The pain was excruciating when it assaulted Sean's body. It seemed that a stretch of thorns pullulated in his bones, sucking his blood and nibbling his fresh with no quarter. Sean was good at enduring things, but he wanted to stab himself every time the pain started.

Sean carried the plant upstairs. The cold sweat soaked his forehead. He leaned against the wall, panting. The headache made him faint fitfully.

Sean's pills were poured in glass wishing bottles of different kinds. People could never think of such miserable illness when facing them. He was fond of delicate bottles and jars when he was a student. He had collected a lot till this time, however, they were used to hold pills.

He was too lazy to boil water, so he took the medicine with cold water. When he lay on the bed, he could hear the tumultuous sound in his abdomen. Sean lay on his side and curled up his body, with his chin almost against the knee. He had emaciated a lot.

Sean could remember clearly that it was the longest time William had been away from home, 19 days. Just 19 days, Sean did not know how he had got it through. He thought about the day he went to get a bone marrow puncture, waiting to be arranged to get tested and listening to the sobs and whine of other patients. He kept silent all the time, withuot a word, except asking the doctor: "can I stand up after finishing it? I want to go home. I'm afraid I can't."

Sean felt hopeless about his headache. His fingers curled up, like a drowning man endeavored to reach the driftwood, but he just couldn't. Desperate. Frowning, he got out of bed, opened the desk drawer in the small cubicle with his key, and carefully took out a book.

It was the prose of Zheng Jian, an old book. Sean held the book and snuggled up to the sofa, gently opening the first page. Gentle smile permeated his eyes slowly, except for fatigue.

The white title page in those days had become yellow in this day, but the handsome and proud writing had withstood the time. William's handwriting was very beautiful. He transcribed the words of Zheng Jian on it meticulously------

Everywhere you go is the end of the world to me, which I pine for but can never reach.

Fourteen years ago, the unabashed and impish tall boy gave him a book with a flush over his cheeks. His tone was stiff: "... ...I have heard people say that you like Zheng Jian, so I bought her book for you. I hope you like it, by the way......Like me too!"

Sean bit his lips with great strength, holding book tightly in his arms. He sank back into the sofa. A heavy layer blurred his eyes, not tears. his heart was like dead ashes.

William went home in the evening. The sound of the key turning the door iwas very clear.

Sean woke up at once and sat up slowly.

There was no light in the room, so William thought Sean must have fallen asleep. He did not expect that upon turning on the light, he just saw Sean looking at him with a pale face like a ghost.

William was scared, reprimanding him: " Why you don't sleep at night but frighten people like this !"

William was somewhat agitated when seeing Sean. There were some strange and complex feelings in his heart. These days, he and a boy from the college of fine arts got on like a house on fire. Last night he received Sean's call, and then he was a kind of guilty. He couldn't just have fun like before as there seemed to be something occupying his mind.

"I just woke up and didn't have time to turn on the light. You're not busy now?" Sean was not angry. He just put the book on the tea table.

William didn't give a look at the book at all. Throwing his coat on the sofa csually and tearing off the tie, he lied: "I have to take time to go home even if I'm busy. You haven't called me for days.", even not turning a hair.

"Have you lost weight?" His eyes focused on Sean's face then with his brows knit tightly: "You even don't know to take care of yourself as an adult? Don't you feel sick when looking at yourself in the mirror ?"

It seemed that a sharp knife ruthlessly stabbed Sean's heart, and then the pain sprawled around ceaselessly. Maybe, his pallor and emaciation were not worth mentioning. It just made him sick. So how could this face be more pleasing than his other boys and girls outside?

Sean smiled. How could he not want to take good care of himself? But life was never at his control. Was he supposed to apologize for his pallor or emaciation just because William said that he looked sick? Even the landlady of the wonton stall asked him with sympathy" Kid, do you lost weight out of your busy work?". Even a doctor accustomed to life and death persuaded him not to give up life. However, the man, who had been together with him for more than a decade, was just careless and impatient.

Sean knew that William's care and tenderness would not be used in the things that he was not interested in. So his bygone thoughtfulness and tenderness failed to weather the time and became utter indifference.

Sean could do nothing about it.