Chapter 24 Stress Response, Rolling Chestnuts…

From the moment the truck’s headlights swept over him, forcing Shen Zhi to squint uncontrollably, his consciousness began to detach along with the white light. Then, two loud collision sounds denied him any chance to struggle, causing memories from the past to flash uncontrollably through his mind.

It was June 7, 2012.

After finishing the morning exam, Uncle-Grandfather Ke who came to pick him up looked extremely anxious.

Xiao Chuan, your grandma is missing!

He urgently asked, What do you mean missing? Wasn’t Grandma at home?

Uncle-Grandfather Ke was sweating profusely: She knew you were taking the college entrance exam, so she boiled water at home to bring to you. But she never came back after so long! I got worried and went back to check – she’s nowhere to be found!

What about Chengzong? Wasn’t he with Grandma?

He’s already out looking for her!

Shen Zhi watched his younger self filled with anxiety, his consciousness drifting while being infected by past emotions.

He watched himself say: I’ll go look too. The math exam doesn’t start until 3 PM, I have time.

So he and Uncle-Grandfather Ke split up to search.

He returned to Wukou Street and searched the area, asked Uncle Zhou and others to keep an eye out, and even went to check the surveillance cameras – but there were few cameras in Wukou Street area and they were outdated. They only managed to capture Ke Chaolan’s back as she walked toward the highway carrying a water cup.

Under the early summer sun, he walked along the highway, calling out for her as he went.

After walking for a long time, he finally found her at the intersection between Wukou Street and another district.

Ke Chaolan was waiting at the crosswalk, preparing to cross the road.

Without thinking, he shouted Grandma! and rushed toward her.

But Ke Chaolan showed no reaction at all. She looked around and, amidst the flowing traffic, actually attempted to cross the highway directly!

Carrying the water cup, her steps were urgent.

Unexpectedly, a small truck happened to emerge at that moment. As the horn sounded, Ke Chaolan froze in place. His heart stopped, he roared Watch out! and threw himself forward, pushing the old woman to the roadside.

He himself was grazed by the small truck and thrown to the ground.

This wouldn’t have been too serious – luckily, it was just scrapes and bleeding. But there were too many cars coming and going at that time. As he rolled on the ground, a car slammed its brakes but couldn’t stop in time, running over his right forearm.

The pain from the comminuted fracture paled in comparison to the despair he felt in that moment.

Lying bloodied on the ground, for a moment he couldn’t even feel his arm’s existence.

The heat from the road surface steamed with the smell of blood. He heard people gathering around in panic, their chaotic discussions:

His exam admission ticket flew out! Poor thing! He’s a college entrance exam student!

Tried to save someone and ended up like this…

Heaven… his arm, so terrifying, is it broken?

Call the police! Call an ambulance! Oh god, young man, are you okay? Are you alright?

Xiao Chuan! Xiao Chuan!

The old woman rushed to him in panic, trembling as she wiped the blood from his face, body, and hands.

She cried nearly to the point of collapse.

Xiao Chuan—! Grandma was bringing you water! Xiao Chuan, Grandma failed you—

Her hands were covered in his blood, and when she wiped her tears, she smeared it all over her face.

He wanted to comfort her, but the corners of his mouth twitched before he weakly gave up.

In the scorching summer heat, he felt cold.

He lay curled up on the ground, his vision beginning to blur with double images.

Yet his mangled, bloody arm remained starkly clear. In that moment, unprecedented terror seized him.

He remembered the first time he had felt such fear—when his family abandoned him as a child. But now, it felt as though the dream he had pursued for over a decade was also abandoning him.

A continuous ringing started in his ears, and the faces of the people surrounding him appeared as overlapping shadows.

His eyes shifted, gazing at the sun in the sky.

The sun split into two or three copies. Gradually, only the sun remained bright in his vision, everything else fading into dimness. Then, even the sunlight weakened, shrinking into a tiny white dot in an expanse of darkness.

Finally, the small white dot vanished too. Amid the wailing siren of an ambulance, his world plunged into utter darkness.

His consciousness kept falling, falling.

Brother Shen?

Brother Shen?

A gentle, soft young voice called out to him in low tones.

Don’t be afraid, Brother Shen. It’s alright.

Are you cold? My hands are warm—can you feel them?

He couldn’t feel a thing.

His mind was muddled, so hazy he could barely distinguish who was calling him.

Brother Shen, it’s okay. It’s over now. We’re no longer by the roadside. You’re safe.

I’m right in front of you. Just lift your eyes and you’ll see me.

For as long as his consciousness drowned in flashbacks of memories, that voice called out to him—over and over, without a hint of impatience.

The darkness before Shen Zhi’s eyes gradually receded like dissolving pixels. His eyelashes fluttered, and he uttered a single word:

Cold…

Seeing him finally respond, Shen Jichuan quickly asked, Cold? Brother Shen, are you very cold?

