PL | Chapter 6

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There was nothing in the flowerbed except dirt and snow. When he fell into it, there was not even the slightest bit of cushioning. He landed straight on his butt at the very bottom.

With Qi Yue wearing that half-smiling, half-not-smiling expression, Gu Zhong thought back and remembered that a few years ago, there had been quite a lot of greenery planted here. He had no idea when it had all been ruined by the chickens the neighborhood aunties kept…

When one household keeps chickens, everyone objects. When the whole neighborhood keeps chickens, nobody protests.

Sitting in the flowerbed, Gu Zhong sank into thought. This really was a peculiar social phenomenon.

And at a time like this, seriously reflecting on that social phenomenon was the best possible way to ease the awkwardness.

Even though, from the outside, it somehow looked even more awkward than the awkwardness itself.

“Did you break your tailbone?” Qi Yue looked at him, one arm hooked over the back of the seat.

“No.” Gu Zhong sprang to his feet and smacked his own butt at least twenty times.

“Check again,” Qi Yue said, still wearing that same almost-smiling look. “At this rate, you’ll probably smack it broken.”

“Go back and sleep…” Gu Zhong held on to the car door.

For a lonely old man like you, sleeping is the best choice.

He never got to say it out loud. His mouth was still hanging open when, from somewhere upstairs, someone flung down a string of firecrackers as thick as a thigh from the hallway, and it exploded directly over his head just a few meters above him.

Before he could come back to his senses, bits of spent firecracker paper flew into his mouth.

“Shut the door!” Qi Yue shouted at him with a frown.

Gu Zhong could not hear a thing at all. He could only more or less make out what Qi Yue was saying from the shape of his mouth. After hesitating for about one-thousandth of a second, he jumped into the car, dropped back into the passenger seat, and pulled the door shut in one motion.

The sound of the firecrackers dropped at once, though he could still feel the explosive force of the blasts.

Qi Yue looked at him.

“Drive!” Gu Zhong shouted. “We’re gonna blow up!”

Qi Yue kept looking at him for another second, then drove forward, made a U-turn, passed back through the thick smoke blasted out by the firecrackers, and drove the car back toward the entrance of the residential complex.

Gu Zhong glanced at the time on his phone. There was still a little while before midnight, but the smoke all around them and the sky-shaking crackle of firecrackers had already begun celebrating without pause.

He pushed the firecracker debris around in his mouth with the tip of his tongue, cracked the car window open, and quickly and accurately spat it out.

“You’re not going back?” Qi Yue also glanced at the time. “It’s almost twelve.”

“Twelve o’clock doesn’t mean anything special to the mahjong masters at my house. At most, it just means whoever isn’t at the table goes outside to light a string of firecrackers,” Gu Zhong said.

“Oh.” Qi Yue nodded and lightly tapped the steering wheel twice with his fingers. “That excuse you came up with…”

“What do you mean, excuse?” Gu Zhong cut him off.

Qi Yue said nothing. The smile at the corner of his mouth still looked as punchable as ever.

“Qi Laoban.” Gu Zhong looked at him seriously. “I think you’ve probably misun…”

“Thanks,” Qi Yue said.

“Huh?” Gu Zhong froze for a second, then automatically followed up, “No need to be so polite.”

Once he had finished saying that, he sighed and leaned back against the seat, completely unwilling to talk anymore.

“Thank you,” Qi Yue said. “Gu Zhong.”

Gu Zhong was actually pretty moved that Qi Yue had finally managed to say his name correctly.

But after saying thank you twice and then calling his name, Qi Yue went quiet, as if his voice had been swallowed up by the deafening firecrackers and fireworks outside.

Thank me for what, exactly?

Gu Zhong flicked him a glance out of the corner of his eye, but got no answer.

Even if Qi Yue had said it, with his personality it might not have been anything proper anyway. But for him to stop like that, right in the middle of it, was practically fatal teasing where curiosity was concerned.

Out of the wariness he had trained up over the long years of being messed with, he did not ask. He just waited patiently, the light of all kinds of colors flashing outside the window, and refused to so much as look in Qi Yue’s direction.

But there was no movement at all from Qi Yue’s side.

