Run Wild

Chapter 10

“THE FUCK?! What do you think you’re doing?!” Jiang Cheng swore at him—little Gu Miao wasn’t here right now, so he didn’t give a damn about minding his language.

Gu Fei didn’t answer, merely pointing the camera at him and letting the shutter click a few more times. Jiang Cheng figured he’d captured every ugly contortion of his face.

He walked over to Gu Fei, reaching out to grab the camera. “I’m talking to you!”

Gu Fei swiftly pulled it back. “Two hundred and sixty-seven years.”

“Huh?” Jiang Cheng blinked. “Two hundred and sixty…what?”

“Two hundred and sixty-seven,” Gu Fei repeated.

“What’s two hundred and sixty-seven?”

“Xiao-Ming’s grandfather.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him for a full thirty seconds, partly because he was speechless, partly because he was trying not to laugh.

Finally, he pointed at Gu Fei’s camera. “Give me that. Or delete them.”

“Why don’t you look at them first?”

Gu Fei handed the camera over. Jiang Cheng was nervous as he took it. It was a hefty device—he kept feeling like he might accidentally drop it. He looked at the bevy of buttons, perplexed. Forget deleting the pictures—he didn’t even know what button he was supposed to press to look at them.

“Here.”

Gu Fei reached out and pressed something, and a photo appeared on the screen. There were four in total. Jiang Cheng flipped through each one in silence. He’d never been very interested in photography, whether they were his own photos of scenery or other people’s photos of him; he’d rather see the world with the naked eye. And although he usually thought himself rather handsome, he’d always get jump-scared by the front-facing camera on his phone, so he didn’t expect his appearance on Gu Fei’s camera to be so… Hmm.

So much like himself. That was it.

His face wasn’t twisted in a scowl like he was worried it would be. He only looked a bit impatient. He actually really liked the first photo. The bleak, chaotic background was a blur, giving it a slightly melancholic feel. It inexplicably brought a phrase to mind: a home elsewhere. As for his own figure —pictured walking toward the dying rays of light—there was hardly a need for words. He was spectacularly handsome.

Jiang Cheng flipped through the handful of photos of himself twice. He didn’t know what to do.

“The delete button is on the bottom right,” Gu Fei said.

“I know,” Jiang Cheng replied awkwardly.

He was the one who’d wanted to delete them, but now that he’d looked at them, he didn’t want to delete them anymore. After all, he’d never had photos of himself that showed so much character.

Last New Year, his whole family had gone to a studio to take a family photo. He thought it would look good, but when he saw the picture Jiang Cheng almost ripped it up. He’d even fought with his parents and stayed out for two nights over it… His thoughts were wandering too far. He collected himself and looked at Gu Fei.

“You’re pretty photogenic,” Gu Fei said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep them. I’ve taken lots of photos of my classmates—I keep all of them.”

Gu Fei had given him a very well-timed out. Jiang Cheng hesitated for two seconds. “Why do you take so many photos of people?”

“For fun.”

“…Ah.” Jiang Cheng nodded. He respected Gu Fei’s ability to kill a conversation dead every time. “An amateur photographer.”

“Here, let me add you as a contact,” Gu Fei said, taking his phone out, “so I can send you a copy when I’m done editing them.”

Jiang Cheng wanted to turn him down and say he didn’t care. But when he opened his mouth, he found himself nodding and saying, “Sure.”

He was still holding the camera, not knowing what else to do. Gu Fei didn’t say anything, either, apparently extremely comfortable with the awkward silence.

“Can I look at the other photos?” Jiang Cheng asked. He still couldn’t believe that someone like Gu Fei would have such an impressive, professional camera.

“Go ahead,” said Gu Fei.

Several of the photos were of the bridge and the sunset. From the way the light hit, it was clear that Gu Fei had been here almost all afternoon. There were a lot of photos—some of scenery, others of people walking along the bridge.

Jiang Cheng didn’t really understand photography, but he could tell when a photo looked good. Gu Fei’s photos were totally professional. The composition and color balance suffused them with warmth. If he hadn’t been standing in the bitter northern wind right now, looking at the photos would have made him feel as if he were sitting next to a radiator, comfortably basking in sunlight.

As he continued flipping through the pictures, he came across photos that must have been taken before today. Many of them were street scenes. There were trees and old buildings, snow piles and stray dogs, fallen leaves and the feet of passersby… The ordinary things you saw every day, yet looked right past.

Just as he began to get a handle on Gu Fei’s photography style, he came across a backlit image of Gu Miao in bright sunlight, bending and grabbing her skateboard as she soared through the air. It made Jiang Cheng let out an involuntary “Oh.”

