Chapter 124: Countless voices and laughter rang in his mind
“The gambler inside—that ‘gambling dog’ is no longer a human, anyway; there’s no hope for him to repent, so you can use him as an example to warn the others,” Huo Niansheng said. “Scare the remaining ones, make them point out the mastermind behind the scenes. Don’t let a situation arise where they retract their statements in the end.”
“That’s my intention as well. Don’t you worry, the police are under a lot of pressure, too, and they are worried about public opinion.”
“Check their social connections as well—parents, children, wives. There must be someone left in this world who cares about them.”
“This type of small-scale bullying gang committed a new crime while serving their sentence, which means they show no repentance; the nature of it is even worse,” Lawyer Zhu said. “Legally, the sentencing will definitely be heavy; they won’t be able to escape. They aren’t a monolith on the inside; I think someone will eventually break and talk.”
Huo Niansheng ended the call, his expression cold. He had just arrived downstairs and paused beside 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 still emitted a soft, white light.
Because not every ward was occupied, many rooms were dark. Those that lit up in the darkness were like scattered stars.
Those stars reflected for a long time in Huo Niansheng’s pupils, casting a tenderness and pity upon his face that he himself did not notice.
In truth, it wasn’t that Huo Niansheng was unwilling to visit every day, nor was it that he didn’t want to spend more time with him.
Rather than saying he didn’t want to go, it was more that Chen Wengang didn’t actually need him.
“Saving someone” is a word that sounds grand, and it is also full of self-indulgence. Not everyone who offers to take him in is worth him being moved to tears. Huo Niansheng had picked him up and brought him home without thinking of those extra things. It was like picking up a stray cat—a cat that had been abused—watching it act cautiously, full of defense, needing treatment, needing recovery, needing a safe space.
All of this outweighed the need for a stranger to be sentimental by his side.
Chen Wengang stayed in the hospital for over a month in total.
When he was discharged, autumn had completely ended, and the weather forecast predicted a cold snap.
He was effectively homeless, so he had no choice but to move back to the apartment in the Yunding Building that belonged to Huo Niansheng.
On the day of his discharge, Huo Niansheng went to pick him up.
The driver, Lao Li, and Amanda helped pack up. Chen Wengang had actually packed in advance; everything was neatly placed in the corner of the ward, waiting for the driver to carry it down. Huo Niansheng, with his hands in his pockets, stood by the window—the place where he always looked out.
He watched the driver open the trunk downstairs, wondering what kind of scenery there was to see in this unchanging view.
As Huo Niansheng pondered this, he suddenly turned his head. Chen Wengang was sitting quietly by the bed.
Noticing the gaze, Chen Wengang looked up at him, returning an inquiring look.
For a moment, an indescribable emotion surged in Huo Niansheng’s heart, like heavy snow on a winter day, fluttering down in an instant.
In fact, it rarely snowed in this city. It was during his time abroad, traveling the world—sometimes for business—that he had seen such sights in cities at higher latitudes: in Switzerland, in Finland, in Syracuse.
Huo Niansheng recalled that back then, he had simply walked away. The world was vast, leaving that little child in his memory far behind.
Then, in the blink of an eye, he didn’t know how, but the other person had truly grown up.
But not everyone’s growth has to be accompanied by painful lessons and costs.
Amanda walked in with the discharge papers, sensing a slightly different atmosphere. Huo Niansheng said, “Let’s go.”
Chen Wengang went back with him. When they arrived at the apartment, Huo Niansheng suddenly asked again: “Will you be okay by yourself?”
Chen Wengang paused, asking him hesitantly, “You are still not living here, right?” His meaning was unclear.
Huo Niansheng smiled and countered, “Do you want me to live here, or do you not want to see me?”
Chen Wengang misinterpreted the intent behind his question; he didn’t understand that Huo Niansheng was asking for his preference.
As he stood there stunned, Huo Niansheng looked at him for a moment, picked up his suit jacket, and said they would decide later, telling him to get some sleep before heading out. He might have been going to a nightclub, or perhaps he had other social commitments—Chen Wengang wasn’t entirely sure.
