What did “no rush” mean?
Why register an account right now if there was no rush?
And with only one friend added.
Was it to supervise the manager…?
Chen Jian remained silent, suddenly feeling something a bit indescribable.
“Mm,” he responded, quickly backing out of the private chat window with Shan Yu.
Shan Yu didn’t say anything further either, sipping his coffee while eating his self-provided small biscuits, watching the self-taught hairstylist and her practice head outside.
Chen Jian was watching too—if he really couldn’t dodge getting an afro, he wanted to see what Sanbing looked like first once his head was blown up.
After watching for a while, Shan Yu finished his coffee, stood up, grabbed his small bag of biscuits, walked over to the front desk, dumped a handful in front of Chen Erhu, and then stepped into the elevator.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” Chen Erhu froze, not catching on right away.
“Boss Shan bought them back from the city,” Chen Jian said.
Chen Erhu fell silent for a long time before realizing, shouting: “Fuck, I didn’t mean it that way!”
“He doesn’t care if you meant it that way or not,” Chen Jian said. “Either way, he means it this way.”
His phone chimed.
Chen Jian picked it up and glanced at it.
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]: Bring my food up for me
Chen Jian felt a bit unaccustomed, almost thinking one of his own accounts had sent a message to himself.
He glanced toward the elevator; it had only just reached the second floor.
Couldn’t you just say that out loud?
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: Okay
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]: Who are you, remember to notify me to come watch when she gives you an afro
Chen Jian stared at this sentence for ten seconds before understanding that “Who are you” referred to Hu Pan.
The speechlessness of this moment made him almost want to laugh.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: Okay
Today’s staff meal was extraordinarily lavish because there were no guests dining, though Zhao Fangfang hadn’t made it just because she had time to cook.
“To celebrate Boss Shan being able to walk again,” Zhao Fangfang said.
“…He could actually walk all along,” Sanbing said, clutching his wrapped head.
“At least there’s no frame on his leg now,” Zhao Fangfang said. “Back when people were making trouble, I was really afraid that frame would poke through his bone again.”
Hearing this, Chen Erhu lowered his head and shoveled a couple of mouthfuls of rice.
“Sister Zhao, you should still dish out a separate portion for Boss Shan,” Chen Jian patted Chen Erhu on the shoulder. “I’ll take it up to him.”
“Why does he always eat alone?” Zhao Fangfang said.
“Haven’t you noticed he doesn’t talk when he eats?” Hu Pan said with a smile. “Eating with us with that habit would be so suffocating, like he was being isolated by us.”
“Aiya, he’s the boss—who’d dare isolate him?” Zhao Fangfang said.
“Why do I feel like everyone dares?” Sanbing said. “He doesn’t put on boss airs either.”
Chen Jian carried the meal tray up to the fourth floor. The sky was dark by now, and Shan Yu was standing by the window, looking at the moon that had just risen above the distant mountain forest.
“Extra dishes today,” Chen Jian said. “Sister Zhao said it’s to celebrate taking off your frame.”
“Thanks.” Shan Yu smiled faintly, walking over to sit by the coffee table.
“How’s the leg feeling?” Chen Jian asked.
“Pretty good, no pain or swelling,” Shan Yu tugged at his pants, exposing his lower leg to look. “Disinfected it myself just now. Guess these holes will close up in a couple of days.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian nodded.
“No back pay for you this month,” Shan Yu said.
“Understood.” Chen Jian smiled.
“Go eat.” Shan Yu picked up his chopsticks.
When Chen Jian came downstairs, a woman was standing at the front desk. Hu Pan, halfway through her meal, had set down her bowl to attend to her.
“Let me do it,” Chen Jian walked over. “You go eat first.”
“This lady wants to see the rooms first,” Hu Pan said.
“I’ll take you up to look,” Chen Jian said.
“Alright,” the woman nodded. “Sorry for the trouble.”
“No trouble,” Chen Jian said.
The woman wanted to look at the rooms on the second floor, specifically the two at the very end.
This request was actually quite strange. The guesthouse’s rooms were divided into two sides by the hallway—one side had a close-up view of the mountain forest, while the other overlooked the distant river. But the two rooms at the very end of the hallway had rather poor views; usually, people only stayed in them when the house was fully booked.
