Seventeen-year-old Song Zhou fell from the third floor and broke one of his hands.
He didn't die. On the hospital rooftop, he met Cheng Yanbai who had skipped school.
Cheng Yanbai handed him a box of milk and said, "I'm not here to persuade you, I'm here to accompany you."
Song Zhou's father is a well-known entrepreneur and philanthropist in Bincheng, and has donated to three Hope Primary Schools. No one knew that behind closed doors, he spent eleven years using cigarette butts, belts and fists to beat a child into ruins from head to toe.
Song Zhou's left hand was permanently damaged and could no longer play the complete Chopin. His wrists were covered in scars, new ones stacked on top of the old ones. He had nightmares every night about the door that couldn't be locked.
Cheng Yanbai gave him half of his fifteen-square-meter rental house. He went out early and came back late every day, working three jobs, buying milk, paying rent, holding Song Zhou's hand when he was shaking, and saying over and over again: "I am here. He is not here. You are safe."
They practiced in a cramped room, playing Debussy's "Moonlight" on a broken electric piano. Song Zhou couldn't use his left hand, so he used his right hand to teach Yan Bai how to play the C chord. That monotonous, dry chord was the loudest "I love you" between them.
The night when Song Boyuan came to visit, Cheng Yanbai stood in front of Song Zhou and was punched. Half of his face was covered with blood from his nose, and he didn't take a step back.
That night, Song Zhou said "I won't go back" for the first time.
He said he was tired. From the age of six to seventeen, he was tired for eleven years.
One sunny day, Song Zhou quietly closed his eyes after playing Debussy's "Moonlight". His heart was too tired and didn't want to beat anymore.
He left a note to Cheng Yanbai: Thank you for letting me live for three more years. These three years have been sunshine, milk, C chords, and you. I don't regret it. You are not allowed to regret it either.
Cheng Yanbai engraved Song Zhou's name on his wrist and put the notes under his pillow. Every night, late at night, he would press a C chord in the air.
There is no sound.
But he heard it.
Someone was answering him far away with an old piano——
I'm here.
Intention: Those who are destroyed use their last strength to love, and those who are left behind live with that warmth. There are no miracles in the darkness, but there are knocks.