It had already been several months. Xiang Xi had always felt that he’d shaken off the past cleanly. He had already started moving forward — just not very steadily.

But now, to run into Da Jian and his vulgar friend at the very shop where he was seriously working and trying to do better — he was suddenly overwhelmed with despair.

After all this time, these things could still trip him up. One careless moment and he’d fall.

That guy was Ping Shu’s die-hard fan, a brainless one at that. If he recognised Xiang Xi...

Xiang Xi started sweating — he was already sweaty, but now it was like an explosion. Every single pore on his body fought to pour sweat out faster than the next.

The only small relief was that the boss hadn’t shouted too loudly. With the stove’s humming and the clanging of the ladle in the boss’s wife’s hands, maybe Da Jian, sitting outside, hadn’t heard clearly.

No — what he really had to be thankful for was that Cheng Boyan had shaved his head. If he still had his old Mohawk, Da Jian could probably recognise him from across the street.

“Okay,” he answered and reached out to pick up the mask the boss had placed on the table, put it on, grabbed a rag, and slowly walked out.

Ping Shu was definitely looking for him. Even if it was just for that Ruyi pendant, Ping Shu would surely cling to him like wind to sand all the way to the ends of the earth. If Da Jian recognized him...

But he didn’t want to lose this job. Not unless he had absolutely no other choice — he wouldn’t run.

Tu Yilang looked pale and visibly annoyed, speaking to Da Jian with clear impatience while Da Jian sat beside her, fawning and smiling.

Xiang Xi had seen this kind of thing too many times — one glance and he could guess it: Da Jian had brought Tu Yilang here to get an abortion. Da Jian had no money and couldn’t afford to raise a child. The abortion fee was probably even paid for by Ping Shu.

He kept his head down as he walked over, collected the clay pot and plates, then swept all the food scraps into the plate with the rag. Normally he would do this in two separate trips — first collect the dishes, then wipe the table — but now he had to reduce how often he appeared in front of Da Jian.

Just as Xiang Xi was about to walk away with the plates, Da Jian pointed at the table in front of Tu Yilang. “Wipe here. It’s all greasy.”

Xiang Xi lowered his head and carefully wiped the already-clean table in front of Tu Yilang, even going over it a second time. On any other day, he might’ve snapped, “What, you planning to lick the table?” But he knew these people too well. Just like how he used to be — always looking for a chance to show off. If he wasn’t deferential enough, Da Jian would lash out and cause a scene. That was a conflict he couldn’t afford right now.

As he turned to leave after wiping, Da Jian looked up and glanced at him. Xiang Xi’s heart skipped a beat. As he walked back into the shop, he made a conscious effort to walk with an exaggerated splay-footed pace — afraid Da Jian might recognise him just from the way he walked.

He knew the face mask had caught Da Jian’s attention. But between the mask and his face, he didn’t have a choice.

He didn’t dare look at Da Jian’s table too much but could feel Da Jian’s gaze sweeping over him now and then. Whether it was suspicion or just random glances, he had no time to think it through.

He kept an eye on the sounds of the boss’s wife preparing clay pot rice. When he heard the two orders for Da Jian’s table were ready, he slipped into the back kitchen to fetch the washed vegetables, and the boss took the food to their table.

Da Jian ate quickly, finishing in no time. But Tu Yilang was delicate and weak, eating extremely slowly. She had requested chili when ordering but now was picking out each tiny piece of chopped chili and throwing them on the table.

Xiang Xi wanted nothing more than to go over there and slam her face into the clay pot.

At that moment, the boss walked over from the counter carrying several lunch boxes. Xiang Xi saw and hurried over — finally, his moment had come.

“These are for that company over there,” the boss said while packing. “These are for the hospital — the second and third floors of the inpatient ward. I wrote it all down on the note.”

“Got it.” Xiang Xi nodded, took the bags, packed the lunch boxes inside, then walked out with his head down, swinging his bag with that same exaggerated gait.

As he passed by Da Jian’s table again, Da Jian looked up at him once more. Xiang Xi didn’t look back. He swayed out the door to the tree outside, placed the bag on the delivery cart, and rode off.

*

Cheng Boyan was working in the outpatient department that day. It was rare for the morning to go by without any serious trauma cases, but right before noon, a particularly anxious and long-winded middle-aged man arrived.

He’d sprained his back last year and still felt like his spine was crooked. Even though the scans showed nothing wrong, he couldn’t stop worrying.

“No issues?” the man looked at Cheng Boyan. “Doctor, are you sure? Can you check again?”

“There’s really nothing wrong,” Cheng Boyan had no choice but to place the scan back on the light box and check again. “Your lower back is sore, but it has nothing to do with your bones.”

