He regretted it.
He shouldn’t have sat in the back.
Shan Yu sat in the second-to-last row, bouncing up and down along with the back of the bus as it traveled down the broken, pitted road.
The front was indeed chaotic and quite dirty—not only was there a coop of chickens, but several baskets of mountain produce had also been brought aboard later—yet the back wasn’t much better either.
Beside him, an old woman was holding a little girl, and the little girl was cradling a small local puppy in her arms.
The puppy kept chewing on the pocket flap of Shan Yu’s sleeve. The little girl cried non-stop, while the old woman nagged at her continuously.
“It’s just a dog. Selling it is selling it; it won’t help you with your schooling anyway…”
“I raised it! I feed it every day when I get home,” the little girl said.
It was truly noisy. Pulling his sleeve out of the dog’s mouth, Shan Yu leaned his head away to look out the window, but leaning too close caused his forehead to knock against the glass twice.
“Don’t bite other people!” The old woman slapped the dog on the head.
The puppy let out a yelp and began whimpering, making it even noisier.
Shan Yu turned his head back to look at the old woman.
The old woman looked back at him as well.
“Going to the old town or the city?” Shan Yu asked.
“The town,” the old woman said.
“Going to sell the dog?” Shan Yu asked again.
“Not selling it!” the little girl chimed in.
“Yeah, a litter was born and this is the only one left,” the old woman said, kicking a basket at her feet. “Plus these mushrooms…”
“How much can you sell them for?” Shan Yu asked.
“Can’t make much. Didn’t pick many today, so maybe forty-some yuan,” the old woman slapped the dog again. “Counting the dog, maybe a hundred altogether.”
Hearing this, the little girl cried even harder while clutching the puppy.
“Selling it will buy you new clothes,” the old woman said. “Stop crying, there’ll be more litters in the future.”
“They’ll just get sold again,” the little girl wiped her tears. “I don’t want new clothes.”
“A dog this small is only worth thirty, tops,” Shan Yu said.
“It’s been fed for a while now, how could it be just thirty?” the old woman said. “It’s five jin already!”
“Not for sale!” the little girl repeatedly emphasized.
Shan Yu pulled out his wallet, drew out a hundred-yuan bill, and handed it to the old woman: “I’ll buy both the dog and the mushrooms.”
The old woman froze for a moment, then took the money.
“Stop scolding her,” Shan Yu said. “It’s noisy as hell.”
“And you, stop crying,” Shan Yu looked at the little girl again. “Do you know Red Leaf Town?”
“Mm,” the little girl nodded. “Just back there.”
“Get off the bus, follow the street all the way to the end, to Dayin Guesthouse,” Shan Yu said as he took the dog from her hands and stuffed it into his jacket. The dog’s head poked out, so he pressed it back down and zipped the zipper up to the very top. “Your dog will be there. If you want to see it in the future, just go there.”
“Are you going to eat it?” the little girl asked.
“Don’t like eating dog,” Shan Yu said.
“Really?” the little girl asked again.
“Really,” Shan Yu nodded.
When the bus arrived at the old town and the little girl was pulled off by the old woman, she turned back and shouted loudly: “Is it real?! If I go look for you to see the dog! Is it really real—”
“Really,” Shan Yu said. “If you ever run away from home one day and have nowhere to go, you can go there too.”
The commuter bus stopped in the old town for a while to let passengers on and off. Shan Yu inquired with the driver, found a return bus, put the dog into a sack, and handed it over along with the mushrooms for the driver to bring back to the town’s intersection.
Returning to his bus, someone was already sitting in his seat. But it didn’t matter—most of the chickens, ducks, and mountain produce piled in the front had been unloaded in the old town. He sat down in a seat where produce had previously been placed, still able to feel bits of dirt beneath his rear.
No wonder Chen Jian and Chen Erhu’s group preferred riding motorcycles.
He pulled out his phone and sent the return bus’s license plate number to Chen Jian.
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]: Send someone to the intersection over there to pick up a dog and some mushrooms.
Chen Jian replied two minutes later.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: ?
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]: Just bought them.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: What dog? What mushrooms?
Shan Yu sent a voice message: “A five-jin local dog and a basket of freshly picked mushrooms. Raise the dog, eat the mushrooms.”
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: ………………………………………………………………
Shan Yu let out a soft laugh and casually opened his phone gallery.
The three most recent photos were all of Chen Jian: one getting his hair permed, one inspecting the shop, and the newest one taken while waiting for the bus.
Chen Jian was straddling the motorcycle with his feet propped on the ground, looking in the direction where the bus was coming from.
