Chapter 50 – The most beautiful scenery (End of Main Text)

Translator: Abo Dammen

Looking back on this moment later, both of them found it quite amusing. Fu Nan’an, needless to say, was his usual restrained self, though he had rubbed Chi Zhao’s cheek red. Chi Zhao, on the other hand, lost his composure completely. He had been working for three years by then, no longer a young student. He’d experienced plenty of big and small situations, and the nurse was still standing right there, yet he couldn’t hold back his emotions and just threw himself into Fu Nan’an’s arms. Thankfully, the nurse was used to such scenes. She finished removing the sutures, pushed her cart out, and left the two of them to their intimacy in the hospital room. Hospitals themselves are places that witness the whole spectrum of human joy and sorrow, and no one would mock sincere feelings.

“Professor! Professor!” Still riding the wave of emotion, Chi Zhao didn’t even notice when the nurse left. All his focus was on Fu Nan’an. The moment he knew Fu Nan’an could see, he completely fell apart. He called out for his Professor Fu over and over, asking if he could really see. His eyes were sore, and his heart felt like it was being squeezed.

“I can see,” Fu Nan’an said very gently. “I can see.”

Chi Zhao still didn’t quite dare believe it. He held up his fingers in front of Fu Nan’an’s face: “You can really see? Then tell me, what number is this?”

Chi Zhao’s slender fingers were tense. Fu Nan’an smiled. “Two.”

Chi Zhao changed the gesture. “And this one?”

Fu Nan’an said, “Five.”

He changed it again. “Now this one.”

Fu Nan’an: “Three.”

It was something even kindergarteners had outgrown, yet Chi Zhao stubbornly insisted Fu Nan’an answer. But it was understandable. They had waited for this day for far too long, and Chi Zhao, in particular, had put unimaginable effort into it. Emotions are inherently hard to control. Years of waiting had finally become reality. Chi Zhao was actually quite restrained, merely burying his head in Fu Nan’an’s chest, calling his name and confirming it repeatedly.

Chi Zhao asked, and Fu Nan’an humored him, naming whatever was pointed at. Finally, after who knows how many numbers, Chi Zhao’s arm was getting sore from holding it up. Fu Nan’an didn’t answer the next question but gently enveloped Chi Zhao’s hand with his own.

“I can see.” Fu Nan’an’s body temperature was a bit lower than Chi Zhao’s, but held like this, Chi Zhao felt like his whole body was burning.

The large, gentle hand enveloped Chi Zhao’s perfectly. Fu Nan’an’s voice was exceptionally soft. “Whatever number you show, I can see it.”

Professor Fu could really see. It took a long while before Chi Zhao finally dared to believe it completely.

Right after the bandages were removed, his vision was still somewhat dim and distorted, but it gradually became clearer. Having gone so long without visual stimulation, initially, Fu Nan’an found it difficult to connect what he saw with what he had previously touched or heard. But as time passed, this sense of unfamiliarity gradually faded. Professor Fu could now rely on the artificial retina to distinguish objects and recognize people.

When he was admitted to the hospital, Fu Nan’an came leaning on a blind cane, taking each step with care. At discharge, it was different. The once-essential blind cane became an optional accessory, cumbersome and awkward whether held in hand or packed in a suitcase.

“How come I never noticed how much space this thing took up before?” The night before returning to China, as they packed together, Chi Zhao knelt half-over the suitcase, struggling for a long time but failing to find a spot for this cane.

The cane was telescopic, actually quite lightweight and portable. But because it was no longer needed, even the smallest thing felt like it took up too much space.

“Maybe we should just throw it away,” Chi Zhao said, half in frustration, as it really wouldn’t fit. He tossed it casually onto the floor. The titanium alloy material made a clear sound as it hit the ground. Chi Zhao immediately felt a pang of regret. Regardless of anything else, this thing was really expensive, equipped with many necessary functions for the blind.

“Never mind, never mind, I’ll try again,” Chi Zhao shook his head helplessly and reached to stuff the cane into the suitcase again. Before his fingers could touch it, Fu Nan’an bent down and picked it up first.

“Don’t pack it,” Fu Nan’an said calmly.

Chi Zhao was startled. “Not pack it? Will you carry it through security?”

“Why would I carry it through security?” Fu Nan’an countered. “Can’t we just not take it back?”

At this point, Chi Zhao still hadn’t quite processed it. He stared blankly, about to ask Fu Nan’an why, the “why” already on his lips, before he suddenly understood the reason and laughed.

“Right,” Chi Zhao slapped his forehead. “Why should we take it back?”

No matter how expensive it was, they didn’t need to take it back. Professor Fu didn’t need it anymore. This thought kept Chi Zhao happy for several days. In the end, they gave the blind cane together to someone else in the ophthalmology ward who needed it.

There are far too many eye diseases, they can’t all be solved by a single artificial retina. Limited by technology, Fu Nan’an’s vision couldn’t be restored to its pre-illness state. He couldn’t use his eyes for long periods or perform fine tasks like threading a needle. But this was already enough. Fu Nan’an would no longer face doubt because of his eye disease, nor would he feel regret at not being able to see Chi Zhao. Medicine is always advancing, and they are still on the journey.

After being abroad for nearly half a month, by the time they returned, everyone knew about Fu Nan’an’s restored sight. His departmental colleagues need no mention since they had asked multiple times. What surprised Chi Zhao the most was Chen Kaiji. Upon hearing Professor Fu was better, Chen Kaiji specially gathered the whole group of classmates from their internship days to celebrate for Fu Nan’an.