After that, Huo Niansheng never explicitly stated whether he would live there or not; in any case, he was the owner and could come and go as he pleased. Huo Niansheng would come to this apartment in the Yunding Building every day or two. Sometimes he would stay the night in the master bedroom; sometimes he would just come back to eat a meal and then leave.
The cooking was done by a caregiver. After being discharged, Amanda no longer followed Chen Wengang, but they had hired an additional person for the apartment. Her surname was Wang, and it was said that she had rich nursing knowledge and experience, as well as a nutritionist certificate. She took over the work of taking care of Chen Wengang.
At first, Chen Wengang felt it wasn’t necessary. He wanted to decline—having a dedicated caregiver at home made him seem like a useless person. But this matter wasn’t up to him; it was Huo Niansheng’s idea, so it was hired. Besides, for this caregiver, Sister Wang, the employer was a rich man living in a high-end apartment who was generous with his money, so she was also willing to stay.
In this way, she was responsible for supervising Chen Wengang’s medication, developing nutritional recipes, and preparing his three meals a day.
Like Amanda, she would also report the situation at home to Huo Niansheng. Chen Wengang knew all of this.
After two weeks of trying, they got along peacefully.
Objectively speaking, Chen Wengang was an easy person to serve. Caregivers often face patients who have lost the ability to take care of themselves; he was far from that point, nor did he have a temper or the habit of bossing people around. He was as calm as a plant that only needed regular watering.
Even when he heard Sister Wang on the phone in private, calling him “that blind man” he was looking after, he simply pretended to be deaf and dumb.
Sister Wang created a rich and varied menu, posting it on the refrigerator, but it wasn’t always followed. When Huo Niansheng came back to eat, the meals were usually fragrant and delicious. If he wasn’t at home, the chances of having bland, watery dishes increased.
But Chen Wengang didn’t care much about what he ate, so he didn’t make a fuss about it either.
That night, when Huo Niansheng came through the door, it was just past 8:00 PM, but he was told that Chen Wengang had already gone to bed early.
Sister Wang was in the kitchen. Hearing the sound, she wiped her hands and walked out. A fragrance wafted from the kitchen—there was still soup simmering on the stove.
She asked the employer if he wanted a bowl, and Huo Niansheng, while changing his shoes, said casually that there was no need. She explained why Chen Wengang hadn’t eaten: “Mr. Chen went to the supermarket today and encountered something unpleasant.”
“What happened?” Huo Niansheng’s hand, pulling at his tie, slowed by a beat.
“Nothing much, he just met two unmannered children who chased him and called him ‘one-eyed dragon’ a few times,” she said. “So, I saw that Mr. Chen wasn’t very happy; he argued a few times with their parents, and then he came back.”
Huo Niansheng said “Oh.” “You were there at the time? What did you say?”
“That’s… they’re just children, straightforward. You can’t really hold it against them.”
“Forget it. He didn’t eat anything tonight?”
“Mr. Chen said he had no appetite and only ate some fruit.”
Huo Niansheng cast a sideways glance at her and kicked the shoes he’d taken off to the doorway.
Sister Wang, observing his expression, realized the soup was about ready. She returned to the kitchen to turn off the fire, placed the ceramic pot on the counter, and without another move, greeted Huo Niansheng and returned to the nanny’s room to rest.
Huo Niansheng stood for a moment before entering the kitchen. He pulled open the refrigerator, took out a can of sparkling water, and glanced into the fridge in passing.
Although it was winter, the refrigerator was stuffed full of all kinds of fruit—imported and out-of-season ones were all there.
Other sections held organic vegetables. In addition, the freezer contained various high-end meats and seafood. Good things in the fridge basically never ran out; no matter how expensive the ingredients, they could be found here. Huo Niansheng was used to living extravagantly, so he certainly wouldn’t be stingy about raising one person.
Chen Wengang went to bed early and woke up early the next day, waking at 6:00 AM.
The living room was clean and quiet; there was no movement. At first, he didn’t even know someone had come back last night.
