Chen Yu Luo Yan. (Sinking Fish and Falling Geese / Devastatingly Beautiful)
Chen Jian, what on earth were you thinking when you picked a handle like that back then?
How does it feel to have it called out to your face now?
It was even more uncomfortable than having his dean point at him from the rostrum in front of the whole school, saying, “That guy who broke his arm jumping over the wall.”
Chen Jian looked at Shan Yu, rendered somewhat speechless. Hearing it face-to-face packed even more of a wallop than over the phone. His only saving grace was that Shan Yu hadn’t called him that downstairs in front of everyone.
Though that was hard to say for sure—the guy might very well call him that right in front of thirty Joyful Beans at tonight’s mixer.
“You…” Chen Jian looked at him, unsure if he should drop a hint.
“Go eat,” Shan Yu smiled and sat back down in his chair. Giving a light push with his leg, he slid over to the mini-fridge, opened the door, pulled out a bottle of coconut water, and unscrewed it. “I won’t call you ‘Chen Yu Luo Yan’ in front of people.”
“If you’re going to call me that in private,” Chen Jian looked at him, “you might as well just call me Curly.”
“Hey, don’t make me choke,” Shan Yu, who had been about to take a sip, paused at those words. He smiled, screwed the cap back on, and said, “Go get dinner, Manager Chen.”
Chen Jian walked over, picked up the bowl Shan Yu used for his medicine, thought for a moment, and asked, “Are you joining Liu Wu and the others for that mixer tonight?”
“Yeah,” Shan Yu replied. “Might as well join the fun. He even used you to hoodwink me—it’d make him look too stupid if I didn’t agree.”
Chen Jian let out a faint smile.
“Go hang out for a bit,” Shan Yu said. “If it feels too noisy, just leave. It’s nothing more than playing a few silly little games.”
“I’ve never played those before,” Chen Jian said.
“You went to high school after all,” Shan Yu said. “Didn’t you guys have gatherings back in high school?”
“I rarely went,” Chen Jian said.
“Just spent all your time climbing over walls and playing truant, huh.” Shan Yu unscrewed the cap again and took a sip.
Looking at Shan Yu’s current state, Chen Jian really couldn’t fathom how he could tell at a single glance that the medicine in Room 102 was an antidepressant.
“Is there anything you want to eat?” Chen Jian asked.
“Chinese food,” Shan Yu said.
Chen Jian smiled, and just as he was about to speak, Shan Yu added, “No lamb rice noodles.”
“The lamb rice noodles from that other shop taste better than hers,” Chen Jian said.
“I’ll try those another time,” Shan Yu said. “Today I want Chinese food with rice.”
“Okay.” Chen Jian nodded.
Chen Jian went to the dorm, where Sanbing was currently trying to persuade Chen Erhu to go out to dinner with them.
“Don’t wanna eat,” Chen Erhu said, lying on the bed.
“Just eat a few bites,” Sanbing said. “You need nutrition for your injury to recover, too.”
“Can’t swallow,” Chen Erhu grunted in a muffled voice. To demonstrate his resolve, he laid himself out completely stiff.
Sanbing wanted to keep persuading him: “But…”
“He can’t open his mouth, right?” Chen Jian said, standing by the doorway.
“Screw you,” Chen Erhu glared at him. Because he couldn’t open his mouth, those words effortlessly came out with a teeth-gritting edge.
“Bring something back for you to eat slowly? What about noodles or something?” Chen Jian asked.
“…Mm,” Chen Erhu hesitated for a second before agreeing.
“Let’s go,” Chen Jian gestured to Sanbing with a tilt of his head and turned to leave the dorm.
The Joyful Beans shared a certain characteristic: whenever there were enough of them together, socially anxious Beans practically ceased to exist. They would rapidly transform any space into a massive party scene.
Right now was dinner time. The guesthouse kitchen had been borrowed by the Joyful Beans, so the food provided to other guests needing to eat in-house was limited to quick, light meals. But the Beans quickly included everyone into their dinner scope, warmly inviting the other guests to join them.
Most of the guests were young people anyway; several couples joined in right away, preparing dinner together.
“If you had gone to college,” Sanbing looked at the lively restaurant on the first floor, “would you be like this too?”
“Like what?” Chen Jian asked.
“Just happily goofing around all day,” Lao Wu said.
“You’re happily goofing around all day right now too,” Chen Jian said. “No need to go to any college for that.”
