Chapter 152 - 140: Qiangwei’s Wound

There was only one wound in my heart that I was most unwilling to tear open: He Qing.

He Qing was just like her name—sunny and radiant. Whether people liked it or not, she would always shine her light. We met on our first day of kindergarten. That day, a bratty kid snatched my lollipop. I didn’t feel much about it; I figured I could just go home and ask my mom for another one. I could even fake a few tears and get two. But He Qing suddenly charged out of nowhere. Like an angry little lion, she shoved the brat, making him stumble, and snatched my lollipop right back. The lollipop was smacked back into my hand, and He Qing’s eyes sparkled.

"If he steals your candy again, you tell me. I’ll beat him up!"

From that day on, He Qing treated protecting me as her responsibility, and we became best friends.

In elementary school, He Qing would tremble while arguing with a vendor outside the school who sold cheap toys, demanding back the money I had been scammed out of. Only when we reached a secluded spot did she hug me, bursting into tears and saying it scared her to death. I wanted to tell He Qing so many times that it didn’t really matter if I got scammed. But seeing how serious she was, I had no choice but to continue playing the role of the protected one.

The three years of middle school were the most solitary years of my life. Perhaps I had seen through the childishness of the rebellious phase early on. I was withdrawn and taciturn, making me an easy target in the eyes of some. Dead bugs started appearing in my desk, my notebooks were often torn to shreds, and I was constantly blocked in the bathroom... Those petty acts of malice really seemed boring to me. I didn’t care; dealing with that crap was less appealing than reading a couple more books.

But He Qing didn’t accept that. She acted as a sturdy shield, using her innate sense of justice and unflinching courage to repel those bullies time and time again. She didn’t even hesitate to argue and fight with them, causing a ruckus known throughout the entire school. She would always rush over like a whirlwind, shield me behind her back, and then turn around to glare at me. "Bai Qiang, you quiet loner! Can’t you yell when someone bullies you?"

Her tone was fierce, but her eyes were warm.

Later, we got into a key high school together. She remained radiant, with countless friends. She was a good student in the eyes of the teachers and the life of the party to her classmates. I, on the other hand, was still the same Bai Qiang—lazy, unenthusiastic about everything, and huddled in the shadow of her light. She was full of energy, participating in various activities, while my greatest joys were zoning out and reading leisure books.

She would always say, "Qiangwei, what are you going to do in the future? You can’t rely on me forever, right?"

I would say, "Yep, I’m just going to cling to you for the rest of my life."

Our senior year of high school was chaotic. He Qing was still full of vitality, even busier than before. One day, she excitedly told me, "Qiangwei, I’ve decided. I’m going to apply to the police academy and become a cop. How cool is that? I can specialize in taking down bad guys!" Pure light flickered in her eyes; she genuinely loved this identity and loved upholding justice.

She asked me, "What about you? Have you figured out what to study in college?"

Resting my head on my book-piled desk, I told her, "I want to study a major that lets me earn enough to support myself without having to work much."

Furious, He Qing rapped my forehead with her pen, calling me a slacker. Then, she started calculating how she could support two people on a police officer’s salary. The sunlight filtered through the window and bathed her face in gold, carrying the scent of midsummer.

But what ended earlier than midsummer was He Qing’s life.

That night, I groggily picked up a call from He Qing. She was crying on the other end of the line.

"Qiangwei... I killed someone... I killed... my mom... I killed my mom!"

My sleepiness was instantly jolted away. "What did you say? Calm down! What happened? Aunt He..."

"It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. I can never be a police officer again, Qiangwei..."

Her voice was filled with self-loathing and total breakdown. I didn’t know what had happened, so I could only try to comfort her first.

"Qingqing, listen to me, it’s not your fault. Calm down first and tell me where you are. Are you at home? I’m coming over right now!" I babbled incoherently while frantically scrambling to get dressed.

The crying on the other end paused. Then, I heard her calm yet hollow voice.

"Qiangwei... I’m sorry."

The call disconnected, leaving only a cold dial tone.

I dashed out of my house like a madwoman, calling her phone continuously, but I couldn’t get through. By the time I rushed to He Qing’s home, it was too late. From afar, I saw the crowd gathered below her apartment building, the blinding police lights, and... a small, white-cloth-covered silhouette on the ground.

"...The academic pressure must have been too much..."