Gu Fei was leaning over the bridge rails and smoking; he turned at the sound. “Hm?”

“This photo is really striking. Gu Miao looks so cool.” Jiang Cheng turned the photo toward Gu Fei. “Like she’s flying through the air.”

Gu Fei grinned. “It was a candid shot. She flew like a dozen times, and this was the only shot I caught.”

Jiang Cheng gave him another look. Gu Fei was a difficult person to label.

He usually seemed as indifferent as a heavenly immortal, an ender of conversations before they began—but when he was with Gu Miao, or whenever anyone mentioned her, he came across very gentle. Like a kind elder.

Jiang Cheng thought of Gu Miao’s woolen hat. The thread in the hand of the kindly brother…(9)

The mental picture even came with its own background music.

“Wake up and make love with me, wake up and make love…”

The music was a bit inappropriate, though.

“Your phone’s ringing,” Gu Fei said.

“Oh.” Jiang Cheng returned the camera to him, digging out his phone with slight embarrassment.

“Wake up and make love with me…”

“Oh, Chengcheng?” Li Baoguo’s voice exploded in his ear.

“What…did you just call me?” Wave after wave of goosebumps spread over Jiang Cheng’s entire body.

Gu Fei must have heard. Though he quickly turned away, Jiang Cheng still caught the shape of laughter on his face.

Damn it.

“You’re almost home, right?” Li Baoguo said. “Hurry back. Your brother and sister are home—we’re waiting for you to eat dinner!”

“Oh.” Jiang Cheng abruptly became despondent. His dumpling plan had fallen through, and he was dragged back to reality once again. Forced to confront people who had almost no chance of crossing his path before—people who were now his family—he found his legs suddenly unwilling to move. “Got it,” he said.

“You’re going home?” Gu Fei asked, putting his camera away.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng responded.

“Let’s go together. I’m heading home, too,” Gu Fei said.

“On your bike?” Jiang Cheng asked.

Gu Fei gave him a look. “…I walked.”

“Oh.” Jiang Cheng turned and started walking.

The temperature dropped dramatically the instant the sun disappeared behind the mountains. They strolled back against the biting northern wind.

Once he’d walked enough to thaw out his body a little, Jiang Cheng turned to glance at Gu Fei. “Do you know Li Baoguo?”

“Everyone knows everyone on those streets, more or less,” Gu Fei said.

“Grandpas and grandmas, uncles and aunts, brothers and sisters… We’re all old neighbors.”

“Oh, okay. So…what’s he like?” Jiang Cheng asked.

Gu Fei tugged his hat down and turned to him. “Who is he to you?”

Unsure of how exactly to answer, Jiang Cheng pulled the mask from his chin over his mouth and nose. With most of his face covered, he could finally relax a little. “My…birth father,” he said.

“Huh? Your birth father?” Gu Fei raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise.

“Li Baoguo has two sons? Now that you mention it, though…you do look a little bit like Li Hui.”

“I dunno.” Jiang Cheng bristled. “That’s what they told me, anyway… I asked you what he’s like. Could you just answer the question?”

“Seasoned gambler,” Gu Fei answered, blunt. “Professional alcoholic.”

Jiang Cheng’s steps paused.

“Want to hear more?” Gu Fei asked.

“What else is there?” Jiang Cheng sighed softly.

“Abuser. Beat his wife ’til she ran away.” Gu Fei looked contemplative for a moment. “That’s all the important stuff, I think.”

“It’s enough on its own.” Jiang Cheng furrowed his brow, but after a moment’s hesitation, he turned to stare at Gu Fei again. “Is that all true?”

Gu Fei laughed. “You don’t believe me?”

“All these neighborhood rumors are kinda…” Jiang Cheng didn’t finish his sentence. The neighborhood also says you killed your own father. But he couldn’t say that out loud. Whether he killed him or not, Gu Fei’s father was dead.

“Those aren’t rumors,” Gu Fei said. “You go home every day. You have to notice he plays mahjong.”

“Right.”

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng didn’t want to talk anymore.

They walked in silence all the way to the corner of the street. Gu Fei headed down the road that took him home. Jiang Cheng didn’t even have it in him to say goodbye—but Gu Fei didn’t say anything, either.

Jiang Cheng tugged at his mask and walked in the direction of Li Baoguo’s house. Still a distance away, he could already hear people arguing. It sounded like a vicious fight, and a co-ed group battle at that.

As he got a little closer, he could make out that it was coming from the building next to Li Baoguo’s. A man and a woman stood downstairs, and another man and woman were looking out the window from the second floor. He couldn’t tell the reason for the argument, but members of both teams were cussing each other out with great dedication, every word perfectly enunciated.

