Chapter 11
THE INSTANT HE LEAPED OUT the window, the winter wind filled his lungs and rushed into his pores, permeating his entire body.
It was satisfying.
As the shattered glass crunched beneath his feet, Jiang Cheng felt that suffocating feeling finally disappear.
The sky outside was completely dark now. There were no streetlamps, and who knew where the moon had gone. The only illumination came from the weak light filtering out of the windows of various homes. He could vaguely make out that he was at the butt-end of these buildings, and in front of him was a large blanket of snow that hadn’t been cleared away.
Jiang Cheng took his phone out of his pants pocket and turned the screen on. With the faint glow lighting the way, he trudged through the snow with uneven footsteps, walking around the back of the buildings until he reached the end of the street.
Ahead was a small factory building. The road ended here. He stopped, standing in the darkness. After his fit of rage, he’d managed to slowly calm down in the cold wind. Now, he was at a bit of a loss.
Where should he go?
What should he do?
He had no destination, no goal.
He looked down at the clock on his phone, mulling over what to do next.
It was too fucking cold; he forgot to put on his jacket before he jumped out.
There was a smudge on his phone screen. He wiped it with a finger, but instead of removing the smudge, it added another. He couldn’t see what it was through the darkness. He could only feel slight moisture on his fingers.
He reacted quickly, shining his phone screen at his finger.
Blood.
“Oh, shit,” he whispered.
It was a little terrifying to see his hand covered in blood. It was so cold that his hand had gone numb; he didn’t feel any pain. He had to search for a while before he found the source: a cut on his palm. It was deep, and the blood was still gushing out.
Jiang Cheng rummaged through both of his pants pockets, but he couldn’t find anything to stem the flow, not even a tissue. He had no choice but to pull up a corner of his sweater and press it hard against his palm. It was cold, but not cold enough to freeze his wound over.
…Oh yeah, it was fucking freezing. And he didn’t even have a jacket.
Fucking hell!
For the first time since he’d jumped out of the window, Jiang Cheng felt the icy chill permeate him to the bone—it was a rude awakening. He had no jacket, no money, and a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.
Roughly guessing at a direction, he ran down a path to the next street. Li Baoguo had mentioned that the community clinic was that way; he could get someone to bandage it for him while he warmed up. He ran a few steps, then, unable to stand the cold any longer, switched from a run to a skipping gait—he could barely feel the warmth of his own breath anymore. It was just too fucking cold!
Li Baoguo had said the clinic wasn’t obvious from the outside. He wasn’t wrong. “Not obvious” was putting it mildly; Jiang Cheng had already run past when he noticed it. It wasn’t even lit.
…Not even lit? He froze. The lights…were off!
He had to go right up to the door to see the sign hanging on it. He was so cold that even his eyes were shivering, and only with great effort could he make out, barely, that the doctor had gone home for dinner.
“…No way!”
He knocked on the door. There was no response.
A phone number was included on the sign, but he didn’t call it. He figured that by the time the doctor answered the call and returned, he would have frozen to death on the spot.
Frowning, he turned to look around. Gu Fei’s store was about fifteen feet from here, brightly lit.
He hated the idea of Gu Fei seeing him in such a pathetic state again, but…it was just too damn cold!
Jiang Cheng hopped over and pulled the door open, pushing the heavy leather curtain aside with one hand. Warmth rushed at him head-on, banishing the cramping stiffness from his body with a surge of instant relaxation. But the next moment, he stilled again, slightly embarrassed. He didn’t know why, but every time he entered Gu Fei’s store, he ended up feeling awkward.
The space where Fresh Out of Jail had been loitering last time he was here was now occupied by a small table. On it was a crackling electric stove, with a steaming pot of…mutton soup, from the smell of it. Gu Fei was filling a bowl for Gu Miao. A woman who looked to be in her twenties stood nearby, directly facing the door.
Aside from the age difference, they looked like a family of three. Jiang Cheng felt like his arrival was extremely ill-timed.
“What—” Gu Fei startled when he turned and saw Jiang Cheng. “What happened to you?”
“Can you not ask?” Jiang Cheng said. “I was just…passing by.”
