When he was finished, a cockroach scuttled past his feet as he walked out of the bathroom. He jumped up to get out of its way, and narrowly missed hitting his head on the door frame.
It was only after he’d gotten back to his room and turned off the lights in preparation for some forced shut-eye that he noticed the room didn’t have any curtains. The reason he’d never seen the view outside the window, and thus never noticed, was because the windowpane was too dirty.
He pulled the covers over himself, hesitated, then sniffed at them. When he verified that they were clean, he let out a breath of relief; he didn’t even have the energy to sigh.
After half an hour of lying on the bed with his eyes shut, long enough that his eyes were sore from the effort, sleep still wouldn’t come. He was just about to get up for a smoke when his phone chimed with a notification.
It was a message from Pan Zhi.
– Wtf, you left already? What’s going on?
Jiang Cheng lit a cigarette and dialed Pan Zhi’s number. With the cigarette between his lips, he walked to the window and tried to open it. Dust and rust covered the window and its frame. He struggled for a while, but the window still hadn’t budged an inch even by the time Pan Zhi picked up the call.
“Cheng?” Pan Zhi said in a hushed whisper, as if they were in the middle of a heist.
“Ah—fuck.” Jiang Cheng grimaced and cursed as he pricked his finger on something sharp. He gave up on trying to open the window.
“What’s going on with you?” Pan Zhi was still whispering. “I heard from Yu Xin today that you left already. Didn’t you say you’d let me know when you were leaving? I even bought a bunch of things to give to you!”
“Just ship them over.”
Jiang Cheng put on a jacket and walked out of the room, cigarette still between his lips. He was about to head outside when he remembered he didn’t have a key and had no choice but to retreat into the living room and open a window there. The irritation in him was like a storm; all his bad mood needed was one more spark and it could all go up in flames of rage.
“So you’re there already?” Pan Zhi asked.
“Mhm.” Jiang Cheng leaned over the windowsill and looked out at the pitch-black street.
“So? How’s that biological dad of yours?”
“You got anything important to say?” Jiang Cheng said. “I don’t feel like talking right now.”
“Fuck, it’s not like I sent you over there.” Pan Zhi tutted. “What are you lashing out at me for? You didn’t hesitate for a second when your mom said they needed the adoptee’s consent, but now you’re mad?!”
Jiang Cheng blew out a puff of smoke. “Being mad and not hesitating aren’t mutually exclusive.”
In the empty street outside, a tiny figure suddenly jumped and flitted by on a skateboard with shocking speed. Blinking into the darkness, Jiang Cheng remembered the little girl named Gu Miao from earlier. Who’d have thought there would be so many skateboarders in this shitty town?
“How about I come over?” Pan Zhi said suddenly.
“Huh?” Jiang Cheng’s attention was elsewhere.
“I said I’ll come visit you,” Pan Zhi said. “There’s still a few days before school starts, right? I can bring over the stuff I bought for you.”
“No,” Jiang Cheng declined immediately.
“Don’t be stubborn, it’s not like you told anyone else about this. At this point, I’m the only one who can offer you some warmth.” Pan Zhi sighed. “Let me come cheer you up.”
“Cheer me up how?” Jiang Cheng retorted. “Are you gonna blow me?”
“Screw your uncle, Jiang Cheng, can you try having a shred of shame?!”
“What would I need that for? If you’re so passionate about coming thousands of miles just to see me, no doubt I’ll have to cooperate.”
Jiang Cheng circled the apartment a few times holding his cigarette stub before he found an old Eight Treasure Porridge can covered with cigarette ashes. When he opened the lid, the stench of positively ancient cigarette ends almost made him vomit before he even took a look inside. He tossed the stub in and quickly closed the lid, feeling in that moment that he never wanted to smoke again.
This strange and upsetting environment, this strange and upsetting “family”…
Jiang Cheng thought he’d have insomnia under circumstances like these, but when he lay down, the agonizing sleeplessness he felt earlier was gone. He found himself surprisingly drowsy. Not just drowsy—seriously tired. It was like he’d just pulled weeks of late nights to study for a test.
It came suddenly. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep, as if he’d lost all senses.
It was a dreamless night.
When he woke up the next morning, the first thing he felt was a soreness all over his body. As he rolled out of bed, Jiang Cheng felt that perhaps he was actually a dock worker who hauled loads to and from the pier; some newbie who hadn’t even been working for a full week.
