened. Ji Ye recounted stories from his childhood, and He Chuanrong carefully scanned for any trace of himself within those memories.

But there was only Tian Jingwen, leading them to catch fish in the river, and Zhang Qian, bravely charging ahead to send their bullies scrambling. Regrettably, there was not a single detail concerning him.

After seeing Ji Ye home, He Chuanrong took a long, circuitous route before returning to his own. Along the way, he passed a house where the eucalyptus leaves in the yard glowed with a faint, ethereal white under the moonlight.

He always remembered the flower language of eucalyptus: a gift.

For his seven-year-old self, Ji Ye’s appearance in his life that year, when Ji Ye was eight, was nothing short of a divine gift, he mused. Being a gift from the heavens, it was sacred.

He Chuanrong looked up; the moon hung diagonally in the night sky. He thought to himself:

‘The moon is unattainable, and Ji Ye is no exception.’

The only thing he could do was to help his moon-like deity as much as possible during this fleeting period of high school.