“A friend of yours?” the woman asked Gu Fei.
“Yeah.” Gu Fei stood and walked over to Jiang Cheng, his gaze landing on his wounded hand.
The woman stood as well. “What—” “First aid kit,” Gu Fei said, turning to her.
“Right.” She strode quickly into the smaller room.
Gu Miao was still sitting at the table, unmoving. She gripped her spoon, her eyes very wide as she watched them nervously. Jiang Cheng noticed Gu Fei move slightly to one side, blocking Gu Miao’s line of sight. Hurriedly, he hid his hand behind his body.
“Go inside,” Gu Fei told him.
Jiang Cheng marched into the smaller room, where the woman had taken out a first aid kit. Seeing him come in, she asked quietly, “Your hand?”
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng answered. “The clinic next door…” “The doctor’s having dinner right now,” the woman said. “Is it serious?
I’ll help you clean it up a little—I can disinfect it.”
“It’s not serious.” Jiang Cheng glanced at the first aid kit. It was quite well-stocked. “I can do it myself.”
“Won’t be an easy task with one hand,” the woman said with a smile.
“It’ll be faster if I help you.”
“Knife wound?” Gu Fei asked as he walked in.
“No.” Jiang Cheng hesitated, then loosened his tight hold on his sweater.
Even he was shocked when he released his hand: There was a massive bloodstain on its hem.
“You…” Gu Fei frowned at his hand and looked at the sweater. “Maybe I should do it,” he said to the woman.
“It’s fine. A small cut like this can’t scare me.” The woman laughed and pushed him. “Go keep Er-Miao company. She looked pretty nervous just now.”
“…Okay.” Gu Fei hesitated, then turned to walk out. But after two steps, he paused again and turned back to introduce the two of them. “My classmate, Jiang Cheng. This is Ding Zhuxin, my big sister.”
“Just call me Xin-jie,”(10) Ding Zhuxin chuckled. She pulled Jiang Cheng’s hand closer. “Let me see. The cut looks pretty deep…” “Does it?”
Zhuxin…“bamboo heart”? It wasn’t much of a name, considering bamboo was hollow.
Jiang Cheng was baffled by the literary romanticism of his own musings today.
“I’ll rinse it with saline first,” said Ding Zhuxin. “Then I’ll put iodine on it.”
Jiang Cheng nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”
Ding Zhuxin smiled. “Don’t mention it.”
It was very warm in the room, so Jiang Cheng warmed up quickly.
However, as his body thawed, the wound seemed to wake up with it, the pain boring into his hand. As Ding Zhuxin cleaned his hand of blood, he realized his wound really wasn’t just a small cut.
“Got cut with glass, huh,” she said. “That was careless of you.”
Jiang Cheng didn’t reply.
Gu Fei’s sister…with the surname Ding? Did she take their mother’s surname? Furthermore, although Ding Zhuxin was very pretty—her complexion was so fair it was almost translucent, and from this angle, her long, thick lashes obscured her eyes almost completely—she looked nothing like Gu Fei or Gu Miao.
“You’re Gu Fei’s sister?” he asked.
“Not his biological sister.” Ding Zhuxin laughed. “He just calls me jiejie. I used to live upstairs from him.”
Jiang Cheng smiled. “Oh.”
“I watched him grow up. He always used to follow me around as a kid.”
Ding Zhuxin applied the iodine for him, then wrapped the wound with gauze from the first aid kit. “That’s all I can do for now—wrap it up. You can have the doctor take a look at it later.”
“Thank you.” Jiang Cheng stood.
“What’s with all the thank-yous?” Ding Zhuxin packed the first aid kit away. “Da-Fei never thanks me when I clean his wounds.”
How rude of him, Jiang Cheng thought, but after a moment’s consideration, he figured she and Gu Fei were probably just too close for that.
Though Ding Zhuxin and Gu Fei had barely spoken to each other since he came in, he could sense they had a very close relationship. What was more, when Ding Zhuxin turned, Jiang Cheng saw the little musical note adorning her earlobe…
Sister? Tsk, tsk.
Who would have thought Gu Fei was into that sort of thing? This woman was at least four or five years older than him!
