Chapter 15
IT WAS A LAW OF THE UNIVERSE that if you ran into a red light, you’d get red lights the entire way. It didn’t matter whether you sped up or slowed down— they’d still be red.
They should’ve added a second part: If you embarrass yourself in front of someone, you’ll always embarrass yourself whenever you see him. No matter how impossible you’d think it would be, or how carefully you tried to avoid it, your dignity just didn’t belong to you.
Take now, for instance: Five minutes ago, Gu Fei had been pointing at his mother, on the verge of violence. But now, he was standing on the sidewalk, almost as if the gods had put him there right in time to watch Jiang Cheng disgrace himself.
Jiang Cheng’s flight was exceedingly short, but the human brain was capable of running through multiple clear thoughts in one brief moment. For example, he observed that Gu Fei was in a dreadful mood. His expression alone said his chest was filled with twenty-five pounds of explosives, ready to blow at any second. Another example: He determined that falling from this angle meant knocking straight into an extremely pissed-off Gu Fei.
Example three: He understood that his momentum would make for a forceful impact, and he was probably going to knock Gu Fei over.
And fourth: He knew he had to put his hand to one side immediately, or else, when they made contact, the freshly scabbed wound on his palm would split open instantly from the pressure.
In any case, when he opened his arms and flew toward Gu Fei like he was charging toward the sun, the look on Gu Fei’s face was incomprehensible.
Jiang Cheng finally bowled solidly into Gu Fei with a thwack. The other day, he’d learned how loud the sound of a body slamming against a tree could be; today, he discovered that a body slamming into another body could ring out just as loudly.
First his forehead smashed into Gu Fei’s clavicle, then his mouth smashed against something else—he felt his teeth close around a zipper or something.
After that, he couldn’t tell what was happening or in what order. Various parts of his body struck Gu Fei at various speeds.
Gu Fei didn’t even stagger. He simply tipped over and tumbled backward to the ground, followed swiftly by Jiang Cheng. He couldn’t tell whether anything hurt when he crashed into Gu Fei, but falling to the ground didn’t really hurt at all. Gu Fei wasn’t fat, but he still made a good cushion.
When they landed on the ground, Jiang Cheng could almost see a cloud of snow puff up around them. He realized several seconds later that it was his imagination: There was no snow under Gu Fei, just the stone of the sidewalk.
Both of them were dazed. When Jiang Cheng heard Gu Fei mutter, “Holy fuck,” he finally collected himself.
He braced himself with his uninjured left hand, trying to get up as quickly as he could. “Sorr—” But his hand also had a bad sense of direction and braced against Gu Fei’s ribcage instead.
“Fuck!” Gu Fei swore in pain. “Are you a fucking idiot?!”
To tell the truth, Jiang Cheng was in a terrible mood himself. The glimpse of joy that skateboarding with Gu Miao had brought him was a salve, not a cure.
The simple fact that he had to occupy himself by skateboarding with a schoolkid late at night was a miserable thought in and of itself.
Now, with Gu Fei cursing at him, he was a little disgruntled. But at the end of the day, he was the one who crashed into Gu Fei. It wasn’t a light knock, either; he could see that Gu Fei’s jacket had lost a zipper slider.
“Get the fuck off me!” Gu Fei raised his arm and swung at him.
“Fuck your uncle, I didn’t fucking mean to!” Jiang Cheng felt his teeth ache as he spoke. There was something in his mouth. He turned and spat: Half a zipper slider came out.
Clink.
Crisp and clear.
Hearing this, he suddenly felt pain burst in his mouth. Jiang Cheng couldn’t bring himself to imagine how he’d managed to gnaw off a zipper slider;
he couldn’t even bring himself to lick his front teeth and check if they were still there.
“It’s not easy being a show-off, so stop bringing a whole fucking stage with you everywhere you go!” Gu Fei’s face was full of rage; his fall must not have been light. He shoved Jiang Cheng violently. “Overachiever!”
Jiang Cheng was thrown back on his ass and instantly felt his temper ignite. “Fuck you! Just try and hit me again!”