In this contest of patience, Gu Zhong ended up choosing to admit defeat. He sighed and turned his head.

“What were you thanking me fo…”

No wonder Qi Yue had won so easily. He had actually fallen asleep.

“…r?” Gu Zhong stubbornly finished the sentence and stared at Qi Yue in disbelief.

To be able to sleep in this kind of environment, with his mouth even hanging half open, what kind of willpower was that?

After making sure Qi Yue was not faking it, Gu Zhong could not help yawning too. That was just because it was contagious. Young people like them would not get sleepy at this hour. Even if he was sleepy, with smoke so thick you could not see your own middle finger and firecrackers loud enough to shake the sky, there was no way he could sleep.

So Gu Zhong started feeling a little bored, and regretted not going upstairs and coming back into the car instead.

As for why he had not gone upstairs, he was not too sure himself.

It was just that whenever he thought about how, on New Year’s Eve of all nights, Qi Yue would go back alone to the Paolou, stay in that empty three-story building by himself, lean against the window and stare blankly at a street he could not even really see, he could not quite bear it.

His grandma’s place was basically a mahjong room right now. Whether he was there or not would not make any difference to anybody. But over on Qi Yue’s side, it was the difference between loneliness and being a little less lonely.

Gu Zhong glanced at Qi Yue, who was sleeping soundly and looked like he might start drooling any second now. He did not look that lonely. Maybe if he went back, he would just go straight to sleep anyway.

Feeling bored out of his mind, Gu Zhong pressed the play button on the CD player, wanting to hear some music.

He had barely started looking for the volume controls when a burst of crazed rural disco rhythm exploded out beside his ear, forcefully drowning out even the firecrackers outside.

It blasted him so hard that he felt like even his eye sockets were trembling, and his heart was about to jump right out of his mouth.

This thing was loud enough to provide square-dancing accompaniment for a whole platoon of aunties. Qi Yue probably had a hearing disorder.

Gu Zhong gave up trying to find the volume button and just stabbed at the power switch. The music stopped.

At that moment, the fierce, monotonous sound of the firecrackers outside suddenly seemed incomparably pleasant.

“How is it?” Qi Yue had probably been blasted awake by the music. He turned his head and said, “Doesn’t it make you feel like the world is beautiful?”

“Not particularly,” Gu Zhong said. “I really didn’t expect you to have this kind of taste. Doesn’t this track have a DJ in the back yelling out kuaiban or something?”

“That’s right.” Qi Yue laughed. “Looks like you haven’t listened to it any less than I have.”

“I…” Gu Zhong wanted to refute him, but then abruptly realized that he really had heard plenty of that kind of thing, otherwise how would he know? But as for where exactly he had heard it, he could not remember, which instantly made him very annoyed. He slapped the car window. “Drive. Stop sitting here spacing out.”

“Where to?” Qi Yue turned the wheel, drove out of the intersection, and rolled slowly down the street. “Do you have a destination?”

A destination?

The way Qi Yue had phrased it was a little strange.

Most people would have asked, “Where do you want to go?” or “Do you have somewhere you want to go?” Something like that.

Do you have a destination?

Once that question was asked, Gu Zhong suddenly did not know how to answer it.

Looking at the murky white smoke outside the car window, he shook his head. “If you’re asking whether I have a destination, then no.”

Neither of them spoke again. Before the car had reached any sort of “destination,” the time display in the car ticked over to 00:00, and the sound of firecrackers outside instantly hit its peak.

“Wish me a happy New Year,” Qi Yue said.

“Happy New Year.” Without even thinking, Gu Zhong rattled off a whole string of greetings. “Happy New Year, may you be prosperous, may everything go well, may you have abundance year after year, may everything be smooth, may all go as you wish, may luck be with you in everything…”

Qi Yue did not say anything. He just reached out, lightly patted Gu Zhong on the shoulder, then gave it a gentle squeeze.

Gu Zhong did not keep going.

He had been saying auspicious New Year phrases since he was a kid. If not for the subtle tingling numbness spreading from his shoulder down his arm and across half his body, he could have gone on for a full minute.

Driving back to the Paolou was only natural.

Gu Zhong had no destination.

Qi Yue, by the looks of it, did not have one either.

