Xiang Xi didn’t know how the two uncles lying next to him had managed to survive as drifters to this age. Their hair was so dirty it looked like a wig, yet they had no sense of self-preservation. Outside, a group of people were laughing and cursing, already at the entrance of the ATM booth, but the two men were still asleep, not moving at all.

“Hey,” Xiang Xi knew that running out now would mean walking straight into a beating. He could only jump over and kick the two men on the ground, whispering urgently, “Get up!”

There were four people outside, seemingly drunk. Although there were three people inside the booth, their combat effectiveness was practically negligible.

The two men, after being kicked, finally woke up and sat up. But when they saw the beer bottles in the hands of the intruders, they froze in confusion.

Damn it.

Xiang Xi cursed in his heart. There was no way to fight back in this situation. He quickly hid the small machete behind his back and slipped it into his sleeve.

Then he crouched in the corner, hugging his head, with his backpack pressed under his butt.

All he could do now was submit. Getting beaten wasn’t a big deal, but his bag couldn’t be taken. Although he had secretly tucked the money into his underwear while the two men were asleep, the bag still held his little trinkets—his past.

The group of men walked in laughing, smashing beer bottles against the walls and glass.

Xiang Xi stayed silent, just hugging his head and staring at the ground, watching the feet moving around him, feeling nervous.

A few days ago, he had seen on the news that someone had vented their anger by severely injuring a drifter in an ATM booth. If he ended up in the hospital again… he’d better not go to Cheng Boyan’s hospital, or Cheng Boyan might never want to see him again.

“Is this kid a runaway who had a fight with his family?” One of them tapped Xiang Xi’s head with a bottle. “He’s dressed pretty neatly.”

Xiang Xi didn’t respond, still hugging his head.

These men didn’t hit him too hard, but they smashed things around the booth and kicked the two men a few times. Then one of them stood next to the ATM machine and urinated.

Xiang Xi held his breath, not wanting to smell it. If Cheng Boyan were here, he’d probably be scrubbing himself with disinfectant…

“What’s in the bag?” One of the men, seeing Xiang Xi silent, bent down and grabbed the bag under his butt, tugging at it.

“Nothing,” Xiang Xi answered in a muffled voice, pressing his butt down harder.

“Oh, let me see,” the man said, pulling harder, and the bag was halfway out.

“Don’t touch my bag,” Xiang Xi said, finally letting go of his head and grabbing the man’s wrist.

The man was clearly surprised, not expecting Xiang Xi to resist. He hit Xiang Xi’s head hard with the bottle. “What the hell did you say?”

“I said,” Xiang Xi stood up, pulling the bag onto his back, “don’t touch my bag.”

“Fuck!” The man reacted, shoving Xiang Xi. “You looking to die?”

Xiang Xi was pushed back against the glass. As the man stepped forward, about to swing the bottle at his head, Xiang Xi raised his arm. The small machete hidden in his sleeve revealed half its blade, the tip pressing against the man’s throat.

The bottle stopped mid-swing, and the man’s eyes widened. He shouted, “Fuck! He’s got a knife!”

“Damn it!” someone cursed, grabbing the man’s shoulder and pulling him back.

Xiang Xi retracted the knife and was about to bend down and escape through the gap between the men when someone grabbed his arm. “Xiao Zhan?”

“Huh?” Xiang Xi instinctively wanted to resist, but hearing the voice, he stopped and turned to see a familiar face. “Tan… Xiao Kang?”

“It’s really you! Xiao Zhan?” The man suddenly got excited, pulling Xiang Xi closer. “Damn, what are you doing here?”

Xiang Xi was surprised. He hadn’t expected to run into an acquaintance in this situation. Although it had been two or three years since they last met, Tan Xiaokang was indeed an old neighbour from Dawali.

Tan Xiaokang wasn’t exactly close to him—they weren’t the same type of people.

Although Zhaojiayao was a den of scum, there were also ordinary, low-level folks living there, like Tan Xiaokang’s grandmother.

This guy had lived with his grandmother in Dawali, not mixing with their crowd, but he wasn’t exactly a good guy either. Two or three years ago, after Tan’s grandmother died, Tan Xiaokang moved to the city to live with his parents.

Xiang Xi found him annoying—clingy, always leaning in too close when talking, putting an arm around your shoulder, speaking right into your ear like he was whispering.

He hadn’t expected to meet him again under these circumstances.

“You…” Tan Xiaokang wanted to ask more, but after glancing at the people around him, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he slung an arm around Xiang Xi’s shoulder and waved at the others. “This is an old friend I haven’t seen in years. It’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding. Let’s go, let’s go…”

Xiang Xi was dragged out of the ATM booth by Tan Xiaokang, who kept his arm around his shoulder. He struggled a few times before finally breaking free.

