After the three people downstairs left, they didn’t come back again. Cheng Boyan stood by the window watching for quite a while; when he turned around, he saw Xiang Xi sitting on the sofa in a daze.

“It might not necessarily be anyone in particular,” Cheng Boyan said, walking over and ruffling his hair, “Are you hungry? Want to go to the supermarket with me?”

“Yes!” Xiang Xi raised his head. “I thought you weren’t letting me go out anymore.”

“You really shouldn’t be going out,” Cheng Boyan smiled, “but looking at you like this… anyway, it’s just the entrance of the residential complex, not far. And you’ll have to go out to the teahouse in a couple of days anyway. I’ll just go with you.”

“I’ll go change.” Xiang Xi immediately jumped off the sofa and ran into the bedroom.

The two of them went downstairs and looked around. There was nothing unusual—just residents walking around the small garden after dinner, many with children. Everything looked peaceful.

“Let’s go.” Cheng Boyan carried a shopping bag and walked toward the complex gate.

“Maybe they were just looking for someone?” Xiang Xi followed behind, looking around, then turned back and laughed when he saw the bag. “You carrying that is kind of hilarious.”

“What else should I carry?” Cheng Boyan glanced back at him. “A vegetable basket wouldn’t be even more ridiculous?”

“Just buy a bag at the supermarket, two mao (NT: around 2 euro cents),” Xiang Xi said, trying not to laugh.

“Be environmentally friendly, okay?” Cheng Boyan said. “It’s not far anyway, not like I’m taking it shopping all day.”

“Let me carry it. When you hold it, I just want to laugh,” Xiang Xi took the bag from him. “Can’t you just fold it—”

He tried to fold it, but when he lifted it, he realized something was inside. He peeked in and froze. “What is this?”

“Spray,” Cheng Boyan said.

“Spray? What spray?” Xiang Xi pulled out a small bottle.

Cheng Boyan took it back and tossed it into the bag, then cleared his throat. “Pepper spray.”

“Pep—” Xiang Xi froze, then burst out laughing so hard his eyes watered. “Cheng Boyan, are you serious?!”

“Is it that funny?” Cheng Boyan looked at him. “It’s just pepper spray.”

“It’s not that,” Xiang Xi kept laughing and glanced into the bag again, laughing even harder. “What’s the point of this? Isn’t this something girls keep in their bags? Why do you have this…”

“I can spray you and let you test whether it works,” Cheng Boyan clicked his tongue. “Alright, laugh while walking—save time.”

Xiang Xi laughed for a while before hurrying to catch up and walking beside him. “Doctor Cheng.”

“What is it?”

“Where did you even get this?” Xiang Xi rubbed his face, sounding a bit frustrated. “You’re so desperate that you’re carrying this now?”

“I bought it. The nurses in our department did a group purchase, so Director Chen and I each got one,” Cheng Boyan smiled.

“Your Director Chen is just an old man—who’s going to harass him?” Xiang Xi burst out laughing again.

“Director Chen thinks he looks easy to bully,” Cheng Boyan said, laughing along. “Last year someone got drunk and caused trouble, hitting people in the hospital. The doctors all went to stop him, and that guy went straight for Director Chen… Later the police asked why he hit him.”

“Yeah, why?”

“He said Director Chen looked like the kind who wouldn’t fight back,” Cheng Boyan said. “So afterward, he bought pepper spray.”

Xiang Xi laughed again, then sighed after calming down. “You doctors really… Did he ever use it?”

“No. Who would dare use it?” Cheng Boyan draped an arm over his shoulder. “Honestly, he could’ve picked anyone—none of us would fight back.”

“Hey,” Xiang Xi tugged his fingers, “I used to think—with how easily you can dislocate someone’s arm—you’d definitely win if someone caused trouble in the hospital.”

“I can’t just dislocate a patient’s family member’s arm,” Cheng Boyan laughed. “Same thing—we dodge. If we can’t dodge, we take a few hits.”

