DLRAS Chapter 124 [Past]

Chapter 124: Countless voices and laughter rang in his mind

“That gambler inside—a gambling addict can hardly be considered human anymore. There’s no hope for his repentance anyway, so we can use him to kill the chicken to warn the monkeys,” Huo Niansheng said. “Scare the remaining few into identifying the mastermind behind the scenes. Let’s not have a situation where they retract their confessions at the very end.”

“That is my thought exactly. Don’t worry, the police are under a lot of pressure too, and they’re afraid of stirring up public opinion.”

“Look into their social connections as well. Parents, children, wives… there must be at least a few people in this world they care about.”

“This kind of small bullying gang committing new crimes while serving their sentences shows a complete lack of remorse; the nature of it is even more egregious,” Lawyer Zhu said. “Legally, they will definitely receive a severe sentence. There’s no escaping it. And they aren’t a monolithic block internally either; I imagine someone will eventually loosen their tongue.”

Huo Niansheng ended the call, his expression cold. He had just arrived downstairs and paused by the lawn, suddenly turning his head to look up at the building.

The inpatient building was a six-story structure. The window belonging to Chen Wengang’s ward was currently glowing with a soft white light. Since not every room was occupied, many were dark. Those with lights shining against the black of night looked like a scattered galaxy of stars.

That starry river reflected in Huo Niansheng’s pupils for a long time, casting a tenderness and pity upon his face that even he himself didn’t notice.

In truth, it wasn’t that Huo Niansheng was unwilling to visit every day, nor did he not want to stay with the other man a little longer. Rather than saying he didn’t want to go, it was more accurate to say that Chen Wengang didn’t actually need him.

‘Salvation’ is a word that sounds grandiose, full of self-indulgent emotion. Just because someone was willing to take him in didn’t mean they deserved his tearful gratitude. When Huo Niansheng picked him up and brought him home, he hadn’t thought about all those superfluous things. It was like picking up a stray cat—one that had been abused. Watching it act cautiously, full of vigilance, needing treatment, needing rest, needing a safe space. All of this outweighed the need for an unfamiliar person acting affectionately by its side.

In total, Chen Wengang stayed in the hospital for over a month.

By the time he was discharged, autumn had completely ended, and the weather forecast predicted an incoming cold front. He was effectively homeless, so with no other choice, he moved back into Huo Niansheng’s apartment in the Genting Building.

Huo Niansheng went to pick him up on the day of his discharge. Old Li the driver and Amanda helped pack up his things. Chen Wengang had actually packed in advance; everything was neatly arranged in the corner of the ward, only requiring the driver to carry it down. Huo Niansheng stood with both hands in his pockets, by the window where Chen Wengang always used to gaze outside.

He watched the driver open the trunk downstairs, wondering what scenery was so worth looking at in this unchanging view. Pondering this, Huo Niansheng suddenly turned his head. Chen Wengang was sitting quietly on the edge of the bed. Sensing the gaze directed at him, Chen Wengang looked up, returning an inquiring look.

For a moment, an indescribable emotion surged in Huo Niansheng’s heart, like heavy winter snowflakes, swirling wildly in an instant.

Actually, this city rarely saw snow. Rather, during the days he was abroad, wandering the world or sometimes traveling for business in higher latitude cities—in Switzerland, in Finland, in Syracuse—he had witnessed such scenes. Huo Niansheng recalled how he had simply walked away back then. The outside world was vast, and he had left the child from his memory far behind. Then, in the blink of an eye, somehow, the other had truly grown up.

But not everyone’s growth had to be accompanied by such tragic lessons and painful costs.

Amanda came in holding the discharge papers. Sensing a slightly different atmosphere, Huo Niansheng simply said, “Let’s go.”

Chen Wengang returned with him. Upon arriving at the apartment, Huo Niansheng suddenly asked again, “Are you going to be okay by yourself?”

Chen Wengang paused, then asked him hesitantly, “You’re still not staying here, right?” His tone was ambiguous.

Huo Niansheng smiled and countered, “Do you want me to stay here, or do you not want to see me?”