“That can’t be…” the man looked doubtful.

Someone moved outside the consultation room door.

“You’re something else,” Cheng Boyan said. “First time I’ve seen someone hoping for a problem.” He glanced toward the door — it was Xiang Xi. Cheng Boyan nodded at him. Xiang Xi drifted away.

“But my back always feels like it has no strength,” the man frowned.

“You…” Cheng Boyan paused and his gaze fell on the lumbar support the man was wearing under his shirt. “How long have you been wearing that thing?”

“This? Ever since I got injured last year. Haven’t stopped. I can’t go without it…” the man sighed.

“The whole time? Since last year until now?” Cheng Boyan looked surprised. Someone moved outside the door again. He looked up — it was Xiang Xi again. Before he could react, Xiang Xi drifted away once more.

“Yeah,” the man replied.

“Brother,” Cheng Boyan pointed at the lumbar brace, “if you keep strapping that thing on every day, you’ll reach a point where, once you take it off, you won’t even be able to sit upright! Take it off, now!”

The third time Xiang Xi drifted past the consultation room, Cheng Boyan had finally wrapped up with the man, who stood up and grabbed his hand: “Thank you, doctor.”

“No problem. Go home and get some exercise. Stop wearing that lumbar brace every day. It’s meant for short-term use — if you rely on it long-term, your core muscles weaken, and of course your back will ache.” Cheng Boyan pulled his hand free. “Next time if you’re uncomfortable, skip orthopedics — come to our movement rehab department instead.”

“Okay, okay.” The man nodded, took his things, and left the consultation room.

Cheng Boyan stepped out as well. Usually when Xiang Xi came to deliver food during his clinic hours, he’d just drift past once or twice and be gone. But today he’d passed by three times in twenty minutes and was still around — something was off.

He walked out and saw Xiang Xi leaning against the wall outside the consultation room, staring down at his shoes in a daze. Cheng Boyan walked over and gave him a nudge.

“What are you doing?”

“Hey? You're done?” Xiang Xi turned his head.

“Yeah, I can rest for a bit,” Cheng Boyan looked at him. “You looking for me for something?”

“…No,” Xiang Xi rubbed his nose a little awkwardly. “Did I interrupt your consultation?”

“No,” Cheng Boyan walked toward the hallway, planning to grab a couple of buns from the small shop out back. “Don’t you usually have to rush back after food deliveries?”

“Yeah, I have to head back soon,” Xiang Xi walked beside him. “Let me buy you something.”

“I’m just grabbing two buns. Don’t have time for anything complicated.” Cheng Boyan smiled.

“I’ll buy you the buns.” Xiang Xi said.

“Alright, one pork floss, one coconut.” Cheng Boyan said.

Xiang Xi bought the buns and also got a carton of milk. He watched as Cheng Boyan stood in the small hospital courtyard and ate.

“Is something bothering you?” Cheng Boyan noticed that Xiang Xi seemed off today. Normally he was lively and chatty, but today he barely spoke—he looked like how he was when they first met.

“Really nothing,” Xiang Xi said. “I just wanted to stay with you for a bit, hear you talk—it helps me feel grounded.”

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…” Cheng Boyan started counting as he ate the bun. “Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three…”

He counted all the way to one hundred while eating, then stopped: “Feel a bit better?”

“Yeah,” Xiang Xi smiled. “You’re good at this.”

“You asked me to talk out of nowhere—what else could I say?” Cheng Boyan threw the empty milk carton into the trash can. “You really okay?”

“Really,” Xiang Xi bounced on the spot. “Oh wait, actually I do have something—I was wondering if I can come by for a follow-up tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Cheng Boyan smiled. “No need to register, just come straight to me. I’ll give you a form—go get an X-ray, and I’ll take a look.”

“Great, I’ll come in the afternoon.” Xiang Xi snapped his fingers. “I’m heading back then.”

By the time he returned to the restaurant, Da Jian and that girl had already left. Fang Yin was also gone. The boss and his wife were busy.

Xiang Xi went in to help out and chatted with the boss and his wife for a bit. They both seemed normal, probably meaning Da Jian hadn’t gotten suspicious—otherwise, he likely would’ve tried to ask about Xiang Xi.

Still… Xiang Xi couldn’t shake off the unease from the way Da Jian had looked at him those few times.

That night, lying on the small loft bed, Xiang Xi called Fang Yin: “Does that offer to cover three months’ rent still stand?”

“Of course. You thinking of renting a place now?” Fang Yin sounded immediately interested.

“Yeah,” Xiang Xi turned over. “I get a day off tomorrow—want to look for a place.”

“Sure, I’ll come over in the morning. Where should we start looking?” Fang Yin asked.

