Lend Me Your Shoulder - Chapter 13

Chapter 13

“You’re quite brave, too.”

After Xiang Wei got home, she heard Xu Yeyu sitting on the sofa talking about how today’s class had “progressed,” tearing open a bag of chips as she spoke.

With a quick “crack,” the puffed snack bag was ripped open, and Xu Yeyu’s eyes sharp and hands quick, she reached in and grabbed a chip.

Xiang Wei admired her skill and said in awe: “…”

Xu Yeyu chewed with her cheeks puffed out like a hamster—somehow adorably earnest.

“It wasn’t that big, I just glanced at the hand.”

“Just glanced at the hand? Just glanced?” Xiang Wei squinted, “You didn’t, you know. Your expression wasn’t just a simple glance.”

“…”

“It’s that kind of look you get when you’ve never eaten meat your whole life—like a starving tiger ready to pounce, eyes glowing green.”

Xu Yeyu thought for a moment: “Isn’t it usually wolves that have green glowing eyes?”

“…”

Xiang Wei: “That doesn’t matter!”

Xu Yeyu nodded: “Okay, not important.”

After a while, Xiang Wei grit her teeth and asked, “It felt good, right?”

Xu Yeyu was caught off guard: “Felt good? What felt good?”

“Being alone with the ridiculously handsome professor in his office, with so many people coveting him, but he’s only tutoring you, and you have two whole hours just for yourself,” Xiang Wei clicked her tongue, “That atmosphere—just a man and a woman alone in the office, such a sacred and solemn place—doing that kind of thing…”

Xu Yeyu got more and more suspicious: “I’m a shy, soft girl, so yeah, it was a bit embarrassing, but what ‘that kind of thing’ are you talking about? You’re making it sound like we desecrated the office.”

Xiang Wei: ???

“What did you say?”

Xu Yeyu paused, then repeated: “What ‘that kind of thing’?”

“No, the previous sentence.”

“Although I, this shy soft girl, am a bit easily embarrassed…”

Xiang Wei: “Ugh—”

“…”

Fortunately, Xu Yeyu’s luck held out. Not long after, Shen Tong came by with her assistant and brought Xu Yeyu’s camera and books.

Later, Xu Yeyu sent her a message, and Shen Tong kindly wrote a blessing and signed it on the book’s title page.

Shen Tong’s mirrorless camera had barely been used—almost brand new—and some settings were already adjusted, making it super convenient.

Choosing a day, Xu Yeyu took the book and camera and went to the orphanage again.

In the innermost room, the boy was still sitting on the bed, drawing.

The boy’s name was Yuan Yi. Compared to the last time Xu Yeyu saw him, he looked even thinner, with slightly hollow cheeks and furrowed brows. All his emotions were hidden beneath long eyelashes, and the only sound in the room was the brush scratching on paper.

Scratch scratch, scratch scratch.

“Has he been eating properly recently?” Xu Yeyu asked the director.

“He’s been monitored at meals, hasn’t missed any,” the director sighed, “You can tell he’s trying to eat, but he really has no appetite. We don’t want to force him, so we just step back.”

Though he ate three meals a day, he didn’t eat much.

Xu Yeyu understood well that low mood directly affects body and appetite.

When she first came, no one knew Xu Yeyu’s profession, but after she came more times and the director learned she was a writer, they got very excited and even asked her to come often and bring some literary atmosphere to the children.

Looking at the canvases and artworks posted around the room, after a moment, Xu Yeyu said quietly, “He really draws very well.”

The director followed her gaze and nodded in agreement, “Yes, and the little poems next to the drawings are very good too.”

She smiled and continued, “We’re amateurs, so we just enjoy the spectacle. You’re a writer, a professional, so you can tell the real deal, right?”

Xiang Wei tilted her head: “His poems are very good. Even without the professional perspective, they’re just good.”

Xu Yeyu had heard Lu Yanbai mention before that kids with depression often have one outstanding talent, because they see the world differently and feel things differently. Many artists actually suffer from hidden illnesses.

