Chapter 1
WHEN HIS PHONE VIBRATED in his pocket for the fifth time in the span of three minutes, Jiang Cheng opened his eyes.
He’d been on this train for almost three hours. Outside, the sky was as gloomy as it’d been the last time he’d looked out the window. The stranger beside him was still asleep. Her head rested heavily on his right shoulder, which had gone numb.
Jiang Cheng shrugged in irritation, but the girl only shifted in place. With one finger, he nudged the girl’s head away from him, but it was back on his shoulder within a few seconds. This was absolutely not the first time he’d done this. He was starting to wonder whether she was really asleep or actually comatose.
Ugh.
He didn’t know how much longer it would be until his stop; it wasn’t something he’d paid attention to when he got the ticket. He only knew that the destination was a city he’d never even heard of before embarking on this trip.
Life… It was nothing if not absurd.
The sixth time his phone vibrated, Jiang Cheng sighed and pulled it from his pocket.
– What’s going on?
– How come you never mentioned leaving?
– Why’d you leave so suddenly?
– Why didn’t you say anything?
What what how how why why why blahblahblahblah…
The messages were from Yu Xin, who must not have been able to call him because she was in cram classes over the holiday. He glanced at the screen: It was filled with question marks.
Jiang Cheng was about to put the phone back in his pocket when a seventh message came in.
– If you don’t reply, we’re over!
Finally: a message without a question mark. He breathed a sigh of relief, turned his phone off, and stuffed it back in his pocket.
Breaking up didn’t mean very much to him. All a two-month-long high school romance like theirs meant was talking to each other a little more than everyone else, having someone to bring you breakfast, and having a dedicated cheerleader by the basketball court… They hadn’t even gotten to the “doing stuff” stage.
As Jiang Cheng watched the landscape outside the window—shifting, but somehow constant—he finally heard the conductor call his stop over the intercom. Beside him, the girl stirred as if she was about to wake up. He quickly pulled a red marker from his backpack, pulled the lid off, and twirled it between his fingers, moments before the girl woke up and lifted her face.
There was a prominent imprint on her forehead where it had been pressed against his shoulder, as if she was a practitioner of some kind of divine cultivation. When she met his gaze, the girl wiped the corner of her mouth and took out her phone.
“Sorry about that,” she said, tapping around the screen with her head down.
What a surprise—Jiang Cheng couldn’t make out so much as a hint of actual regret. He chuckled pointedly. There was a pause as the girl’s gaze fell on the marker twirling in his hand.
Jiang Cheng popped the lid back on the marker with a loud snap.
The girl was still for two seconds. Then she suddenly covered her face with her hands, jumped up, and bolted down the aisle to the bathroom.
Jiang Cheng stood and glanced out the window. It had been overcast the whole way here, and now it was finally snowing. Retrieving his suitcase from the overhead luggage rack, he put on his jacket and walked to the door, then pulled out his phone and turned it on again.
His notifications were quiet. There were no more messages from Yu Xin, nor were there any missed calls. This was the most pleasant Yu Xin had been since they got together, he thought. What a feat. But apart from Yu Xin, nobody else had tried to contact him, either—for instance, there was no sign of the person he’d thought would come pick him up.
As he followed the crowd out of the station, Jiang Cheng zipped his puffer jacket all the way up to his chin and looked out at the city, bleak and gray in the chill of winter. This was his first impression of the city: the decay and disarray around the train station.
But no—it was his second impression. His actual first impression was the stunned confusion when his mom had said, “Go back there, then—that’s your real home.”
He dragged his suitcase to the southernmost edge of the station square, away from the crowd. Nearby was a side street lined with all sorts of sketchy-looking inns, the kind people probably entered and never came out of, and small restaurants that looked like they’d give you food poisoning. He sat on his suitcase and checked his phone periodically. Still, nobody tried to contact him.
Jiang Cheng had been given a phone number and an address; he was just reluctant to move from this spot. In fact, he didn’t feel like moving or talking at all. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and put it between his lips. Inside him was a deep, inexplicable, confused, and hopeless anger about how he’d come to be in this situation. He stared at the ice on the ground and fumed, fumbling in his pocket for a lighter. When he finally managed to light the cigarette, his back hunched against the bitter wind, he watched the smoke disperse before his eyes and sighed.
If only his old homeroom teacher could see him now.
But that didn’t matter anymore. He was here now, a million miles away.
He might never again see the people who’d lived under the same roof as him for more than a decade, so what did a mere teacher matter? Whatever run-down school he wound up going to in this run-down city, he doubted anyone there would give a crap if he smoked.