“Near University Town.” Xiang Xi said. Cheng Boyan had mentioned that there were cheaper student apartments over there.

If Da Jian hadn’t shown up, Xiang Xi wouldn’t have rushed to find a place. He was starting to settle into the job; the boss and his wife were nice, always smiling when they talked to him or asked him to do things.

But precisely because of that, he had to move out now. If Da Jian recognised him and told Ping Shu, there was no telling when Ping Shu might show up.

It might be fine during the day, but nighttime was another story. He was afraid something unexpected might happen and mess up the restaurant. No matter what, he couldn’t bring trouble to the boss’s family.

Finding a place to rent is usually tough—you have to consider the environment, neighbours, transportation, floor, interior conditions. But if you ignore all that, it gets much easier.

Xiang Xi had only two requirements: cheap, and a single room. Nothing else mattered. So after contacting two landlords, he settled on one.

A five-story village house built by farmers in an urban village, rented out specifically to students. The fifth floor still had one room available—eight square meters, came with a bathroom, shared kitchen, 300 yuan a month, utilities extra.

Fang Yin paid the deposit and three months’ rent for him, then took a few photos inside and outside with his camera. He pointed to the bed: “Xiao Zhan, sit on the bed. I’ll take a few photos—face toward the bathroom, catch some side light…”

“Oh.” Xiang Xi sat at the foot of the bed, staring blankly toward the bathroom.

“How’s the place feel? It’s about the same size as the loft.” Fang Yin walked a few steps inside the room.

“It’s good,” Xiang Xi laid on the bed. “It’s got a wardrobe, I can stand up straight, and I don’t have to go downstairs to charge my phone.”

“What made you suddenly want to rent a place?” Fang Yin pulled a small plastic stool out from under the bed and sat down.

“Afraid you’d change your mind if I waited too long.” Xiang Xi rested his arm under his head.

“Is it because of that guy and girl who came to eat today?” Fang Yin thought for a moment. “Right? As soon as they showed up, you put your mask on, and your mood shifted.”

“You really were watching me the whole time, huh?” Xiang Xi turned to look at him. “Anyone who doesn’t know would think you’re in love with me.”

“Were they people you used to know? From Zhaojiayao?” Fang Yin pressed on.

Xiang Xi frowned and didn’t say anything. Fang Yin’s tone clearly had a bit of excitement in it, which annoyed him.

“Did they recognise you? Think there’ll be trouble?” Fang Yin kept asking.

“Now I finally get why those dumbass reporters always get beat up,” Xiang Xi said, beckoning with a finger. “Give me the money for today—I’m sleeping in tonight, not going out.”

Fang Yin handed him the money without saying anything more, and left with his camera.

Xiang Xi lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds outside.

The room wasn’t very soundproof—he could faintly hear the neighbour on the phone, and the noise from the shared kitchen came in easily through the door.

But it was obvious that the people living on his floor were students—some lived alone, others as couples. A student girl was cooking noodles for her boyfriend and would call out every minute asking, “Is this okay like this? Should I add this?” The two of them were so lovey-dovey it felt like a silken thread swinging back and forth—it made you want to go out there and hang them up by a rope.

He clicked his tongue. Really not tired of each other, huh? What’s so complicated? They should learn from Dr. Cheng: noodles, eggs, meat—just throw it all into the pot. Done.

He didn’t really have an appetite. Even with the sounds of cooking outside, he didn’t feel hungry. Lying in bed for just a little while, he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up, it was 1 o’clock. He calculated the time, got up, washed his face, and planned to head to the hospital.

Before he left, he looked at his bag and hesitated for a long time. Then he opened the wardrobe and hung his clothes in it one by one. Actually, hanging them up was more troublesome—if something happened, he wouldn’t have time to pack and run.

But he did it anyway.

There was something strange about the feeling of putting your own things in the place they belonged. He had never had a wardrobe of his own. Even at Cheng Boyan’s place, he’d only hung his coat next to Cheng’s in the cabinet in the living room.

He didn’t have many clothes—barely enough to fill half the fabric wardrobe. The upper section meant for small items was still empty, so he put a pair of socks and a pair of underwear there. It looked a bit funny. But that was all he had. Even if he added the socks and underwear he was wearing, it would still just be four little lumps.

He didn’t put the small tin box in there; he kept that in his bag. That little junk he needed to carry with him.

When he walked out of the building with his backpack, he turned back to take another look at it. The surrounding buildings all looked the same, and the roads crisscrossed everywhere—he was afraid he wouldn’t find his way back later.

After looking for a while, he turned his head and saw Fang Yin squatting by the side of the road smiling at him, camera just lowered from his hand: “Little liar. I knew you’d still go out.”