Hu Pan’s skills were actually pretty decent. This newly permed hairstyle was at least better than what Chen Jian managed on his own. It wasn’t as messy as before; it simply pressed down the chaotic natural curls and permed wavy textures into the hair, looking natural and casual.
However, this hairstyle required styling. Shan Yu slipped his phone back into his pocket, rested his head against a bag—containing who knows what—slung over his seatback by a middle-aged man behind him, and closed his eyes. It was clear Chen Jian had styled it when he got up; his perming skills were average, but his hair-styling skills were top-notch.
Chen Jian straddled the motorcycle, watching the commuter bus driving over from afar. Judging by the license plate, it was the exact one Shan Yu had consigned the dog and mushrooms to.
“From Dayin, right?” The driver opened the bus door, carried down a basket and a woven sack, and set them by his feet.
“Yes,” Chen Jian glanced at them. In the basket were mushrooms—the ordinary kind sold at stalls in the old village for five yuan a jin—and inside the bag was a small, wriggling bundle.
After the bus drove off, he untied the rope at the mouth of the sack.
Inside really was a dog—a small local puppy, the most typical kind with yellow fur and a black snout, the sort where if someone’s dog in the village gave birth, you could just go and ask for one for free.
“Truly impressive,” Chen Jian was somewhat speechless, wondering what Shan Yu had been up to on the bus.
He secured the basket onto the back seat, then pulled the dog out and stuffed it into his jacket. The dog was very small, probably right around five jin, and fairly well-behaved. It whimpered the whole way back to Dayin, but didn’t squirm recklessly.
“Oh my goodness,” Hu Pan ran out from the house and took the puppy Chen Jian pulled out from his jacket. “Is this the dog he asked you to get? Isn’t this just a local puppy?”
“Yeah, and mushrooms too… still pretty fresh,” Chen Jian said. “Have Zhao-jie cook them.”
“Bought on the bus?” Lao Wu walked over from the garden as well. “What’s the point of buying these?”
“No idea,” Chen Jian couldn’t imagine a reasonable scenario. “It wouldn’t be surprising if he bought two heads of cabbage and sent them back either. Guess he just thought it was fun.”
“Where are we going to raise this dog?” Hu Pan quite liked the small local puppy, placing it on the ground and running back and forth with it. “Does it have a name?”
“Let’s call it Mushroom,” Chen Jian said.
“Mushroom, Mushroom, come here! Your name is Mushroom now, got it?” Hu Pan teased the puppy.
“We still have those old wooden boards dismantled from the fence in our storage room,” Chen Jian looked at Lao Wu. “Do you know carpentry?”
“Nope,” Lao Wu answered honestly.
“Do you know how to hand tools to a carpenter?” Chen Jian asked again.
“Yep,” Lao Wu nodded.
“Let’s go then.” Chen Jian carried the basket of mushrooms into the house.
“Who’s the carpenter?” Lao Wu followed behind him.
“Me, obviously,” Chen Jian said.
Yue Lang timed it impeccably. When his call came through, Shan Yu had just stepped off the bus and was still walking along the platform.
“North Exit,” Yue Lang said. “The road over there was under construction, so all the buses parked over here.”
“Mm,” Shan Yu responded.
“We’ll head straight to the restaurant in a bit,” Yue Lang said. “Didn’t invite anyone else—just Xiao Lu and Da Kang waiting in the private room.”
“Alright.” Shan Yu followed the crowd forward. People dragged their luggage past him in a rush, every single person stepping hurriedly.
Only he walked at a deliberate, unhurried pace.
By the time he reached the exit, the passengers from the same bus had all dispersed. Outside, Yue Lang leaned against a pillar in the exit hall, looking over.
The moment he walked out, Yue Lang spotted him at a glance, stepping forward briskly while pointing at him: “Why the fuck didn’t you just crawl out?”
Shan Yu smiled without saying anything.
Yue Lang didn’t say anything more either. He came up, opened his arms, and hugged him tightly, then stepped back a pace to look at his leg: “Is your leg better?”
“Passable. Just can’t crawl very fast,” Shan Yu said.
“Screw you,” Yue Lang said.
“Let’s go,” Shan Yu gestured with his head.
“Hold on,” Yue Lang looked at him. “Let me take a look first.”
Shan Yu stood still and looked back at Yue Lang.
Since coming out, he hadn’t seen any of his friends. Counting it up, he hadn’t seen Yue Lang for almost four years, and suddenly seeing him brought a wave of emotion.