As he watched the group leave, he was about to say goodbye to Tan Xiaokang and leave when Tan Xiaokang grabbed him again. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” Xiang Xi said.

“Did you have a falling out with Uncle Ping? Nowhere to go?” Tan Xiaokang checked the time on his phone. “It’s so late… Come stay at my place for the night. It’s freezing out here.”

*

When Cheng Boyan woke up in the middle of the night, he found himself drenched in sweat, as if he’d been fished out of water.

He sat up groggily and turned on the light, unsure what he had been dreaming about. The amount of sweat made it feel like he’d been ploughing a field—not the kind where you drive an ox, but the kind where you carry the plough yourself…

He got out of bed and went to the bathroom, wiping off the sweat with a towel. After changing into a fresh set of pyjamas, he sat back on the bed but couldn’t fall asleep.

He sighed, stood up, and paced around the room a couple of times. Feeling a bit chilly, he hesitated, then opened the drawer where he kept his medicine, took out a thermometer, and sat down at the table.

He had a slight fever, not too serious. Cheng Boyan frowned, unable to figure out why he was running a fever.

His phone, lying on the table, was blinking. He picked it up and saw an unread text message.

The message was from Lin He, saying that the supermarket would open on Saturday and inviting him to come by if he had time. If not, he could drop by another day to “send money.”

Cheng Boyan smiled. Lin He had a proper job, so the supermarket was probably managed by his boyfriend. It hadn’t been long since they’d mentioned the idea, and now it was already happening. In just a few months, they’d actually opened it.

Cheng Boyan looked at the thermometer, which read 38 degrees Celsius. Even Lin He had settled down now, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit envious.

He had no one to wake up in the middle of the night to complain to when he had a fever. Not that he needed to complain to anyone, but whether he wanted to complain was one thing, and whether there was someone to complain to was another.

Still unable to sleep, he opened the drawer, idly pulled out a coloured marker, propped his leg on the table, and drew a smiley face on his knee.

When he threw the marker back into the drawer, he noticed a cartoon band-aid inside—probably one from the small pack of band-aids Xiang Xi had left behind, which had fallen into the drawer.

He took it out, peeled off the backing, and stuck it below the smiley face on his knee.

“Ah…” He closed his eyes and stretched, feeling utterly bored in the middle of the night.

After sitting in a daze for a while, he got up and went back to the bedroom. He pulled a book of reference materials from the bookshelf, wrapped himself in the blanket, and started reading.

*

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, and that’s fine,” Tan Xiaokang said as he took out his keys and opened the door. “I live alone now, so it’s no problem for you to stay here.”

“I thought you lived with your mom?” Xiang Xi walked in. Tan Xiaokang’s apartment was old, with many of the floor tiles cracked and the place not particularly tidy. Still, it was dozens of times better than the ATM booth.

“I work here, and it’s too far from home, so I rented this place to live by myself,” Tan Xiaokang said with a smile, putting an arm around Xiang Xi’s shoulder and leading him inside. “Living alone is more comfortable, right?… This is the bedroom. We can squeeze in together tonight.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Xiang Xi said. He had only ever squeezed in with Mantou before, and it wasn’t comfortable. Squeezing in with Tan Xiaokang would be even worse.

“Come on,” Tan Xiaokang leaned in close to his ear. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. Why are you being so distant? We can chat if we squeeze in together.”

Xiang Xi really didn’t want his new “life” to start with Tan Xiaokang, but some things were beyond his control.

He had nowhere else to go and no way to establish himself. He could only lie in bed, listening to Tan Xiaokang ramble on about his experiences over the past two years.

“You tired?” Tan Xiaokang asked after talking for a long time without getting a response.

“You’re not drunk—you’re high,” Xiang Xi said with a laugh. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Yeah, I’m tired,” Tan Xiaokang also laughed, reaching over to turn off the light. “Let’s sleep. I have work tomorrow.”

“Where do you work?” Xiang Xi asked.

Tan Xiaokang had dropped out after middle school. Although he hadn’t gotten involved in the underworld, he had always been a bit of a slacker. Now, even someone like him had a job and could earn a legitimate living. Xiang Xi was a little envious.

“Fengbo Village. I’m an apprentice,” Tan Xiaokang said, resting his head on his arm. “Hey, Xiao Zhan, are you really not going to stick with Uncle Ping anymore?”