“I’m going to the hospital to get my leg checked,” Xiang Xi frowned. “Don’t tell me you’ve been squatting here the whole time.”

“No,” Fang Yin stood up. “I wandered around here at noon and took some pictures. This place is full of stories.”

“The kind you like,” Xiang Xi gave him a sideways glance. “Digging into people’s wounds and putting them on display.”

Fang Yin didn’t follow him to the hospital. After Xiang Xi got on the bus, Fang Yin left. Xiang Xi stood swaying on the bus, lost in thought as he looked at the people around him.

Everyone had scars—of all kinds: school, work, life, relationships. Some big, some small, some you didn’t even notice yourself.

Covering up your own scars while looking at others’, sighing and empathizing, and then going your separate ways.

What kind of feeling was that? Xiang Xi couldn’t really grasp it. His own wounds couldn’t even be fully covered—he didn’t have the energy to worry about others’.

When Xiang Xi entered the consultation room, a patient had just sat down in front of Cheng Boyan.

“Please wait a moment,” Cheng said to the patient, then quickly grabbed Xiang Xi’s file and wrote something. He filled out a slip and handed it to Xiang Xi. “Go get an X-ray.”

“Okay,” Xiang Xi took the slip and walked out.

Cheng followed him out and grabbed him. “Do you have money?”

“What kind of question is that?” Xiang Xi grinned and patted his pocket. “I earn a salary too, just got paid.”

“Alright then,” Cheng Boyan smiled.

While waiting for the X-ray results, Xiang Xi sat outside the consultation room. He picked a seat where he could see Cheng Boyan clearly—every time Cheng looked up, he’d catch Xiang Xi grinning and baring his teeth at him.

Cheng was pretty busy. Xiang Xi waited for forty minutes, and Cheng didn’t stop talking the whole time. Xiang Xi admired how he could keep smiling with every patient.

The X-ray results came out. Xiang Xi looked at them for a long time—apart from identifying a few white spots that were obviously screws, he couldn’t make much sense of it.

He waited for the patient in the room to come out before entering with the X-ray. “I think my bones look really beautiful.”

“Your bones before you were hospitalised were even prettier. That film’s still with me. Take a look sometime—it looked like they were blooming, truly a piece of art,” Cheng Boyan took the film and clipped it to the light box while speaking. “Alignment is good, fracture line is blurred…”

“Don’t understand a word.” Xiang Xi said.

“It means it’s healing well. Sit down,” Cheng pointed at the chair. After Xiang Xi sat, he pressed on Xiang Xi’s leg in a few spots. “Does it hurt?”

“Nope, just makes me wanna laugh,” Xiang Xi smiled and drew his leg back a bit.

“Find some time later and ask your boss for a few days off to get the screws removed,” Cheng said while writing in the chart.

“A few days?” Xiang Xi was surprised.

“Taking the screws out is also surgery. You’ll need about a week to recover,” Cheng replied.

“I only get one day off a month… asking for time off is tough,” Xiang Xi frowned. “Can I not take them out?”

“What are you, Iron Man?” Cheng glanced at him. “You can delay it, but you have to take them out eventually. Talk to your boss—he seems like a good guy. Shouldn’t be a big problem, right?”

“I’ll talk to him,” Xiang Xi nodded.

“Also, your pneumonia—it’s cleared up, but still be careful,” Cheng handed him the chart. “If you catch another cold within a month, it’ll be pneumonia again.”

“Don’t worry,” Xiang Xi laughed. “Came in for orthopaedics and got internal medicine too?”

“Just a casual reminder. It’s hot during the day and cold at night—easy to catch a cold,” Cheng said.

“Got it,” Xiang Xi gathered his things and stood up. “I’m off then.”

“Okay, let me know once you’ve settled it with your boss,” Cheng opened a drawer and dropped a few White Rabbit candies into his pocket. “A patient just gave me these—take them.”

Xiang Xi left the hospital eating the candy. It was sweet—he really liked it.

Standing by the road, he didn’t immediately get on the bus. Instead, he looked around. Even though he figured Da Jian probably hadn’t recognised him, he still had to be cautious.

Uncle Ping was a sly one. If he really knew where Xiang Xi was, he wouldn’t act immediately—he’d spend a few days first learning everything about him.

Xiang Xi suddenly felt very tired. For the past few months, he had been struggling desperately. But the moment he saw Da Jian, it was like he realised he was just a maggot in a cesspit. He’d wriggled far—farther than the other maggots—but once he opened his eyes, it was still all shit.

But for the first time, he didn’t feel like giving up. He rolled the White Rabbit candy in his mouth with his tongue. Maybe, if he wriggled a little more, he’d make it out.

 

Translator : DarNan