Various reproductive organs and indescribable scenarios were spat out, with some of the vocabulary recycled from time to time. Just listening to it made Jiang Cheng embarrassed for them.

When he reached the entrance to the building, the man on the second floor suddenly appeared at the window with a basin. Jiang Cheng took one look and immediately leaped to the side as the basinful of water—complete with vegetable leaves—came pouring down.

Although it didn’t land directly on his head, Jiang Cheng still got drenched. Disgust surged so violently through him that it almost busted the mask right off of his face.

“Are you crazy?! Bunch of morons!” he bellowed. “Go outside to fight, you cowards! Or did you max out your stats on being fucking Karens?!”

Jiang Cheng didn’t look around after he shouted at them, he simply turned and walked into the building. He didn’t know if they were stunned by his outburst or simply didn’t understand what he shouted at them. All he knew was that both parties exchanged some more curses at a lower volume, and then the fight abruptly ended.

Jiang Cheng tried to shake the water from his clothes, along with a few leaves the size of his fingernail. Fuck!

Just when he’d fished his keys out, Li Baoguo’s front door opened. He stuck his head out, his expression full of mirth. “Was that you just then?”

“What?” Jiang Cheng growled, irate.

“Well said,” Li Baoguo said with a laugh. “You sure are my son!”

Jiang Cheng walked inside without responding to that remark. The house was just as wretched as always, but it was a bit livelier today. The table was covered with various dishes, and the two men, two women, and three children sitting around the tiny living room filled it to its limit.

“Here, Chengcheng.” Li Baoguo shut the door and came over, throwing an affectionate arm over his shoulder. “Let me introduce you.”

Jiang Cheng loathed being hugged or patted by people he didn’t know well. He had to grit his teeth to resist shoving him away.

“This is your brother, Li Hui. He’s the eldest.” Li Baoguo pointed at a man who looked twenty-six or twenty-seven, and then at the young woman sitting next to him. “That’s your sister-in-law, and those two are your nephews… Come here and say hello to your uncle!”

The two boys watching TV nearby looked round in unison to give them a glance, and then immediately turned back. It was as if they hadn’t heard him at all.

“Hey, you brats! I told you to say hello!” Li Baoguo roared. But this time, the two children didn’t even turn round. “You…” Li Baoguo jabbed a finger in their direction. He clearly had more words to say, but he seemed uncertain what exactly those words were.

“It’s fine. They don’t know me.” Jiang Cheng patted Li Baoguo’s arm. All he wanted was to escape Li Baoguo’s barking shouts and flying spit as soon as possible—not to mention the arm on his shoulders turning his entire body rigid.

“You boys will get it from me later!” Li Baoguo shouted. He then pointed to another woman. “This is your sister, Li Qian, and your brother-in-law… Here’s your niece. Greet your uncle!”

“Uncle.” A little girl of about four or five called out to him in a tiny voice, sounding frightened.

Jiang Cheng forced a smile. “Hi.”

Li Baoguo finally let go of him. Citing a need to get changed, Jiang Cheng rushed into his room and closed the door. He leaned against it, shutting his eyes.

From the moment he entered the apartment, not a single person in that room had shown a smile except Li Baoguo. When Li Baoguo dragged him through the introductions, everyone only nodded; no one said a word. Their indifference didn’t feel personal, and it didn’t seem to come from any particular displeasure, either. Instead, it was what seemed to be an inborn numbness, with a trace of blank confusion.

It was more terrifying, more suffocating, than simple hostility. Just a minute or two of it was enough to choke Jiang Cheng; it felt like he couldn’t breathe. He took his coat off and braced himself against the wall, taking sharp, deep breaths in. He exhaled slowly, then inhaled, then exhaled slowly again. Finally, he let out a small sigh.

He couldn’t even count how many times he’d sighed over the past few days. He’d probably sighed enough air to fill one of those big party balloons.

After a few minutes alone in his room, Jiang Cheng heard Li Baoguo holler for him outside. He had no choice but to scrub his face with his hand, open the door, and walk out.

Everyone was already seated around the table, including the two TV-watching brats. In fact, they’d begun to eat, reaching their hands directly into the plates to grab ribs and chew on them.

“Come eat,” Li Qian said, stretching out her hand to pick up the bowl in front of Jiang Cheng.

“Thanks, I’ll do it myself.” Jiang Cheng quickly took the bowl. “You keep eating.”

“Let her fill your bowl,” Li Baoguo said from his corner. “That’s a woman’s job.”

Jiang Cheng was taken aback. Li Qian took the bowl out of his hand and went over to the pot of rice to fill it.