Public security was excellent on New Year’s Eve. Nobody had come to the Paolou all night, and the door had not even been locked. But aside from the smoke that had drilled its way in through the crack in the glass door, no one had entered.

“So there really aren’t any thieves…” Gu Zhong walked over to the bar, planning to grab the remote and turn on the TV. By now the firecracker sounds had died down quite a bit, and in a shop with no customers, the sudden emptiness felt weirdly awkward.

When he reached for the remote, he paused. “Huh?”

“It’s dumplings,” Qi Yue said, sitting down in a chair by the window.

Gu Zhong looked back at him. At some point, a big food container had appeared on the bar. When he opened it, he saw it was packed full of fat dumplings.

“This is…” Gu Zhong held the box of dumplings.

“Maomao brought them.” Qi Yue lit a cigarette, the flame flickering in the smoke that drifted through the room. “Every year she sneaks over and leaves me a box.”

“Sneaks?” Gu Zhong carried the dumplings to the table and set them down in front of him.

“Yeah.” Qi Yue nodded. “Her mom doesn’t let her come see me.”

Gu Zhong said nothing.

“Back then,” Qi Yue said, “if I had run, he probably wouldn’t have died.”

Gu Zhong still said nothing.

He wanted to say something, but he needed time to think about what he ought to say. In the end, though, there probably was no real need to say anything at all.

Qi Yue picked up a dumpling and popped it into his mouth. Then he slumped forward onto the table and fell asleep.

Gu Zhong had seen all kinds of postures Qi Yue used when sitting or standing by the window. This was the first time he had ever seen him lying face down.

Maybe he had cried.

After all, that jianghu rumor was a tragedy.

The dumplings had sat around too long and had started sticking together. Gu Zhong went into the kitchen and found a big glass bowl, the kind they used for salad, then dumped the dumplings into it.

A few tosses ought to separate them. He had always seen his mother do it that way.

But he had never done it himself. He had only tossed them twice when one dumpling bounced right out and landed on Qi Yue’s head.

Qi Yue was still sprawled on the table. He reached up, pulled the dumpling out from inside his collar, gave it a little squeeze as if confirming what exactly it was, then finally raised his head and asked, “How come you didn’t just dump the whole bowl over my head too?”

“If you keep this up a little longer, that dream might still come true,” Gu Zhong said.

Qi Yue looked pretty normal, not like someone asleep, and not like someone who had just been crying either. But… Gu Zhong did not know if he was seeing things. Through the not especially clear air, he thought he saw tiny droplets on Qi Yue’s eyelashes, fine as needle tips.

He was probably imagining it. Leaving aside that Qi Yue could not possibly be that kind of person, even tiny droplets that fine would be hard to see clearly in broad daylight, let alone now.

Still, he set down the bowl of dumplings and, for no particular reason, reached out and gave Qi Yue’s shoulder a couple of awkward pats.

Qi Yue’s shoulders were hard with muscle. That was not surprising. After all, he was the legendary boss’s trusted second-in-command. The surprising thing was that Gu Zhong himself would actually do something like that.

Awkwardly, he pulled his hand back, picked up the glass bowl, and went on tossing the dumplings. After tossing out a third one, he gave up, threw the bowl onto the table, pinched a dumpling and stuffed it into his mouth, then turned his head toward the TV and did not want to make another sound.

“Come upstairs.” Qi Yue stretched lazily and stood up.

“Upstairs?” Gu Zhong looked at him. If they went over to the iron railing now, all they would probably get out of it was the visual experience of severe myopia. Also, it was freezing.

“To watch something,” Qi Yue said.

“Watch… something?” Gu Zhong was deeply shocked by the fact that Qi Yue could say something like that with a straight face and a steady heartbeat.

Qi Yue looked at him.

Several seconds passed before Gu Zhong came back to himself enough to ask, “Watch what?”

“A movie.” Qi Yue very rarely did not laugh at him. He said it with a completely straight face, then turned and started walking upstairs.

Only after Qi Yue had already gone up several steps did Gu Zhong follow. Then he heard him laughing. At first Qi Yue was holding it in a little, but by the time they reached the second floor, it had turned into totally unrestrained laughter.

It was very cheerful laughter.