When he suddenly heard a sound, Chen Wengang was on the balcony, smoking a cigarette against the railing.
Usually, Huo Niansheng couldn’t get up this early; today was an exception. It even gave Chen Wengang a fright. He turned his head to look inside and saw Huo Niansheng wearing clothes over his pajamas. Sister Wang looked very aggrieved in front of him; listening through the door, he couldn’t hear what was being said.
Huo Niansheng wore a fake smile on his face. Chen Wengang opened the glass door, and she looked at him as if she had seen a savior.
“Oh, Little Chen, tell the boss how I’ve been doing my work, how dedicated I am—you know, don’t you…”
Chen Wengang curled his lips, flicked the ash, and didn’t speak. He had no interest in tattling when she was slacking off, and as for why she was suddenly being kicked out, he was equally indifferent. He watched coldly, as if he didn’t care at all about anyone else’s fate.
Sister Wang was clearly reluctant to give up such a high-paying, easy job, but she had to leave anyway. As she left, she glared at him with resentment.
Chen Wengang had already turned his back to continue smoking, so he didn’t notice anything.
Sister Wang spent half an hour packing a travel bag. Huo Niansheng didn’t know if he had gone back to catch up on sleep, as he didn’t come out for another twenty minutes. He went into the kitchen to rummage for something to eat, then also came to the balcony: “Why are you up so early?”
Chen Wengang said good morning: “I went to sleep early yesterday, and I didn’t know you had come. I didn’t hear a sound.”
Recently, a cold wave had passed through, and the temperature had dropped another seven or eight degrees, making it feel frozen.
The interior had central air conditioning, maintaining a constant temperature and humidity, keeping it comfortable and pleasant, but the balcony was semi-open, and the cold wind rushed in. Chen Wengang wore a thin sweater over his pajamas, the collar pulled flat, revealing a long, white neck at the opening.
The balcony had a railing, and he tilted his head, looking through the prison bars at the divided sky, like a trapped bird.
Huo Niansheng took in his outline and handed him a croissant.
Chen Wengang took it and teased: “I said from the start I didn’t need a caregiver, and now that you’ve hired one, you’re kicking her out.”
Huo Niansheng said: “Do you like that kind of person who eats inside and out? It’s not too late to call her back.”
Chen Wengang shook his head, rested the cigarette between his fingers on the ashtray, and ate the bread in two bites: “No. Good or bad, there’s no need.”
He had specifically taken a crystal ashtray to the balcony, clearly a habitual offender. The tray was piled full of ash and cigarette butts. As he burned the one in his hand, the body of the cigarette shortened bit by bit. Huo Niansheng asked: “Didn’t you quit when you were in the hospital? Why are you smoking again?”
While speaking, Chen Wengang had already picked it back up. Huo Niansheng suddenly reached out and took it from his hand. Chen Wengang knew he was in the wrong, so he let go, but the half-smoked cigarette was put to Huo Niansheng’s own lips. He lowered his head slightly and took a deep drag.
Chen Wengang was stunned. Before he could react, he opened his eyes wide—
Huo Niansheng pressed the cigarette butt into the crystal ashtray and hooked his hand behind Chen Wengang’s head.
For a moment, Chen Wengang didn’t even have the thought of struggling; perhaps it was because the other man’s movements were considered gentle.
Huo Niansheng lowered his head, holding his soft lips, grinding and rubbing against them. Warmth covered him, and along with it came the smell and texture of tobacco. A roar went off in his brain, as if fireworks had exploded, in clusters of brilliant, colorful light. In that moment, it reminded Chen Wengang of many scenes where fireworks were set off—carnivals at the amusement park, the street market at the Lantern Festival, bonfire parties on the beach…
Countless voices and joyous laughter rang out in his mind, and then they withered away one by one, returning to nothingness.
Chen Wengang was like a marionette, letting Huo Niansheng wrap his arm around his underarm and pull him into his embrace.