Five years had passed in a flash. Over these years, Chi Zhao hadn’t kept in close contact with Chen Kaiji. They used to connect frequently during graduate school, but after starting work, both became busy. Zhou Ruoyao was from out of town. After graduating, they settled down and built their careers in her hometown. Not being in the same place anymore, contact naturally dwindled. They only called to exchange greetings during holidays, with no further interaction.

But the very reason friends are called friends is that no matter how far apart they are, they still hold each other in their hearts. When Chen Kaiji and Zhou Ruoyao were getting married and buying a house at the end of the year, Chi Zhao, without a second word, took out his entire personal savings. Now that Fu Nan’an’s eyes were better, Chen Kaiji was happier than anyone. Not only did he organize this gathering, but he also drank more alcohol during the meal than Chi Zhao and Fu Nan’an combined.

Zhou Ruoyao was starting to find it a bit hard to watch and tried to persuade him. “You should drink a bit less.”

“No way! I’m happy today!” Chen Kaiji immediately protested, and without another word, downed the entire glass in one go, his attitude quite firm.

But don’t be fooled by Chen Kaiji’s imposing demeanor just now. A little while later, thoroughly drunk, he immediately clung to Zhou Ruoyao’s arm, refusing to let go. “Wifey, my head hurts,” he said. “I need a kiss from my wifey to get up!”

Who knows where he picked up such a cheesy pick-up line. Zhou Ruoyao wasn’t having any of it. “What did I just tell you? I told you to drink less, and you kept going!”

“I was wrong, wifey! I really know I was wrong,” Chen Kaiji’s tone instantly softened, sounding as pitiful as a wronged child, yet he persisted, “But right now, I just want you to kiss me.”

Their conversation had the whole table in stitches, and Chi Zhao was laughing the hardest. Back in their student days, Chen Kaiji had always been the aloof, cool type, dressed head-to-toe in trendy brands. Anyone who saw him would say he had the temper of a young master. But ever since he got together with Zhou Ruoyao, this young master gradually reformed, and now he’s become a completely domesticated, loyal golden retriever.

This is probably the power of love, Chi Zhao thought with a laugh amidst the clinking glasses. He also felt that love was a truly mysterious thing, both for Chen Kaiji and for himself. If you had told him, before his internship, that he would later love someone so intensely, to the point of giving his all, he would never have believed it.

Love is far too mysterious. It spans gender and age, disregards personality and pasts. Initially, Chi Zhao had been worried that some people might not accept his relationship with Fu Nan’an, and he had been holding his breath, waiting for a reaction. Yet, throughout the entire gathering, no one brought it up.

Then again, everyone knew it would be useless to mention it. How could the two of them, having weathered so many storms together over the years, be shaken by someone else’s words? Life is lived by oneself; its sweetness, sourness, bitterness, and warmth are known only to those involved. Moreover, Chi Zhao curing Fu Nan’an’s eyes had already made them a model couple in their circle. Everyone genuinely thought they were amazing, and perfectly matched.

Many of the classmates at the table hadn’t seen each other for five years, but upon meeting again, they still felt a familiar closeness. Everyone chatted about the past and the future, and as they talked, they became versions of each other from their memories once more.

Those most beautiful days of their youth, sealed away in memory, still seemed to sparkle when recalled. Even on the way back after the gathering ended, Chi Zhao’s eyes were still bright and shiny. He had had a bit to drink too, and his face was slightly flushed. He chatted to Fu Nan’an about their internship days back then.

He talked about the internship, and also about later: going abroad, returning to China, treating his eyes. They had far too many memories, sweet, bitter, sour, astringent. As Chi Zhao spoke, Fu Nan’an listened. Perhaps those memories were just too beautiful, for as Chi Zhao was talking, fireworks suddenly burst into the sky behind them, perfectly setting the mood.

One bloom, then another.

The brilliant fireworks exploded in the air, and Chi Zhao’s attention was instantly captured. He pulled Fu Nan’an to the side of the road to watch. Fu Nan’an followed him, but he didn’t look up. Instead, he turned his head and gazed quietly at Chi Zhao. Ever since he regained his sight, Fu Nan’an loved to look at Chi Zhao like this, as if he could never get enough, as if trying to make up for all the missed years.

Fu Nan’an’s emotions weren’t as outwardly expressive as Chi Zhao’s. While Chi Zhao reminisced about the past, he simply listened quietly. But he cherished all those memories just the same, as they were a radiant part of his own memory.

“Professor, look, fireworks!” Chi Zhao soon noticed Fu Nan’an looking at him. Knowing how hard-won Fu Nan’an’s ability to see again was, whenever Chi Zhao encountered something beautiful, he always wanted to present it to Fu Nan’an like a treasure, wanting him to see it.

He tugged at Fu Nan’an’s sleeve, urging him to look up. “Quick, look! Look! If you don’t, you’ll miss it!”

The fireworks were indeed beautiful, but they also seemed not beautiful enough. The dazzling light fell on Chi Zhao’s face, brightening and dimming. Fu Nan’an suddenly let out a soft laugh.

“I won’t miss it,” Fu Nan’an said, his gaze still fixed on Chi Zhao’s profile. His tone was very gentle as he said, “The most beautiful scenery is already right before my eyes.”

— End of Main Text —