Gu Fei didn’t even look at him as he launched a kick straight to his stomach. In that moment, Jiang Cheng felt everything else in the world disappear; the only thing left was this fucker Gu Fei in front of him. He bounced back to his feet and kicked Gu Fei in return.
Gu Fei quickly dodged, so he missed, but he chased after him without missing a beat and landed a foot on Gu Fei’s back.
“Fuck!” Gu Fei grabbed Jiang Cheng’s calf and yanked.
Jiang Cheng fell back down, but he didn’t forget to throw his other foot at Gu Fei’s face. Gu Fei blocked it with his arm, then flipped over and straddled Jiang Cheng, aiming a fist at his face.
Motherfucker! This guy wasn’t pulling his punches!
Son of a bitch!
Jiang Cheng saw a stream of golden sparks flicker in front of his left eye like a little train. He had no time for anything else; he lifted his hand and pushed Gu Fei’s chin up, hard. Gu Fei leaned backward.
Seizing his chance, he tried to elbow Gu Fei in the ribs…and failed, because Gu Fei reacted instantly and caught his wrist.
His next move took Jiang Cheng completely by surprise: The bastard pressed his finger straight into the wound on Jiang Cheng’s palm.
“Aaaagh!” Jiang Cheng hollered.
It was like a switch had flipped in him—Jiang Cheng abruptly drew his leg up and slammed a knee into Gu Fei’s back. Gu Fei fell forward, his hands bracing either side of Jiang Cheng’s head.
Dirty tricks? Toddler tricks? Fine! Jiang Cheng turned and bit Gu Fei’s wrist.
“Aarghh!” Gu Fei yelped in pain.
Jiang Cheng kept biting and wouldn’t let go. Gu Fei hurriedly pinched his cheek. The fucking bastard had a strong grip; Jiang Cheng’s cheek hurt so badly that he thought it must be pierced through. But at least now he could tell his front teeth were still there—and they were still pretty sturdy, too.
As the fight continued to escalate in an increasingly ludicrous fashion, the both of them inseparably entwined on the ground, a voice came from close by.
“Gu Fei?”
The two of them were too absorbed in their squabble; they both heard the voice, but neither of them diverted an iota of their concentration away from pummeling each other with earnest devotion.
“Gu Fei!” the person yelled, then paused before shouting, “Jiang Cheng?
Why are you… Get up! Both of you, get up!”
Jiang Cheng had known from the first shout that it was Lao-Xu, but he had no time to be surprised or wonder why their teacher had suddenly appeared.
“Stop, both of you!” Lao-Xu walked up and gave them each a kick. “What are you doing?! Have you really got that much time on your hands?!”
At last, they both stopped.
But they only stopped moving. It was like pressing pause: Both of them still held their combat positions. One of Gu Fei’s hands gripped Jiang Cheng’s collar, while his other hand was in Jiang Cheng’s grasp. They stayed exactly where they were, half-kneeling, half-bracing against the ground, neither one daring to let go so easily. Since their fight had devolved into pressing palms and biting wrists, neither of them trusted that his opponent didn’t have more kindergartener tricks up his sleeve.
“Let go!” Lao-Xu came over and yanked on their arms. With great effort, he finally pulled them apart.
“What’s all this?!” Lao-Xu glared at Gu Fei. “How could you beat up your own deskmate?!”
“Was it just me beating him up?” Gu Fei raised a hand and wiped at the corner of his mouth. “Are you blind?”
Lao-Xu wasn’t bothered by Gu Fei’s fiery words. He turned to look at Jiang Cheng. “And what’s wrong with you?! What’s a good kid like you doing;
getting into a fight as soon as you get here?”
“I told you.” Jiang Cheng shook his wrist out. His palm didn’t hurt—it was already numb. “Don’t judge someone by their grades. No teacher has ever called me a good kid.”
Lao-Xu heaved a big sigh. He pointed across the road and said to Gu Fei, “Isn’t that your sister? Look how you’ve scared the little girl!”