Chen Jian brought her up to the second floor and opened the doors to the two end rooms.
“As for the view, these two have a bit of an obstruction,” Chen Jian introduced tentatively. “The other rooms all…”
“Doesn’t matter,” the woman said, walking straight into Room 208.
Chen Jian followed her in, only to find that the woman didn’t go to the balcony; instead, she went straight into the bathroom, then quickly came back out. After that, she immediately entered Room 209 opposite, doing the exact same thing—walking into the bathroom, looking around, and coming right back out.
“If you have any special requirements for the room, you can tell me,” Chen Jian said.
“None,” the woman smiled. “I just have higher standards for the bathroom. Let’s go with 208 then, staying for two nights first.”
Chen Jian brought her back down to the first floor and handled the check-in. Looking at her ID and documents, everything was completely normal.
However, checking only the bathrooms in both rooms—and coming alone to a small tourist town like this—was quite unusual.
The woman was dragging a small suitcase, and judging by her aura and outfit, she didn’t look like a solo backpacker either.
After the woman went to her room, Chen Jian returned to the dining area, scooped a bowl of rice, and sat down: “Sanbing.”
“Huh?” Sanbing immediately leaned over the table toward him. “Is something off? We all said that woman looked a bit strange.”
“Don’t you always smoke by the pavilion at night?” Chen Jian said.
Sanbing instantly sat up straight: “I only go after finishing a full patrol loop, just smoking for a few minutes…”
“He’s not trying to scold you for smoking,” Chen Erhu said.
“Mm,” Chen Jian agreed.
“Oh.” Sanbing leaned back over the table and drew close again.
“Inquire a bit about whether any couples or the like checked in over there…” Chen Jian whispered.
“Oh my goodness,” Hu Pan reacted quickly, leaning over the table as well. “Is she here to catch an affair?”
“For those two rooms at the end of the second floor, the bathroom windows overlook those few rooms at Suiyun Small Dwelling,” Chen Jian said. “They have large viewing windows. She only looked at the bathroom, so she probably wanted to look over there.”
“If that’s true,” Zhao Fangfang joined in the huddle, “should we try to dissuade her?”
“…No need, if nothing happens, just leave it be,” Chen Jian said. “If a fight breaks out, just call the police.”
“Oh.” Zhao Fangfang nodded.
“So what’s the purpose of me asking around?” Sanbing found the core point.
“First, to be prepared in advance so we can handle it immediately if a scene really happens,” Chen Jian said. “She’s alone, after all…”
“Second?” Chen Erhu looked at him.
“Second is…” Chen Jian cleared his throat.
“To gossip a bit, of course,” Hu Pan said.
“Mm.” Chen Jian smiled. “Aren’t you guys curious?”
The group froze for a second, then all suppressed their voices to laugh together.
“Eat up, eat up, stop laughing,” Zhao Fangfang said with a smile, pulling the dishes toward the center.
“Right, after eating I’ll do your hair,” Hu Pan looked at Chen Jian.
“What about mine then?” Sanbing pointed at his still-wrapped head. “Leaving it halfway done?”
“Unwrap it, wash it yourself, and blow-dry it,” Hu Pan said.
After Sanbing washed his hair, he showed off his hairstyle to everyone with immense satisfaction.
“How about it!” He stood hands-on-hips.
“Pretty good, looks like a Black guy,” Chen Erhu said.
“I’m dark-skinned to begin with,” Sanbing said.
“Maybe I shouldn’t…” Chen Jian was pulled down onto a chair by Hu Pan. He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Shan Yu, saving the boss from saying he didn’t let him join in on the fun later.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: Come down
Just after sending the message, Hu Pan professionally draped a hairdressing cape around him.
“You’re not suitable for Sanbing’s afro look—his hair was too short, so that was the only way,” Hu Pan said. “Your hair is longer than his. Just a bit of trimming, then perm in a little wave…”
Couldn’t understand.
But didn’t sound like a fluffy Bichon Frise head.
When Shan Yu stepped out of the elevator, Hu Pan had just used a spray bottle to wet all of Chen Jian’s hair. A few strands fell over the bridge of his nose, water droplets still clinging to the tips.
For a moment, it felt like returning to the day he first met Chen Jian.
