The dog was still standing dumbfounded at the side, likely because it had yet to recover from what had just happened. It thought to itself, wasn’t property damage supposed to be a dog’s realm of expertise? How was it that these people were so much more beastly that they even managed to destroy its doghouse?
Even more unsightly was the bloodred paint that had been splashed across not only the Xie family residence but also two neighboring households. Shockingly, someone had also spray-painted the words “fuck off” in crooked letters using scarlet spray paint.
Xie Qingcheng had a sturdy, resilient psyche, so he didn’t become demoralized in the face of all this destruction. In fact, he didn’t even seem to be all that negatively affected—indeed, after his experiences last night, what could possibly affect him now?
He did feel very apologetic that others had been involved, though, so after a long moment of silence, he turned toward the neighbors in the courtyard and said, “I’m sorry for disturbing all of you with this mess.”
The evening wind rustled through the courtyard, blowing through the loquat tree, the creeping ivy, and the pajamas of the old uncles and aunties.
After a long pause, Granny Zhang spoke. “Xiao-Xie…”
Xie Qingcheng didn’t respond. He assumed Granny Zhang was talking to Xie Xue. It had been years since any of his neighbors had called him Xiao-Xie. Everyone thought he was cold and formidable, so they all referred to him as Professor Xie or Doctor Xie, and he had only been called Xiao-Xie when he was still in school. It was only when Granny Zhang walked over with faltering steps and reached out to grasp his arm with a hand that was covered in skin like old tree bark that he realized she was actually calling out to him.
“Um, Xiao-Xie, don’t be scared… We’ve all left our phones inside. None of us have them with us right now, so no one’s going to take pictures of you or hurt you here…”
Xie Qingcheng started in surprise. Only now did he see the tears of concern welling up in Granny Zhang’s age-blurred eyes.
“It’s all right, dear child, go get some sleep. The police are here, so those people can’t get in. As for the yard, we’ll clean it up… Don’t think too much about it. It’s all right, it’s all right.”
“Yeah, Xiao-Xie, it’s all right.”
“Those people are a bunch of monsters in human skin. Don’t take those influencers to heart.”
“That’s right. Besides, this fence of mine has been up for a decade already. This is a perfect opportunity to get a new one.”
“Xie-gege, I can get a bigger doghouse too. I bought this one when Awoo was still a puppy. It’s a squeeze even when it’s just sleeping.”
When he was outside the alleyway just moments before, Xie Qingcheng had felt rather numb. Verbal abuse mattered very little to him; it was nothing more than dust in the wind that he didn’t need to care about. He couldn’t even be bothered to spare his detractors a single glance. As long as no one was injured, everything was fine.
But in this moment, looking at these old neighbors who he regularly crossed paths with, who he’d lived alongside for over twenty years, he suddenly felt something in his heart shatter. It was boiling hot but had a dull pain alongside it.
“I’m really very sorry. I’ve troubled you so much.”
He didn’t know what he ought to say, especially when he saw that the white magnolia tree in Uncle Liu’s yard had also been trampled, its elegant sheltering branches toppled between spilt mud and shattered pottery.
It was as if his heart had likewise been scraped by those broken pieces of pottery. Looking at Uncle Liu’s stooped figure, he said, “This is the tree that Auntie Sun planted.”
Auntie Sun had been Uncle Liu’s wife. She had passed away from lung cancer several years ago, but when she was still alive, she liked white magnolias the most. She had planted this tree with her own hands over twenty years ago, back when she was still a young auntie with a clear and powerful voice, and Uncle Liu was still a vigorous man with a ramrod-straight back.
A flowering tree unmoved by twenty years of wind and rain had been snapped at the waist under the trampling feet of a single evening’s surging crowd.
Uncle Liu stared at the rings of the tree’s trunk, spacing out. Each ring was like the shadow of a happier time, a ripple raised by her smile.
Xie Qingcheng was a man of steel, but this time, after a long stretch of silence, he couldn’t seem to suppress the slight hoarseness of his voice. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”
At long last, Uncle Liu finally drifted back to reality. “Aiya, it’s all right, Xiao-Xie,” he said. He walked over, leaning on his cane, and patted Xie Qingcheng on the back just like during his younger years, when the uncle who worked at the steelworks would pat that young man’s back with large hands as sturdy as iron towers.
“It’s all right, it’s just a tree. Just as long as everyone’s okay, just as long as everyone’s okay. A tree… A tree can…be replanted…”
But as the old man said this, he couldn’t help but bow his head and wipe away the tears in his eyes.
Everyone knew that even if they planted another tree, it wouldn’t be the same one. The person who planted this one had already been laid to rest. Now the tree had followed in her footsteps, like the fading years of their youth.