Gu Zhong swore that after knowing Qi Yue for this long, he had never realized the man had any kind of laugh besides mocking laughter.

“I’d rather watch the Spring Festival Gala,” Gu Zhong said, retreating down the stairs.

“The gala’s been over for ages. Close the shop door and turn on the exhaust fan,” Qi Yue’s voice drifted farther and farther upstairs. “Then come up and watch the movie. Watching alone is boring.”

Gu Zhong stayed silent.

“I don’t want to be by myself.” Qi Yue had probably already reached the third floor. His voice was almost swallowed up by the lingering after-echo of firecrackers outside.

Close the shop door. It was already well past midnight. Maomao’s dad had probably already come and gone.

Turn on the exhaust fan.

In the low hum of the fan, Gu Zhong stood there blankly for two full minutes, then went to the bar, made two cups of milk tea, and carried them up to the third floor.

The little attic room with the slanted roof was open. Qi Yue was half reclining against a roll of bundled stalks.

Carrying the milk tea inside, Gu Zhong handed him one cup and said, “This straw is so white.”

“Bleached corn husks, not straw.” Qi Yue took the milk tea and shifted a bit to one side, making room for him on half a roll of the corn husks. “Sit.”

Gu Zhong sat down and leaned back against the roll of corn husks. It was so comfortable he had to stop himself from sighing out loud.

But it really was comfortable.

He realized that Qi Yue looked sloppy and carefree, as if nothing mattered to him, but in a lot of the little details you could also tell he was a person who lived very seriously. It was a pretty contradictory combination.

And on New Year’s Eve, after inviting someone upstairs to watch a movie, the movie he was watching was actually Young and Dangerous, the kind of movie from the previous generation.

“This movie’s older than I am, isn’t it?” Gu Zhong took a sip of milk tea and looked at the very dated color tone, and at those several faces that had still been in the full flush of youth back then.

“Seen it before?” Qi Yue asked.

“Yeah,” Gu Zhong said.

“You’ve seen it even though it’s older than you?” Qi Yue slid down a little and half reclined there, looking at the screen that took up half the wall.

The last time he had come in here, either he had been blind or he had simply never looked in that direction at all. Gu Zhong had had no idea there was such a big screen in here.

“I saw it in junior high. My classmates said it was a total classic, so I watched it,” Gu Zhong said.

To be honest, the impression it had left on him was pretty deep. Even now, whenever the music started, goosebumps still rose on his arms. It gave him a feeling he could not really explain.

Jianghu.

Brotherhood.

A different kind of youth.

For no clear reason, it would get him all fired up.

Qi Yue said nothing more, just watched in silence with his arm pillowed behind his head.

Gu Zhong slowly drank his milk tea in silence too. The corn husks smelled nice, fresh and clean. Mixed with the scent of the milk tea, it gave off a kind of calm, sweet warmth.

The installment Qi Yue was watching was Winner Takes All, and he seemed pretty absorbed in it. In the little room, apart from the sound of the movie, the only other noise was the occasional sound Gu Zhong made while drinking his milk tea.

Gu Zhong was not watching all that seriously. No matter how good a movie was, once he had seen it several times, there was no way he could keep staring at the screen the way Qi Yue did.

His gaze kept shifting between the screen and the tattoo sleeve on Qi Yue’s arm that had been revealed after he took off his jacket.

He was probably feeling a lot, wasn’t he?

As soon as Gu Zhong thought that Qi Yue might once have had experiences similar to the ones in the movie, even if definitely not quite that dramatic, it was enough to make him feel a wave of emotion.

“When you used to watch this, were you kind of envious?” Qi Yue asked.

“Yeah. I just thought that kind of… for your brothers, for loyalty, for feelings… how do I put it? It really gets your blood pumping.” Gu Zhong cleared his throat. “Does that make me kind of an idiot?”

Qi Yue had always taken a somewhat understated but firm stance against this sort of thing, and he really had in fact said before, Gu Zhong, you’re an idiot.

“You’re making progress.” Qi Yue took a sip of milk tea. “You’ve started to develop some self-awareness.”

“Thank you, boss, for the praise,” Gu Zhong said.

“Weren’t you kind of envious of me too?” Qi Yue turned his head and asked again over the ending theme.