By the time Jiang Cheng was halfway through the cigarette, he couldn’t stand the cold anymore. He stood up, planning to hail a cab to go get some food first, but he’d barely taken one step with his suitcase when he felt a surge of pain —something had knocked hard against his ankle.
He turned with a frown. There was a skateboard on the ground behind him. Before he even had a chance to work out where it had come from, someone fell to the ground next to his feet.
“Are you…?”
Out of reflex, he reached out to help, but his hand paused in mid-air.
The person had a mop of untidy hair, as uneven as if it’d been chewed on by a dog. Their clothes were dirty, too… Was this a beggar? A homeless person? A scam artist, or a thief, or something?
It wasn’t until the person raised their head that he clearly saw it was a little girl, probably eleven or twelve years old. Her face was streaked with mud, but he could still see that she had a fair complexion and incredibly large eyes.
Before he had a chance to offer a helping hand again, the girl was dragged away roughly by four or five other little girls who came chasing after her. One of them even landed a kick on her back, making her stumble forward and almost fall again.
Jiang Cheng immediately understood what was happening. After a moment’s hesitation, he turned to continue on his way. But a peal of laughter behind him made him pause again.
He didn’t like to get involved in other people’s business when he was in a bad mood—and it just so happened that at this very moment he was in an extremely, extraordinarily, exceptionally terrible mood. But in the end, the lingering image of those large, dark eyes made him turn around.
“Hey!” he called out.
The group of girls stopped. One, who looked like she might be their ringleader, narrowed her eyes at him.
“What?!”
Jiang Cheng walked over slowly, dragging his suitcase behind him, keeping his eyes fixed on the girl who still had Big Eyes’ clothes in her grasp.
After a couple more seconds of staring, the girl loosened her grip.
He pulled Big Eyes to his side and looked at the other girls. “Nothing,” he said. “Go on, then.”
“Who the hell are you?” their leader blurted out in obvious displeasure, despite her apprehension.
“I’m a big brother with a knife.” Jiang Cheng glanced at her. “I can give you the same haircut she has in just thirty seconds.”
The leader clearly wasn’t used to this kind of confrontation. She was a little cowed by his words, but she didn’t want to give in so easily. “I’m gonna tell my brother to get you!”
“Then tell him to hurry up.” Jiang Cheng yanked on his suitcase with one hand and grabbed Big Eyes with the other. “I’m scared to death, so I might run.”
As the other girls walked away, Big Eyes shook off his hand.
“Are you all right?” Jiang Cheng asked.
She nodded and walked back to the skateboard. She stepped on it with one foot and looked back at him.
“Yours?” Jiang Cheng asked again.
Big Eyes nodded. She pushed off lightly with one foot and rolled to his side before coming to a steady stop, her eyes still fixed on him.
Jiang Cheng nodded as well. “Then…you should go home.”
He pulled out his phone and walked away with the intention of calling a cab. After a few steps, he heard a noise behind him; he turned and saw Big Eyes slowly following him on her skateboard. He looked at her.
“What’s wrong?”
Big Eyes didn’t say anything.
Jiang Cheng sighed. “Afraid they’ll come back?”
Big Eyes shook her head.
Jiang Cheng was starting to feel irritated. “What? Are you mute?”
Big Eyes continued to shake her head.
“Let me tell you something. I”—Jiang Cheng pointed at himself— “am in a very bad mood right now. Very grumpy. I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you’re a little girl, understand?”
Big Eyes didn’t move.
Jiang Cheng stared at her for a while. It was clear that she had no intention of speaking, though, so he bottled up his annoyance and continued on his way.
Cell reception was bad around here; no matter how he tried, he couldn’t get the ride-hailing app to work. He sat down on a stone post by the bus stop and lit another cigarette.
Big Eyes was still standing on her skateboard next to him.
“Is there something else you need?” Jiang Cheng asked impatiently. He was starting to regret interfering and bringing this strange trouble onto himself.
Still silent, Big Eyes pushed lightly on the ground with one foot and rolled up to the nearby bus stop sign. She raised her head and stared at it for a long time. When she rolled back to Jiang Cheng’s side, he realized the cause of her confused expression. He sighed again.
“Are you lost? Don’t know how to get home?”
Big Eyes nodded.
“Do you live here?” Jiang Cheng asked.
A nod.
Jiang Cheng handed his phone to her. “Call and tell your family to come get you.”
She accepted the phone, but hesitated. After a few taps on the screen, she handed it back to him.
“What do you mean?” Jiang Cheng looked at the number displayed there.
“You want me to call for you?”
A nod.
“Shit.” Furrowing his brow, Jiang Cheng pressed the call button and listened to the dial tone. He asked her, “Which family member does this number belong to?”
Someone picked up on the other end before Big Eyes could answer— although, of course, she probably wouldn’t have said anything.
