Chapter Nineteen: Her Memories (2013)

  The sun began to set in the west, and the clouds were like a woven curtain, unfolding from the western mountainside. As it gradually darkened, the city lights began to turn on one by one, and this small district was no exception.

  Turning on the light, Ahn Ji-soo shook her wheelchair back from the living room to the bedroom.

  An hour ago, Lin Xiujing had something urgent and hastily made some dinner for her, after leaving, there was only one person left in the house.

  A 30-ping house, when only one person is present, can feel quite desolate. However, in her opinion, it's actually better this way. Many times, she prefers to be alone, whether you call it being introverted or self-enclosed. The day of the car accident, the oncoming vehicle that crashed into her and crushed her lower limbs also completely shut the once-open door to her lively heart.

  All dreams were shattered, and without them to cover it up, the cruelty of reality was starkly exposed.

  Many times I think, if he wasn't standing by her side, if he hadn't opened his arms to shelter her under his wings, if he hadn't accompanied her with meticulous care... she might have left this world long ago.

  The TV in the bedroom was playing a live broadcast of Music Bank, and she stopped her electric wheelchair in front of it. On the screen, the camera chased after Ahn Jun-hee's figure. Brilliant or pale light effects surrounded him as he moved, and on stage were Seongpoong-gyeong, Kim Jong-kook, and Bae Suzy, like stars guarding him, while below the stage was a cacophony of screams and cheers that even the music couldn't drown out.

  Just quietly watching him create a sensation, watching him get an award, watching him calmly and smilingly say thanks to the camera before going up on the Encore stage.

  A long list of thank-yous, thanking the company, thanking Teacher Li Xiu Man, thanking her agent, thanking her seniors... everyone was thanked, except for her. But she didn't feel disappointed at all, because he had already given her the greatest gift - although that gift was something she no longer liked.

  The program ended on the encore stage, Ahn Ji-soo quietly turned off the TV, and in the moment when the screen went dark, the unlit bedroom also became gloomy. Only through the half-open door, a streak of light from the living room extended in, faintly stretching to the bed, casting a beam of light on the surface of the bedding.

  She wheeled herself to the bedside in her wheelchair, pressed a button to raise it to the same height as the bed, and then, with both hands grasping the mattress edge, laboriously hauled her lower body up.

  The mattress under her body was actually very soft, but for her, the numb lower limbs couldn't feel the comfort they should have had. Only when she slowly adjusted her posture with both hands and finally lay down, covered by the thick quilt, could she feel a little bit of softness and a hint of warmth.

  That's An Junhe's style!

  Yes, this is not her bedroom, nor her bed. This small space belongs to Ahn Jun-hee. Every night, he reads books here, rests here, and breathes... every speck of dust seems to have absorbed his scent, leaving his mark. Therefore, whenever he leaves, this place becomes An Ji-hyun's haven!

  With her head on the soft pillow, the girl quietly closed her eyes and breathed steadily and slowly, as if only in this way could she more deeply savor the feeling of his breath surrounding her.

  Dad has been gone for a long time, and Mom has left too. In this gradually fading and empty world, the only thing that can warm her cold heart is these breaths and their owners. It's as if being surrounded by them gives her infinite security, and she's no longer afraid, just like when she was a little girl many years ago.

  The night outside the window slowly and firmly descended upon the earth, the girl on the bed pulled up her quilt, let out a soft sigh, and fell asleep, having a dream...

  ……

  "Brother, I'm cold..."

  This winter in Busan was as cold as the north, and I had just moved to Haeundae with everything still in its initial stages. My father passed away, and the medical expenses for his final days completely depleted our family's already meager savings, forcing us to sell our old house. Moving to Haeundae was my mother's last effort after piecing together what little we had left. All the money she had invested in her grilled food stall, but business was slow due to the cold winter, and we didn't even have a steady income for three meals a day. Our economic difficulties only allowed us to find a simple old rental house to temporarily stay in. The thin walls of the rental house couldn't block out the cold air, and like many poor families, we couldn't afford electric heaters or floor heating, and our small house was as cold as an icehouse.

  It can even be described as "a family of four with empty walls".

  There was no light, only a sliver of bright moonlight shining down from the skylight with a block of glass, providing weak illumination. An Zhixiu lay in bed, and even though she had rolled up her quilt tightly, she still shivered with cold.

  The mat under her was not thick, and the bed was made of bricks picked up and piled into four corners, with a hard wooden board casually put on top. The thin surface of the board made it impossible for her weak body to dissipate enough heat to keep warm.