“I can’t stay in Dawali forever,” Xiang Xi said vaguely. Although Tan Xiaokang didn’t have much to do with Uncle Ping, he had still grown up in Zhaojiayao. Xiang Xi didn’t trust him.

He didn’t trust anyone.

Well, there were people he trusted, but the people he trusted probably didn’t trust him…

“So what are your plans?” Tan Xiaokang moved closer to him.

“I don’t know,” Xiang Xi scooted away a bit. “Can I… go to your place?”

“You want to? I can ask around. I’m pretty familiar there,” Tan Xiaokang said enthusiastically, propping himself up on his elbow to look at him. “But you don’t have any experience, so if you go, you’d probably…”

“It’s fine. I’ll do anything,” Xiang Xi said.

“Then I’ll ask for you. Do you have an ID?” Tan Xiaokang asked.

“Zhan Hongtu’s,” Xiang Xi replied.

“…That should work. If you are introduced by an acquaintance, no one will check. If they do, we’ll just leave,” Tan Xiaokang laughed. “If you can go, how are you going to thank me?”

“Let’s talk about that if it works out,” Xiang Xi said, turning to face the wall and saying no more.

Xiang Xi had never really thought about how difficult it would be to start living like a “normal” person. Now he realized how naive he had been.

He thought that as long as he got rid of Uncle Ping and left Zhaojiayao, he could leave his past life behind and start a life that truly belonged to him.

But someone without an ID, someone whose existence was only known to himself…

What could he do? He had already taken this step, and there was no turning back. No matter what, he had to keep going. How it turned out was another matter.

*

Cheng Boyan didn’t have time to attend the grand opening of Lin He’s supermarket on Saturday. He was on duty that day, and after the fever, although it had subsided, his throat had been hurting ever since. All he wanted to do after work was go home and stay there.

Just as he walked out of the hospital gates, Lin He called.

“Let’s have a meal together in a couple of days. We’ll pick you up from the hospital and drop you back afterward,” Lin He said. “You have to give us that much face, right?”

“Fine, fine,” Cheng Boyan said with a laugh. “No need for pickups and drop-offs. Just please keep the meal short. I need to go home and sleep.”

“No problem!” Lin He said.

As soon as he hung up, before he could even reach the parking lot, his phone rang again. Cheng Boyan sighed and took out his phone. There had been a lot of patients in his department today, and he was worried he wouldn’t make it to the parking lot before being called back to help.

The number on the screen was unfamiliar, so it probably wasn’t someone from the hospital. He answered the call. “Hello?”

“Cheng Boyan?” A somewhat familiar voice came through. “Dr. Cheng?”

“Yes, this is…,” Cheng Boyan paused. “Xiang Xi?”

“Yeah! It’s me!” Xiang Xi’s voice was cheerful on the other end. “This is… new…”

The signal on Xiang Xi’s side was terrible, and Cheng Boyan couldn’t make out the second half of the sentence. There was a lot of static. He stopped walking. “Hello? I can’t hear you.”

“I got a new number,” Xiang Xi shouted. “Damn, this crappy phone has such bad signal. Hello? Hello? Brother? Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you,” Cheng Boyan said. “How’s your leg?”

“It’s fine,” Xiang Xi sounded in good spirits. “No issues. I haven’t been running around… just… later…”

“Your phone signal is really something,” Cheng Boyan said helplessly. “It must be the kind the National Security Bureau uses for encrypted communications.”

“Can’t hear me again? Hello!” Xiang Xi was still shouting. “I just wanted to let you know my leg’s fine. I’m working at a restaurant now… a friend… not much money, but…”

“Xiang Xi, Xiang…” Cheng Boyan felt like this phone call was making his throat hurt even more. He was about to say he couldn’t hear when the call suddenly cut off. He looked at the screen. “What kind of phone are you using…”

Cheng Boyan waited for a while, hoping Xiang Xi would call back so he could remind him about the follow-up appointment. But after several minutes, the phone didn’t ring. Worried that Xiang Xi might call while he was driving, he decided to call back.

"Hello, the number you have dialed cannot be reached for the moment. Please try again later…"

"Ugh!" Cheng Boyan sighed helplessly, put his phone back in his pocket, and walked into the parking lot.

*

"This phone of yours isn’t one you replaced because you bought a new one, is it?" Xiang Xi said, holding a cigarette between his lips as he looked at Tan Xiaokang. "You only bought a new one because this one was completely unusable, right?"

"As long as it works, that’s good enough. Why are you complaining?" Tan Xiaokang clicked his tongue.

"Good enough, my ass," Xiang Xi sighed, waving the phone around above his head. "See? No signal. I was in the middle of a call. The other person probably thinks I’m so rude."

