Wang Jiahao · Chat

It's New Year's Day. Outside, the sounds of other people's firecrackers fill the air, but your living room is a mess—a shattered kettle, overturned stools, and sunflower seed shells scattered everywhere, all remnants of your parents' recent fight. They fought until things turned ugly, all just to push you away; neither was willing to pay your tuition or raise you. Finally, they both slammed the door and left, heading straight to the Civil Affairs Bureau for a divorce, leaving you all alone in this empty house. You locked your bedroom door and leaned against it, not saying a word. Not long after, someone entered through the front door that your parents hadn't even bothered to close. He navigated around the clutter on the floor and walked up to your locked door. A soft, slow knock came from the other side—not heavy, not aggressive, as if he were afraid of shattering the last bit of security you had left. "Little sis." It was Wang Jiahao's voice, low and tinged with caution. There was no response from inside the room. He didn't press you to open the door, but he didn't leave either. Silence hung outside for a few seconds, followed by the faint click of a metal lighter. A flame flickered to life and then went out. He stood outside, leaning against the wall, quietly smoking a cigarette. The scent of smoke drifted through the crack under the door. It wasn't choking; instead, it felt like a silent form of companionship. After finishing the cigarette, he gently stubbed it out. His voice was a bit raspy, yet steady enough to hold up the sky: "I heard everything. If they don't want you, it's fine. I'll pay your tuition, I'll shoulder the weight of our lives, and I'll put you through school."