Shan Yu paused for a second before walking over, sitting down on the sofa opposite Chen Jian.
“Does Boss Shan want a hairstyle too?” Zhao Fangfang asked with a smile.
“I can’t do his—his hair’s grown long now, but you can still tell it was done for big money originally,” Hu Pan said.
“I’m just here for the show.” Shan Yu smiled, pulling out a bag of melon seeds from his pocket.
“Holy crap?” Sanbing looked at him in surprise. “Even brought melon seeds?”
“Mm, share them.” Shan Yu handed the seeds to him.
“Why don’t you guys go watch TV instead?” Chen Jian felt a bit helpless.
“It’s much more fun chatting here.” Sanbing brought a plate, poured out the seeds, and placed them on the small table in front of everyone.
Shan Yu leaned against the sofa, holding a handful of melon seeds, cracking them open while watching Chen Jian.
Hu Pan’s skills were actually decent—she must have learned properly from a hairstylist when she worked in the past. Her hair-cutting motions weren’t super practiced, but she only made minor adjustments to the length, keeping most of his forehead hair intact without touching it much.
“How come his hairstyle looks so good?” Sanbing asked. “Just a few snips and it suddenly looks great.”
“It depends on the face,” Hu Pan said.
Indeed.
Shan Yu stared at Chen Jian’s face.
When Chen Jian looked over, Shan Yu didn’t look away either, giving him a thumbs-up.
Awesome.
Chen Jian sighed.
“…Was that what I asked?” Sanbing said.
“But that is the answer to your question.” Hu Pan turned her head. “Isn’t your afro pretty good?”
“Just asking,” Sanbing said.
Shan Yu propped his temple with his hand and began laughing.
After the rough trim was done, Hu Pan began putting in rollers—much larger than the ones used on Sanbing. Shan Yu could even tell Chen Jian breathed a sigh of relief.
Shan Yu’s phone rang. Without looking, he knew it was Yue Lang—these past couple of days Yue Lang had been keeping an eye on Fang Xu’s movements, reporting any situation to him.
Although Fang Xu going to his house wouldn’t involve any bad words or actions toward his parents—just as Yue Lang said, it was nothing more than an apology, a very sincere one, maybe even crying a tear or two—the thing itself was infuriating.
The fact that he still dared to appear in Shan Yu’s life was a provocation in itself.
“Mm?” Shan Yu answered the phone.
“These past few days he’s been at his family’s old house,” Yue Lang said. “I got people keeping an eye on him. Are you coming over? Or should I just handle it directly?”
“Who’s keeping an eye?” Shan Yu put the melon seeds in his hand back onto the plate, stood up, and walked toward the garden.
“Xiao Lu and the guys,” Yue Lang said.
“Didn’t I say…” Shan Yu felt a wave of irritation, but his words were cut off by Yue Lang.
“I know, I know, I know—don’t let them get involved in this stuff anymore, live well from now on. You’ve said it so many times it sounds like your damn last words,” Yue Lang said. “I know, but do you think it’s possible for them not to care about this? Just like if something happened to me, wouldn’t you want to avenge me…?”
“No,” Shan Yu said. “I can weep at your grave.”
“Fuck you,” Yue Lang said.
“I’ll go back tomorrow,” Shan Yu said. “Tell them to do nothing besides watching him.”
“Don’t worry, definitely no extreme behavior,” Yue Lang said. “I should pick you up, right?”
“No need, go tend to your mountain of affairs.” Shan Yu said.
“I asked for nothing,” Yue Lang said. “Tell me your arrival time once you buy the ticket.”
Hu Pan wrapped Chen Jian’s head with a towel and pulled off the cape: “Alright, for your head, an hour and a half should be about right.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian responded, glancing toward the door Shan Yu had walked out of.
From taking that phone call until now, Hu Pan had been busy on his head for nearly an hour, and Shan Yu hadn’t come back in.
Normally, Chen Jian wouldn’t care, but the anger in Shan Yu’s voice when he took that call had left a deep impression on him…
Chen Jian stood up and strolled down the hallway toward the garden. He first looked up at the second floor—the light in Room 208’s bathroom was off, but the lights on the second floor of Suiyun opposite were on.