It was only then that Jiang Cheng remembered Gu Miao still standing to one side. Suddenly disquieted, he turned to look and was taken aback. Gu Miao sat alone on a stone bench across the street, one hand cupping her cheek as she watched them calmly. Or perhaps it wasn’t calm, but apathy—total disinterest.
“She’s not scared of fights,” said Gu Fei.
Jiang Cheng stayed quiet. Gu Miao was a bit odd, that was certain… When he hurt his hand, Gu Fei had carefully hidden it from Gu Miao’s view, so she was probably afraid of blood. But now, he and Gu Fei had blasted this whole area clean in their skirmish and her face was blank. Jiang Cheng thought of the time Gu Fei threw the man against the tree. She didn’t even lift her head, then;
she’d just kept eating.
What’s wrong with this little girl?
“Clean up.” Realizing he wasn’t getting any answers from either of them, Lao-Xu simply pointed at the school bag on the ground. “I’m here to pay a home visit, so first, let’s talk about your fight.”
A home visit? Jiang Cheng was taken aback. A homeroom teacher making a home visit in the biting northern wind, at nine o’clock in the evening… He really didn’t know what to say to that.
“Whose home?” Gu Fei straightened his clothes. When he looked down to pull his zipper up, he found the zipper slider missing. He turned and glanced at Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng met his eyes with a dirty look. Yeah, I fucking ate it! So what?!
“I walked all the way here. Whose home do you think?” Lao-Xu sighed.
“Yours, of course.”
Gu Fei fell silent for a moment, then turned to walk back. “Let’s go, then.”
“Wait.” Lao-Xu probably didn’t expect him to act so decisively. “I still have to find out why you were fighting.”
“We were bored.” Gu Fei looked back at him. “You coming or not?”
Lao-Xu didn’t quite know what to do first; whether he should visit Gu Fei’s family or settle the matter of their fight. He took one step forward, then stopped, then stepped backward, then paused and stepped forward again. Jiang Cheng was tempted to clap in time with him.
“I’m heading back,” Jiang Cheng said. “Thanks, Xu-zong.”
Before Lao-Xu could speak, Jiang Cheng spun around and walked down the block. Behind him, Gu Fei whistled. Jiang Cheng didn’t look back—he figured he was summoning Gu Miao. Sure enough, he immediately heard the sound of Gu Miao’s skateboard rolling.
He sighed quietly. Tonight had been so…satisfying.
Li Baoguo’s mahjong crew was still there, but since they’d spent so much of their lives stewing at the mahjong table, all that existed to them was that square yard before their eyes. No curiosity or desire for gossip could win against those tiles shooting back and forth. After the brief cross-examination at lunchtime, Jiang Cheng disappeared from their field of vision. Even when he walked in and out of the living room, nobody gave him a second look except Li Baoguo.
“Home already?” he said. “We had takeout. Do you want anything to eat?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
Jiang Cheng went to his room and took his jacket off. It was covered in dust and torn in two different places. Shit. He frowned. I just bought this today!
He doubted his face looked much better. Walking around the room, he discovered that there wasn’t even a mirror in here. He had to take his phone out and try to turn it on. Warmed up from its owner’s exercise in the snow, the phone finally lit up.
Jiang Cheng pointed the camera at his face. There was a lump on his forehead, but it wasn’t serious. His lower lip was slightly torn—maybe from Gu Fei’s zipper. Everywhere else was fine, apart from some grazes.
He sighed, unsure how he felt now. The fight was a bit…messy. He didn’t normally fight like that—like a pig in the mud. It was more venting anger than actual fighting.
Jiang Cheng didn’t know what he wanted out of a fight with Gu Fei—he just wanted to lash out, to tear into someone, to pitch himself forward and break free from the chains on his body that he couldn’t see, touch, or understand.
As for Gu Fei, maybe he’d been influenced by Jiang Cheng. Why else would someone who could throw a grown man with one hand resort to rolling artlessly on the ground, even pinching his palm like that? Fuck! Why hadn’t his lackeys been there to see that?!
Hey, did you know your boss is a worm?!