“You’re Da-Fei’s classmate, huh?” Ding Zhuxin said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before… Although he doesn’t hang around his classmates that much anyway.”
“I just transferred here,” Jiang Cheng said.
Ding Zhuxin studied him. “I see.”
“You done?” Gu Fei pushed the door open.
“Done,” Ding Zhuxin said. “He can go have it looked at when Dr. Zhang comes back.”
“Is the cut deep?” Gu Fei asked.
“It’s just a graze—how deep could it be?” Jiang Cheng said.
Gu Fei glanced outside. “Er-Miao wants me to ask if Cheng-ge’s eaten.”
“…Not yet,” Jiang Cheng answered rather morosely.
“Just in time for you to eat together, then,” Ding Zhuxin said. As she walked out, her hand rested very naturally on Gu Fei’s shoulder. “I was just saying I bought too much lamb for the two of them to finish tonight.”
Jiang Cheng hesitated for a moment before whispering, “Won’t I be in the way?”
“In the way of what?” Gu Fei didn’t understand, but he subconsciously lowered his voice as well.
“Um…” Jiang Cheng’s eyes flitted swiftly over Ding Zhuxin’s back. “Your sister.”
For a moment, Gu Fei looked stunned. Then he leaned against the door frame, with a smile dancing at the corners of his lips. “Oh.”
Jiang Cheng looked at him. “Oh?”
“You won’t be in the way. Er-Miao’s here too, isn’t she?” Gu Fei entered the room and took a sweater from the closet. He chucked it on the bed. “Get changed. She gets scared.”
After Gu Fei left, Jiang Cheng picked up the sweater. It looked like it was about his size, so he changed into it. He looked down and examined the sweater for a moment. This wasn’t knitted by Gu Fei himself, was it…?
“Need a hand?” Gu Fei called from outside.
“No!” he answered in a hurry, folding the sweater he’d taken off and leaving it on a nearby chair.
The moment he walked out of the room, he breathed in the heavy aroma of mutton soup that filled the store. All at once, Jiang Cheng was so hungry that he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
“Smells good, doesn’t it?” Ding Zhuxin filled another bowl.
“Yeah.” Jiang Cheng walked over and sat by the small table.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen Er-Miao ask anyone to stay for dinner. I was only away for two months, and she’s made so much progress.” Ding Zhuxin picked up two pieces of lamb and added them to Gu Miao’s bowl. “You must’ve moved here a while ago, right, Jiang Cheng? Was it last semester?”
“This semester,” Jiang Cheng said.
“Oh.” Ding Zhuxin studied him for a few more seconds before smiling and putting a bowl of soup in front of him. “That’s surprising.”
Meanwhile, Gu Miao kept sneaking peeks at Jiang Cheng’s bandaged hand as she ate.
“It’s fine now.” Gu Fei grabbed Jiang Cheng’s hand and put it in front of her. “See?”
Jiang Cheng’s wound was on his right hand. His grip on his chopsticks was already shaky to begin with; when Gu Fei suddenly grabbed him, the chopsticks flew out of his grasp and clattered to the floor.
Lightly and very carefully, Gu Miao touched the bandage around his palm.
“Let go.” Ding Zhuxin swatted Gu Fei’s hand and picked the chopsticks up. “He’s injured. Why’d you have to grab him so hard?”
Gu Fei reached out for the chopsticks. “I’ll wash them.”
Jiang Cheng made to get up. “I’ll—” “Sit, both of you. I’m not eating, anyway.” Ding Zhuxin rose and walked out the back door.
“She’s not?” Jiang Cheng was taken aback. Noticing the three sets of bowls and chopsticks at the table, he was instantly abashed. What if three sets were all they had, and there weren’t enough to go round because of him?
“She doesn’t eat at night—hasn’t for years now.” Gu Fei handed him his own chopsticks. “I haven’t used these yet.”
“No rush,” Jiang Cheng said.
“No?” Gu Fei turned to look at him. “I thought you were so hungry your eyes were going square.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Jiang Cheng accepted his chopsticks and picked up a piece of lamb, putting it in his mouth. He really must have been famished. This lamb was easily one of the top three most delicious things he’d eaten in the past two years.
