Chapter 24: Heartache

Rousseau’s steps grew lighter as he approached the landlord’s house.

It was already evening. Under the dusky sky, his hurried footsteps echoed his longing for Lu Xiaoyu, whom he hadn’t seen in nearly ten days. He had brought her several gifts—mostly food from the cafeteria, not much, since it would spoil if kept too long.

He thought that once he received his salary, perhaps he should buy a refrigerator for their home. Not only could they store food, but in the summer they could enjoy ice cream and cold drinks.

The landlord’s four buildings formed a "pin" character shape in the middle of the urban village: three rental buildings surrounded the one in which the landlord’s family lived. Rousseau navigated the familiar path between the outer three and entered the landlord’s courtyard.

Inside, the first floor, with its wide windows, was brightly lit. It seemed the family had just finished dinner. The landlord’s son and daughters, along with their families, were gathered in the living room, chatting and eating fruit.

Rousseau immediately spotted Lu Xiaoyu, sitting obediently beside the old landlord on a small chair, her expression somewhat distant.

At that moment, the landlord’s eldest son—the electronics factory owner—held out a bunch of grapes, teasing her, “Xiaoyu, come sing a song for Uncle, and I’ll give you some grapes to eat.”

Lu Xiaoyu smiled politely but distantly. “Thank you, Uncle, but I don’t want any.”

“Then have some watermelon. Sing a song and you can have some watermelon,” the slightly plump eldest son said with a grin.

“No, thank you, Uncle,” Lu Xiaoyu shook her head again.

“This little girl really doesn’t know how to behave. Can’t even do a little performance,” the eldest son’s wife muttered as she shelled sunflower seeds.

“If you want a performance, do it yourself!” the old landlord, watching the news on TV, was displeased and glared at his daughter-in-law. “Don’t stir up trouble all the time!”

“I wasn’t stirring up trouble~” the daughter-in-law quickly put on a flattering smile. “I just wanted everyone to have a little fun.”

“Don’t mind her, she’s uneducated. Here, Xiaoyu, have some watermelon, some grapes.” The old landlord placed the fruit platter in front of Lu Xiaoyu.

Lu Xiaoyu gave the old man a gentle smile. “Thank you, Grandpa, but I don’t want any.”

At this, Rousseau could no longer hold back. A wave of guilt, anger, and helplessness surged in his chest. He stood at the door, wanting to push it open forcefully, but in the end, he simply knocked twice.

He stepped in, meeting everyone’s eyes—especially Lu Xiaoyu’s.

Her eyes lit up, as if a barren steppe had, in an instant, blossomed with wildflowers and birdsong; a surge of joy swept away the hardship of life.

...

Back in their own home.

It was still the same one-bedroom apartment with only half a window letting in sunlight. It could not compare to the landlord’s splendid residence, nor to the bright, tidy dormitory at the sports academy. Yet it was warm and welcoming—the only shelter the siblings had from the storms of the world.

Humming, Lu Xiaoyu rummaged through Rousseau’s bag. She first found the food.

“Oh! Roast chicken. And bananas. Wow—there’s yogurt too!” She kissed the yogurt bottle; she loved the special yogurt from the sports academy.

All of it had been bought with his cafeteria card—about all Rousseau could manage for now. The memory of Lu Xiaoyu’s vacant expression at the landlord’s house filled him with waves of self-reproach that still hadn’t faded.

“Brother, are you upset?” Lu Xiaoyu, pulling out a pile of delicious treats and brimming with happiness, turned to see Rousseau sitting there with a somber face.

“Ah... no,” Rousseau shook his head.

There were many things he couldn’t say—saying them would only make things harder. Life was like this; living under someone else’s roof was like this. If you have the ability, you change your life. If not, there’s no use wallowing in self-pity.

“It’s so rare for you to see your adorable little sister—you should be happy!” Lu Xiaoyu came over and pinched his cheeks, coaxing him to smile. Rousseau pulled her onto his knee and grinned broadly.

“Oh, this is from a girl on my team,” Rousseau remembered, feeling a box in his pocket as he hugged Lu Xiaoyu. He took out the box of hair ties that Juno had asked him to give her.

Lu Xiaoyu’s eyes sparkled as she examined the box, but then her expression turned odd.

“I knew it wasn’t from you,” she said.

“I told you, a teammate gave it to me,” Rousseau replied.

“Because you can’t afford it,” Lu Xiaoyu said, pulling out a hair tie and pointing to the golden ‘C’ on the tag. “This is a CH hair tie. I’ve only seen it in magazines. It’s a luxury brand—each one costs several hundred yuan.”

Each one... several hundred?

Rousseau stared, picking out another tie to examine. He couldn’t see how it differed from the ones on the street for five cents apiece—except for that golden tag.

If one cost several hundred, and there were nearly ten here, then the box was worth... several thousand, maybe ten thousand?

“Xiaoyu, are you kidding me?” Rousseau couldn’t believe it.

“Brother!” Lu Xiaoyu was indignant. “I haven’t even asked you what kind of relationship you have with her, for her to give you such expensive hair ties, and you doubt me?”

What kind of relationship... Rousseau was taken aback. Though there was nothing between them, Lu Xiaoyu’s tone made it sound otherwise. He thought for a moment, then explained, “She just gave them to me in passing—maybe because her family is really wealthy.”

Indeed, Rousseau recalled meeting Juno at the sports academy gates that afternoon. She was on her way to eat when he said he was heading home, and she asked him to wait. Ten minutes later, she came running from her dorm with the box of hair ties, handing them over with the casual air of a girl sharing a trinket.

“Maybe she doesn’t know how expensive these are?” Rousseau asked Lu Xiaoyu.

“No girl is unaware of the price of her own jewelry and cosmetics,” Lu Xiaoyu huffed.

“If they’re so expensive, I’ll give them back to her,” Rousseau said.

“No, don’t—if you do, it’ll seem like you care too much, and people will look down on you,” Lu Xiaoyu insisted, still a little indignant. But she automatically straightened his collar, muttering, “My brother is so wonderful—he’s good enough for anyone...”

And so the matter ended there.

But Lu Xiaoyu made a mental note of the name Juno.

Then she found another bag Rousseau had brought back.

“What’s in this one?” she asked curiously.

Rousseau sighed. That bag held memories he’d rather forget and a future he could hardly bear. Soon, Lu Xiaoyu pulled out a pile of calculus, English, and Chinese papers.

“Brother, you’re studying calculus now,” she remarked after glancing at one.

“You can understand it?” Rousseau was surprised.

Lu Xiaoyu pressed her lips together and smiled modestly.