“Not much has changed,” Yue Lang said. “I thought you’d be a bit fatter.”
“You’ve aged,” Shan Yu said.
“It’s been four years, how could I not age a year or two?” Yue Lang glared at him after finishing his sentence. “Nobody talks like you!”
Shan Yu gave a low laugh, stepped forward, put his arms around Yue Lang, and patted his back several times.
“Fuck,” Yue Lang wiped his eye. “I really missed you.”
“I can tell,” Shan Yu said. “Hold it in for now. Cry for me later tonight.”
“You fucking…” The tears in Yue Lang’s eyes instantly choked back.
It seemed as though nothing had changed—the familiar atmosphere, the familiar streets, the familiar friend beside him, and even Yue Lang’s car was still the original one.
Yet everything really had changed a lot.
Looking at the road ahead, Shan Yu pulled out his phone to check it. A message had come in when he got off the bus, but he hadn’t had time to look at it then.
It was a photo sent by Chen Jian: a small wooden doghouse, with that little local puppy lying inside already fast asleep.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: Settled in.
Shan Yu sent a reply.
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]: Named it yet?
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: Mushroom.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: Eat it then.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: The name!
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]: Would typing one more word grind your fingers down?
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]: The dog is called Mushroom now.
Shan Yu clicked his tongue and put his phone back in his pocket.
“Is recluse life treating you alright?” Yue Lang glanced at him.
“Not bad,” Shan Yu said. “The small town is pretty quiet, just three streets.”
“A bit too small—not even enough room for you to stir up trouble,” Yue Lang said.
“I’m well-behaved now,” Shan Yu said. “Reformed and rehabilitated.”
“Fuck,” Yue Lang frowned. “Just mentioning that makes me mad.”
“Is he still at the old house?” Shan Yu asked.
“He doesn’t have anywhere else to go either; didn’t he sell the house before?” Yue Lang said. “It’s easy to find him. If he hadn’t gone to your place, I wouldn’t have bothered with him at all.”
“Unreconciled, huh,” Shan Yu said. “Holding in anger.”
“What right does he have to hold in anger?” Yue Lang raised his voice. “If he’s got anger, let him hold it in; if he can’t hold it, he can fucking self-immolate!”
Shan Yu burst out laughing, leaning against the seatback: “Great voice, Lang-ge.”
“When do you plan to go find him?” Yue Lang asked. “I rented the apartment across from his for a month.”
“Tomorrow,” Shan Yu pinched his fingers.
“And then?” Yue Lang glanced at him.
“Cancel the lease quickly before living there for even two days,” Shan Yu said.
“Get lost. Who’s gonna refund you?” Yue Lang said.
The restaurant Yue Lang booked wasn’t the one they used to frequent all the time. That place was too familiar—everyone from the boss to the waiters knew them. Having not seen Shan Yu for years, they would inevitably come over for a chat.
Gossiping and talking behind his back was something Shan Yu didn’t care about, but face-to-face pleasantries were the absolute last thing he wanted to deal with.
This place was newly opened, where nobody knew anybody, which was very comfortable.
“Those two are definitely gonna cry when they see you,” Yue Lang remarked as he pushed open the door.
Xiao Lu and Da Kang, who were sitting inside, looked over the instant the door opened.
Their eyes swept past Yue Lang, and the moment they saw Shan Yu, both of them stood up abruptly at the same time.
“Shan Yu-ge!”
Shan Yu entered the private room, reached back to close the door, and looked at the two standing straight as ramrods, smiling faintly: “This posture—looks like you two were locked up longer than I was.”
Xiao Lu kicked away his chair, strode over, and hugged Shan Yu tightly: “Holy shit, I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Rest assured,” Shan Yu patted his arm. “Even if I die, I’ll lie in a coffin so you guys can see me before I’m cremated.”
“And after cremation, only a mouth will be left,” Yue Lang opened the door and called out to the waitress outside, “Serve the food.”
“Shan Yu-ge,” Da Kang controlled his emotions slightly better. He waited until Xiao Lu stepped aside before coming over to give Shan Yu a hug as well: “Shan Yu-ge… Shan Yu-ge…”
“Are you an echo wall?” Shan Yu said.
Da Kang laughed: “Haven’t changed much.”
“Mr. Zhou said he wants to extend for another month,” Hu Pan tapped on her phone while eating dinner. “He also ordered dinner every day and asked if he could eat together with our staff meals, so I agreed.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian nodded.
“Who’s Mr. Zhou?” Chen Erhu asked.