“You say your whole family are doctors—you all know how things are. Why did you still choose medicine? Couldn’t you study something else?” Xiang Xi looked at him.

“I didn’t plan to at first,” Cheng Boyan said.

“Then why did you?”

“Let’s buy groceries,” Cheng Boyan avoided the question and pushed him into the supermarket. “I also wanted to buy some cooked food, but at this hour there’s probably none left.”

“Just get whatever is available. Even raw food might be gone,” Xiang Xi didn’t press further.

The supermarket was crowded—mostly nearby residents. There were only two supermarkets in the area, and after 7 p.m., the vegetable section looked like a battlefield, with many shelves left with just scraps of leaves.

After walking around, they only managed to grab a bag of discounted potatoes. Xiang Xi snatched a bag of bell peppers in front of an auntie who was hesitating; when she finished hesitating and realized it was gone, she glared at him and muttered complaints for quite a while.

“These two…” Cheng Boyan looked at the potatoes and peppers. “How do we match them? Stir-fried shredded potatoes with peppers?”

“No idea. Maybe give the peppers back to that lady?” Xiang Xi said quietly. “She’s still glaring at me.”

“Let me think,” Cheng Boyan paused. “Keep them. We can make mashed potatoes, and stir-fry peppers with some meat.”

“Okay,” Xiang Xi said with interest. “You know how to make mashed potatoes?”

“…No,” Cheng Boyan answered honestly. “That’s just my plan. I’ll look it up when we get home.”

“I can make it,” Xiang Xi said.

Cheng Boyan didn’t respond and pushed the cart toward the fruit section.

“I’ll make it,” Xiang Xi repeated.

Cheng Boyan glanced at him. “Be quiet.”

“You don’t trust me that much?” Xiang Xi protested.

“When it comes to cooking, do you trust yourself?” Cheng Boyan smirked.

“I? I…” Xiang Xi thought seriously for a moment, then laughed. “Not really.”

In the end, they left the supermarket carrying potatoes, peppers, and some fruit.

“So miserable,” Xiang Xi clicked his tongue. “Might as well have gone to eat at Shaxian.”

“Not hygienic,” Cheng Boyan replied simply, pulling him across the street.

The residential area was livelier now. The small park’s open space was full of people, and music could be heard.

“They’re going to dance,” Xiang Xi said with a smile. “I didn’t notice people do square dancing here. Is it noisy?”

“They don’t dance in cold weather—only when it’s warm,” Cheng Boyan said. “It’s not loud; you can’t hear it inside. It ends after 9.”

“I’m hungry,” Xiang Xi bounced a little. “I—”

He suddenly stopped. Cheng Boyan, looking at his phone, almost bumped into him. “What’s wrong?”

“Those people,” Xiang Xi said quietly, tilting his head. “They’re back.”

“Hm?” Cheng Boyan looked over—and sure enough, they were there again.

He slipped his hand into the shopping bag and frowned. If these people really came for revenge, their intelligence was really insufficient—like a fixed breakfast stall, always appearing in the same spot.

“What do we do? Go upstairs?” Xiang Xi asked quietly as they headed toward the building.

“Yeah,” Cheng Boyan said. He didn’t take out the spray, because after they entered, those people got up and walked toward the garden instead, not following them. “They might really not be here for you…”

Xiang Xi said nothing, keeping his head down all the way into the elevator.

“What’s wrong?” Cheng Boyan pinched his butt.

“Hey!” Xiang Xi jumped forward, glared at him, then sighed. “What kind of messed-up crap is this? Making you so on edge…”

Cheng Boyan slapped his arm. “You really can’t clean up your language, can you?”

“Can you hit somewhere else next time!” Xiang Xi rubbed his arm. “You always hit here!”

“You’re planning for a next time?” Cheng Boyan opened the door and pushed him inside. “After dinner, we’ll set some ground rules.”