Huo Niansheng’s movements were not impatient; he proceeded step by step, mastering the rhythm. In the brief time, Chen Wengang lost a portion of his ability to think, but his memory function was unusually active. He remembered Zheng Yucheng from several years ago, and that summer night after the birthday party had ended. Under the lights that hadn’t yet been taken down, the outline lit by red and blue light, the secret confession, and a clumsy kiss.
The past was still as clear as if it had happened yesterday.
Compared to that Zheng Yucheng, who hadn’t yet shed his youthful vigor, Huo Niansheng was a completely different kind of person, a different kind of man.
Zheng Yucheng was spirited and full of the vitality of someone who had love within his grasp. Huo Niansheng was different; he was at ease, yet distant, precisely mastering the distance he wanted, bringing an instinctive sense of danger.
It was as if once you fell into his hands, there would be no possibility of escaping again.
Chen Wengang pressed both hands against his chest, loosening and tightening, until finally, he gripped Huo Niansheng’s clothes.
It wasn’t until the cell phone rang for the second time, refusing to give up—signifying that it wasn’t a nuisance call and that the person calling likely really had something urgent—that they suddenly parted. It was Huo Niansheng’s phone that was ringing. He straightened Chen Wengang’s collar: “Go inside. It’s cold out here.”
Chen Wengang entered the living room, but he had a feeling of not knowing where to put himself.
He realized his face was as hot as if it were on fire. Everything that had just happened felt like a delusional, fictional construction of mental disorder.
Yet the touch and temperature of the sucking remained between his lips and teeth, truly real. He turned his head; Huo Niansheng was still on the balcony talking on the phone, his expression calm, even laughing and joking, as if the protagonist of the languid scene just now didn’t include himself.
Chen Wengang calmed down as well. This kiss was more shocking than languid.
The inner confusion and bewilderment were like a whirlpool turning larger and larger, wrapping him entirely. His childhood friend Zheng Yucheng’s confession had been a matter of course. For someone like Huo Niansheng, why would he do this? Did he know what he was doing?
Chen Wengang lowered his head and saw that his sleeve had brushed ash in the ashtray. He dusted it off and pushed open the bathroom door.
Turning the faucet, white water rushed out. He raised his head; the mirror above the sink was bright.
The person inside was looking back at him with one eye.
Huo Niansheng hung up the phone and stayed on the balcony for another half minute before walking back and closing the sliding door.
There was no shadow of Chen Wengang in his line of sight. Huo Niansheng waited for a while, only to hear a loud noise—a crash, deafening, which could almost be heard on the floors above and below. Just hearing the sound, one could guess what had broken. He strode over and pulled open the bathroom door.
Chen Wengang was leaning on the sink. Seeing Huo Niansheng come in, he let go and took a step back, his back against the cold tile.
Opposite the sliding door, the mirror, which had originally been smooth and gleaming, had cobweb-like cracks spreading out radially.
Most of the mirror was still glued to the wall by the backing tape, but some small shards had fallen into the sink. They reflected each other, casting countless Chen Wengangs and countless deformed and mutilated faces. In the mirror, he revealed a look of indifference, as if he had been possessed.
Huo Niansheng tapped his finger on the glass, signaling that he had arrived: “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Chen Wengang turned his gaze toward him.
He stared at Huo Niansheng for a few seconds, squeezed past him, turned around, and went back to his room.
Although the house had suffered a disaster for no reason, Huo Niansheng didn’t show any irritation. He just stayed in the bathroom, lowered his head to look at the glass shards in the sink, picked one up, his expression still calm, but in his mind was still the expression Chen Wengang had just given him.
Huo Niansheng pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. Chen Wengang was lying in bed wrapped in a quilt, facing the wall.
Huo Niansheng walked over with the medicine box: “Did you cut your hand?”
Chen Wengang didn’t say a word. After half a minute, he still sat up and held out his hand for him to see.
The skin under his little finger had a cut. Huo Niansheng wiped it with iodophor and even made a joke: “So honest, using your own hand to smash it? Were there no other tools in the bathroom?” Chen Wengang still didn’t speak.
He comforted him again: “Alright, don’t overthink it; you can get plastic surgery later.”