Chen Wengang misunderstood the meaning behind his question; he didn’t realize Huo Niansheng was asking for his preference. While he stood there stunned, Huo Niansheng watched him for a moment, picked up his suit jacket, and said they would decide later. Telling Chen Wengang to go to sleep first, he left the apartment. Perhaps he went clubbing, or maybe he had other social engagements. Chen Wengang wasn’t entirely sure.

After that, Huo Niansheng never explicitly stated whether he was moving in or not. He was the owner anyway, free to come and go as he pleased. He would drop by this Genting Building apartment every day or two. Sometimes he stayed overnight in the master bedroom; other times, he just came back for a meal and left.

The meals were cooked by a caregiver. After his discharge, Amanda stopped shadowing Chen Wengang, but they hired another person for the apartment. Surnamed Wang, she was said to have extensive nursing knowledge and experience, along with a nutritionist certification. She took over the job of looking after Chen Wengang.

At first, Chen Wengang felt it was unnecessary and wanted to politely decline. Hiring a dedicated caregiver at home inevitably made him feel like a useless invalid. But this matter wasn’t up to him; it was Huo Niansheng’s idea, so she was hired regardless. Besides, to this Caregiver Sister Wang, the employer was a wealthy man living in a high-end apartment who paid generously, so she was more than happy to stay.

Thus, she took charge of supervising Chen Wengang’s medication, designing nutritional menus, and preparing his three meals a day. Just like Amanda, she also reported the situation at home to Huo Niansheng. Chen Wengang was aware of all this.

Two weeks passed peacefully.

In all fairness, Chen Wengang was an easy person to serve. Caregivers usually faced patients who had lost their ability to care for themselves; he was far from that state, nor did he have the bad habits of being eccentric or bossy. He was as quiet as a plant that only needed watering on schedule. Even when he overheard Sister Wang on the phone in secret, talking about “that blind guy” she was looking after, he simply feigned ignorance.

Sister Wang drafted a rich and diverse menu and stuck it to the fridge, but she didn’t always strictly follow it. When Huo Niansheng came back for dinner, the dishes on the table were often perfect in color, aroma, and taste. If he wasn’t home, the chances of seeing plain, bland food were much higher. However, Chen Wengang didn’t care much about what he ate, so he didn’t mind this either.

That evening, when Huo Niansheng walked through the door, it was just past eight o’clock, but he heard that Chen Wengang had already gone to bed early.

Sister Wang was in the kitchen. Hearing the noise, she walked out wiping her hands. A savory aroma wafted from the kitchen; a pot of soup was still simmering on the stove.

She asked her employer if he wanted a bowl. As Huo Niansheng changed his shoes, he casually declined. She then explained why Chen Wengang hadn’t eaten: “Mr. Chen went to the supermarket today and encountered a little unpleasantness.”

“What happened?” Huo Niansheng’s hand, tugging at his tie, slowed half a beat.

“Nothing major. He just ran into two ignorant kids who chased him shouting ‘one-eyed pirate’ a few times,” she said. “So I saw Mr. Chen looked quite upset. He argued a bit with their parents and then came back.”

Huo Niansheng let out a breath. “You were there too? What did you say?”

“Well… they’re just kids, they speak without a filter. You can’t stoop to their level.”

“Forget it. Did he eat anything tonight?”

“Mr. Chen said he had no appetite and only ate some fruit.”

Huo Niansheng shot her a sidelong glance, giving a slight kick to nudge his discarded shoes to the door.

Reading his expression, and since the soup was almost done, Sister Wang went back into the kitchen, turned off the stove, and moved the ceramic pot to the counter. Without doing anything else, she greeted Huo Niansheng and returned to the nanny’s room to rest.

Huo Niansheng stood there for a moment before entering the kitchen. He opened the fridge to grab a can of sparkling water, glancing inside in passing. Even though it was winter, one shelf in the refrigerator was stuffed full of various fruits, including imported and out-of-season ones. Other sections stored organic vegetables, while the freezer contained all kinds of premium meats and seafood. The fridge was virtually never out of good things; ingredients of any price could be found here. Huo Niansheng was used to an extravagant lifestyle himself, so he certainly wouldn’t skimp on providing for another person.

Having gone to bed early, Chen Wengang also woke up early the next day—awake by six in the morning. The living room was spotless and completely quiet. At first, he didn’t even know someone had come back last night.