Jiang Cheng looked down at his hand, where blood was already seeping out of the gauze. He rifled through his backpack for the supplies he’d gotten from the community clinic today. Thankfully, they weren’t damaged.
He opened the bandage and, with some difficulty, washed and disinfected his right hand with his left. His left hand was clumsy, so he ended up poking himself in his wound a couple of times; it hurt so much that tears almost ran down his face. He wanted to cry, actually. He’d always thought crying was pointless, but ever since he got here in winter break, he occasionally felt so bottled up that he wanted to cry it all out.
Someday, he thought, he’d have to find a deserted corner just to let loose and give himself a good, violent cry.
When he got up the next morning, the mahjong game was finally over.
There were two men sleeping on the living room couch, and Li Baoguo snored thunderously in his bed. After washing up, Jiang Cheng took his backpack and dashed right out the door, unwilling to stay for a second longer.
Before he even reached school, he got another call from the logistics company. “It’s been three days. Last day is tomorrow, or we’ll start charging for storage!”
“Do you deliver?” Jiang Cheng sighed.
“Sure, two hundred to your building,” came the answer. “Extra charge to go upstairs.”
Jiang Cheng was quiet for a moment, wincing at the cost. He was rather appreciative of his newfound financial awareness.
“I think you’d better pick it up yourself.” The caller was quite considerate.
“There are a lot of trishaws around here. Hiring one to your place only costs about a hundred.”
“Got it, thanks,” Jiang Cheng said.
It was Saturday tomorrow, thank goodness. Still, it worried him a little.
His bedroom could barely hold a bed and a closet—even his desk was a tight fit.
He didn’t know how he was going to put his stuff in there when he brought it back… But maybe his mom didn’t pack everything, so it wouldn’t be too much?
He walked into the classroom with a mask over his face. The swelling on his forehead was slightly better, and his hair hid half of it, anyway. He wasn’t wearing Gu Fei’s clothes today, so nobody noticed anything off about him the whole way to his seat.
He didn’t know what Lao-Xu said to Gu Fei during that home visit yesterday, but miraculously, Gu Fei came in before the bell for morning self-study. Jiang Cheng lifted his eyes to peek at him, then froze. Aside from a scratch to the side of his chin, Gu Fei’s face was unblemished. But what really shocked him was that the bastard had glasses on.
The fuck?! Acting like a good student?! Jiang Cheng scowled at him.
The funny thing was that nobody seemed surprised to see Gu Fei like that.
Did this mean that…he wore glasses often? He thought of Pan Zhi. Pan Zhi was a bit near-sighted, but firmly refused to wear glasses.
“How could someone with my grades have the nerve to wear them?!” Pan Zhi had said. “I’d rather be blind!”
Pan Zhi is honorable, Jiang Cheng thought. And Pan Zhi even owned more than one pen…
Gu Fei walked over and tossed a plastic bag on the desk in front of him, then sat down. Jiang Cheng opened it to find both his sweater and his homework inside.
Shit! His homework! He’d forgotten to take his homework back after the fight yesterday. He’d let Gu Fei copy his homework after brawling with him!
How fucked up was that?
“The swelling hasn’t gone down yet?” Gu Fei asked.
Jiang Cheng turned and eyed Gu Fei, trying and failing to tell if his tone was apologetic or gleeful. Gu Fei said it without any affectation, as if he was merely stating the day of the week.
So Jiang Cheng didn’t respond.
“Da-Fei.” Zhou Jing leaned back against their desk. “Da-Fei!”
Gu Fei pushed his glasses up and looked at him.
“Da-Fei?” Zhou Jing turned. “Hey, Da-Fei…” Gu Fei slapped the back of his head.
“Why didn’t you come yesterday? Were you off traveling somewhere?”
Zhou Jing asked, rubbing his head.
“No,” Gu Fei said.
“I thought you skipped class to go on vacation, like last semester.”
Gu Fei sighed and looked at him. “Would you skip one day of class for a vacation?”
“…True, one day isn’t enough. Hey, are you—” “Fuck off,” Gu Fei curtly ended the conversation.
Today’s lessons were no different from the previous days; the teachers talked to themselves, the students played by themselves, and all was harmonious.