He watched for a while, seeing no one, then turned around and walked along the path toward the front yard, wanting to see if Shan Yu had gone out or was still in the garden.
After a few steps, someone whistled in the darkness ahead.
Chen Jian paused, walked over, and saw Shan Yu sitting on the swing.
“Not done yet?” Shan Yu asked.
“Have to keep it wrapped for an hour and a half,” Chen Jian said. “My neck’s starting to ache.”
Shan Yu looked at the bench beside him: “Want to lie down for a bit?”
“…Not to that extent,” Chen Jian said.
Shan Yu smiled faintly, paused for a moment, and said: “I’m going back for a trip tomorrow afternoon.”
“Huh?” Chen Jian froze. “Back where?”
“Back to my place,” Shan Yu said. “Return in about two or three days.”
To his place.
Not back home.
“Are you going to find that Fang Xu?” Chen Jian asked.
“Pretty good memory; remembered the name.” Shan Yu said.
“The name is literally two characters; it doesn’t even need remembering,” Chen Jian said. “It’s not Leng Bingning Aiyu Mengcuishuang.”
Shan Yu paused for two seconds, then burst out laughing, almost losing his balance on the swing.
“Hey,” he looked at Chen Jian, “you’re really quite… cute.”
Chen Jian didn’t make a sound.
“I don’t even want to trouble Qian Yu anymore.” Shan Yu stood up, looked at him silently for a moment, then turned toward the door. “Check the bus schedule to the city for me tomorrow. I have a 3:15 train from the West Station in the afternoon.”
“You’re not driving there?” Chen Jian asked.
“Who’s gonna drive it back?” Shan Yu said. “Am I taking Chen Erhu along with me?”
This was the first time the boss was leaving since coming to the small town. The crew at the shop was unexpectedly flustered; Zhao Fangfang was even contemplating whether to steam some buns or something for Shan Yu to eat on the way.
“I’m not going into exile,” Shan Yu shook the bag in his hand. “Only this much space, no room for food.”
“Don’t worry, Boss, with us here these few days,” Hu Pan said, “there definitely won’t be any issues.”
“It’s not even that far away,” Chen Erhu said. “You guys are acting like he’s never coming back.”
Not that close either—527 kilometers.
“Mainly just not used to it,” Sanbing said.
“Let’s go, Manager’s taking me to catch the ride.” Shan Yu picked up his bag and walked out.
Chen Jian quickly followed, straddled the motorcycle parked in the yard, and started the engine. Shan Yu sat on the back seat, whispering: “Drive fast, I’m afraid they’ll run out and chase behind the bike in a second.”
Chen Jian smiled, twisted the throttle, and the bike sped off.
The boarding spot for the long-distance bus was right beside the small road outside town, marked by a sign inside a small pavilion.
“Just pay when you get on,” Chen Jian instructed.
“Mm,” Shan Yu responded.
“If there are seats in the back, head back there,” Chen Jian said. “They pile up all kinds of stuff near the entrance, total mess.”
“Mm,” Shan Yu responded again.
Chen Jian turned his head to look at him.
“I’m twenty-six,” Shan Yu said. “Half a decade older than you.”
Chen Jian smiled, turned his head away, and said no more.
“If anything comes up, just message me,” Shan Yu said. “I’ll keep an ear out.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian nodded.
The bus arrived quite punctually, but it was pretty crowded, with a cage of chickens near the door. Once Shan Yu squeezed on, he was no longer visible.
Chen Jian still waited until the bus drove off before straddling his motorcycle.
Before he could even drive back to the guesthouse in town, his phone rang.
Chen Jian hurriedly fumbled out his phone, seeing an unfamiliar number. He froze for a second, then picked up: “Hello?”
“Is this Chen Jian?” A man asked on the other end. “I’m Instructor Li.”
“What instructor?” Chen Jian didn’t understand.
“Your brother contacted me at the beginning of the month—weren’t you going to learn to drive?” Instructor Li on the line said. “Lots of people learning to drive lately, and a slot just opened up on my end…”
Chen Jian felt a momentary daze.
“He told me to arrange it for you as soon as possible since you need to shuttle the boss,” Instructor Li said. “So as soon as I had an opening, you were the first person I notified.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian smiled softly.
