Mud beads

The next afternoon, Teacher Li visited again.

The weather was a bit warmer than the previous few days, and the afternoon sun reflected off the lake, casting a pale, quiet light through the wide French windows into the living room. Echizen Toru didn't go to the company; he stayed in his study after lunch. Hearing the sound of his training bag hitting the floor in the entryway, he looked up from his computer and glanced out through the half-open door.

Yu Zhu had already changed her shoes.

They were light-colored running shoes with flat soles, the laces tied in a double knot that wouldn't come undone. She wore a thin cashmere sweater, her boyish short hair neatly plastered to the back of her head, and held a fully extended white cane in her hand, standing quietly in the center of the entryway.

Teacher Li checked the length of the white cane and explained the fixed route she needed to familiarize herself with that day. The distance wasn't long, but there were several different changes in the ground, requiring her to re-feel and judge the terrain.

The front door was opened.

The moment the wind rushed in from outside the door, the heavy grayness in Yu Zhu's eyes seemed to be gently stirred.

She couldn't see the outline of the door, nor the courtyard outside, but in the originally boundless darkness, a thin ray of light slowly rose from somewhere on the right.

She instinctively turned her face toward the bright light.

My eyes quickly started to sting.

That glimmer of light couldn't tell her if there were any obstacles ahead, or even point her to where the door actually was.

It only provides vague proof that the sun is still there.

The world still exists.

Teacher Li didn't rush her, but simply stood beside her and asked, "Can you feel the light?"

Yu Zhu said, "It seems a bit brighter."

"Yes, the sun is shining brightly today."

Memories, following the word "sun," pieced together a fragment of her past world.

Spring has not yet truly arrived. The lawn is still tinged with the yellow of winter, the branches are just sprouting tender new buds, and the lake is crystal clear, reflected in the cloudless sky.

She quickly regained her composure, lowered her head, and extended her cane forward. The tip of the cane touched the threshold, making a very soft echo.

The threshold wasn't high; she wouldn't have even noticed it before. Now, however, it stood like a boundary marker, dividing the inside of the house into two completely different worlds.

Every inch of space needs to be reconfirmed.

Yu Zhu tentatively lifted her foot.

The sole of her shoe crossed the threshold, landing on the smooth wooden floor inside and then on the stone outside. The rough texture transmitted through the sole caused her body to stiffen abruptly, as if she had stepped into some endless emptiness.

She gripped her white cane tightly, her shoulders slightly raised.

Teacher Li comforted her, saying, "Just stand there for a while, there's no rush."

The wind blew against her face, blowing the stray hairs from Yu Zhu's forehead to one side. The shapeless light still hung on her right, sometimes clearer, sometimes sinking back into darkness. She gripped her cane, using the soles of her feet, her ears, and that faint, almost useless light to reconfirm where she was.

Behind the floor-to-ceiling window, Toru Echizen stared at her without moving.

Yu Zhu's shoulders and back were tense, her face turned towards the courtyard, clearly unable to see anything, yet she still stubbornly kept her head up.

She found even a single hurdle so difficult to overcome.

All her hardships seemed to point to the same thing.

She is learning to leave this house little by little.

Teacher Li stood to the side and in front of Yu Zhu, extending her arm behind her.

"I'll guide you from the front. Just put your hand on my arm, and feel free to stop if you feel uncomfortable."

Yu Zhu hesitated for a moment, then slowly reached out her hand.

Her fingertips touched the unfamiliar fabric, and she instinctively flinched. Teacher Li didn't urge her, remaining in her original position, waiting for her to make her own decision.

Yu Zhu quickly reached out again and gently grasped his upper arm.

Koshima Toru's fingers, which were hanging by his side, twitched.

He watched the young rehabilitation therapist walk ahead of Yu Zhu, and watched her follow closely behind him.

When she couldn't figure out the way, she was willing to listen to a man she had only met a few times to tell her where to stop and which direction to turn.

But she found it hard to accept him.

As Yu Zhu walked down the gentle slope in the courtyard, she didn't adjust her pace in time and suddenly leaned forward. Teacher Li reached out and supported her forearm, slowly letting go after she regained her balance.

A hint of unease flashed across Yu Zhu's face.

"Thanks."

She finished speaking in a low voice and gripped her white cane again.

Echizen's brow furrowed slightly.

It was just a simple thank you, and the gesture didn't cross any lines. Yet she didn't resist, wasn't angry, and showed no annoyance at being touched.

She even seemed a little embarrassed, bordering on shy.

That was a normal, everyday emotion that Echizen Toru hadn't seen on her face for a long time.

When Yu Zhu first walked to the center of the courtyard, she was already covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Teacher Li started by letting her try to figure out the way back herself.

Yu Zhu stood rooted to the spot, all the surrounding sounds surging up at once. The laughter of children, the chirping of birds, the sound of the wind in the neighborhood, and the low rumble of cars in the distance. She couldn't immediately separate them; she felt as if she were standing in a constantly flowing body of water, where any sound could come from ahead or bounce back from even further away.

The tip of the stick touched the edge of the lawn and sank into the soft soil.

When Teacher Li reminded her, she stopped, slowly retracted her cane, and began to search for the area of ​​the stone beneath her feet.

The second time, she walked to the wall.

When her palm touched the cold wall, she slowly moved forward along the wall until she finally touched the door frame.

Yu Zhu stopped there.

That faint glimmer of light had grown even dimmer, almost merging back into the grayness before her eyes. But she knew her hand was resting on the edge of the front door.

She came back.

Through the glass, Echizen saw the faint smile on Yu Zhu's face.

It wasn't exactly happiness, but it suddenly brought a bit of life to her face.

The sun slowly set behind the building, and the light through the French windows gradually dimmed. Yu Zhu sat on a bench in the courtyard, resting, her cheeks slightly flushed from the wind, her hands still resting on her cane, as if ready to stand up again at any moment.

Toru Koshima pushed open the door and went out.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, the slight relaxation that had not completely faded from Yu Zhu's face slowly disappeared.

"Mr. Yue," Teacher Li said politely.

Echizen Toru nodded slightly, glanced at his wrist, and said, "We've been practicing for a long time. Let's call it a day."

Yu Zhu raised her face.

The faint light before her eyes had almost completely faded, and the world was sinking back into darkness. The wind was cooler than before, blowing across her sweaty forehead, carrying a hint of the chill unique to early spring.

"I want to go through it again," she said.

Koshima Toru remained expressionless: "You've been practicing for a long time."

"I know."

Yu Zhu, leaning on her white cane, stood up from the bench: "Let's go through it again."

Teacher Li observed her breathing and posture: "Her physical strength and condition are alright..."

After he finished speaking, he turned to look at Echizen Toru.

After a moment of silence, Koshima Toru stepped aside.

Yu Zhu gripped her white cane tightly and walked along that route again.

This time, Teacher Li did not remind her again.

Yu Zhu would still stray from the path, and would stop in her tracks at the sudden chirping of birds. The last glimmer of light in front of her was so faint that it was almost indistinguishable; she could neither judge the sky nor see the colors left by the setting sun in the distance.

But she began to remember the changes in the soles of her feet.

Those small, scattered pieces of information together form a picture that is not yet complete.

Incomplete, yet sufficient.

When she reached the low steps, she probed the ground several times with her cane before slowly stepping down. She swayed slightly, but quickly regained her balance.

Echizen stood in the courtyard, watching her walk away from him little by little.

After walking through it a second time, Yu Zhu stood outside the door, her forehead glistening with fine beads of sweat in the setting sun.

She turned her face toward Teacher Li.

"Where can I go next?"