Gu Zhong looked at him and said nothing.

He was not envious.

But he did think it was kind of cool.

When he had first heard that jianghu rumor, he had thought of the phrase friends through life and death. He had also thought, so this is what it means to have a bond forged by risking your life.

But this kind of risking-your-life was not any kind of beautiful memory.

“I’m not envious.” Gu Zhong drained the rest of his milk tea. “I used to think it was cool. I don’t anymore.”

Before today, he might not have been this sure.

But when he saw that door shut in front of Qi Yue, he had no idea what Qi Yue had felt.

Even if it had happened to a stranger, watching a room full of warmth and happiness disappear right in front of you, cut off by a cold door that closed without the slightest hesitation, the chill that hit in that instant would still be enough to make anyone uncomfortable.

It also seemed to be in that very instant that Gu Zhong suddenly understood what all the things Qi Yue had said to him over the time they had known each other had really meant.

How Qi Yue had tricked him around until he stood him up for that arranged fight. How he had mocked him, called him an idiot, told him to get lost, told him that some things would make you regret them for the rest of your life.

“I suddenly feel…” Gu Zhong also pillowed both hands behind his head and looked at the end credits rolling upward on the screen. “Do you maybe have a bit of a housewife streak in you?”

“If you’re moved, just say you’re moved,” Qi Yue said. “You don’t have to force yourself to hold back. A kid like you, I can see right through you at a glance.”

“Then you’re a housewife who’s especially good at bragging,” Gu Zhong said. “What exactly is it you think you’ve seen through?”

“You’re wearing black underwear today,” Qi Yue said.

“Who?” Gu Zhong was so shocked he instinctively started to tug at his own waistband to look inside.

“You.” Qi Yue sat up to grab the remote, probably getting ready to look for another movie. “Wasn’t that seeing right through you enough?”

“No, you…” Gu Zhong did not actually need to tug his waistband to confirm that Qi Yue was right. All of his underwear was the same cut and the same color. “So you’ve actually got this shameless hobby of peeping? Did you install a camera in the bathroom or something?!”

“When the weather’s hot,” Qi Yue said, looking at the screen, his tone unhurried, “every time you lift your arms, I can see the waistband of your underwear. Back then I even wondered, black every single day, does this young man not change his underwear all week? That’s pretty slovenly.”

Gu Zhong closed his eyes.

He really had never imagined that his perfect little shopping trick for avoiding decision fatigue could give someone that kind of impression.

“It’s black, right?” Qi Yue had picked a new movie and leaned back. As he did, he casually hooked a finger into Gu Zhong’s waistband.

Gu Zhong felt like he had already gone numb to the state of being shocked. He did not even move. He just stared at Qi Yue’s hand and watched him pull the waistband out and let it snap back, making a smack against his stomach, and only then did he sigh.

He was completely speechless.

After finishing the hot-blooded Chicken, the moment he saw the title Silent Hill appear on the screen, a chill ran over his back. The room had felt a little too warm earlier because it was so small, but now the temperature abruptly seemed just right.

“Can’t you watch something more festive?” Gu Zhong asked.

“No. Oh, actually, yes, I can.” Qi Yue pressed pause. “I’ve got Pleasant Goat too, the kind all little kids like. If that’s what you want to watch…”

Gu Zhong snatched the remote from his hand and hit play.

“Are you scared of horror movies?” Qi Yue asked.

“Yeah. Apparently people with especially healthy minds don’t like watching them,” Gu Zhong said. “And I don’t think this even counts as a horror movie. It’s not scary. It’s more… hopeless.”

“Is that so?” Qi Yue turned his head.

“That’s just how it feels to me. I might be wrong. I’ve only seen it once,” Gu Zhong said. “After I finished it, I couldn’t catch my breath.”

Qi Yue smiled. “I’ve probably seen it more than fifty times.”

“And those Young and Dangerous movies too, right?” Gu Zhong said. Just now Qi Yue had not looked like he was watching all that intently. Even though he had been staring straight at it, the feeling he gave off was that he was just looking, not really watching a movie.

“Yeah,” Qi Yue said with a nod.

“You’re not actually…” Gu Zhong said, “watching only these few movies, over and over, every day, are you?”