“Those people downstairs…” Xiang Xi stood inside, getting worried again. “What do we do?”

“If the enemy doesn’t move, we don’t move,” Cheng Boyan said, heading into the kitchen. “Stop thinking about it. I’ll make mashed potatoes.”

Xiang Xi went to the window to look again—the people were gone. He sighed, feeling stifled. They’d been watching all afternoon and evening—if it’s going to be a fight, just come already. This kind of hanging uncertainty was worse than an actual fight.

He drew the curtains and went into the kitchen to help.

“I’ll wash the rice. I can at least cook rice, right?” He picked up the pot.

“Yeah, porridge or rice—your choice,” Cheng Boyan said, looking at his phone. “I’ll check how to make mashed potatoes.”

Xiang Xi slowly washed the rice. Cheng Boyan studied the recipe, glancing at him—he could tell Xiang Xi was feeling down because of those suspicious people.

“Do you want it savoury or sweet?” Cheng Boyan asked. “There are two versions.”

“Savoury,” Xiang Xi said.

“Okay… cheese, butter, black pepper… no cheese…” Cheng Boyan muttered, checking ingredients.

“If we can’t make savoury, then just eat sweet,” Xiang Xi said, sounding a bit listless.

“Don’t overthink it,” Cheng Boyan put his phone down on the counter, walked behind him, and started kneading his shoulders. “Right now, even if you sat on the ground and banged your head against the wall…”

“Why would I sit on the ground and bang my head against the wall?” Xiang Xi said weakly.

Cheng Boyan smiled. “I was just saying casually—you sitting on the ground…”

“If I’m going to bang my head, I wouldn’t sit—I’d definitely stand.” Xiang Xi turned his head.

“Alright then, you’re standing and banging your head,” Cheng Boyan kept kneading and tapping his shoulders, “and it still won’t solve anything with those people. The only way is to wait calmly and observe how things develop. Instead of watching with a long face, better to just live normally while watching…”

“I know, I just can’t help thinking about it,” Xiang Xi frowned. “If they were people I knew, I’d just go all out. But those guys really don’t look like the type working for Uncle Ping… so who else would send people to stake us out like this?”

“Send?” Cheng Boyan paused, then suddenly grabbed his phone. “I might know.”

“Know what?” Xiang Xi looked at him.

Cheng Boyan didn’t answer and dialed a number.

It rang several times before someone picked up. Song Yi’s lazy voice came through: “Boyan?”

“Is there something you didn’t tell me?” Cheng Boyan asked directly.

“What… thing?” Song Yi paused, then suddenly sounded alert. “Wait, you figured it out already? These guys are useless!”

“Those people downstairs—did you send them?” Cheng Boyan hadn’t controlled his tone well. He had only been guessing, but Song Yi admitting it so straightforwardly shocked him.

Xiang Xi whipped his head around, eyes wide. “Those are Brother Song’s people?”

“Yeah, I sent them. Wasn’t planning to tell you,” Song Yi laughed. “Small matter, no need to thank me.”

“Who wants to thank you!” Cheng Boyan didn’t even know what to say. “Have you been out of the underworld so long you’re feeling lonely?”

“I’m just worried,” Song Yi said. “With this kind of thing, I’m not afraid of ten thousand possibilities, only afraid of the one worst-case scenario (NT: idiom meaning you prepare for the unlikely but dangerous case). Let them keep an eye on things for a while. If something really happens, they can help.”

“Help how? Fight? Gang brawl?” Cheng Boyan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not in a triad,” Song Yi corrected him.

“Does Lin He know you’re pulling something like this?” Cheng Boyan asked.

“He knows. I told him,” Song Yi said. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to feed or house them—just pretend you didn’t see them.”

“No, wait—Lin He agreed to this?” Cheng Boyan found it hard to believe. “Did you drug him? Is he there? Put him on the phone.”

