Hot flashes

Zhou Heng's pupils suddenly contracted.

In that instant, his body was like a string stretched to its limit, his shoulder blades tensed, and the lines from his throat to his chest all tightened.

His fist clenched so tightly that his knuckles made a soft clicking sound. He raised his hand, and as he swung his fist, a hot force rising from his chest slammed into Song Yu's lip.

"Disgusting," Zhou Heng's voice squeezed out from behind his teeth.

Song Yu's expression also changed.

He straightened up, and the playful glint that had been floating in his eyes seemed to have been scraped away by something, revealing a colder, harder texture underneath.

"You don't actually think I'd be interested in you, do you?" Song Yu's voice returned to its usual slow, leisurely tone. "I wouldn't want someone like you even if you were given to me for free."

Zhou Heng looked at him, and after a moment he finally spoke: "Get out."

Song Yu glanced at him again, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment. He raised his hand to wipe away the bloodstains from the corner of his mouth, then turned around and walked out through the doorway, letting the light in the corridor flow back in.

His footsteps echoed down the corridor for a few steps, paused at the top of the stairs, and then continued down.

…………

Zhou Heng lay in the darkness for a long time. The cracks in the ceiling were faintly visible in the dim light, like an old wound that had scabbed over on the skin.

The nausea rising from the bottom of his stomach surged and receded like a tide, sticking thickly to the back of his tongue, impossible to swallow. He turned over, pulled the blanket up to his chin, and closed his eyes.

He didn't know when he fell asleep.

In his dream, he returned to the living room of that house. The crystal chandelier on the ceiling was lit, its light whiter and brighter than he remembered, illuminating every corner without a trace of shadow.

He stood next to the sofa in the corner of the living room. He was still a child then, wearing a dark blue shirt with sleeves that were too long and covered half of his hands. He was standing on tiptoe, his gaze fixed on the direction of the door.

The door was pushed open.

Song Yaru stood at the door, a smile rarely seen on Zhou Heng's face. She bent down and waved towards the door, her voice clear and enthusiastic, like a piano piece that had been played off-beat but still flowed smoothly: "Come in, come in, is it hot outside?"

Three people walked in through the door.

Song Yuanzhuo walked ahead. His face was different from now; he looked younger, and there weren't as many deep lines between his brows.

Chen Jingyi followed behind him, wearing a light-colored dress and with her hair permed.

Among them walked a boy, a head taller than Zhou Heng, wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and dark gray shorts, with short hair that revealed a smooth forehead and well-defined brow bones.

His eyebrows and eyes are very similar to now, with high and flat brow bones and his eye sockets forming a clean shadow under the living room light. However, his expression is completely different now—his mouth is curved, and his eyes are clear, with a childlike curiosity and brightness that has not been processed in any way.

Song Yaru walked over, squatted down, and put her arm around the boy's shoulder. She gently ruffled the short hair at the back of his head with her fingers, her voice filled with a doting affection that Zhou Heng had never heard before: "You've grown so much taller. The last time I saw you, you only reached my waist."

Zhou Heng stood beside the sofa, watching this scene unfold.

His gaze moved from Song Yaru's face to the boy's face, and then back to Song Yaru's hand.

Song Yaru's fingers slipped through the boy's hair, her movements gentle and natural. Zhou Heng's fingers curled slightly at his side, then relaxed.

The boy peeked out from under Song Yaru's hand, his gaze passing over Song Yaru's shoulder and landing on Zhou Heng.

He tilted his head slightly, his smile widening as if he had discovered a candy hidden in a corner.

He turned to look at Song Yaru: "Auntie, is this my little brother?"

Song Yaru's smile seemed to have been scraped away at that moment.

She straightened up, glanced at Zhou Heng, then looked away from his face before returning her gaze to the boy. Her voice returned to its soft, smiling tone: "It's him. Please come in and sit down; Auntie will get you a drink."

Then she looked up at Zhou Heng, her voice coming from the direction he was looking at, her tone several decibels lower: "Go upstairs."

Zhou Heng stood there without moving. He glanced at Song Yaru, then at the boy.

Zhou Heng lowered his head, turned around, and walked towards the stairs.

He walked very slowly, taking each step with extra care, afraid of making a sound.

As he reached the corner of the stairs, he heard voices coming from the living room below.

"Why did you agree to let him in?"

Zhou Heng stopped at the corner, like a plant nailed to the wall, its leaves drooping and its roots embedded in the cracks of the bricks, hiding itself in the shadows.

Song Yaru's voice came from below, somewhat muffled by the floor and distance, but every word clearly reached Zhou Heng's ears: "What can I do if I don't agree? I can't have children."

Then came Chen Jingyi's comforting voice, saying, "Don't take it too hard," and "Life goes on."