“Hello?” Jiang Cheng said.
There was a male voice on the other end. “Who’s this?”
“A passerby.” Jiang Cheng was a little unsure of how to explain the situation. “I have a little girl here—” “Not interested,” said the voice. The line was dead before Jiang Cheng had a chance to respond.
“Who the hell was that?” Jiang Cheng spat out his spent cigarette stub and pointed a finger at Big Eyes. “If you’re not gonna talk, then get lost. I’m running out of patience.”
Big Eyes crouched down beside his legs and picked up a rock to write a crooked “big brother” on the ground. Then she lifted her head to look at him.
Jiang Cheng figured this little girl might really be mute. “Okay. Got it.”
He called the number again. On this attempt, it only rang a few times.
“Who’s this?”
Jiang Cheng glanced at Big Eyes. “I have your little sister here—”
“Go ahead and get rid of her,” was the answer from the other end. The line went dead again.
“Fuck me!” Jiang Cheng had a sudden urge to smash his phone. Pointing at Big Eyes, he demanded, “Your name!”
Big Eyes lowered her head and scribbled out her name with the rock.
Gu Miao.
Jiang Cheng didn’t call the number again. Instead, he sent a message, attaching a photo of Big Eyes with the words: Gu Miao. mute. skateboard.
Thirty seconds later, the same number called him back.
Jiang Cheng picked up. “Too late, I already got rid of the body.”
“Sorry about that,” said the voice from before. “Can you please tell me where you are? I want to see if I can still piece her back together.”
“…East Station, the really run-down one.” Jiang Cheng knitted his brow.
“She got lost. Hurry up, I have to go.”
“Thank you, thank you so much,” the voice answered. “I’ll be there right away. You can go ahead and leave if you’re in a hurry; just tell her to wait there for me.”
Jiang Cheng picked up the cigarette stub he’d tossed earlier and flicked it into a nearby garbage can, then lit a new one. He was going to call a cab and head out, but it occurred to him that nobody cared whether he came or went, or where he was. He supposed he wasn’t in any particular rush.
Gu Miao sat for a while on her skateboard, then stepped back onto it and began to zip back and forth along the sidewalk. Jiang Cheng watched her in amazement. He thought the little girl was just fooling around, but he was shocked to see her handle going uphill, downhill, accelerating, braking, and turning with such ease. That head of tumbleweed hair and the dirty face and clothes kept breaking his illusion, though.
After a while, Gu Miao rolled to a stop beside him, kicked the skateboard up with her toes, and caught it in her hands. She raised her hand and pointed behind Jiang Cheng.
“Real cool.” Jiang Cheng gave her a thumbs-up and turned around.
A black motorcycle had stopped behind him. The rider wore a helmet that obscured his face, and the legs that rested against the curb were wrapped in form-fitting gray pants and boots. It was all very eye-catching—especially those long, straight legs.
“Your brother?” Jiang Cheng asked Gu Miao.
She nodded.
“What’s wrong with your head?” The rider removed his helmet and dismounted. His eyes were glued to Gu Miao’s hair as he walked up to them.
“And your face and clothes… Did you fall in an outhouse?”
Gu Miao shook her head.
“Bullied by classmates is more like it,” Jiang Cheng said.
“Thank you.” Only now did this person direct his gaze toward Jiang Cheng. He extended a hand. “Gu Fei—I’m her brother.”
Jiang Cheng stood up and shook his hand. “You’re welcome.”
Gu Fei appeared to be around the same age as him, though it was difficult to tell that he was Gu Miao’s brother from his eyes alone—the shape was similar, but Gu Miao’s were larger… His face was just as fair, though.
Up until this moment, Jiang Cheng’s mood had been nothing but rotten tomatoes all the way down, but he found himself sparing a couple glances through the tomato spiral at Gu Fei’s hair, which was every bit as eye-catching as his long legs.
Gu Fei sported a very short buzz cut. When he turned his head, Jiang Cheng saw music staves and notes shaved into the shorter fuzz on each side—a bass clef on one side, and a rest on the other. He couldn’t see from here how many dots the rest had.
“Did you just get off the train?” Gu Fei asked, glancing at the suitcase beside him.
“Yeah.” Jiang Cheng picked up his phone to open the ride-hailing app again.
“Where are you headed? I can give you a ride,” Gu Fei offered.
“That’s okay.” Jiang Cheng eyed the bike. As large as it was, a motorcycle was still a motorcycle.
“She doesn’t take up any space,” said Gu Fei.
“It’s all right, thanks.”
“Say ‘thank you’ to this big brother,” Gu Fei said to Gu Miao, pointing at Jiang Cheng, “you ball of poop.”