“Always picking on me!” Lao Wu complained, thoroughly unconvinced.
“It really is pretty joyful, though,” Sanbing pondered. “Look at them—they argue too, and they complain when they come back from hiking or climbing, but at their core, they’re relaxed.”
“I’m pretty envious,” Lao Wu said.
“Who wouldn’t be?” Sanbing said.
Chen Jian glanced over at the restaurant once more.
In the past, he probably would have been envious too, but he never let himself dwell on such feelings. The more he thought, the more painful it got.
Better to think about dinner instead.
Eating with Sanbing and Lao Wu went very quickly. Both of them were preoccupied with tonight’s mixer. Getting to participate in an activity organized by college students gave them a sense of novelty and satisfaction that far surpassed following Chen Erhu to someone else’s guesthouse courtyard to play cards, only to get whacked in the face with a crutch by the owner.
The three of them quickly finished their meal and ordered a topped rice box for Shan Yu. Beef noodles would require crossing the street, which would take too long, so they packed a bowl of wontons for Chen Erhu from a place on this side of the street and hurried back to the guesthouse.
To avoid disturbing other guests’ evening rest, Liu Wu and his group’s activity started at eight o’clock and had to wrap up before eleven. Although the conference room was located at the very end of the first floor and had soundproofing, it had to be said that the Joyful Beans were quite conscientious.
“Aren’t you going?” Shan Yu sat on the sofa, opening the meal box. “It’s about to start.”
“Hu Pan, Sanbing, and the others all went. Chen Erhu is the only one guarding the front desk right now,” Chen Jian said. “Zhao-jie is accompanying her daughter with her homework in the dorm. If anything comes up in a bit, is Chen Erhu supposed to go meet the guests with that head of his?”
“Liar,” Shan Yu said.
“What?” Chen Jian was taken aback.
“I said that on Liu Wu’s behalf,” Shan Yu said.
Chen Jian smiled faintly. “Didn’t you stay behind too?”
“I didn’t go because he said you were going, but you didn’t go, so I didn’t go,” Shan Yu said, then picked up his meal box and began eating.
“Well, my reason is the same then,” Chen Jian said. “I’ll go do a quick round first.”
The guesthouse was fairly quiet. The guests who went to view the Milky Way had already set off, while the few remaining in the building had likely gone to join the activity.
Chen Jian strolled from the fourth floor down to the first, then took a lap around the courtyard. When he passed Room 102, the curtains were still drawn back, but nobody was inside. Just as Chen Jian was starting to feel a bit anxious, a voice greeted him from the shadowy corner: “Manager out on patrol?”
“Mm,” Chen Jian answered out of reflex before clearly seeing the guy from 102 sitting at the stone table.
“You didn’t go to their activity?” 102 asked.
“Later,” Chen Jian looked at him. “Do you want to go join in the fun?”
“I’ve had enough excitement for today,” 102 said. “I’m sleepy. I’ll go to sleep in a bit.”
“Then you…” Chen Jian nodded. “Get some good rest.”
Circling back to the front desk, he found Chen Erhu sitting alone, staring blankly into space.
Chen Jian originally wanted to make small talk and ask if he wanted to go hang out in the conference room, but he checked himself in time upon seeing the bandages on Erhu’s head.
“Go ahead,” Chen Erhu said. “Nothing much going on here. Just took two calls—one asked to check if her shawl was left in the room, and the other asked if there were late-night snacks tonight.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian acknowledged.
The activity had already been underway for over half an hour. Standing in the first-floor hallway, one could hear laughter and noise coming from the conference room.
Chen Jian stood there for a few seconds before turning around to press the elevator button.
He really hadn’t participated in many group activities. Back in school, he had wanted to leave even during class time; as for group activities that took place after hours, he certainly wouldn’t spend time attending those.
Looking at the conference room door, he actually felt a moment of hesitation.
Subconsciously, he wanted to head upstairs first to see if Shan Yu had gone.
Part of him did want to go—not necessarily to join in, but just to watch and soak up the atmosphere. Yet faced with such a noisy, cheerful scene, he felt an instinctive resistance toward a world that had nothing to do with him.
He could imagine how happy Sanbing and Hu Pan were, but he couldn’t picture what state he himself would be in.
For some reason, at times like this, he felt that if Shan Yu were there, he would feel at ease. When floating outside of all the excitement, Shan Yu was like the anchor that gave him a sense of reality.
