The next morning, when Lin Wan woke up, she found herself lying on the couch.
She didn't remember when she'd moved away from his shoulder.
His jacket was draped over her.
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. There was a faint smell of smoke in the living room, and the sound of water boiling came from the kitchen.
She walked over.
Lu Yu stood in front of the stove, boiling water in a pot. In the bowl beside him were two pieces of compressed rations, already broken into small chunks and soaking in hot water.
He heard her footsteps but didn't turn around.
"Drink some water first."
Lin Wan stood in the kitchen doorway, watching his back.
His left arm hung at his side, the gauze still the same one he'd changed yesterday. She noticed a little more gray had seeped through the edge of the gauze, but it was fainter than yesterday.
She wasn't sure whether that counted as good news or bad news.
"Last night..." she began, then stopped.
She wanted to ask: Was I leaning against your shoulder?
But asking that would be too strange.
Lu Yu carried the softened rations to the table and pushed one bowl toward her.
"Eat."
His tone was the same as always.
Nothing had changed.
Lin Wan let out a breath of relief. Maybe he really hadn't noticed. Maybe he'd been sleeping too deeply.
She sat down and spooned up some of the ration porridge. It was warm and soft, far better than chewing them dry.
"When did you get up?"
"Before dawn."
"You didn't get enough sleep again."
He didn't respond.
Lin Wan lowered her head and ate, saying nothing more.
After they finished, Lu Yu began sorting the supplies. He split the remaining canned food, salt, iodine antiseptic, and gauze into two portions, putting one into his backpack and the other into hers.
Lin Wan watched him stuff the items into her backpack one by one, then suddenly asked, "Why do you always divide everything into two portions?"
Lu Yu's hand paused.
"In case we get separated."
Three words.
Lin Wan's heart felt as if something had given it a gentle squeeze.
He wasn't saying, "We might get separated." He was saying, "If I'm gone, you need to be able to survive."
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but he had already zipped up the backpack.
"Let's go. We've got a long way to cover today."
They left the abandoned house.
The weather was better than it had been the past few days. The cloud cover had thinned a little, and sunlight occasionally leaked through the gaps, shining over the barren fields and dyeing the withered grass a warm gold.
Lin Wan walked behind him, watching their two shadows on the ground.
His shadow was long. Hers followed behind, sometimes overlapping with his for a short stretch before separating again.
They walked for about three hours.
Along the way, they passed an abandoned elementary school. The playground equipment was so rusted it was barely recognizable. One side of the swing's iron chain had snapped, and it swayed back and forth in the wind, creaking.
Lin Wan stopped and looked at the swing.
She remembered when she was little, sitting alone on a swing after school, waiting for someone who would never come to pick her up. Later, she learned not to wait.
"What is it?"
Lu Yu had taken several steps before realizing she hadn't followed. He turned around to look at her.
"Nothing." Lin Wan looked away. "Let's go."
She quickened her pace to catch up with him.
In the afternoon, the sky suddenly darkened.
It wasn't the kind of overcast sky that came with ordinary bad weather. The clouds seemed to have been pressed down by something, gray-black and heavy, blanketing the sky overhead. The cloying sweetness in the air grew stronger, so strong that Lin Wan began to feel dizzy.
Lu Yu quickened his pace.
"It's going to rain," he said. "Find somewhere to take cover."
They ran for nearly twenty minutes before finding an abandoned bus stop by the roadside. The concrete roof was still intact, and three walls offered barely enough protection from the rain.
They had just ducked inside when the rain came down.
Hard. Rain pounded against the roof like a rapid drumbeat. Lin Wan saw the water hit the ground, splashing up with that pale yellow tint.
She huddled farther inside.
Lu Yu stood closer to the outside, positioned between her and the rain.
A few drops splashed onto his shoulder.
Lin Wan reached out and tugged at his sleeve.
"Stand farther inside."
He looked down at her hand.
Then he moved half a step inward.
The rain fell for a long time.
The bus stop was very dark. Only a little gray-white light filtered in through the curtain of rain outside. The two of them stood against the wall, listening to the rain.
Lin Wan grew dizzier and dizzier. The cloying sweetness was like a hand slowly squeezing her temples.
She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
"Don't feel well?"
She opened her eyes. Lu Yu was watching her.
"A little dizzy," she said. "That smell is too strong."
Lu Yu pulled a strip of clean gauze from his backpack and handed it to her.
"Cover your nose and mouth."
Lin Wan took it, folded it in half, and covered her face. The smell faded a little, but she was still dizzy.
She slowly slid down and sat on the ground.
Lu Yu crouched beside her.
He looked at her for a few seconds. Then he reached out with his right hand and brushed the hair back from her forehead.
His touch was very gentle.
So gentle it was as if he were afraid of breaking something.
When his fingertips touched her forehead, they paused.
"You're a little hot," he said.
"Maybe it's the smell..."
"No. You have a fever."
Lin Wan froze for a moment. Only then did she notice that her fingers were icy-cold while her cheeks were burning.
Lu Yu took the canteen from his backpack, unscrewed the cap, and held it to her lips.
"Drink."
She took a few sips. The water was cool as it slid down her throat, carrying away some of the heat.
He reached into the side pocket of his backpack and took out a painkiller, pouring one into his palm.
"Take it."
Lin Wan swallowed the pill.
She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. The dizziness was intense, and the world spun beneath her eyelids.
She didn't know how much time had passed.
In a haze, she felt something being draped over her.
His jacket.
Then she felt her head being gently lifted and resting against something warm.
Not the wall.
His shoulder.
She wanted to open her eyes, but her eyelids were too heavy.
She heard his voice. Very close. Right above her head.
"Lin Wan."
Her heartbeat skipped.
Not because of the fever.
Because this was the first time he'd called her by name.
From the moment they met until now, he had never called her by name. He said, "Go," "Eat," "Sleep," and "Run"—every command without a name attached. She hadn't even been sure he remembered what she was called.
But he remembered.
He had always remembered.
"Mm..." Her voice was indistinct, as if rising from the bottom of very deep water.
"Don't go to sleep."
"I'm so dizzy..."
"I know. But don't go to sleep."
His tone wasn't commanding.
It was a request.
Lin Wan had never heard him speak in that tone.
She struggled to hold on to consciousness, like grasping a rope floating in the water.
"Talk to me," he said.
"About what...?"
Silence stretched for a few seconds.
"Anything."
Leaning against his shoulder, Lin Wan's mind was a blur. She grabbed at the first thought that came to her.
"The food you cook... tastes better than mine."
"Mm."
"But you never say it's good... You only say it's edible..."
"Mm."
"Are edible and inedible... the only two categories you have for everything...?"
"Pretty much."
She smiled. It was a weak smile.
"Then the chickpeas I cooked... were they edible or inedible?"
Lu Yu didn't answer right away.
A few seconds later, he said:
"Edible."
"Liar."
There was another stretch of silence.
"Use less salt next time, and they'll taste better."
Lin Wan felt the corners of her mouth lift.
The rain was loud.
But she could hear his heartbeat.
Through the jacket, through his clothes, through skin and bone.
Steady.
A little faster than hers.
She thought, So his heart could race too.
Her consciousness began to fade.
The last thing she heard was him calling her name again.
"Lin Wan."
This time, his voice was even softer.
So soft it sounded as if he were saying it only to himself.
As if he were making sure something was still there.