Jiang Cheng turned to face the “ball of poop,” curious to hear her speak.
But instead, Gu Miao clutched her skateboard tight and gave him a full 90-degree bow.
Gu Fei straddled the bike and put on his helmet, while Gu Miao climbed deftly onto the back seat and held on to his waist.
“Thanks again,” Gu Fei said before turning the bike around and speeding away.
Jiang Cheng sat back down on the stone post. The signal was good enough now, but all the same, he waited for a long time and no one accepted his ride request. None of the passing cabs stopped, either, when he tried to flag them down.
What kind of shitty place is this?
He’d been in a rotten mood for a while now, but he hadn’t had a chance to savor it properly. His life had been turned upside down and it left his mind numb with shock and confusion. He had no room to catch his breath. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to wonder why he’d accepted this arrangement in the first place before he found himself here already.
Was it rebellion? His mom had said, “There’s never been anyone in our family as rebellious as you. You’re covered in thorns.”
Of course, they had never been a family—hell, over the past few years they’d practically become enemies. When they looked at each other, all they saw was rage.
Jiang Cheng frowned. He hadn’t had a chance to ponder any of that. At least, not until now—not until this very moment. It was only in this cold, unfamiliar, snowy city that he’d finally been jolted back to reality.
Pained, hopeless, and resistant to the unknown that lay ahead, his nose twinged. He lowered his head, his tears leaving furious streaks down his face.
***
Jiang Cheng was sitting in a KFC in the middle of nowhere when his phone rang. He glanced at the unknown number and picked up.
“Hello?”
A middle-aged man’s voice boomed through the receiver. “Jiang Cheng?”
Jiang Cheng held the phone away from his ears. “Yes.”
“I’m your daddy,” the man said.
“…Oh.” Jiang Cheng answered. This exchange was somehow amusing to him, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
The man laughed along with him for a second before continuing, “My name is Li Baoguo. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” Jiang Cheng took a sip of coke.
“Has your train arrived yet?” Li Baoguo asked.
“Yeah.” Jiang Cheng glanced down at his watch. Two hours ago.
“Do you have the address? I don’t have a car to pick you up, just take a cab over and I’ll meet you out by the main road,” said Li Baoguo.
“Okay.”
He had better luck this time; he was able to hail a cab right away. The driver had the heat on full blast, and it was so warm that Jiang Cheng felt a little feverish. The driver was chatty, but Jiang Cheng just leaned against the window and stared outside quietly. After a few false starts, the driver finally gave up and turned on the radio.
Jiang Cheng was trying his best to get a good look at the city, but night had descended and the streetlamps didn’t do much in the way of illumination.
Besides, watching snowflakes dance in the halo of the lights made him a little dizzy.
He closed his eyes.
And then he quickly opened them again. What was wrong with him? How lame. He was acting like a sissy.
When the taxi finally brought him to his destination, Jiang Cheng got out with his suitcase and stood on the side of the street.
There was nobody there.
Not even a shadow of “your daddy” Li Baoguo, who’d promised to meet him out by the main road. Fighting the irritation in his heart and the pain of his wind-blown face, Jiang Cheng pulled out his phone and called Li Baoguo.
The call rang for a long time before Li Baoguo picked up. “Agh, this hand sucks… Yeah?”
“I’m out here on the main road.” Hearing the noise from the other end, though, Jiang Cheng had the sudden urge to hang up and look for a hotel instead.
“Huh?! You’re here already?” Li Baoguo exclaimed loudly. “I’m here, I’m already here, I’m coming out right now.”
That so-called “right now” was right about five minutes. Just as Jiang Cheng was reaching out with one hand to flag a cab, dragging his suitcase along with the other, a man wearing an ushanka hat ran up and pushed his arm down.
“Jiang Cheng, right?” he shouted.
Jiang Cheng was silent. He saw the apartment building Li Baoguo had run out from. It was right next to where he’d been waiting.
Right now?
When he noticed heads poking out from a second-floor window looking in their direction, he almost wanted to keep his mouth shut forever.
“I was over at a friend’s place. Let’s go.” Li Baoguo patted his shoulder.
“Come on, let’s go home… You look taller than the photos, huh.”
Jiang Cheng kept his eyes down, glued to the muddy road, as he followed.
“Hey.” Li Baoguo slapped his back a couple of times for good measure.
“How many years has it been now? Gotta be more than ten, eh? I finally got to see my son! I should take a good look.”
Li Baoguo peered round in front of Jiang Cheng and stared straight into his face.
Jiang Cheng pulled up the face mask he’d left scrunched up on his chin, fixing it over his nose. In that instant, he suddenly felt hollowed out. Even the air around him was charged with a sense of wandering aimlessness.