…What are you thinking about?
Chen Jian knitted his brows.
Dazing off, he lost his train of thought.
When the elevator doors opened, he didn’t move, staring blankly outside.
It was only when the elevator doors closed that he startled, hurriedly reaching out to mash the open button several times.
The office door wasn’t left ajar as usual; it was closed.
Chen Jian paused, but still raised his hand and knocked twice on the door.
There was no sound from inside.
Refusing to give up, he knocked a few more times.
“Boss Shan?” he called out, continuing to knock. “Shan Yu?”
Did he go hang himself?
He turned around and went down to the third floor. The lights in the gym were on, and he instantly let out a sigh of relief. As he walked inside, he blurted out: “I thought you…”
“Huh? Manager?” Zhao Fangfang sat on an exercise bench, looking at him.
Beside her, her daughter was lying upside down on a yoga ball, looking at him: “Hello, Manager.”
“Ah, hello,” Chen Jian immediately felt a bit awkward. “Are you working out?”
“I’m bending my waist,” the little girl said with a smile.
“Be careful not to get hurt,” Chen Jian said.
“Didn’t you go play in the conference room?” Zhao Fangfang said. “They all went—even Boss Shan went.”
“Boss Shan went too?” Chen Jian was stunned.
“Yep!” the little girl said. “We went downstairs together with him. He went to the first floor.”
“You should go too,” Zhao Fangfang said. “Go have fun. You don’t usually play much anyway. They’re all young people—it’s nice to play together.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian smiled faintly.
Standing at the conference room doorway, the lively sounds inside could be heard quite clearly. The instant Chen Jian pushed open the door, bursts of laughter, cheerful chatter, and swaying figures washed over his face.
For a moment, he felt a wave of dizziness.
“The Manager is here!” someone shouted—likely one of the Joy Girl Beans.
“Mm,” Chen Jian smiled, reaching back to shut the door.
Everyone was playing a game right now, though he couldn’t tell what kind. Liu Wu was wearing a blindfold over his eyes while piggybacking Hu Pan, stumbling forward alongside several other Joyful Beans in similar postures.
“Veering off, veering off!” Holding a long pair of tongs in one hand, Hu Pan grabbed Liu Wu’s ear with the other to adjust his direction, seemingly trying to pick up several balloons scattered on the ground ahead.
Beside them, Lao Si was piggybacking Sanbing, wobbling around erratically while Sanbing directly grabbed Lao Si’s chin to steer his direction.
Another pair of Joyful Beans had already tumbled blindly toward the crowd, sending the whole room into roars of laughter and shouts.
Chen Jian scanned the crowd. The room was packed with people, but he couldn’t spot Shan Yu anywhere.
Just as he was thinking of finding a random corner to hang out in for a bit before leaving, he heard a short whistle.
The sound wasn’t particularly prominent amidst the laughter and noise, but Chen Jian was all too familiar with it.
Following the sound, he looked over. Shan Yu was leaning back on a sofa in the corner, smiling at him.
He really had come.
Chen Jian walked over quickly toward Shan Yu. Midway there, a Joyful Bean thrust a bag of potato chips into his hands. He took it: “Thanks.”
By the time he turned his head back, he couldn’t even tell who had shoved it into his hands.
Shan Yu pointed behind him.
“Hmm?” He glanced back. Behind him was a table stacked high with snacks and drinks.
After a quick glance, he grabbed a bottle of Coke for Shan Yu and a bottle of iced tea for himself.
“I want that one.” Shan Yu took the iced tea.
“You’re not drinking Coke anymore?” Chen Jian asked.
“Nope,” Shan Yu nodded, shifting slightly to make room.
“Is it because there are no cups?” Chen Jian sat down.
The sofa was a two-seater left behind from Qian Yu’s time. It was a bit old, sinking toward the middle when sat on.
The moment Chen Jian sat down, his entire body tilted toward Shan Yu, asking that question almost right up against his face.
Shan Yu looked at him, raising an eyebrow: “What, if I don’t drink Coke because there’s no cup, are you gonna hit me?”
“This sofa…” Chen Jian struggled to lean back toward the side, resting his back against the cushion so he wouldn’t keep sliding into the middle.
“I thought you really weren’t coming,” Shan Yu leaned comfortably against the sofa, without moving an inch.
