"Kang Dang—" Something hit the door with a heavy muffled sound, and then with a "snap", the thing fell to the ground again, as if it was broken.

"Mom! Mom!" 8-year-old Yang Xuan clenched his fists and beat on the door of his room with all his strength, "Mom, open the door!"

However, no one came to open the door for him, and the only answer was the crisp sound of a huge vase falling to the ground.

"Yang Chengchuan, where did you hide the divorce notice! Don't think I don't know what tricks you two are up to—" Yang Xuan heard his mother's hysterical crying outside the door, and he hurried to the door Look, he was afraid that his mother would do something to hurt him, but the door was too narrow, and he couldn't see anything, so he could only raise his arm and slam the door anxiously, and one side of his arm was swollen Only then did he sit weakly on the ground, silently listening to the sound of things being smashed by the wind and rain outside.

Once that demon took possession of his mother's body, he would be locked in his room, listening to the noises outside and unable to do anything.

"Xiaoxuan, Xiaoxuan."

After some time, Yang Xuan heard his mother's voice, which sounded soft and gentle through a solid wooden door.

After some manic venting, the devil left his mother's body, and she returned to her usual gentle and decent appearance.

Yang Xuan sniffed, raised his hands to wipe away the tears on his face, then stood up with his hands on the ground, raised his arms and turned the doorknob, pulling the door open.

"Mom." He tried his best to pretend nothing happened, but when he opened the door, he froze.

His mother was sitting among the broken porcelain pieces scattered all over the floor, her arms were covered with bruises, her back was leaning on the sofa, and she was looking in the direction of the door blankly.

"Mom—" Yang Xuan rushed over, anxiously inspecting the interlaced wounds on his mother's arms, they were oozing blood, bright red was blinding. He panicked and went to pull the tissue on the table, squatting down to wipe the blood on his mother's arm, but she remained silent as if she couldn't feel the pain.

Yang Xuan raised his head and tentatively shook his mother's shoulder: "Mom, does it hurt?"

Those eyes were still open, without a breath of life. Yang Xuan's heart suddenly rose to his throat, and his whole body was engulfed by a huge panic. He stretched out his hand, his fingertips trembling uncontrollably, wanting to Close to his mother's nose, the closer he got, the more his fingertips trembled. Before he got close enough, he withdrew his hand in panic and cried out in despair: "Mom—"

Yang Xuan suddenly opened his eyes in the darkness, and then let out a heavy breath.

I dreamed about this scene again. He sat up frowning, raised his hand and pressed the switch on the wall to turn on the ceiling light. He got out of bed and walked to the balcony to get a lighter, sat on the edge of the bed and smoked silently, a cigarette was almost burnt out, and the panic and despair pent up in his heart in the dream gradually dissipated.

In fact, the scene in the dream never happened. His mother would always tidy herself up and release him from the room after she regained her senses. But Yang Xuan has been dreaming of this scene since he was 7 years old. He opened the door and saw that his mother had committed suicide—that was the thing he was most afraid of happening.

Yang Xuan doesn't like birthdays, especially after his mother is gone.

In the past, his mother celebrated every birthday for him. Although after the incident at the age of 7, her mental state has been erratic, with ups and downs, but every year on his birthday , she will adjust to her best condition.

Every birthday in the past, his mother would write him a letter, the content of the letter was varied, sometimes esoteric and sometimes simple. At that time, Yang Xuan often said that she didn't understand much, but she never explained it to him.

"You'll figure it out when you grow up," she always said.

Yang Xuan put out his cigarette, stood up and walked to the display cabinet, raised his hand and took out a kraft paper bag from the top floor, held it in his hand, and sat back on the bed. He pulled out a stack of letter paper from inside, and looked down at the familiar and distant handwriting on it.

"Xiaoxuan, happy 14th birthday. Congratulations to you for being one year older and one step closer to freedom and the distance. This is something to be happy about."

"However, thinking that you will be away from your mother in four years and go out on your own, I still feel a little sad and sad (of course there is a little happiness mixed in with it). I really want to jump a few years later and see how you grow up Ah, I think you will grow up to be a mature but not worldly, kind but not weak boy, and my mother is looking forward to this day."

"Xiaoxuan, you must always remember to respect the rules of this society, but don't be bound by them, and be a free and kind person. Remember, kindness is the most precious quality in this world. No matter what happens, please don't Let it go away from you."

…

This is the last letter his mother left him, and the signature is still the same sentence "Mom loves you" for more than ten years.

Yang Xuan stuffed the letter back into the envelope, lay down on the bed, and covered his eyes with the envelope to block the glaring light from the ceiling.

Mature without being worldly, kind without being weak... what does that look like? Respect the rules of society without being bound by them, so what should he do?

Yang Xuan felt that he had a lot of questions to ask his mother, but she couldn't answer him anymore. However, even if she was still there, she probably wouldn't answer herself. Yang Xuan could almost predict that his mother would smile and say, "You will understand when you grow up." But now that he's grown up, why doesn't he understand?