Song Yi sighed with a smile and handed the phone over. “You two talk.”

“Boyan,” Lin He said, “don’t think this is making a fuss over nothing. We just need to be cautious. Best case, nothing happens; worst case, someone’s there to help.”

“You’re really something,” Cheng Boyan lowered his voice and walked into the living room. “If something actually happens, are you planning a group fight? You miss the old reckless Song Yi or something?”

“No fighting—we’re really not planning to fight,” Lin He explained. “It’s just… relying on numbers so the other side doesn’t dare act. Really.”

Cheng Boyan couldn’t help laughing at that, then sighed after a while. “Thanks. How long are you planning to keep this ‘strength in numbers’ thing going?”

“I trust the police,” Lin He said with a smile. “At most half a month—they’ll definitely catch them.”

After chatting a bit more, Cheng Boyan hung up and went back to the kitchen. Xiang Xi was leaning against the counter, spacing out.

“Alright,” Cheng Boyan went over and ruffled his hair with both hands, “no need to be nervous anymore. It really was Song Yi’s people. Go call him and say thanks.”

“Mm.” Xiang Xi nodded and went to the living room to make the call.

Cheng Boyan washed the potatoes and prepared to cut crosses into them before steaming. Xiang Xi came back after the call, still looking a bit down.

“What’s wrong?” Cheng Boyan lifted his chin slightly. “Now that you know it’s fine, why the long face?”

“I just feel like…” Xiang Xi lowered his eyes, “because of me, everyone’s being unsettled.”

“Who’s unsettled?” Cheng Boyan smiled and pulled him into a hug.

“You, Brother Song, Lin He…” Xiang Xi rested his chin on his shoulder, “and those three guys downstairs…”

“I don’t count. Between us, that doesn’t apply,” Cheng Boyan patted his back.

“What about Song Yi and the others?” Xiang Xi sighed. “They’re worrying so much.”

Xiang Xi had always kept his distance from everyone growing up—including Mantou. He never easily got involved with people, especially relationships that might bring trouble.

Now, because of him, the people around him were all being dragged into this to some degree. It made him uneasy—and annoyed.

“They’re friends. Friends are for causing trouble,” Cheng Boyan said with a smile. “If they ran into trouble, I’d do the same.”

“Really?” Xiang Xi frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t know if I would.”

“You would,” Cheng Boyan said. “Aren’t you very concerned about Mantou?”

“Mantou…” Xiang Xi closed his eyes briefly. “Yeah… probably just him. If something happened to him… I’ve realized I’m actually pretty… I don’t think I have friends.”

“Who says you don’t?” Cheng Boyan let go of him. “My friends can be your friends. And your coworkers at the supermarket—you’re close with them, right? They’ll become friends too.”

“Mm.” Xiang Xi smiled, remembering the message Yu Baoquan had sent earlier, his mood lifting a bit—then he frowned again. “Mantou… how is he now?”

“He’ll be transferred in a couple of days. His condition is stable—nothing serious,” Cheng Boyan said, then turned to score the potatoes and put them into the pot to steam.

Xiang Xi let out a breath of relief. After starting the rice, he went back to the living room and replied to Yu Baoquan’s message—he’d been too distracted earlier to answer.

Friends?

Xiang Xi smiled. He hadn’t had friends before. Mantou was like an unexpected miracle.

That broken place Zhaojiayao couldn’t produce real friends—there would never be someone you could truly let your guard down around. Those so-called “friends” only proved they were all trapped in darkness together.

As for friends… Fang Yin had called him recently, wanting to see his photos. He’d refused—too embarrassed to show his work in front of someone with a big gun (NT: metaphor for a professional camera lens). Did that count as a friend?

Compared to Xiang Xi’s cooking—which always ended in disaster—Cheng Boyan’s cooking, though bland, was still slightly better. After nearly an hour in the kitchen, he brought out stir-fried meat with peppers, mashed potatoes, and a bowl of egg drop soup.