When he suddenly heard a noise, Chen Wengang was on the balcony, facing the railing and smoking. Usually, Huo Niansheng couldn’t get up this early. Today was an exception, which gave Chen Wengang quite a start. He turned his head to look inside, only to see Huo Niansheng with a coat draped over his pajamas, while Sister Wang stood before him looking extremely aggrieved. Separated by the glass door, he couldn’t hear what they were saying clearly.

Huo Niansheng’s face wore a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. As Chen Wengang slid open the door, she looked at him as if seeing a savior. “Oh, Xiao Chen, please tell the boss how I usually work! Whether I put my heart into it or not, you know best…”

Chen Wengang twitched the corner of his lips and flicked his cigarette ash, saying nothing. When she slacked off, he had no interest in tattling. As for why she was suddenly being kicked out, he was equally indifferent. He watched coldly from the sidelines, as if utterly unconcerned with the life or death of others.

Sister Wang clearly couldn’t bear to lose this high-paying, low-effort job, but she still had to leave. On her way out, she shot him a resentful glare. Chen Wengang had already turned his back to continue smoking, noticing nothing.

Sister Wang took half an hour to pack a travel bag. Huo Niansheng might have gone back to catch up on sleep; twenty minutes passed before he came out again. He rummaged for something to eat in the kitchen and then stepped out onto the balcony as well. “Why are you up so early?”

Chen Wengang wished him a good morning. “I slept early last night and didn’t even know you were here. I didn’t hear a single sound.”

With the recent cold wave sweeping through, the temperature had suddenly plummeted by seven or eight degrees, instantly bringing a freezing, wintry feel. The interior was equipped with central air conditioning, maintaining a constant temperature and humidity in a pleasant, comfortable state. However, the balcony was semi-open, and the biting wind howled inward. Over his pajamas, Chen Wengang wore a thin sweater. The collar was pulled flat, revealing a stretch of a slender, pale neck.

The balcony was enclosed with railings. He tilted his head back, gazing out through the cage at the divided sky, like a trapped bird.

Taking his silhouette into his eyes, Huo Niansheng handed him a croissant. Chen Wengang took it and teased, “I said from the start that I didn’t need a caregiver, yet you hired one just to chase her away.”

Huo Niansheng said, “Do you like that kind of two-faced turncoat? It’s not too late to call her back.”

Chen Wengang shook his head, resting the cigarette between his fingers on the ashtray, and finished the bread in two bites. “No need. Good or bad, there’s no need for one.” He had specifically brought a crystal ashtray out to the balcony, clearly a repeat offender by now.

The tray was piled high with ash and cigarette butts. The currently burning one was slowly shortening. Huo Niansheng asked, “Didn’t you quit while you were in the hospital? How did you pick it up again?”

As he spoke, Chen Wengang had already picked it back up. Huo Niansheng suddenly reached out and plucked it from his hand. Knowing he was in the wrong, Chen Wengang let go. Yet Huo Niansheng brought that half-smoked cigarette to his own lips, lowered his head slightly, and took a deep drag.

Chen Wengang froze for a second. Before he could react, his eyes widened—Huo Niansheng crushed the cigarette butt into the crystal ashtray and hooked a hand around the back of his head.

For a moment, the thought of struggling didn’t even arise in Chen Wengang’s mind, perhaps because the other man’s movements were rather gentle.

Huo Niansheng lowered his head, taking his soft lips in his own, grinding and lingering. A warm sensation covered him, accompanied by the taste and texture of tobacco passing over.

A thunderous roar echoed in his mind, like fireworks exploding into clusters of multicolored, vibrant light. In that instant, it made Chen Wengang recall many scenes of blooming fireworks—amusement park carnivals, Lantern Festival markets, seaside bonfire parties… The roar of crowds and laughter echoed in his head, before they gradually withered away, returning to nothingness.

Chen Wengang was like a marionette, letting Huo Niansheng wrap his arms under his armpits and pull him into an embrace. Huo Niansheng’s movements weren’t urgent. He progressed gradually, controlling the rhythm. In that brief span of time, Chen Wengang lost a fraction of his capacity to think, yet his memory became exceptionally active.