Hand. Right hand.

Shen Jichuan lowered his head and slipped his own hand into the right sleeve of Shen Zhi’s jacket. Only then did he realize that Shen Zhi’s right hand, which he had kept stubbornly tucked inside the sleeve, was convulsing.

The five fingers were terrifyingly stiff, cold as ice.

Shen Zhi was now seated on a bench by the lake. Besides Shen Jichuan, a doctor in a white coat—who had arrived with the ambulance and been asked by Shen Jichuan to check on him—stood nearby.

From your description, it sounds like a trauma stress response to the car accident. It’s best not to move him. Avoid letting him near vehicles, and have someone familiar stay with him, calling his name.

That’s why they were here instead of taking an ambulance to the hospital.

The doctor asked, Was the injury to his hand from the car accident?

Shen Jichuan replied, Yes.

Glancing at the ambulance about to depart from the roadside, the doctor said succinctly, Gently massage his hand. Now that he’s responding, he should be fine soon. I have to go. If there are further stress responses, I recommend going to the hospital without delay.

Shen Jichuan said, Alright, thank you.

Don’t mention it.

The doctor hurried off and barely made it onto the ambulance in time.

Shen Jichuan crouched in front of Shen Zhi, slowly rolling up the right sleeve of his down jacket. He breathed warm air into his palms and then pressed them against Shen Zhi’s convulsing arm.

Soon, he realized this wasn’t providing enough warmth. After looking around, he spotted an elderly man strolling with a thermos cup and borrowed it. Using two layers of tissue paper for insulation, he placed the warm cup beneath Shen Zhi’s arm.

With a steady source of heat, he could now gradually soothe the cramped muscles in Shen Zhi’s arm.

The elderly man who had lent them the water cup stood nearby with his hands behind his back, watching for a long while before suddenly sighing. How devoted you are, standing by your wife through thick and thin. Is this your wife? When did she become… simple-minded?

Shen Jichuan: ……

He nearly choked.

This is my… uh, my brother. He’s not simple-minded, he’s having a stress response.

The kind of brother you’ve just acknowledged.

Eh? A boy? Why does a boy have long hair? The old man didn’t understand what a stress response meant, squinting his presbyopic eyes. Wearing a mask, looks like a girl.

He muttered something about ‘poor thing being simple-minded’ before instructing, Return the cup when you’re done, I’m going to watch over there, then walked away with his hands behind his back.

Shen Jichuan let out a soft sigh.

Looking down, he used his warm, dry fingertips to gently straighten the cramped fingers.

Did you hear that, Brother Shen? That old man was teasing you.

I know you can hear me. You had a reaction earlier, you said it hurt. It’s good that you speak up when it hurts! Really great! Anywhere else uncomfortable? You have to tell me, understand? I can’t help you if you don’t say anything.

He chattered on for a long time.

Shen Zhi’s awareness of his surroundings gradually returned.

His right hand was no longer cold and stiff, but warmed to the point of feeling hot.

He stared at Shen Jichuan’s face and said, …Treating me like a child, you silly fool. When did you develop kindergarten teacher skills?

His voice was hoarse and very soft.

Shen Jichuan’s head snapped up: Brother Shen.

Earlier, when he turned and saw how pale and trembling the person before him had become, he’d been instantly stunned.

PTSD – that’s what immediately came to mind.

Brother Shen had never told him about having trauma stress disorder. When mentioning the car accident he’d been in before, it was always just a couple casual sentences.

He never expected Brother Shen’s stress response to be this severe – just from turning his head, the man’s consciousness had scattered, leaving behind only an empty shell.

Since it started, Shen Jichuan had been watching him like this, his nerves constantly tense.

Not the kind of tension and worry you’d have for a friend or brother.

But something emerging from much deeper, much deeper within – like the panicked emptiness when quicksand slips through your palms.

Shen Zhi smiled: I’m much better now.

Shen Jichuan: Really much better?

Shen Zhi stared at his lips, deciphering for a moment before saying: Much better. Actually, it was never serious to begin with, but thank you anyway.

He withdrew his hand from Shen Jichuan’s grasp, then rolled down the right sleeve of his down jacket.

But his left hand somehow lacked strength – it would tremble whenever he exerted force.

Let me help you.

No need.

Shen Zhi avoided his touch, controlling the trembling as he successfully lowered the sleeve. A fine layer of cold sweat covered his forehead. He lifted his right hand to show Shen Jichuan and smiled at him.

See? I’m not useless enough to need help with this.

Shen Jichuan felt Shen Zhi’s condition wasn’t normal, and his attitude toward him had subtly changed.

But he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was wrong.

He thought Brother Shen might not have fully recovered yet. Then I’ll return the cup to the old man first. Let me take you home.