“Hey?” Xiang Xi jumped up. “You actually made mashed potatoes?”

“No idea how it tastes—I haven’t tried it,” Cheng Boyan said. “Just followed the recipe.”

“It looks great, I…” Xiang Xi got excited and reached straight into the bowl to scoop some.

“What are you doing!” Cheng Boyan smacked his hand with chopsticks. “You haven’t even washed your hands!”

“Then I’ll go wash them!” Xiang Xi rubbed his hand and ran into the kitchen.

“Even if you wash them, you still can’t use your hands!” Cheng Boyan said. “let’s set three ground rules (NT: reference to Liu Bang (the founder of the Han Dynasty) who made three simple rules to win the trust of the people (1) )—rule… whatever number: use chopsticks when eating!”

“Got it!” Xiang Xi shouted.

Today’s food turned out unexpectedly better than usual. Xiang Xi praised while eating: “Really, it’s good—though still kind of bad.”

“So is it good or bad?” Cheng Boyan looked at him.

“It’s bad—but way better than your usual stuff like that mixed-bean porridge,” Xiang Xi shoveled rice into his mouth. “Why is that? Did you suddenly have a breakthrough?”

“I’ll tell you why,” Cheng Boyan pointed at the peppers. “This has a bit of spice and sweetness—its own flavour is already good. Same with the mashed potatoes—they already have flavour, I didn’t need to season much… so it tastes good… or at least, not that bad.”

“Then let’s eat like this from now on,” Xiang Xi scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “This kind of dish works.”

“Yes, sir,” Cheng Boyan smiled.

Xiang Xi ate more than usual today. Maybe it was relief from realizing those people weren’t Uncle Ping’s, or maybe it was the thought that he could have friends—but either way, he ate three bowls of rice. Cheng Boyan had already put down his chopsticks, but Xiang Xi was still eating.

As he scraped the remaining food into his bowl, Cheng Boyan’s phone rang.

He picked it up and glanced at it. “It’s my mom.”

For some reason, Xiang Xi suddenly felt nervous. A few drops of soup spilled onto the table—he wiped them away and glanced at Cheng Boyan again.

“Mom?” Cheng Boyan noticed and smiled helplessly.

“Are you home?” his mother asked over the phone; it sounded like she was outside.

“Yeah, just finished eating,” Cheng Boyan said. “You’re not home?”

“I’m with your grandma and your aunt,” his mother said. “Why are you eating so late?”

“See! I told you this kid lives a completely messy life!” Grandma’s dissatisfied voice came through.

“Why did you all go out?” Cheng Boyan laughed.

“We went to the hospital this afternoon to check your grandma’s eyesight, then had a meal. Just came out,” his mother said with a smile. “We’re not far from your place now. Your grandma says your life is a mess and wants to come take a look.”

“Come over now?” Cheng Boyan froze.

As soon as Xiang Xi heard this, he threw down his bowl and jumped up, standing by the table and mouthing silently: “Your mom is coming over?”

“Yes, I’ll drive over,” his mother said. “You tidy things up—your grandma probably misses you too.”

“Oh…” Cheng Boyan glanced at Xiang Xi and nodded at him.

Xiang Xi’s expression instantly froze.

--

Note from the translator

The Three Rules that Liu Bang (later Emperor Gaozu of Han) established after capturing the city of Xianyang during the fall of the Qin Dynasty were :

杀人者死 (Shā rén zhě sǐ) – "Whoever kills shall be put to death."

伤人及盗抵罪 (Shāng rén jí dào dǐ zuì) – "Whoever injures or steals shall be punished according to the severity of the crime."

余悉除秦法 (Yú xī chú Qín fǎ) – "All other oppressive Qin laws are abolished."

These simple and fair rules were intended to win the support of the people by contrasting with the harsh legalism of the Qin Dynasty.

 

Translator : DarNan