"Buy yourself a new one when you get your paycheck," Tan Xiaokang laughed for a while. "Now get back to work."

"Okay." Xiang Xi stubbed out his cigarette, put his phone away, and ran back into the restaurant through the back door.

This was Xiang Xi’s first job. He was working as a general helper in the restaurant—clearing tables, mopping floors, washing dishes, taking out the trash. Anything that didn’t require technical skills or experience fell to him.

Compared to the jobs he’d done over the past decade, this work was exhausting and monotonous, and the pay was low. In the past, Xiang Xi could earn a month’s worth of this salary with just a little effort.

To be honest, Xiang Xi found it hard to endure. He had to get up early, work all day, and deal with the dirt and exhaustion. On top of that, the supervisor constantly berated him. He had never been so tired in his life. Aside from Uncle Ping, no one had ever dared to point at his nose and scold him so harshly. In the past, he would have thrown a punch immediately, but now he gritted his teeth and endured it.

And he had been enduring it for several days now.

"Zhan Hongtu!" The supervisor pointed at him and shouted as soon as he saw him. "Can you show some attitude when you work? Can you pay attention to what’s going on around you? The customers from the Beggar’s Gang left, and you didn’t even go to clean up their table!"

"On it." Xiang Xi grabbed a rag and ran out.

The dishes and utensils on the table had already been cleared. He wiped the table clean, swept up the bone fragments and tissues on the floor, and then ran back to the kitchen to help wash the dishes.

"Heroes, please come inside!" The voices of several waiters rang out in unison from the front.

Xiang Xi quietly followed along with the next line: "May I ask if the heroes are here to stay or to dine?"

It was quite fun. Xiang Xi envied the waiters in the dining hall. They dressed like they were in a play, and their calls had a martial arts flair to them. It seemed like a lot of fun.

However, when Tan Xiaokang had introduced him to the job, the restaurant wasn’t short on waiters. Even if they were, someone like him, with no experience, wouldn’t be hired. He hadn’t even gotten his health certificate yet. It was only because Tan Xiaokang had put in a good word with the supervisor that he was temporarily working as a helper.

"Dining," Lin He said to the waiter, then turned to Cheng Boyan. "Wudang or Shaolin?" (NT: refers to two famous Chinese martial arts traditions and their associated temples)

"...Shaolin," Cheng Boyan said with a smile, somehow thinking of Xiang Xi’s shaved head and choosing Shaolin.

The waiter led them to a booth labeled "Shaolin Temple" and seated them. Then he brought over a small steamer basket containing three large glutinous rice meatballs.

"The secret strength-enhancing meatballs of our village," the waiter announced. "Eating them will boost your inner strength. Please enjoy them while they’re hot!"

"These are delicious, let me tell you," Lin He said, placing a meatball in Cheng Boyan’s bowl. "This is the reason Song Yi and I come here to eat."

"There’s a salted egg yolk inside," Song Yi said with a smile. "It’s really good."

"Then why doesn’t Lin He just buy you a basket of salted duck eggs? Wouldn’t that be easier?" Cheng Boyan said.

"Hey, I’ve noticed that when you’re sick, you become especially annoying," Song Yi said. "Come to our place sometime, and I’ll peel a whole basket of salted duck eggs for you."

"I’m not going," Cheng Boyan shook his head, taking a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his bag. He squeezed some onto his hands and rubbed them slowly. "I’ve had enough of watching the two of you being all lovey-dovey."

"Do you need to wash your hands? Will wet wipes do?" Song Yi asked, ready to hand him a wet wipe.

"No," Cheng Boyan said.

"He has to rub his hands, then go to the sink to rinse them, and then rub them again after coming back," Lin He sighed.

"Yep, that’s how troublesome I am," Cheng Boyan said with a smile as he stood up. "What can you do?"

"Find someone to cure you," Song Yi waved his hand.

"Ordinary people can’t cure him," Lin He said.

Cheng Boyan ignored them, smiling as he walked toward the back. A waiter pointed him in the direction of the sink.

He passed through a small door and saw the sink. Just as he reached it, he heard someone shouting from inside: "Zhan Hongtu! The trash is full. Why haven’t you taken it out yet?"

Cheng Boyan was stunned. Zhan Hongtu? What a familiar yet complicated name!

"On it!" A voice even more familiar than the name Zhan Hongtu came from behind.

Cheng Boyan turned around and saw a figure in restaurant uniform running over. He was stunned. "Xiang Xi?"

"Hero, watch your step…" Xiang Xi habitually called out, then also froze. "Dr. Cheng? Brother? What are you doing here? Here to eat?"

 

Translator : DarNan