"I heard her mom just passed away. She couldn’t take the blow..."

"Such a good girl. Why would she do something so foolish...?"

I shoved through the crowd and stumbled forward, only to be stopped by the police. I saw Uncle He, a man who was always so cheerful, sprawled there wailing, slapping his own face in heart-wrenching agony.

Later, through the police investigation, Uncle He’s sobbing account, and He Qing’s suicide note, I finally learned the truth.

It turned out that during the second semester of our sophomore year, He Qing’s mother hadn’t actually recovered and been discharged from the hospital like she claimed. After her mother was discharged, she was paralyzed in bed, relying on a ventilator to sustain her life. The massive medical expenses crushed their once-cozy little family. Uncle He worked desperately, toiling day and night, while He Qing would rush home after school to take care of her mother and share her father’s burden.

She never mentioned a single word of this to me. She just... visited my house a little less often and occasionally looked a bit tired. But every time she appeared before me, she was still that energetic He Qing. She would still help me organize my notes, drag me out of bed when I was feeling lazy, and jokingly tease me with a smile. Her smile was still like sunlight, without a trace of gloom.

Why didn’t I notice? Because I was used to her care. I was used to her radiance. I felt that she was He Qing, the omnipotent little sun—what could possibly knock her down? Our senior year was so busy, and I was overwhelmed with my own schoolwork. I naturally immersed myself in my own world and took her sunlight for granted, never once considering whether this sunlight was burning her final reserves of energy. I thought her exhaustion was merely from her heavy academic load. I thought her occasional silence meant she was pondering a difficult problem. I even... because of my own solitary and lazy nature, chose not to pry or disturb her when she was quiet. I foolishly believed that maintaining the status quo was the best form of comfort.

Aunt He had been tormented by illness and a life stripped of dignity for a year. That night, taking advantage of He Qing going to rest, she pulled out the ventilator tube she relied on to survive. When He Qing discovered this, Aunt He’s face had already turned purple. He Qing tried to reconnect the tube, but Aunt He suddenly lashed out. Using her final ounce of strength, she cursed He Qing with the most vicious and unbearable words.

"Why won’t you let me die... you... selfish brat...

"It’s all because of you... and your dad... that I’m living a life worse than death...

"I hate you... I hate you..."

Those words viciously pierced He Qing’s already overwhelmed heart. She looked at her mother’s face, twisted by suffocation and fury, and saw that the eyes once filled with love, at this moment, held only deep-seated resentment.

He Qing broke down. The string that had supported her for so long finally snapped. She gave up, watching helplessly as her own mother suffocated bit by bit, watching as that body went completely limp.

But in that instance, in He Qing’s heart, it wasn’t her mother who had given up on life; she believed she had murdered her own mother with her own hands. The justice she upheld, the police badge she dreamed of, her sunny future... everything collapsed in the face of her mother’s hateful gaze and cold corpse. She felt she had become the most despicable murderer, unworthy of continuing to live in this world, let alone pursuing the uniform that represented justice.

It wasn’t until a long time later that I truly understood that He Qing had been sick all along. She suffered from something called "smiling depression." Her brilliant smile, her boundless vitality, and the strength with which she protected others were all a heavy mask she wore. Beneath that mask was a soul that had long been gnawed full of holes by the burdens of life and her mother’s illness. She had firmly suppressed all her negative energy deep in her heart, showing only the most beautiful and positive side to the world, especially to me. She had constantly been burning herself to illuminate others, until... she burned out completely.

And I was right beside her, yet I failed to realize she was sick sooner, failed to catch her in her most desperate hour. I watched her increasingly gaunt face force a smile, heard her occasional sighs but mistook them for academic stress, and took her protection and warmth for granted with total peace of mind. My laziness, my aloofness, and my damn lack of interest in my surroundings made me miss every signal for help she sent out. I should have been the person closest to her, should have been her most trusted outlet. Yet, when she needed a lifeline the most, I was as oblivious as a blind person and as indifferent as a stranger!

"I’m sorry, Qingqing, I’m sorry..."

In this moment, facing the pressure of death, I tore open this wound once more, pouring out the sorrow and self-blame that had been suppressed in my heart for years. He Qing had been gone for so many years, yet at this moment, she helped me once again in this manner.

She could have become a police officer and protected so many people.

What she failed to accomplish, I will do from now on!