To this sentence, Chen Wengang finally had a reaction. He smiled bitterly: “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—let alone throwing a fit, he had rarely even had a dispute with anyone. At this moment, he had fallen into a state of self-loathing; he felt defeated in his heart. He wished even more that Huo Niansheng would furrow his brows and question him about what was going on.
Huo Niansheng covered him with the quilt again: “Don’t worry about it, lie down for a while.”
When he went out, he closed the door. Chen Wengang lay down on the pillow, his stomach feeling like it was stuffed with stones; it was both heartburn-inducing and nauseating.
His mind was a mess, and the exploding fireworks and those lively sounds came back. The carousel music, the clamor of bargaining, the electronic dance music from speakers, and the cheering of young men and women—they talked, laughed, and screamed, circling endlessly in his ears.
None of those scenes could bring joy anymore; they became boring and meaningless.
Chen Wengang turned over. Whether he admitted it or not, just now, when Huo Niansheng kissed him, it had indeed given him a kind of gloomy joy of being liked and pursued. At this point, only this person could still give him a bit of hope. He had also made a lot of psychological preparations; sometimes he thought his courage was enough, but reality would shatter him over and over again, making his delusions look worthless.
Sister Wang, who was responsible for the work, was gone, so there was no one to cook lunch, and the bathroom remained a mess.
But none of it was a big problem to solve, and Huo Niansheng didn’t even bother his assistant. He made a call, and half an hour later, a chef came to handle the ingredients, setting a table full of cold dishes and hot food.
Only then did he knock on the door of the guest bedroom again: “May I come in?”
Chen Wengang heard his voice, sat up, and tidied his hair: “The door isn’t locked.”
Huo Niansheng pushed the door and entered, only saying: “Are you hungry? Come out and eat.”
Chen Wengang didn’t know if he had slept or just lain there for a few hours, but his hair was a mess. He tidied it with his hand and apologized in a hoarse voice, slowly moving his legs down: “I didn’t mean to lose my temper at you earlier; I hope you don’t take it to heart.”
He spoke stiffly and rigidly, his words a bit slurred, like a primary school student being taught how to make a formal apology for the first time.
Huo Niansheng smiled: “It did give me a fright.” Chen Wengang looked up at him. He was leaning against the door, still in that mocking tone. “If you don’t want the mirror, don’t have it; it’s fine as long as you didn’t hurt anyone. Let’s eat.”
Huo Niansheng acted magnanimous; he tolerated Chen Wengang’s unprovoked explosion—it was only human nature for someone tormented by pain to eventually develop a strange temper. The two sat at the dining table to eat, and neither mentioned the incident again.
By evening, Huo Niansheng went out again.
Only the bathroom remained in the miserable state of a crime scene.
Actually, workers had come over in the afternoon to clean up the tragedy, dismantling the original mirror and sweeping up the shards, but they didn’t put a new one back up. Later, when Chen Wengang went to the bathroom to wash up again, he looked up to find only a bare wall.
He wasn’t used to it himself, but since he had destroyed it inexplicably, he had no right to ask anything.
Two days later, this wall was replaced with an intaglio decorative painting, carving a bunch of lilies in full bloom.
The painting was pretty enough, but it decorated the space above the sink in an incongruous way, looking somewhat ridiculous; no one would decorate a house like this. But in fact, after this incident, the smooth surfaces in the apartment that could reflect a person visibly decreased.
Previously, opposite the shoe-changing bench in the entryway, the shoe cabinet was covered with smooth metal, and the wine cabinet doors used reflective glass.
These things that could reflect a person’s silhouette were replaced, bit by bit, without him noticing.
The remaining two or three limited mirrors were installed in the closets in the walk-in wardrobe, which needed to be opened to be seen.
Chen Wengang knew that Huo Niansheng had misunderstood something. He wasn’t simply afraid of seeing his own countenance. His resistance came from something at a deeper level, such as the fear of an unknown future and the intimate relationship he could no longer possess.
But this was hard to explain; it was something even he himself hadn’t figured out.
Life still had to go on. After this, Huo Niansheng hired a new nanny.