Gu Fei was the same as usual, too. He first played his stupid Aixiaochu, then, probably having run out of lives, put on his headphones and began watching videos.
Jiang Cheng couldn’t resist sneaking a few looks at his face. As long as you didn’t look in his eyes, Gu Fei gave off a serene air. His clothes were very comfortable, both in style and color, and with glasses on, he really did look like a capital-R Real overachiever.
Jiang Cheng was somewhat shaken by the peculiar mix of characteristics in this one person.
After multiple glances, he finally returned his attention to the teacher. No matter how bad their lectures were, no matter whether he was half asleep at his desk, he had to listen when they mentioned the important points.
Jiang Cheng never claimed to be the kind of student who aced tests without studying. He was aware of how much time he needed to spend on his studies. In fact, his current learning environment and the indifferent atmosphere his peers provided made him rather anxious. At his old school he’d never cared much about his grades, but he absolutely refused to let them be dragged down as a result of transferring to Fourth High.
The final period was English. Lao-Lu lectured passionately—maybe because it was almost the weekend and he wanted to shout the whole classroom of sleepyheads awake. Jiang Cheng slumped over his desk and took notes earnestly.
“Let’s talk about the homework you handed in today!” Right before ending his lesson, Lao-Lu slapped his desk. “You could run an exhibition with your homework! Call it ‘One Hundred Ways to Mess Up a Simple Assignment!’” “Our class doesn’t have a hundred people,” Wang Xu replied.
The class burst into laughter.
“You! Wang Jiuri!”(14) Lao-Lu pointed his pointing stick at him. “You’re about as useful as cardboard candy! If all of humanity’s organ functions started deteriorating, you’d still be left with your mouth!”
Wang Xu pushed his desk in displeasure.
“Don’t like that? Come to my office after class!” Lao-Lu bellowed. Before Wang Xu could respond, Lao-Lu’s pointer turned in Jiang Cheng’s direction, jabbing as he did so. “Gu Fei!”
Gu Fei looked up. “Here.”
“What the hell is wrong with you, huh?! You copied your homework, didn’t you? Didn’t you?!” Lao-Lu said in one breath. “Did you copy it? Tell me if you copied it! Did you or didn’t you?”
Gu Fei waited in vain for a moment to answer.
“If you’re copying, could you at least use your brain?! Huh?!” Lao-Lu hit the lectern. “Not a single question wrong! Not a single one! Let’s hear it! Who did you copy from?!”
This time, he gave Gu Fei room to reply. Gu Fei was silent for a moment, then lifted a finger and pointed at Zhou Jing. “Him.”
“Zhou Jing!” Lao-Lu roared immediately, pointing at him. “How very noble of you! I’ll mention how helpful you are in your report card comments this semester, how about that?!”
Zhou Jing jumped in fright and turned to see Gu Fei pointing at him. He opened his mouth but didn’t say a word.
Lao-Lu picked up their homework and continued to berate them until class ended. He waved his pointer, stuck it under his arm, and walked out of the classroom.
“Damn.” Zhou Jing turned. “Whose did you copy?”
Gu Fei looked at him without a word.
Zhou Jing paused for a moment before rising. “Fine, whatever.”
After Zhou Jing left, Jiang Cheng looked at Gu Fei, unsure what to say.
“Er-Miao will be waiting at the school gate soon,” Gu Fei said as he packed his bag. “Why don’t you walk with her?”
“Huh?” Jiang Cheng was perplexed. “I just fought with her big brother. I don’t want to walk with her.”
“I dare you not to,” said Gu Fei.
“Fine, fuck.” Jiang Cheng felt his temper flare. “I won’t.”
Gu Fei was quiet. After a few moments, he took a deep breath. “Do me a favor. Please.”
Jiang Cheng suddenly felt gratified. “Wow, was that so hard?”
“Sure was,” Gu Fei said.
[14] Xu [旭] is made up of the characters jiu [九], nine and ri [⽇], sun. It’s like referring to Frank Pentangeli as “Frankie Five-Angels.”