“I didn’t expect you to actually come either,” Chen Jian said. “I even went up to the office to look for you.”
“If I promised to come, of course I’d come,” Shan Yu took a sip of the iced tea. “Wanna go join the game?”
“Probably not,” Chen Jian glanced at Liu Wu, who was being yanked by the ears while bent over chasing balloons all over the floor. “Liu Wu’s stamina is pretty good…”
“Depends on who he’s carrying,” Shan Yu curled his lips slightly.
Chen Jian smiled without speaking.
That much he could tell—besides Liu Wu, Sanbing had a pretty big crush on Hu Pan too.
He glanced at Sanbing; the kid was really going all out. It felt like if this went on for a few more minutes, Lao Si’s head was going to get twisted off by him.
With the loud pop of a balloon bursting, the crowd erupted into cheers. Hu Pan raised the tongs in her hand, laughing merrily.
“Tsk,” Shan Yu tapped his bottle. “Hurry down after winning—Lao Si’s cervical spine is about to grow bone spurs from being twisted like that.”
Chen Jian couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“Good thing Liu Wu is leaving tomorrow,” Shan Yu said.
“What would happen if he didn’t leave?” Chen Jian asked with a smile. “They’d get into a fight?”
“Don’t underestimate jealousy,” Shan Yu stretched out his legs, resting his arms comfortably behind his head.
Chen Jian glanced at his leg: “Stretch out the right leg. In case someone steps on it without seeing, don’t keep picking on that one leg.”
“Jinxing me,” Shan Yu said. “I’m going for a re-examination next week. If it can be removed, I’ll have it taken off.”
“Has it been three months?” Chen Jian asked.
“I can walk now. I can walk even without crutches,” Shan Yu said.
“Listen to the doctor,” Chen Jian said.
“Once I take off the frame, you’ll be relieved of a lot of work,” Shan Yu tapped his fingers against the bottle one after another. “At least you won’t have to do the job of waiting on me hand and foot.”
Chen Jian remained silent.
“What,” Shan Yu tilted his head slightly, “hurts your heart to lose the extra pay?”
“How about I just dismantle it for you right now,” Chen Jian said. “Is it your heart hurting from spending money?”
“Did you drink alcohol?” Shan Yu burst out laughing.
The game of “the blind leading the lame” came to an end. Amidst the chaotic hubbub, the host dutifully chimed in with transition lines, though it was impossible to hear clearly what was being said. At any rate, the next game was about to start, and the crowd—eating while moving around—all broke into applause.
Next came the messy process of splitting into teams. During this process, it became glaringly obvious who liked whom, who didn’t want to be grouped with whom, who was a couple, and who was an unconfessed pair…
Shan Yu stopped talking, seemingly detaching himself suddenly from his previous state, resting quietly against the sofa while watching the crowd before them.
Chen Jian didn’t make a sound either.
His gaze slowly drifted over these people.
So genuinely happy. It felt like they were getting tired from laughing so much.
Normally, he wouldn’t be able to stay long in a scene like this before wanting to leave, feeling like his brain was throbbing.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Shan Yu. Shan Yu might genuinely enjoy being around crowds and excitement. It had been the same back when they went out to eat with Chen Erhu and his crew—enjoying that sense of superiority when facing smooth brains… Of course, right now this was a group of outstanding top-tier Joyful Beans whose brains were undoubtedly full of deep sulci and gyri…
Perhaps it really was because Shan Yu was right beside him, but Chen Jian realized that the faint unease he usually felt when facing “another world” had vanished at some point without him noticing. He could actually sit here comfortably, letting his mind wander through a jumble of random thoughts.
“Manager!” someone called out to him. “Chen Jian!”
“Huh?” Chen Jian snapped back to reality, sitting up straight at once.
“Come on!” Hu Pan waved at him. “Boss Shan too! Together, hurry!”
“For what?” Chen Jian felt a bit lost. He had drifted off a bit too far just now, only realizing at this moment that the previous game had already ended.
“Did you fall asleep?” Shan Yu asked from the side.
“No.” Chen Jian looked back; Shan Yu was still leaning lazily against the sofa.
“Go play the game,” Shan Yu gave him a gentle push on his back. “Everyone’s going.”
“What game?” Chen Jian stood up.
“…Charades,” Shan Yu also stood up, asking in a low voice behind his ear, “What were you thinking about just now?”