Compared with his mother, his father Yang Chengchuan's request for him is much easier to understand, but it is "becoming a recognized elite class in this society"—just like himself. This can be seen from the birthday present he sent. The expensive suit and watch represent all his expectations of himself.

Yang Xuan could imagine himself wearing them - he would definitely look like Yang Chengchuan. But he didn't want to become like that, even if he became the most mediocre person, he would never allow himself to become another Yang Chengchuan.

It is true that Yang Chengchuan, wearing such an expensive suit and watch, has received countless envious looks and respect that ordinary people can't match along the way, but what's the point of that? He's just a sad adult who doesn't even look down on his own son.

So...if his mother was still around, how would she want her to treat this half-brother? Yang Xuan thought of the way Tang Junhe looked at him, it seemed to be brighter and brighter than those flickering candles, even if he didn't want to be lit, he couldn't convince himself to hate the radiant light source—after all, Who would hate a star that lights up in the endless darkness?

He raised his arms with his eyes closed, fumbled for the switch on the wall, turned off the overhead light, and sighed in the darkness.

***

The next morning, Tang Junhe went downstairs early and waited at the entrance of the corridor. Because of the sprain a few days ago, he had a new excuse for Yang Xuan to ride him by bicycle.

"Brother." Seeing Yang Xuan coming down from the elevator, Tang Junhe called out to him, and the crisp voice rang out in the corridor in the morning.

Yang Xuan let out a "huh", walked to the bicycle, unlocked it, and drove the bicycle out of the corridor, with one long leg straddling the seat to support the ground.

"Brother, you ride first, I'll jump up from behind." Tang Junhe said standing behind him with his schoolbag in his hand.

Yang Xuan turned his head and asked, "Didn't you sprain your ankle?"

Tang Junhe scratched his head and said, "But I want to try..."

"Let's try it later." Yang Xuan paused and spoke.

He said so, Tang Junhe had no choice but to sit on it directly with his schoolbag in his arms—this way of getting on the bus was really demoralizing, he thought. But the depression only lasted a few seconds, and he was happy again, after all, he was able to go to school with his brother again, and, besides, his brother didn't seem to hate him very much.

Tang Junhe grabbed Yang Xuan's school uniform and couldn't help humming softly. As he hummed, he wondered how he could find a way to stay in his brother's room at night.

- The night is so long, it would be great if he could stay with Yang Xuan, he thought.

When he was about to get to school, he suddenly thought of it.

"Brother, have you finished eating the cake?" He asked sitting in the back seat.

"No." Yang Xuan said, subconsciously waiting for his next question. But Tang Junhe didn't continue to ask, which made him feel a little baffled.

It was only at night that Yang Xuan realized why he asked that question in the morning.

At ten fifteen, Yang Xuan suddenly heard a few extremely slight knocks on the door. He got up from the bed, walked slowly to the door, opened the door and looked at Tang Junhe.

"Brother, I'm a little hungry..." Tang Junhe raised his chin slightly to look at him, his eyes were full of temptation and expectation, "I want to eat cake..."

"Let me get it for you." Yang Xuan let go of the doorknob, turned around and walked to the freezer, bent down and took out the cake, handed it to Tang Junhe and said, "Take it back, I don't like this much." For some reason, Although he knew that Tang Junhe would insist on eating cakes in his room, Yang Xuan still told him that on purpose, and the next second when he saw the anxious look in Tang Junhe's eyes again, he didn't I didn't realize the kind of emotion that could be called "successful" that flashed in my brain.

"But I don't have a refrigerator in my room, it's easy to break, and there's no place to put the refrigerator in the living room," Tang Junhe hurriedly explained, and then tentatively asked, "Brother, let me eat in your room, I'll eat some A little bit is enough..."

"Then eat here." Yang Xuan didn't seem to care, after saying this, he leaned on his bed and continued to read.

Tang Junhe spread the cake box on the ground, put the cake on it, then sat down on the ground, turned sideways to face Yang Xuan, cut a small piece of cake and started eating.

While eating with his head down, he secretly observed Yang Xuan. Yang Xuan was reading a book called "Blade Edge", turning a page backwards from time to time, turning a blind eye to Tang Junhe who was sitting on the ground eating cake.

Tang Junhe ate the cake contentedly, thinking in his heart, if he eats a small piece a day, he should be able to eat it for a week, right? That is to say, during this week, he could go to Yang Xuan's room every night... Thinking of this, he felt that the decision to skip class to buy cakes was really right.

After eating a small piece of cake, Tang Junhe put the cake back into the box, squatted up and put it back in the freezer, then stood up and said, "Brother, I'm full."

"Well," Yang Xuan put down the book in his hand, looked up at him, "Go back to sleep."

"Brother, what time do you go to bed at night?"

"Around eleven o'clock." Yang Xuan said.

Knowing that he ate a little slower just now, Tang Junhe felt a little regretful. Thinking about it this way, he had already planned in his heart that he would eat a little longer tomorrow.