What he recalled was Zheng Yucheng from several years ago, and that summer night after the birthday banquet ended. Under the yet-to-be-removed fairy lights, the red and blue glow traced a silhouette, an intimate confession, and a clumsy kiss. The past was still so crystal clear it felt as if it had happened just yesterday.

Compared to Zheng Yucheng, who hadn’t yet shed his youthful heroism, Huo Niansheng was a completely different kind of person, a completely different kind of man. Zheng Yucheng was high-spirited, possessing the vigor of someone determined to win at love. Huo Niansheng was different. He navigated with ease, seemingly close yet distant, precisely controlling the distance he desired, exuding an instinctual sense of danger. It was as if once you fell into his hands, there was no possibility of escape.

Chen Wengang pressed both hands against his chest, his grip loosening and tightening, until finally, he clutched Huo Niansheng’s shirt.

It lasted until a phone ringtone persistently rang out for the second time, declaring that this was no spam call and the caller most likely had something genuinely urgent. The two broke apart abruptly. It was Huo Niansheng’s phone ringing. He smoothed out Chen Wengang’s collar. “Go inside. It’s cold out here.”

Chen Wengang stepped into the living room, yet felt as though he had nowhere to put himself. He only just realized his face was burning like fire. Everything that had just occurred felt like a delusion conjured by madness.

However, the sensation and heat of the kiss still lingered between his lips and teeth, unmistakably real. He looked back; Huo Niansheng was still on the balcony talking on the phone, looking completely at ease, even laughing and chatting, as if the romantic scene from moments ago hadn’t featured him as a protagonist.

Chen Wengang subsequently calmed down. More than romantic, this kiss was shocking. The confusion and bewilderment in his heart acted like an ever-expanding vortex, sweeping his entire being into it. As childhood sweethearts, Zheng Yucheng’s confession had felt perfectly justified. But for someone like Huo Niansheng… what was it for? Did he know what he was doing?

Looking down, Chen Wengang noticed his sleeve had brushed against the ash in the tray. He dusted it off and pushed open the bathroom door. Turning the faucet, a stream of pristine water rushed out. He looked up; the mirror above the sink was bright.

The person inside stared back at him with a single eye.

Huo Niansheng hung up the phone and stayed on the balcony for another half minute before walking back in and sliding the door shut. Chen Wengang was nowhere in sight. Huo Niansheng waited for a moment, only to be met by a massive crash—a deafening shatter that could practically be heard by the floors above and below. Just from the sound alone, one could guess what had broken. In a flash, he yanked open the bathroom door.

Chen Wengang was gripping the sink. Seeing Huo Niansheng enter, he let go and took a step back, pressing his back against the icy tiles. Directly opposite the sliding door, the once smooth and gleaming mirror was now covered in a radiating, spiderweb-like array of cracks. Most of the glass was still stuck to the wall by its adhesive backing, while small shards had fallen into the sink. They reflected off one another, capturing countless images of Chen Wengang and countless deformed, mutilated faces. Within the mirror, his gaze revealed an apathy that made him look almost possessed.

Huo Niansheng tapped his knuckles against the ribbed glass door to signal his presence. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Chen Wengang shifted his gaze to him. He stared at Huo Niansheng for several seconds, squeezed past him, and turned to go back to his room.

Even though a completely unwarranted disaster had struck the household, Huo Niansheng didn’t show any sign of anger. He simply stayed in the bathroom, lowered his head to look at the glass shards in the sink, and picked one up. His expression remained calm, yet his mind kept replaying the look Chen Wengang had just shot him.

Huo Niansheng pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. Chen Wengang was lying on the bed, wrapped in the blanket, facing the wall.

Carrying the first-aid kit, Huo Niansheng walked over and asked, “Did you cut your hand?”

Chen Wengang remained silent. After half a minute, he finally sat up and extended his hand for him to see. There was a cut on the skin just below his pinky finger. Huo Niansheng wiped it with iodine and even cracked a joke, “So honest, smashing it with your own hand. Were there no other tools in the bathroom?”

Chen Wengang still didn’t speak.

Huo Niansheng comforted him further, “Alright, don’t overthink it. Plastic surgery can fix it all later.”

