Chapter 68: Longing to Hear Your Voice
At the very beginning of her seventeenth year, Lin Xi was plunged into a nightmare—one that would haunt her for a long time to come.
She remembered that day vividly; it was still summer in Lingshi. Because she had grown too reliant on sleeping pills, her grandmother, worried for her, tried to stop the medication for a day. Whether it was her mind playing tricks or not, she truly couldn’t sleep without them that night.
She had clearly shut the windows before going to bed, and without her hearing aids, yet the cicadas outside still buzzed so loudly it made her eardrums ache. The air conditioning was on, but she felt feverish, as if hundreds of tiny insects were gnawing at her bones, making her toss and turn, restless and agitated.
She didn’t dare turn on the light, afraid her grandparents would notice from the crack under the door and worry.
She kept her eyes open until two in the morning, unable to sleep, and finally reached under her pillow for her phone. She tried to watch some dull, lengthy documentaries and TV dramas, but after an hour, she was still wide awake.
She opened WeChat, wanting to send a message to her brother, but remembering he couldn’t reply, she gave up. Bored, she scrolled down and paused at Cheng Si’s chat window, then continued, her finger lingering on another familiar conversation.
This time, she hesitated for longer, her heart wavering between decisions. In the end, reason lost out—what emotion drove her she couldn’t say—but she tapped into her chat with Qin Yu.
The last messages were still visible; he had said he was away that weekend and couldn’t make it back, but promised to pick her up from school on Monday and bring her some famous local pastries.
She had replied obediently, and he had told her to rest early. The conversation ended there.
She took a deep breath, typing and deleting a simple sentence countless times before finally sending it: “Third Brother, when are you coming back to the capital tomorrow?”
She didn’t expect an immediate reply, but she planned to wait for him as long as it took.
After all, it was clear she wouldn’t sleep that night; she had plenty of time.
She remembered it clearly; she had exited WeChat to study a few vocabulary words when a new message notification popped up at the top of the screen.
It had only been two minutes since she sent her message.
It was 3:10 in the morning.
Third Brother: “I’ll land around noon tomorrow. Can’t sleep now?”
He didn’t ask her why she was still awake, nor did he lecture her.
She stared at his message for a long time before replying honestly.
“Did I wake you up?”
“One message isn’t enough to wake me. I haven’t slept yet.”
“Working?”
“Mm.”
Seeing that, she typed quickly, wanting to end the conversation so as not to bother him further.
But his response came even faster: “Is it convenient to talk on the phone?”
She was startled. “Is there something important you want to say?”
“No. I just want to hear your voice.”
“…” She sent an ellipsis. At that moment, nothing made her more nervous than when Qin Yu asked her to speak—even exams didn't make her so anxious.
Third Brother: “It’s been almost two days since we saw each other. Don’t you want to hear my voice?”
Her heart skipped a beat when that message appeared, then pounded hard in her chest.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure which letter to tap.
After a long pause, she replied, “Yes.”
One word. It took her five minutes.
Throughout, Qin Yu didn’t rush her, nor did he try to change the subject. He seemed to be waiting patiently for her answer.
Two seconds after her message sent: “Go put on your hearing aids.”
The moment she saw those words, she climbed out of bed almost on instinct, using her phone’s light to reach for her hearing aids on the nightstand.
She admitted she was a bit flustered then.
She fumbled with the hearing aids, unable to put them on properly, adjusting and readjusting nervously. Once she was ready, she didn’t dare return to bed, choosing instead to sit on the edge, waiting for his call.
Time ticked by, each second stretching out. She had never anticipated a phone call so much, even finding herself silently urging him to hurry up, over and over.
It was also the first time she realized just how impatient she could be.
Ashamed as she was, she still longed for him to call.
Fortunately, he didn’t keep her waiting long.
When the call finally came, she instinctively wanted to answer, but held back for a moment, worried she might seem too eager, before finally pressing accept.
She remembered—it was about eighteen seconds. She had been counting.
“Lin Xi, can you hear me clearly?”
His familiar voice, accompanied by a faint current of static, flowed into her ear, making her breath catch for no reason. She took a moment to steady herself before softly replying.
The phone was pressed tight against her ear; she could even hear his steady breathing.
“Long-term use of sleeping pills isn’t good. Your grandmother is right; next time, drink the calming tea she makes for you.”
“Mm.”
“I’ll buy the pastries in the morning and come back. I wanted to buy them yesterday when I passed by, but I was afraid they wouldn’t be fresh after a night. They last a long time, but I can’t be careless when they’re for my Lin Xi—you’re so picky.”
Back then, Qin Yu really talked a lot.
In the years she’d known him, he rarely spoke at length, especially about trivial matters like these.
It was only later that she realized it wasn’t that he had become more talkative, or liked to express himself more.
It was because he knew she didn’t like to talk, so he kept the conversation going, hoping she might respond.
“Did you go to your tutoring session today?”
“No.” She was sparing with her words; that year, their roles had suddenly shifted.
The one who spoke little and seemed cold had become her.
“You didn’t go out?”
“No.”
“Don’t you get bored at home?”
She still replied with one word.
Anyone unaware of the truth might think she didn’t want to continue the conversation.
But Qin Yu knew—even if she only repeated that single word, she was making a great effort to respond.
Because her voice trembled every time.
“Tomorrow night, let’s go out to eat. Remember to tell your grandmother in the morning.”
“All right.”
“Is there anything you especially want to eat?”
He knew how picky she was, and that during her illness she’d lost her appetite for even her favorite foods.
Perhaps it was too late, and he didn’t want her to feel pressured, so he didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, he gently added, “No rush—if you think of something during the day, send me a message.”
He asked her to reply by text.
“I… want… seafood…” she stammered.
Qin Yu was surprised by her sudden response. After a pause of two or three seconds, she heard his voice, tinged with laughter, answer gently, “All right, tomorrow we’ll go have seafood, just you and me.”
(End of chapter)