“Come on, we should drink the good stuff tonight.” Li Baoguo picked up two bottles of liquor from the floor—probably brought by Li Qian or Li Hui— but before Jiang Cheng could see what they were, he opened the cabinet next to them and put the bottles in, then retrieved a different bottle from it. “Rosehip wine. I fermented it myself!”

Li Hui wasn’t keen on it. “Let’s just drink the two bottles Li Qian brought,” he said. “You keep offering that crappy wine like it’s some kind of ambrosia. It just tastes like dishwater.”

“Ha!” Li Baoguo placed the bottle on the table. “Don’t think your old man’s wine is good enough? Why didn’t you bring any drinks yourself, then?

You came home empty-handed, and you have the gall to be picky?”

“Dad, what are you saying?” Li Hui’s wife said in a deeply dissatisfied tone. “Your son comes home to visit, and all you think about is whether he brought you anything?”

“Shut up!” Li Baoguo glared at her. “Since when do women have a say in this household?!”

“So what if I’m a woman?!” Li Hui’s wife raised her voice. “Without this woman, do you think you’d have two grandsons to carry on your family name? Where would you get them from, your daughter? She can’t even pop out a single grandson for her husband’s family!”

Jiang Cheng was appalled—appalled that this family could start a fight in two sentences, shocked that they would fight at a family dinner meant to foster some semblance of harmony, and absolutely stunned that Li Qian and her husband stayed silent the whole time.

“I have grandsons because I have a son!” Li Baoguo’s yelling was so loud that it threatened to shatter the decrepit lamp above his head. “Now I have another son! If I want more grandsons, I’ll have them! Li Hui, are you a man or not? This is how your wife acts, and you can’t even say a word?!”

“What’s the big deal?!” Li Hui slammed his chopsticks down and stood up; it wasn’t clear whether he was talking to his wife or Li Baoguo.

“You’re asking me? Don’t you know what we’re fighting about?!” his wife shrieked.

As soon as she screamed, the two brats—who had been grabbing food with their hands and raising it to their faces in unison—wailed at the same time, their voices as shrill as a police siren. It was a total headache.

Jiang Cheng stood, turned, and went back to his room, shutting the door.

The fight continued outside. Male bellows and female shouts and the cries of children—the lousy door couldn’t block out the awful noises at all.

Behind that thin wooden plank of a door was his real family. They stressed him out, and they probably would have still stressed him out if they were just characters on a TV show. They were the kind of people he had always disdained—not even disdain; they were the kind of people he would never have noticed to begin with.

If he’d grown up here for the past seventeen years, would he have ended up just like them? His temper, so quick that it could flare from a single touch, and his drawn-out rebellious phase—were they hereditary? Was it all written in his genes?

Maybe his rebellious phase wasn’t a phase. Maybe it was a terrifying part of his very nature.

Someone rapped gently on the door behind him. Outside, the voices continued to argue; he even heard someone kick a chair over. If he hadn’t been leaning against the door, he wouldn’t have heard the soft knock at all.

From outside came Li Qian’s voice, just as softly: “Jiang Cheng?”

After a few seconds of hesitation, he turned and cracked the door ajar to look at Li Qian, who was standing there rather anxiously.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng replied. He should’ve been asking Li Qian if she was okay.

“Um…” Li Qian took a glance back at the turmoil unfolding behind her.

“Do you want me to bring you some food so you can eat in your room?”

“No, thanks,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’m…not hungry.”

Li Qian didn’t say anything more. Jiang Cheng closed the door again and locked it.

After standing aimlessly in his room for a while, he walked to the window, grabbed the handle, and twisted it. The window didn’t budge.

From the day he’d arrived, he wanted to open this window, but he never succeeded. It was sealed tight, practically welded in place. He couldn’t even open it by a sliver. He grabbed the handle and twisted violently again, then began to push. He started to sweat from exertion, but he still couldn’t manage to get it open.

Glowering at the window and listening to the chaos out in the living room, he felt something about to explode within himself. He reached behind him, picked up a chair, and flung it hard at the glass.

It hit the window pane with a deafening bang.

The sound gave Jiang Cheng a great sense of satisfaction. Every hair on his body stood on end. He picked the chair back up and threw it again, shattering the glass and sending it scattering all over the floor.

As he steadily smashed the window, the shouting match in the living room turned into banging on his door. He couldn’t be bothered to listen to it.

Once the pane was completely destroyed, he aimed a foot at the now-empty window frame and kicked it hard.

The window opened.

There was the sound of a key in the door behind him. Bracing one hand against the windowsill, he jumped out.

Fuck you, and fuck this “birth family.”