“Exactly.” Qi Yue raised a thumbs-up. “Young man, you suddenly have astonishing powers of judgment.”

“You’re a pretty strange person,” Gu Zhong said. “You spend all day soaking in this shop and never go anywhere. In the shop you do nothing except zone out at the street. And when you watch movies, it’s the same few, hundreds of times over. Don’t you get bored?”

“I also cook steak,” Qi Yue said. “And pizza too.”

“And hardly anyone orders any all day.” For no reason, Gu Zhong was suddenly getting hungry and badly wanted some beef short ribs. “Is there any left in the kitchen?”

“After this movie, I’ll make you some,” Qi Yue said.

“Oh.” Gu Zhong did not know why that line made him feel a little warm inside.

He had never noticed before that he was this easy to move.

Now that he had the promise of beef short ribs waiting for him, Gu Zhong settled comfortably against the corn husks and started watching the movie in earnest.

A lot of the plot points he no longer remembered clearly, so he could basically treat it like a new movie. The only thing he really still remembered was the despair at the end, mixed with melancholy and helplessness.

Qi Yue remained just as he had before, looking at the screen, occasionally taking a sip of milk tea, sometimes shifting to another position to lean against the roll.

Gu Zhong did not know why Qi Yue liked this kind of movie. The two films were completely different, but from a certain angle they still carried a strangely similar feeling.

A kind of hopelessness.

Gu Zhong closed his eyes and, at a particularly frightening part, turned his head to look at Qi Yue. “Do you…”

“Are you scared to watch this part?” Qi Yue turned his head and interrupted him.

“Uh… yeah,” Gu Zhong said.

“What were you going to ask?” Qi Yue smiled.

“Were you… do you feel like your life is especially hopeless?” Gu Zhong asked.

“Talking to your boss like that doesn’t seem very appropriate, does it?” Qi Yue said. “Aren’t you afraid that if your boss loses all hope, he won’t pay your wages either?”

“When you pull on an employee’s pants, how come you don’t think that’s inappropriate?” Gu Zhong sighed.

“That’s a very solid point.” Qi Yue laughed and tipped his head back a little, looking at the photos on the slanted ceiling. “Do I look like someone with no hope left?”

“Not exactly. That’s not the right way to put it. I can’t really explain it.” Gu Zhong also tipped his head back to look at the photos. “Only sometimes. You can’t tell from the outside, but it just feels like inside, you’re… really dispirited.”

Qi Yue made no sound.

“I don’t know whether you’re this worried about other people too.” Gu Zhong sat up and turned to face Qi Yue. He had not wanted to use such a formal, concerned posture, but what was on the screen was too creepy. If he did not turn around, he was going to end up covering his eyes with his hands. “Anyway, I know you don’t want me envying this kind of jianghu life where people settle grudges fast and hard, right?”

“Mm.” Qi Yue answered. “You’re too stupid. You’d get beaten to death too easily.”

“You said some things make you regret them for a lifetime.” Gu Zhong looked at him. “You meant yourself, right? Maomao’s dad died, and you can’t go home anymore. Friends, family, two of the most important things in a person’s life.”

Qi Yue had been looking at him the whole time, listening quietly and intently as he spoke. The moment Gu Zhong finished that last sentence, Qi Yue abruptly turned his head away and laughed out loud.

“What are you laughing for? Do you even know how to identify the key point?” Gu Zhong said.

Qi Yue laughed for quite a while before finally stopping. Then he let out a long breath, sat up too, and stared at him face-to-face for a moment.

“Actually, if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t bother worrying like this.”

Gu Zhong froze for a second before realizing Qi Yue had looped the topic back around to what they had been talking about earlier. “Huh?”

“Fate, I guess,” Qi Yue said. “To be honest, there’s nothing especially remarkable about you. But the feeling I have toward you is different from what I feel toward other people. Do you get what I mean?”

“I do.” Gu Zhong nodded.

The scary scene on the screen still had not ended. He swept a glance at it, then quickly turned his head back again and looked at Qi Yue.

“Want to switch to something else?” Qi Yue asked.

“No need,” Gu Zhong said. “I doubt there are any normal movies at your place anyway.”