When Ding Zhuxin returned and saw the chopsticks in Jiang Cheng’s hand, she froze for a moment before putting the washed pair in front of Gu Fei.
Softly, she said, “I’m heading off.”
“Okay.” Gu Fei stood and fetched her jacket from behind the counter.
Jiang Cheng stood up as well and forced himself to find something to say.
“Won’t you eat a little? It’s…really good.” He felt even more awkward.
“You guys go ahead. Eat up.” Ding Zhuxin chuckled and put on her jacket. “I’m on a diet.”
“Oh.” Jiang Cheng hesitated, then sat back down. Gu Miao pointed at the lamb in the pot, and he nodded. “I’ll get some for you.”
Gu Miao pointed at his empty bowl.
“I’m…not in a hurry.” Jiang Cheng was a little embarrassed. He was so hungry that even the little girl could tell. To show her he really wasn’t in any rush, he forced himself to look around at Gu Fei and Ding Zhuxin.
“Keys.” Ding Zhuxin stretched her hand out at Gu Fei.
“Isn’t it cold?” Gu Fei dug the motorcycle keys out of his pocket.
“I was racing when you were finishing elementary school, kid.” Ding Zhuxin took the keys and turned around to walk out through the curtains. Gu Fei followed her to the door and looked out, then came back to sit.
An inexplicable sense of relief washed over Jiang Cheng after Ding Zhuxin left. It was the first time he’d ever felt such intense awkwardness around a girl. Ding Zhuxin was very pretty, the sort of beauty that was neither ostentatious nor aggressive—normally, he’d look twice if he saw someone like that on the street.
He took another piece of lamb. His hand still hurt; when he picked the meat up, he didn’t dare use much force. He held himself like he was disarming a bomb, afraid a single tremble of his hand would fling a piece of lamb onto the table.
Gu Fei brought over a slotted spoon and reached straight to the bottom of the pot with it, retrieving a large portion of meat. He held it out to Jiang Cheng.
“I’m tired of watching you.”
“Thanks.” Jiang Cheng shoveled half the meat into his own bowl, then grabbed Gu Miao’s and pushed the rest into hers.
“How did you hurt your hand?” Gu Fei asked.
Jiang Cheng didn’t reply. He really didn’t know how to tell the story. Gu Fei probably knew what Li Baoguo’s family was like; if Jiang Cheng told him, it would only be more gossip fodder—even if Gu Fei didn’t look like the kind of guy who gossiped.
He fell silent for a moment. “I bit myself.”
Gu Miao stared at him. After a moment, she grinned.
Gu Fei nodded. “Nice teeth you got there,” he said. “You should value yourself more—go easy on the bite next time.”
Jiang Cheng smiled at Gu Miao and lowered his head to slurp up the soup.
“Are you heading back later?” Gu Fei asked.
This time, Jiang Cheng’s answer was quick and decisive. “No.”
“You got somewhere to stay?” Gu Fei reached into the little basket of vegetables next to them and put two stalks of leafy greens into the pot to blanch.
“Yeah.” After that, Jiang Cheng paused. After almost two whole minutes of silence, he opened his lips again with great difficulty. “Do you have cash?
Can you lend me some?”
“How much?” Gu Fei put his chopsticks down.
Jiang Cheng thought for a moment. “Five hundred yuan. I can transfer the amount to you on my phone right now.”
“No worries.” Gu Fei took out his wallet and fished out the bills.
“Thank you.” Once he took the cash, Jiang Cheng felt much more secure.
As he got his phone out, he said, “Add me on WeChat. I’ll pay you back.”
“Actually, if you turn right at the corner and walk about two hundred yards, there’s a small side street that ends at a HomeInn budget hotel.” Gu Fei tapped on his phone a few times. “It won’t cost five hundred.”
Jiang Cheng watched him wordlessly, then picked his bowl up to drink a mouthful of soup. Although Gu Fei hadn’t guessed wrong—there was no way he could have, since Jiang Cheng had no other option but to stay at a hotel—it was humiliating to hear it said out loud.