“Nothing,” Chen Jian said. He really couldn’t recall off the top of his head what he had been pondering.
The game they were playing now was Charades, divided into three teams: two teams of Beans, and one team consisting of Dayin staff plus a few Beans. So both Chen Jian and Shan Yu had to participate.
To make sure everyone could get involved, each team was split into pairs to take turns guessing—whichever team got the most right would win.
Calculated this way, each person only needed to act out or guess once, which made Chen Jian let out a sigh of relief.
“Manager Chen, you pair up with the Boss,” Hu Pan arranged. “Which one of you is acting and which one is guessing?”
Chen Jian didn’t want to act, but Shan Yu was a cripple… although he claimed he wasn’t lame anymore, still…
“I’ll act,” Shan Yu said.
Chen Jian looked at him: “You’re acting?”
“Otherwise?” Shan Yu said. “I’m afraid if you get too embarrassed, I won’t be able to figure out your guesses.”
…
Chen Jian was left speechless.
Amidst the chaos, everyone got into position, and the game quickly began. Since these games were mainly for fun, the words to guess were all four-character idioms, which weren’t too difficult.
The first pair sent out by the Dayin side was Lao Si and Lao Wu.
“Who arranged this,” Shan Yu whispered, “Tian Ji’s horse race strategy?”
“The later it gets, the harder it gets! Their first pair gets an easy one!” Liu Wu had been grouped into the Dayin team and was very satisfied with his arrangement.
Lao Si and Lao Wu lived up to expectations—for the idiom “as easy as turning one’s hand over,” through Lao Si’s repeated flipping of his palm, Lao Wu managed to guess: Under the Five Elements Mountain, Monkey Stealing a Peach, the Tathagata Palm, and Your Mom Beating You…
Next were Sanbing and Hu Pan, with “nine deaths and one single life” (a narrow escape from death).
Sanbing froze for a good moment before finally clutching his chest—dead. Then clutching his chest again—dead. Then clutching it again… Hu Pan shouted while watching: “Ten thousand arrows piercing the heart! Ripping out heart and lungs! Xi Shi holding her chest! Myocardial infarction…”
After Sanbing died nine times, he held up a nine, then jumped up, opening his arms to signal he was alive again.
Chen Jian couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“What on earth?” Hu Pan was baffled.
“This isn’t easy either, is it?” Chen Jian said.
“Maybe it’s not easy for us,” Lao Wu sighed.
Sanbing and Hu Pan’s pair didn’t guess correctly either, but the two Joyful Bean teams had guessed all of their words correctly.
“Next pair!” the host shouted.
“Brothers, you two go!” Liu Wu pushed the two of them forward. “It’s all on you guys!”
“It’s the Boss and the Manager!” the hosting Bean said enthusiastically. “Bring up the word!”
Shan Yu walked over to stand opposite Chen Jian. Behind Chen Jian, the person holding the word card flipped to a new sheet with a loud rustle and held it up.
Chen Jian immediately locked his eyes on Shan Yu.
But Shan Yu didn’t move, nor did he speak. Upon seeing the idiom behind Chen Jian, the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a very subtle smile.
What did that mean?
Chen Jian was stunned.
“You can guess it, you can definitely guess it!” Hu Pan shouted in a flurry of whispers.
What am I supposed to guess?!
Where is this certainty coming from?!
Shan Yu hadn’t moved or spoken at all!
“What is it!” Chen Jian shouted toward him.
Shan Yu burst out laughing.
Looking at this smile on Shan Yu’s face, Chen Jian instantly felt like he understood something.
Was this word simple? Was it that simple?
If someone were to act this out, how would they even act it out?
Yet Shan Yu didn’t act it out either; he simply looked at him and nodded.
Chen Jian was fairly certain now. Hesitating, he painstakingly opened his mouth: “Chen…” (Sinking…)
Shan Yu immediately raised his hand, wagging his finger back and forth.
Not that? Then it was…
“Bi Yue Xiu Hua?”1 Chen Jian asked.
“Bingo.” Shan Yu snapped his fingers.
“Yay—!” Hu Pan, Liu Wu, and the others cheered.
The host was somewhat astonished: “Such chemistry?!”
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- “Bi Yue Xiu Hua” (闭月羞花 – Shaming the Moon and Outshining the Flowers, a companion idiom to falling fish and dropping geese / 沉鱼落雁) ↩︎