Later, a host once said in an interview—those with depression are basically geniuses.

That comment received a round of applause.

Leaving the quiet room, Xu Yeyu and the director turned to other floors.

Through this time getting to know them, she gradually understood some basics and got shallow exposure to the illness called depression.

Because of individual differences, each person’s symptoms vary. Some can maintain outward happiness, joking and laughing in daily life, while others are crushed under the mountain of despair, unable to work or study.

Some look normal but collapse emotionally when triggered; others remain long-term low mood, unwilling to communicate, trapped in their own world wrestling with themselves.

When they went to other children’s rooms, Xu Yeyu casually asked, “Has anyone tried to understand why he is depressed?”

“The reasons are mostly similar,” the director said, “You know, most kids here are orphans, and since it’s a psychological illness, it’s hard to separate from their childhood environment and personal psychology. He doesn’t want to talk, and we don’t want to probe too deeply—just guessing.”

Xu Yeyu sighed with some regret.

“Society is more tolerant now than before, but still not very much. Many parents who adopt kids avoid these kinds…” The director paused, “Maybe they’re born for a different mission.”

Walking a few steps on the wooden floor, Xu Yeyu gave herself a smile of encouragement: “There will be a way to solve it.”

The director was stunned for a moment: “What?”

“There’s always a way to overcome depression,” she smiled brightly, “They will have better lives.”

The director looked at her, not knowing why, but in that instant, her eyes shone with certainty.

Still moved, she smiled: “They will.”

When they reached the small rooftop on the third floor, Xu Yeyu heard playful noises from inside.

The director opened the door: “Awu, look what Xu Jie brought for you.”

Xu Yeyu shook the camera and book at the little girl sitting in the corner, staring blankly.

Awu, like Yuan Yi, was someone Xu Yeyu noticed on her first visit.

The girl was very pale and obedient, but didn’t like to talk or show interest—always sitting alone zoning out.

Depression often begins with “life feels meaningless,” and the director feared Awu would follow Yuan Yi’s path, so they arranged for her to play with other kids. Seeing her listless, they tried various ways to cheer her up.

When the director said Awu showed some interest in photography, and knowing Shen Tong worked in that field, Xu Yeyu immediately asked Shen Tong for equipment to help Awu develop a hobby.

Xu Yeyu approached Awu and put the open book with the inscription on her lap.

“Look, there’s a photographer sister who’s really good, and she wrote a little note for you.”

By the time Xu Yeyu left, it was already six in the evening. Xiang Wei was waiting, starving.

“Where did you go?”

Xu Yeyu poured herself some water: “The orphanage. Where else? I can’t go on a date with Lu Yanbai.”

“Wake up, will you?” Xiang Wei reminded her of her duties and gave a little scolding.

After a while, she asked, “Did you bring the camera over?”

Xu Yeyu was surprised: “How do you know?”

“I know you too well. The two things you’ve cared about most lately are tutoring and the orphanage. Professor Lu wouldn’t care about the latter, so it must be the orphanage,” Xiang Wei hugged her knees, “Who did you give it to? That gloomy little handsome boy we saw last time?”

“No, another girl.”

“Why do you run to the orphanage so often?”

“I’m researching,” Xu Yeyu seemed to want to say more, but then shook her head, “Never mind, you wouldn’t understand with your IQ. You can just come with me to save a seat or something.”

“…”

That evening there was a self-study class with Lu Yanbai. Because Xiang Wei had joined the seat reservation group, this time the boys helped pick a good spot for the two of them.

There seemed to be some event today; the school corridors were decorated beautifully.

As soon as they entered the classroom, Xu Yeyu felt the restless energy but didn’t know why.

This time, Lu Yanbai’s lecture was faster, finishing the content twenty minutes early. Just as he was about to start the next chapter, a boy suddenly shouted.

“Professor! Today is L University’s anniversary! Why don’t we have some celebration activities?”

“Today is the anniversary?” Xu Yeyu rested her head on her arm, “No wonder it was all decorated outside. I thought it was a holiday.”