This statement finally elicited a reaction from Chen Wengang. He gave a bitter smile. “That’s not the problem.”

Huo Niansheng asked, “Then what is the problem?”

Chen Wengang withdrew his gaze. In the past, he had never been a caustic person; forget flying into a rage, he rarely even argued with anyone. But right now, he was sinking into a state of self-loathing, a profound sense of defeat weighing heavily on his heart. He would have preferred it if Huo Niansheng had furrowed his brows and demanded to know what was wrong with him.

Huo Niansheng pulled the blanket back over him. “Don’t worry about it. Lie down for a while.”

He closed the door on his way out. Chen Wengang lay back on his pillow, his stomach feeling as if it were stuffed with stones, burning and churning with nausea. His mind was a chaotic mess. The blooming fireworks and those lively sounds returned. The music of a carousel, the clamor of people haggling over prices, electronic dance music blasting from speakers, and the cheers of young men and women. They laughed and screamed, circling relentlessly in his ears.

None of those scenes could bring joy anymore; they had become tedious and entirely meaningless.

Chen Wengang rolled over. Whether he admitted it or not, when Huo Niansheng had kissed him just now, it truly gave him a dim, secret thrill of being liked, of being pursued. At this point in time, this man was the only one left who could offer him a sliver of hope. He had done a lot of mental preparation, sometimes believing he had mustered enough courage, but reality would always shatter him time and time again, making his delusions seem utterly worthless.

Sister Wang, the one responsible for the chores, had left. There was no one to cook lunch, and the bathroom was a disaster zone.

But neither of these were major issues to solve, and Huo Niansheng didn’t even bother his assistant. He made a phone call, and half an hour later, a chef promptly arrived to handle the ingredients, soon setting out a table full of hot and cold dishes.

Only then did he knock on the guest bedroom door again. “Can I come in?”

Hearing his voice, Chen Wengang sat up and smoothed his hair. “It’s not locked.”

Huo Niansheng pushed the door open and simply said, “Hungry? Come out and eat.”

Chen Wengang wasn’t sure if he had fallen asleep or just lain there for several hours. His hair was a mess. He ran a hand through it, apologized in a hoarse voice, and slowly swung his legs off the bed. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you just now. I hope you won’t hold it against me.”

His delivery was stiff and formal, his enunciation somewhat slurred, sounding like an elementary school student reciting a formal apology for the first time.

Huo Niansheng chuckled. “It did give me quite a fright.” Chen Wengang looked up at him. Leaning against the door, he still used that teasing tone. “If the mirror’s gone, it’s gone. As long as no one got hurt, it’s fine. Let’s eat.”

Huo Niansheng was exceptionally magnanimous, tolerating Chen Wengang’s unprovoked outburst—it was only human nature for someone tormented by pain and illness for a long time to eventually become temperamental. The two sat down to eat, neither bringing up the incident again.

When evening came, Huo Niansheng went out again. Only the bathroom remained in its tragic, crime-scene-like state.

Actually, right after they ate lunch, a worker had come over to clean up the disaster, removing the original mirror and sweeping away the shards. However, a new one wasn’t installed in its place. The next time Chen Wengang went to the bathroom to wash up, looking up revealed nothing but a bare wall.

Honestly, he wasn’t used to it either, but since he was the one who had inexplicably destroyed it, he had no right to ask any questions.

Two days later, that patch of wall was covered by a recessed decorative painting depicting a blooming bouquet of lilies. As pretty as the painting was, it awkwardly adorned the space above the sink, looking somewhat comical; no one decorated their home like this. But in fact, following this incident, the number of reflective surfaces in the apartment visibly decreased.

Opposite the shoe-changing stool in the entryway, the shoe cabinet had previously been faced with smooth metal panels, and the wine cabinet doors had been made of reflective glass. Without him realizing it, these items capable of casting reflections were gradually replaced one by one. The remaining two or three mirrors were installed inside the walk-in closet doors, only visible when opened.

Chen Wengang knew Huo Niansheng had misunderstood something. He wasn’t simply afraid of seeing his own face. His resistance stemmed from deeper issues—like his fear of the unknown future, and of intimate relationships he could never possess again.