This time, the aunt’s surname was Meng, in her fifties. She wasn’t a professional caregiver, but her temper was better than the previous one, her movements were more agile, and she looked more suitable in every aspect. Her only flaw was being nagging; Chen Wengang didn’t like to go out, so she would keep persuading him, telling him he couldn’t just stay cooped up at home.
Sometimes when she went to the supermarket, she would ask the young man to go with her, or she would make time specifically to accompany him for a walk in the park.
If Chen Wengang really didn’t want to, the tug-of-war could last a long time until he compromised.
But having said that, if she hadn’t tried so hard, Chen Wengang might indeed not have gone out for ten days or half a month at a time.
He locked himself in his room, drawing a circle as a prison. After all, once he went out, no matter where he walked or whom he met, he would always encounter strange looks. But not going out wasn’t just for this reason; it was more because he was fearful of the strangers walking toward him.
Sometimes Chen Wengang felt bewildered. The world in his eyes had turned into another kind of restless form. Everyone in the crowd seemed to be hiding another face with fangs and claws. He had no way of guessing which one would suddenly explode and hurt someone, bringing him disaster.
Later on, Aunt Meng won this invisible war through outside reinforcements.
He didn’t know what she said to the employer, but she even persuaded Huo Niansheng to start taking Chen Wengang out. One Friday, he suddenly told Chen Wengang to change his clothes, and they went to a French restaurant for a meal, after which it became a habit or a routine arrangement.
Basically, every weekend, Huo Niansheng would take Chen Wengang to find a restaurant for a meal. Chen Wengang accepted this, and he was willing to go out with Huo Niansheng to eat and drink, but no cross-boundary behavior ever happened between them again.
Maintaining this frequency, in the blink of an eye, it was the end of the year.
Christmas was approaching, the New Year was to follow, and the streets were lively and extraordinary.
The arrival of Black Friday brought a shopping spree in the stores that looked as if things were free, and all the restaurants were overcrowded. Huo Niansheng had reserved a seat at a high-end restaurant on the top floor of a department store, but his wallet had been left in the car. He patted Chen Wengang’s shoulder and told him to go up first.
The hot pot restaurant downstairs was extremely popular, with the calling numbers reaching the three-hundreds. Chen Wengang, wearing a mask, passed the long lines of crowds and walked to the upstairs restaurant. This place implemented a membership reservation system; it wasn’t crowded, only releasing a mere thirty tables.
But even so, there was still a probability that he would meet someone he didn’t want to see.
Zheng Yucheng discovered him first. Opposite Zheng Yucheng sat Zheng Baoqiu.
The brother and sister were out for a meal for some reason. Chen Wengang followed the waiter inside, who led him to a seat separated by a folding screen, and the two sides bumped right into each other. Zheng Yucheng was the first to react; he dropped his chopsticks and rushed to Chen Wengang.
Zheng Yucheng was struck by lightning, his face shocked. As if he couldn’t believe the facts, his eyes stared fixedly at Chen Wengang’s right face.
Chen Wengang knitted his brows, not having time to speak, when Zheng Baoqiu let out a scream, producing a sharp sound.
Zheng Yucheng had already reached out and pulled Chen Wengang’s mask off without permission.
The waiter was also frightened, emitting a sharp intake of breath. Zheng Baoqiu also wanted to come forward, but was separated by the table. The scene was chaotic for a moment. Chen Wengang felt a bit embarrassed; he put the mask back on and scolded Zheng Yucheng: “What’s wrong with you?”
Zheng Yucheng finally found his voice: “How did you…?”
Chen Wengang said coldly: “Disfigured. So what? Have you never seen such a rare sight?”
Zheng Yucheng was incredibly horrified: “I only heard that you suffered a small injury! How did it end up like this?”
Zheng Baoqiu was filled with anxiety, frozen in place by the atmosphere, holding her breath and not daring to act presumptuously. If Huo Niansheng hadn’t caught up closely behind him, this scene might have been difficult to end for a while. He seemed to descend suddenly, separating Zheng Yucheng and discouraging Zheng Baoqiu.