“The one in Room 102, named Zhou Lecheng,” Hu Pan lowered her voice. “I see he’s been acting pretty normal these past few days.”
“Why doesn’t he go rent a place in town?” Lao Wu said. “Wouldn’t that be cheaper than staying here?”
“Does renting an apartment come with someone to clean up? Does someone cook meals for him every day?” Hu Pan shot him a glare. “Does anyone push away their own business?”
The door to Room 102 opened over there, and Zhou Lecheng walked out, glancing toward the dining area.
“Having dinner?” Chen Jian asked.
“Mm,” Zhou Lecheng smiled, walked over, grabbed a set of bowl and chopsticks, and sat down.
“If you have any dietary preferences, you can let Zhao-jie know,” Chen Jian said.
“Anything works for me,” Zhou Lecheng said. “Manager Chen, I have a few things I’d like to chat with you about after dinner.”
“Sure,” Chen Jian nodded, exchanging a look with Hu Pan.
Not really knowing why they exchanged a look—the eye contact wasn’t particularly meaningful, basically conveying—
Here it comes, here it comes, wow wow wow, finally waited for him to speak up on his own…
After dinner, Chen Jian and Zhou Lecheng strolled out of the guesthouse together. Originally, Chen Jian wanted to walk around the garden, but Zhou Lecheng walked straight out the courtyard gate, heading forward along the small path.
Chen Jian could only follow.
“I originally wanted to talk directly to your boss,” Zhou Lecheng said. “But he doesn’t seem to be around?”
“He’s away on a business trip and won’t be back for a few days,” Chen Jian said.
Luckily he was on a business trip. If he actually talked to him, given the boss’s style, the direction of the conversation would be far too uncontrollable.
Though if something really was going on, it would indeed require him to be around.
He didn’t know how many days it would take for him to come back; he hadn’t asked when he left.
Should he ask?
When should he ask?
He should have arrived by now and be eating dinner…
“Thinking about it again, talking to you might be more suitable,” Zhou Lecheng said. “Your boss doesn’t seem to manage things much?”
“He manages things too,” Chen Jian pulled back his thoughts.
Just not much.
“It’s like this: I wrote a few things,” Zhou Lecheng looked down and tapped on his phone, then handed it over to Chen Jian. “Take a look first.”
“Oh,” Chen Jian took the phone and quickly scanned it first. It appeared to be a forum, open to a post interface.
When he saw the title, Chen Jian raised his eyebrows in surprise and couldn’t help looking up at Zhou Lecheng.
A Journey Within a Countdown.
“You are…” Chen Jian felt a bit nervous, the words on the screen becoming slightly blurry to him.
“I’m sick, and there’s no point in treatment anymore,” Zhou Lecheng said. “So I wanted to record these final days, travel around, and enjoy myself.”
“Aren’t you going to commit suicide?” Chen Jian wanted to pinch himself the moment he asked.
That was hardly better than what his boss would say.
“I thought about it,” Zhou Lecheng smiled faintly. “But I don’t have that plan for now. After staying another month, I’ll go back home to keep my grandmother company.”
Not keep your parents company?
Chen Jian wanted to ask, but couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“This is the place I’ve stayed the longest,” Zhou Lecheng said. “At first, I just wanted to stay for a few days and leave, but that day… after playing cards… I wanted to stay a while longer.”
Chen Jian didn’t speak. Leaning against a nearby tree, he lowered his head and began reading the post.
“You two head back first,” Shan Yu sat on the sofa facing the window with the curtains drawn, where the living room of Fang Xu’s family’s old house was visible directly opposite.
Neither Xiao Lu nor Da Kang moved.
Across the way, Fang Xu hadn’t returned yet. Knowing Shan Yu’s personality, they weren’t sure if Shan Yu would head straight over the moment Fang Xu got back.
“I’ll stay here tonight,” Yue Lang said. “If anything comes up, you guys come back over.”
Shan Yu glanced at him, clicking his tongue without speaking.
“We’ll come over early tomorrow morning,” Xiao Lu said.
“Bring breakfast,” Shan Yu said.
“Mm,” Xiao Lu smiled.
After the two left, Shan Yu picked up his phone and checked it. Chen Yu Luo Yan hadn’t sent any messages.
“Are you waiting for something?” Yue Lang asked, lying on the adjacent sofa.
“Hmm?” Shan Yu glanced at him. “My manager hasn’t reported his work to me all evening.”
Yue Lang paused: “What kind of evil capitalist are you now? You have to keep tabs on the shop even when you’re away for half a day?”