He checked the time on his phone: It was still pretty early, just past eight in the morning. When he got dressed and walked out of the room, he could see that everything was the same as it had been the night before—even the empty bed in the other bedroom.
Had Li Baoguo been out all night?
Jiang Cheng frowned. Once he’d washed up, he started to feel a little bad; his attitude yesterday hadn’t been all that great. Li Baoguo didn’t mean any ill will by dragging him along for drinks, it was only a difference in their habits. But he’d rejected him so bluntly. Was that why Li Baoguo hadn’t returned the whole night?
He hesitated for a moment, then pulled out his phone to give Li Baoguo a call. They didn’t drink together the night before, but they could still have breakfast together.
Just as he was dialing, the sound of jangling keys came from the other side of the door, followed by the sound of the lock turning. The noise went on for another twenty or so seconds before the door finally opened.
Li Baoguo walked in, bringing the chill outdoor air in with him, with a look of exhaustion on his dull, sallow face.
“You’re up already?” Li Baoguo said loudly once he spotted him. “Pretty early riser, huh? How did you sleep?”
“…Not bad.” Jiang Cheng noticed the pungent aroma of cigarettes coming off him as he answered, mixed with some other inexplicable stink—it was like the smell you got on the old green and red trains.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” Li Baoguo shrugged off his jacket and gave it a shake. The foul smell only got worse, permeating the tiny living space.
“Not yet,” Jiang Cheng said. “Maybe we can—”
“There’s breakfast stalls right outside—quite a few of them. Go eat something,” Li Baoguo said. “I’m dying to sleep, let me doze for a bit. If I don’t get up by noon, you just go ahead and eat on your own.”
Jiang Cheng watched him walk into the other bedroom and throw himself onto the bed without removing any of his clothes, just pulling a blanket over himself. A little stunned, he asked, “Where did you…go last night?”
“Mahjong. Been having shitty luck lately, but yesterday wasn’t too bad! Must be you bringing me the good fortune!” Li Baoguo yelled happily before closing his eyes.
Jiang Cheng took the keys from the table and headed out. He felt naïve for feeling bad earlier.
The snow had stopped, replaced by a bone-piercing chill that swept through the air.
The morning streets were livelier than they had been at nighttime. There were pedestrians and cars, and even the sounds of firecrackers going off. But now that the sun was out, the neglect and decay that the cover of night had concealed was out in the open along with everything else.
Jiang Cheng walked up and down the street a few times before finally entering a bun shop. After a few meat buns and a bowl of tofu pudding, the soreness in his body still hadn’t subsided. Not only that, it seemed to have gotten worse, as if it’d been awakened by the nourishment.
Feeling like he had a cold coming on, he finished his breakfast and went into the pharmacy next door to buy a pack of cold medicine. After that, he stood on the side of the road, feeling a little lost. Should he head back…? The mental image of Li Baoguo falling asleep engulfed in weird smells irritated him to no end. What was there to do if he went back? Sleep, or stare off into space?
After standing outside the pharmacy for a few minutes, he decided to take a stroll around and familiarize himself with the neighborhood. Even if he wasn’t sure how long he was going to stay here.
He wandered aimlessly from the side street to the main road, then turned a corner onto another side street parallel to the one he was on before. He wanted to see if there was a way up ahead that would take him back to where he was without having to turn around.
On this little street, he found a tiny musical instrument shop and an ice cream parlor decorated in pastel colors. But other than that, there was no discernable difference between his street and this one.
He stopped at a convenience store masquerading as a supermarket and walked in, wanting to buy a bottle of water to wash down the medicine. But just as the burst of warm, lemon-scented air greeted him, Jiang Cheng froze in the doorway. He had an urge to turn around and leave the way he came.
From where he stood, he could see four people squeezed together in the tight space behind the cash register, each one sitting or leaning on a stool. When he entered, the idle chatter abruptly halted, and all four heads turned simultaneously to stare at him.
Jiang Cheng studied the four people—their appearances and their expressions, their clothing and the way they carried themselves. Each one of their faces seemed to spell out a word:
Fresh. Out. Of. Jail.
As he wavered between turning around and leaving or going in for the water on the shelf, Jiang Cheng caught something else out of the corner of his eye—there were three other people crammed in front of a row of shelves. As he turned, before he was able to make out any faces, he noticed a shiny bald head and tufts of hair scattered all over the floor. And a pair of large eyes.