Xiang Wei: “Looks like we’re late. If we came earlier, maybe we could’ve caught the party.”

Xiang Wei had just said a few words when Xu Yeyu’s thoughts completely drifted away, raising her fist and looking at the teacher: “We must celebrate!”

“…”

The man on stage paused, raising his eyebrow faintly: “…Early dismissal?”

“No way!”

“The school said no early dismissal! Teacher, let’s play a game!”

“Yeah! Play a game! We’ve never played games before!”

Soon, everyone spontaneously shouted: “Game! Game! Game!”

Xiang Wei said in the noisy room: “You can tell they really like Professor Lu. They’re choosing games over early dismissal.”

Xu Yeyu raised an eyebrow, bit her lip, and gave Xiang Wei a look: “Who wouldn’t want to play games with Professor Lu?”

“…”

Xiang Wei looked at her suspicious expression: “Are we even talking about the same game, Xu Yeyu???”

Xu Yeyu smiled awkwardly: “Maybe not.”

…

During a pause in their talk, Lu Yanbai on the podium finally couldn’t resist the intense “game pressure” and nodded, one hand resting on the stage edge: “What game do you want to play?”

The class monitor in the first row stood up first and discussed with his rowmates. They decided to play “Lip Reading and Guessing Words.”

The monitor stood on stage and organized: “Anyone want to play?”

As soon as he spoke, many girls raised their hands. At that moment, the relatively quiet classroom was pierced by a creaking sound.

Everyone slowly turned around—

A rosy-lipped, white-toothed girl stood up without hesitation, like a vine suddenly climbing higher than all the new shoots.

Unexpectedly, it was Xu Yeyu raising her hand: “…”

Xiang Wei: “Can we be a little more reserved??”

“I thought standing up meant you’re volunteering,” Xu Yeyu gave a polite smile, “Does this make me look too proactive?”

“You should know better.” Xiang Wei curled her lips.

“That… the girl standing,” the monitor scratched his head, guessing she might be a pretty girl from another class, “What advantage do you think you have to be chosen?”

“Advantage?”

Xu Yeyu fell silent after asking this.

Many people quietly glanced back at her.

After a few minutes, she coughed: “Sorry, there are too many. I don’t know which to start with.”

Xiang Wei: ????

The air was silent for a few seconds, then burst into laughter.

“Impressive!”

“I can’t compete. Really can’t. Let her go.”

Xu Yeyu stood up from her seat. Someone started playing music, making the scene feel a bit like a Miss Hong Kong pageant crowning.

She almost had to stand on stage with formal hand gestures saying, “Thank you all for your love and support. I will keep working hard.”

The pageant ended—not really—and the monitor kept choosing several more to come up.

Somehow, the crowd started chanting: “Professor Lu! Professor Lu! Professor Lu!”

Xu Yeyu suddenly snapped back and quietly whispered to Lu Yanbai, “Professor, you should play too.”

Before he could say no, Xu Yeyu saw his lips forming words and quickly interrupted:

“If you say no, I’ll… I’ll…!”

Lu Yanbai leisurely waited to see how she’d “threaten” him:

“And what will you do?”

She lowered her eyelids, wrinkling her cute little nose.

“…I’ll beg you.”

“…”

Finally, as the calls got louder and louder, Lu Yanbai, fearing the excited “spectators” would disturb other classes, reluctantly agreed.

The rules of the game were: The judge picks a word, only the speaker knows it, and the speaker can only lip-read silently to teammates, who must guess the word within the time limit.

Two people each team, a team can have multiple rounds, the first to get five points wins.

Xu Yeyu was on the “Red Team.”

They lost the first round.

The second round, she thought it over and successfully led the team to victory.

From then on, she kept scoring points.

Later, she realized the kids loved this game because of the excitement of reading lips and the competition—plus the chance to see their favorite professor’s serious and funny expressions.

After the game, Xiang Wei whispered: “Not bad, you’re pretty good at this.”

Xu Yeyu smiled.

The lesson ended with everyone leaving happily.