But this point was very difficult to explain clearly, and it was something even he himself hadn’t fully figured out.

Life still had to go on. Afterwards, Huo Niansheng hired a new nanny.

This auntie, surnamed Meng, was in her fifties. She wasn’t a professional caregiver, but she had a better temper than her predecessor and worked more nimbly; she seemed more suitable in every aspect. Her only flaw was that she was nagging. Since Chen Wengang didn’t like leaving the house, she would constantly try to persuade him, telling him he couldn’t just stay cooped up indoors all the time.

Sometimes, when she needed to go to the supermarket, she would ask the young man to tag along, or she would make time specifically to accompany him for a walk in the park. If Chen Wengang truly didn’t want to go, this tug-of-war could last a long time, until he finally compromised.

But then again, if she didn’t try so hard, Chen Wengang really might have stayed indoors for ten to fifteen days straight.

He locked himself in his room, drawing a circle on the ground and calling it a prison. After all, once he stepped outside, no matter where he went or who he met, he would always be met with strange looks. But avoiding going out wasn’t just because of that; more importantly, he harbored a fear of the strangers walking toward him.

Sometimes Chen Wengang felt disoriented, the world morphing into a restless, unsettling shape before his eyes. Every person in the crowd seemed to hide another monstrous, terrifying face beneath the surface. He had no way of guessing which one might suddenly lash out and hurt him, bringing upon him absolute devastation.

Eventually, Auntie Meng won this invisible war with outside help.

He didn’t know what she had said to her employer, but she even managed to persuade Huo Niansheng to start taking Chen Wengang out. One Friday, he suddenly told Chen Wengang to get dressed, and they went out for dinner at a French restaurant. After that, it became a habit or a routine arrangement.

Almost every weekend, Huo Niansheng would take Chen Wengang to a restaurant to eat. Chen Wengang accepted this; he was willing to go out with Huo Niansheng to eat and drink, but they never again crossed the line of intimacy.

Maintaining this frequency, they soon arrived at the end of the year.

With Christmas approaching and the New Year right on its heels, the streets were exceptionally lively. The arrival of Black Friday triggered a frenzied wave of shopping, as if everything was free, and all the restaurants were packed to the brim. Huo Niansheng had booked a table at a high-end restaurant on the top floor of a department store. But having left his wallet in the car, he patted Chen Wengang’s shoulder and told him to go up first.

The hotpot restaurant downstairs was booming, their queue number already calling past three hundred. Wearing a mask, Chen Wengang walked past the long lines of people to the restaurant upstairs. This place operated on a members-only reservation system; it wasn’t crowded, offering a mere thirty tables.

But even so, there was still a chance of running into people he didn’t want to see.

Zheng Yucheng spotted him first. Sitting across from Zheng Yucheng was Zheng Baoqiu. The siblings were out for a meal for whatever reason, and as Chen Wengang followed the waiter inside to a seat separated by a folding screen, the two parties crashed right into each other.

Zheng Yucheng was the first to react. Throwing down his chopsticks, he rushed over to Chen Wengang. Looking as if he’d been struck by lightning, his face was filled with shock. As if unable to believe the reality before him, his eyes fixated on the right side of Chen Wengang’s face.

Chen Wengang furrowed his brows. Before he could speak, Zheng Baoqiu let out a sharp, involuntary scream.

Zheng Yucheng had already reached out and presumptuously yanked off Chen Wengang’s mask.

The waiter jumped in fright, silently gasping. Zheng Baoqiu wanted to rush forward too, but was blocked by the table. The scene descended into temporary chaos. Feeling somewhat humiliated, Chen Wengang put the mask back on and scolded Zheng Yucheng, “What is wrong with you?”

Zheng Yucheng finally found his voice. “How did you…”

Chen Wengang said coldly, “I’m disfigured, so what? Haven’t you ever seen something so rare?”

Zheng Yucheng was beyond horrified. “I only heard you got a little hurt! How did it turn out like this?”

Zheng Baoqiu was fraught with worry, frozen in place by the atmosphere, holding her breath and not daring to act rashly. If Huo Niansheng hadn’t followed right behind and caught up, the situation might have been very difficult to resolve. He descended like a sudden apparition, separating Zheng Yucheng and warding off Zheng Baoqiu.