His phone dinged. He glanced down at the screen to see Gu Fei’s friend request: Good Little Bunny.(11) The display name almost made him spray a mouthful of broth onto the phone.
He turned the phone toward Gu Fei. “This you?”
“Yeah. Cute, huh?” said Gu Fei, unfazed.
“…Very.” Jiang Cheng was at a loss for words. He approved the friend request and glanced at Gu Fei’s profile picture. It fit his display name well: a green rabbit. Judging from the color and technique, the artist was probably Gu Miao. “Did Gu Miao draw this?”
Next to them, Gu Miao nodded.
“It’s…really good,” Jiang Cheng expressed his extremely insincere praise.
Gu Miao’s artistic talent fell behind her skateboarding skills by at least seven hundred and twenty-four of Xiao-Ming’s grandfather’s lifespans.
As he was about to transfer the money to Gu Fei, there was a sound from the front door. Someone had opened it, then pushed the curtains apart by a crack.
Finding it a bit odd, Jiang Cheng glanced over. It was completely normal to buy things at this hour, so why did they peel the curtains back like they were sneaking a peek…?
Before he could figure it out, Gu Fei had tossed his phone onto the table and jumped to his feet.
“Huh?” Jiang Cheng said blankly, still holding his phone up as he watched Gu Fei rush out to…catch a thief?
Normally, he didn’t shove his nose where it didn’t belong—he’d probably have no trouble living to a hundred and three—but he was at Gu Fei’s place right now. Since Gu Fei had run out, he couldn’t possibly stay seated. He rose to follow.
He thought of telling Gu Miao to stay put, but when he looked down, she was eating with her head bowed as if nothing was going on.
“I’m going to have a look,” he told her, then turned and sprinted out.
The moment he set foot outside the store, he saw Gu Fei grasping the collar of a man who was frantically trying to break free.
The glow from the shabby streetlamp obfuscated more than it illuminated.
All he could tell was that the man was roughly thirty years old, dressed in a trashy leather jacket, with pants stuck so tightly to his slender legs that they looked like a pair of toothpicks—it was an off-putting sight.
“What are you doing?! Let go!” The man was desperately grappling with Gu Fei’s hand, but he was clearly no match for him, neither in height nor strength. Though he flailed for quite some time, Gu Fei didn’t even budge. All the man could do was yell again, “Let me go!”
“Didn’t I tell you not to let me see your face again?” Gu Fei asked, his voice low.
“Who do you think you are? What do I care what you say? So what if you did?” The man stuck his face provokingly close to Gu Fei’s. “I’m here right now. You see me, don’t you? Well, now what? You—” But before he could tack another question onto his existing stream of questions, Gu Fei grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and flung him against a tree. The man slammed against the tree trunk face-first, as if he weighed no more than a rag doll.
BANG!
Jiang Cheng felt his eyes widen like saucers at the sound. He never knew the impact of a human body striking wood could make such a loud noise.
After the bang, the world fell silent.
The man stayed upright against the tree for two seconds, then slipped slowly down to his knees before tipping to the side, falling flat and motionless.
“Holy fuck!” Jiang Cheng took two steps in his direction. Was he dead?
He stared for a while, but the man didn’t move. Jiang Cheng turned to look at Gu Fei, dumbstruck for a long moment.
The man was thin and not very tall, but he was still a grown man. And Gu Fei threw him against a tree with just one swing of his arm—even a slow-motion replay of it would last two or three seconds at the most… Jiang Cheng felt a sudden chill run down his spine. With moves like that, it was entirely plausible that Gu Fei could have killed someone before.
“Get inside.” Gu Fei glanced at him, then started walking back to the store. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Who was that?” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, having recovered his wits.
“You’re just going to leave him there? What if he freezes to death?”
“Then I’ll just kill you.” Gu Fei laughed. “No witnesses that way.”
[10] Term of address for an older sister, or a woman close enough to be referred to as a sister.
[11] Reference to a nursery rhyme where the Big Bad Wolf sings, “Good Little Bunny, open the door, hurry and open up, I want to come in,” and the Good Little Bunny answers, “No, no, no, I won’t open the door. Mommy hasn’t come home. I won’t open for anyone.”