His Present

    “What’s the date today?”

       He asked me, and I was stunned for a moment. I quickly looked up at the calendar and replied, “The seventh day of the first lunar month.”

       He didn’t say anything and I added in a lighter tone, “Three more days until February 14, Valentine’s Day.”

       With a gloomy expression, he got up heavily and went back to the house, as if what he was about to spend was not Valentine’s Day, but Qingming Festival1.

       So the smile on my face slowly faded.

       Perhaps for him, it was indeed the Qingming Festival.

       I was actually glad that he was willing to talk to me today. Although he and I lived in the same house, he treated me as if I were a piece of talking furniture—he rarely even looked at me.

       We met regularly, but it was sad to see how far our relationship had become.

       I could probably guess why he suddenly asked me this question.

       Because in a few days, it would be my first year living with him, and the first year his lover has disappeared.

       I wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with him too.

       But I, for one, couldn’t say it.

       Within the first month of my return, he found out once and for all that I was not his lover.

       Maybe he thought I just had amnesia before? However, perhaps because the gap between me and that person before was so big, he finally couldn’t hold back and said directly, “You’re not Ze’an, aren’t you?”

       I wanted to say that I was Ze’an, I always had been. But when I met his sure, suspicious, and slightly questioning gaze, I realised which Ze’an he was talking about.

       But I really was Ze’an. My mouth opened and closed, hesitating and not knowing how to respond to him.

       He said, “You like spicy food, but Ze’an can’t touch any spicy food. You like to play games, Ze’an never plays games. You only know how to code and program, Ze’an can draw and sing, but you are tone deaf…”

       He paused slightly, “On top of that, Ze’an is left-handed and you’re not.”

       “Your handwriting is completely different.”

       I was stunned when I heard it. I didn’t expect that in just one month, he had figured out all the details.

       He said again, “Who are you? Where is Ze’an?”

       I calmed my breathing, met his eyes and smiled, “Ji Qin, I really am Ze’an.”

       I swore I wasn’t lying.

       He frowned and was about to speak when I said, “But it’s true that the Ze’an you spoke of is no longer here.”

       “—he’s gone.”

       I made a gesture that he had departed from my head and said with a smile.

       His expression went blank for a moment as if all the light in his life had been taken from him by me. I pursed my lips and slowly withdrew my smile.

       It was hard to come back, but I didn’t seem to be welcomed.