Chen Wengang, intentionally or unintentionally, hid behind him.

“Get out of the way, I have something to say.” But Zheng Yucheng was highly agitated and refused to listen. “Wengang—”

Other guests were turning their heads to watch the drama unfold. Huo Niansheng pushed Zheng Yucheng away once more. “Will you only be happy when someone snaps a picture of this?”

Zheng Baoqiu was the first to snap back to her senses. Abandoning her meal, she dragged and pulled her eldest brother home. Suppressing a stomach full of shock and suspicion, she made a gesture to Huo Niansheng, signaling that she would call him later. The waiter finally recovered and pulled out their chairs for them.

Huo Niansheng sat down as if no one else was there and ordered their food as usual. Chen Wengang sat down opposite him. Before long, the dishes were served one by one according to protocol, but the atmosphere had been ruined, rendering the meal tasteless.

Chen Wengang ravaged the salad on his plate with his fork. Huo Niansheng handed him the pepper shaker. “Want some?”

Chen Wengang subconsciously took it without a word, turning the shaker upside down and tapping the cap to sprinkle it over his plate.

Huo Niansheng scoffed. “What, brokenhearted?”

It took Chen Wengang two seconds to react. “Sorry, I spaced out. What did you just say?”

Huo Niansheng placed his fork beside his plate, having lost his appetite, and picked up his glass to drink some water. “I didn’t say anything.”

Chen Wengang lowered his eyes and sighed inwardly. He had actually heard him perfectly well, he was just afraid the man would launch into a lecture about how foolish it was to be half-dead over a man. But at this point, there was truly no need for such lessons anymore; he had learned the hard way. Seeing Zheng Yucheng again, all Chen Wengang felt was a sense of ridicule.

Zheng Yucheng’s shocked face looked like an idiot’s; just thinking of his expression even sparked a trace of impatience in Chen Wengang’s heart. Hiding behind Huo Niansheng earlier and re-examining Zheng Yucheng’s face, he realized that the childhood friend he grew up with wasn’t necessarily all that familiar. The other man looked like a comical clown, squawking and flailing. In Chen Wengang’s eyes, he felt like nothing more than a stranger.

But he deliberately avoided thinking about Zheng Baoqiu, who had also been present. Upon returning to the apartment, Chen Wengang went straight to the guest bedroom.

Huo Niansheng followed behind him, changing his shoes in the entryway. The two hadn’t spoken the entire way home, the silence stretching all the way back to the apartment. Fortunately, Huo Niansheng was already used to his cohabitant’s volatile moods. Once Chen Wengang returned to his room, he strolled over to the bar counter, opened the wine cabinet, and received a call from his cousin.

Chen Wengang cracked his door open slightly, hearing the living room echo with Huo Niansheng’s voice as he dealt with Zheng Baoqiu. Huo Niansheng’s voice was very low, too far to be heard clearly. His attitude was relaxed, sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed.

Chen Wengang had originally wanted to go to the bathroom, but hearing the noise, he gave up on washing up altogether and lay back down on the bed. The moment his head hit the pillow, a soft exhaustion washed over him, and he fell asleep before long. But his sleep was often poor, and in the space between waking and dreaming, he frequently couldn’t distinguish between hallucinations and reality.

That night, Chen Wengang didn’t have a nightmare, but he didn’t have a sweet dream either. It was more like a straightforward retrospective. He had a sense of smell and hearing—the fishy scent of seafood drifting through the market, exaggerated strips of kelp hanging on clotheslines, the sugar figures blown by street vendors, the chiming music of ice cream trucks. Somewhere, someone was playing a harmonica; a teacher was teaching children to sing: Outside the long pavilion, beside the ancient road, fragrant grass meets the jade-green sky…

Chen Wengang jolted awake, the overlapping voices of a children’s choir still echoing vividly in his ears. They sang on an endless loop, as if the repeat button had been pressed, shifting from the sounds of nature to distorted static: Outside the long pavilion, beside the ancient road, fragrant grass meets the jade-green sky…

Huo Niansheng was already preparing for bed. He had showered and dried his hair, and just as he stepped out of the bathroom, he heard a knock on the door.