Chen Wengang intentionally or unintentionally hid behind him.
“Move aside, I have something to say.” However, Zheng Yucheng was agitated and didn’t listen to the obstruction. “Wengang—”
Guests turned their heads one after another to watch the excitement, and Huo Niansheng pushed Zheng Yucheng away again: “Do you only feel happy if you get filmed?”
Zheng Baoqiu reacted first; she didn’t want to eat the meal anymore, and she dragged her elder brother home. She held back her full belly of suspicion and surprise, made a gesture to Huo Niansheng, signaling that she would call later. The waiter also just came back to his senses and pulled out the chairs for them.
Huo Niansheng sat down as if no one were around and ordered the meal as usual. Chen Wengang also sat down opposite him.
Before long, dishes were served one by one in an orderly manner, but the atmosphere had been ruined, and the meal was eaten tastelessly.
Chen Wengang used a fork to torment the salad on his plate, and Huo Niansheng handed him the pepper bottle: “Do you want some?”
Chen Wengang subconsciously took it and, without saying a word, turned the bottle upside down, flicking the lid to sprinkle it on the plate.
Huo Niansheng sneered: “What, sad?”
Chen Wengang paused for two seconds before reacting: “Sorry, I was distracted. What did you just say?”
Huo Niansheng put the fork beside the plate, stopped eating, and picked up the cup to drink water: “I didn’t say anything.”
Chen Wengang lowered his eyes and sighed in his heart.
Actually, he had heard clearly, but he was afraid this person would want to give a lecture on how stupid it was to die for a man. But as of today, that really didn’t need to be taught anymore; he had learned his lesson. When seeing Zheng Yucheng again, there was only ridicule left in Chen Wengang’s heart.
Zheng Yucheng’s shocked face looked like an idiot’s. Thinking of his expression even made a trace of impatience rise in Chen Wengang’s heart.
Just now, he hid behind Huo Niansheng and re-examined Zheng Yucheng’s face, only to realize that the childhood friend who grew up with him might not really be that familiar after all. The other person was like a funny clown, shrieking and shouting. Looking at it through Chen Wengang’s eyes, he only felt it was very strange.
But he deliberately avoided thinking about Zheng Baoqiu, who was also present. When he returned to the apartment, Chen Wengang went to the guest bedroom.
Huo Niansheng followed behind him, changing his shoes at the entryway.
On the way home, neither of them spoke. The silence continued until the apartment. Fortunately, Huo Niansheng was already accustomed to the unpredictable moods of his cohabitant. After Chen Wengang returned to his room, he paced to the bar, opened the wine cabinet, and received a call from his cousin.
Chen Wengang slightly pushed the door open a crack and heard Huo Niansheng’s voice echoing in the living room, dealing with Zheng Baoqiu.
Huo Niansheng’s voice was very low, and it was hard to hear clearly from a distance. He was in a relaxed mood, sitting on the sofa, crossing his legs.
Chen Wengang had originally wanted to go to the bathroom, but hearing the sound, he simply gave up on washing up and lay back on the bed. Once his head hit the pillow, fatigue washed over him softly, and he fell asleep after a while. But he often didn’t sleep well; between waking and sleeping, he often couldn’t distinguish hallucinations from dreams.
This day, it wasn’t a nightmare, but it wasn’t a sweet dream either. It was more like a straightforward look back. He had a sense of smell and hearing—the market floating with the fishy smell of seafood, exaggerated seaweed hanging on the clothesline, the sugar man blown by street vendors, the ice cream truck playing music, someone unknown playing a harmonica, teachers teaching children to sing, Outside the long pavilion, by the ancient road, the fragrance of grass covers the sky…
Chen Wengang woke up with a start. The layers of children’s voices were still echoing truly in his ears.
They sang repeatedly and unceasingly, as if the loop button had been pressed—from the sound of nature to sizzling distortion—Outside the long pavilion, by the ancient road, the fragrance of grass covers the sky…
Huo Niansheng had planned to sleep. He had washed up, wiped his hair dry, and as he came out of the bathroom, he heard a knock on the door.