  She trembled her lips and shouted to the opposite side, then on the other small bed over there, her brother sat up, seemingly considering for a while before getting out of bed. He came over here with his quilt and hugged her into his arms: "Is it better like this?"

  "Ah, much better." An Zhixiu burrowed into his arms and replied, but in fact, his body was just as cold as hers.

  "If only we could bring the coal stove from outside into here." Ahn Jun-hee, who was gently patting her back, seemed to feel that her body was still shaking and said with a bit of regret. The coal stove was very heavy, an old-fashioned iron stove. He was about the same age as her, and even if he could move it, his mom would scold them when she came back. For two young children, a coal stove burning in a closed room was more terrifying and deadly than anything else.

  Lying quietly in bed, the two siblings didn't say another word, hugging each other tightly and greedily absorbing each other's body heat, warming each other with their own.

  It wasn't long before the nest finally warmed up, and her limbs were no longer trembling with a fear that made her heart shrink into a ball, as if it would burst at any moment. Leaning against her brother's slender arm, Zhishu let out a comfortable sigh, humming softly like a little cat.

  "Not asleep yet, still cold?"

  Feeling the hand on her back, stroking her hair, Jishu looked up at him under the moonlight pouring in from the skylight, his face so close and yet so similar to hers. Without answering his question, she blinked and suddenly said: "Bro... it's been a long time since we slept together."

  Yes! I don't know when it started, but they no longer sleep in the same bed, no longer hug intimately, and no longer take baths together naked like they used to when they were younger.

  They are twins. In the years before, too many memories filled each other's shadows, like two sides of a mirror that cannot be separated, as if they were one body.

  But one day, she suddenly found that this feeling of being inseparable began to fade away. Her brother no longer accompanied her everywhere and started to become independent. One day after school, when she returned home, she discovered that a new bed had been added in the bedroom by her mother.

  The girl felt confused and a little sad, but she wasn't quite sure why. Her brother was still being nice to her, and she didn't think he disliked her or anything. It's just that for an instant, her heart felt empty, as if she had lost something very important. This gave rise to a sense of regret that she couldn't understand at such a young age, but only came to comprehend much later on.

  "Ah!" His fingers slipped through her hair, and with a soft rustling sound, he smiled: "We've grown up, haven't we?"

  Here is this answer again!

  The girl pouted, her mother had said so too. She didn't understand why they had to be apart when they grew up. Wasn't it better like before?

  Sulkily leaning against his chest, the pitch-black quilt wrapped around them, their entwined body heat warming the air, carrying a faint, milky scent. His chest wasn't broad or thick, thin to the point where you could clearly feel the outline of his ribs when leaning against him, and as a result, the heavy heartbeat fell into her ears without a single leak.

  Listen, listen, she suddenly realized with surprise that her heartbeat was exactly the same frequency as it.

  Plop... plop...

  Heavy sounds converged on her eardrums, vibrating them, almost making her think they shared a single heartbeat.

  "Brother, our heartbeats are the same!" She lifted her head and excitedly told her brother about this discovery, her fluffy pigtails shaking behind her head like a little squirrel.

  Staring at her brother with wide eyes, the pure and innocent eyes released joy unreservedly, "Brother, is this what people call telepathy?"

  The dream became blurred at this moment, and Zhī Xiù, who was sleeping lightly, clearly remembered her mood at that time. She was still a little girl, with a brain full of fanciful imagination.

  If it were really a heart-to-heart connection, how wonderful would that be? Jishu thought to herself, "Brother must be thinking the same thing." Jishu felt warmth, and Brother must have felt the same warmth too. When Brother carried Jishu on his back through the rain and snow, struggling to move forward, Jishu could share some of his fatigue and sweat. Even when Brother fought with those bad kids and got a bloody nose, and Jishu couldn't help but hide aside and cry, she could still share some of the pain and hurt he felt.

  If it were really like that, they would never be apart again. Even if they grew up to be as big as their mother, they would still not be apart.

  This was the innocent yet most stubborn idea that had been etched in Ahn Ji-soo's mind since back then, when she had pigtails and would sometimes have a runny nose and cry weakly.

  It firmly became the only pillar that supported her spiritual world after the car accident, even if she knew when she grew up that the same heartbeat frequency wasn't so magical, yet still held onto some longing.

  The girl, who was breathing in the familiar scent beside her pillow and continuing to drift into another dream, had tears sliding down from the corners of her eyes. One drop fell onto her earlobe, moistening her cheek and hair. Another rolled down the bridge of her nose and landed on the corner of her mouth, leaving a bitter-sweet joy lingering on her lips.

  An Junhe can give up everything for An Zhixiu's dream, and An Zhixiu can also give up everything just to live for him!