Shen Zhi watched his lips and gave a delayed Mm of agreement.

Shen Jichuan went to return the water cup. Shen Zhi sat motionless on the bench for a moment before standing up – first staggering, then steadying himself.

In his memory, during the winter break when he was eighteen, he hadn’t gone out to watch the fireworks display because of family pressures—he had been working to earn money that day.

It was only when the car accident happened earlier that he recalled this incident. Though no one had died in that accident and people only briefly mentioned it, he hadn’t paid it much mind.

Shen Zhi knew this was merely a coincidence.

Yet a morbid anxiety stirred within him. He couldn’t help but imagine the worst-case scenarios, repeatedly asking himself: Why did this coincidence happen right before his eyes? Why was Shen Jichuan by his side when the accident occurred?

Was fate subtly hinting at something?

Hinting that even though he had returned and started preparing early to handle future events, he still couldn’t change what was to come.

Shen Zhi walked to the edge of the lake. The water was pitch black, only reflecting the vague outline of his face.

But even from just the outline, he could imagine how unpleasant his stress response must have looked earlier.

In truth, even now, he didn’t seem to have fully recovered. His anxious emotions felt separated by an intangible barrier—his ears were filled with chaos, yet his heart felt hollow.

Shen Zhi removed his mask, wanting to lean closer to check if his facial expression still showed any signs of distress. He needed to fix it before Shen Jichuan returned.

But after taking just two steps toward the water’s edge, his wrist was abruptly grabbed and pulled backward.

Shen Zhi froze and turned around.

He saw Shen Jichuan breathing rapidly, gripping his hand tightly while staring at him with alarmed uncertainty: Brother Shen? Why were you walking toward the water?

Shen Zhi: What did you say?

Shen Jichuan stared at his indifferent face, his heart pounding uncontrollably: Why were you walking toward the water?

Only then did Shen Zhi reply: Oh, I wanted to stretch a bit. My body feels somewhat stiff.

Shen Jichuan watched him for a long while before his rapid breathing gradually steadied. Without letting go, he pulled Shen Zhi away from the edge, I see. Let’s talk over here then. There’s no railing, and if your body’s stiff, you might fall in.

He led Shen Zhi back to the bench, but Shen Zhi refused to sit down.

Take me home, Xiao Chuan.

Shen Jichuan glanced at the road: There are still cars now. Let’s wait until there are fewer before we go.

Shen Zhi: I want to go back. It’s too noisy here.

Shen Jichuan: Noisy?

He looked around.

There were few pedestrians—those who had gathered around the accident scene earlier had all dispersed. Only a few people strolling nearby remained, with occasional laughter and conversation.

It couldn’t really be considered noisy.

Shen Jichuan assumed it was the sound of wind and flowing water that bothered him, I’ll take you through the side path. There are no large vehicles there.

Shen Zhi: Alright.

Uncle Zhou’s small electric scooter once again proved its usefulness. Shen Jichuan carried Shen Zhi, moving at a snail’s pace all the way back to the rental apartment.

Throughout the journey, he repeatedly glanced back to ensure Shen Zhi wasn’t experiencing another stress response.

Fortunately, Shen Zhi remained quiet and appeared emotionally stable all the way to the building entrance. He even smiled and greeted Uncle Zhou, thanking him for lending the scooter.

Then Shen Jichuan followed him upstairs.

Shen Zhi opened the door but stopped the young man who wanted to enter with him.

Standing in the doorway, he said: Xiao Chuan, you should go back. I’m tired.

Shen Jichuan hesitated: Brother Shen… will you be okay? You still don’t look well. Maybe I should stay with you tonight.

Shen Zhi smiled. No need. Do I look like anything’s wrong? School starts tomorrow, so focus on your studies.

Shen Jichuan: Brother Shen.

Shen Zhi: By the way, I might go paint at another rental place for the next few days. You might not be able to reach me, which is normal. If anything comes up, just send a message. I’ll reply when I finish painting.

Xiao Chuan, this accident actually gave me Inspiration. You know artists sometimes get Inspiration from strange sources. Be good and don’t interrupt my work.

Shen Jichuan had no choice but to say, Then rest well, Brother Shen. And don’t forget to eat while painting…

Okay.

Shen Zhi closed the door.

The motion-sensor light flickered on and off, brightening again with the young man’s cough, repeating several times.

Shen Jichuan lingered hesitantly at the doorway for a while before touching the red bead on the black cord around his left wrist. Reassured that they had formally become sworn brothers—not merely employer and employee with no other connection—he finally steadied himself.

When Brother Shen has time, he’ll come check on him.

Descending the stairs, he greeted Uncle Zhou and prepared to walk home. But after just a few steps, he stepped on something round and hard under his shoe.

Moving his foot aside, he looked down.

It was a dried, cold chestnut that had somehow rolled to this spot.

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