“Fine then.” Qi Yue looked at the screen. “Do you want me to find you a throw pillow?”

“That’s not necessary…” Gu Zhong settled himself back against the roll of corn husks.

The screen was dark, and for the moment he could not tell what kind of shot it was. Just now he had not felt much, but now that he was leaning back like this, he suddenly felt something… subtle. He stared at the screen for a long time and still could not focus enough to make sense of what he was seeing.

The little room was the private space Qi Yue had partitioned off for himself. Usually he spent very little time in here, basically just sleeping, so the space was small. It gave a person the feeling of being wrapped up, safe and comfortable.

But right at this moment, that comfort was turning into a subtle feeling spread through the air and through every breath.

Whenever he tried to pin it down exactly, it dissolved. The moment he let his attention wander, it quietly seeped back in around them again, leaving him a little uneasy, but not uncomfortable.

Gu Zhong still remembered the ending of the movie very clearly. After he finished watching it, he let out a soft sigh tinged with melancholy, stretched out his legs, and stared blankly at the slanted ceiling of the little room.

“Beef short ribs,” Qi Yue said. “What else?”

“Nothing else.” Gu Zhong rubbed his stomach. Leaning back on the corn husks like this, he felt like some pampered grand old man. “Eating too much in the middle of the night makes you gain weight.”

“Look at you being particular.” Qi Yue sat up, grabbed the remote, pressed a few buttons, and Pleasant Goat popped onto the screen. “Watch this while you wait. I’ll go make it.”

“Can I pick for myself?” Gu Zhong said.

“Pick for yourself.” Qi Yue dropped the remote onto his stomach, casually pressed his hand against Gu Zhong’s stomach twice, then stood up. “You’re not fat anyway.”

Gu Zhong looked at him.

“Beef short ribs. The usual rules, thank you,” Gu Zhong said with a sigh.

Qi Yue went downstairs. Gu Zhong sat there holding the remote and spent a long time picking through the movies. Qi Yue’s collection felt like it had not been updated in years. They were all old movies.

Who would have thought he was the nostalgic type.

Then again, maybe it was not nostalgia.

There were only ten-odd movies total. Gu Zhong gave the titles a rough scan. The newest one was probably a Pleasant Goat movie, and in his memory even that had to be six or seven years old.

Maybe it was because he had just finished watching Silent Hill, but he suddenly had a bizarre feeling. It was as if Qi Yue had been trapped in memories from six or seven years ago, permanently stuck on that very night from the jianghu rumor…

The hairs on his body stood up. He hurriedly clicked on some random movie.

Before the opening sequence had even finished, he heard a crashing sound. It was not very loud, and for a moment he could not even tell where it was coming from. But he could still tell it was not firecrackers. At this hour there were not that many firecrackers left anymore.

When the second burst of noise followed right after, he recognized it.

It was the sound of glass shattering.

It had to be… downstairs on the first floor.

He flung the remote aside, yanked open the door of the little room, and rushed out. After charging forward two steps, he suddenly wheeled back, shut the little room door again, and shoved the table that was usually kept by the doorway back into place.

He did not know why, but this little room felt to him like some kind of protective shell, something that sheltered parts of Qi Yue’s vulnerability that nobody else knew about. Even if the whole shop got smashed to pieces, he still wanted to preserve the little room.

The sound of glass breaking felt awful.

Even though this was New Year’s Eve, and in his understanding normal people ought not to be causing trouble on a day like this, he still uncontrollably thought of the night Qi Yue had told him to get lost and he had not left.

As he ran downstairs, another shattering crash rang out, this one much louder. At this rate, by the time he got down to the first floor, all six of the big windows downstairs would probably be smashed clean through.

As he passed the second floor, he snatched up a mop on the way. He used that thing every day, and when he held it, it felt natural in his hands, perfectly handy and obedient. One casual swing and he could probably unleash a whole lost set of staff techniques.

But compared to all that, what he was more worried about was Qi Yue.

When it came to fighting, being ruthless, and dealing with trouble, Qi Yue did not need anyone worrying over him.

The problem was that he did not seem willing to fight back.

And if you were talking about taking a beating, he was not exactly outstanding at that.

Gripping the mop, he had just rounded the corner of the second floor and taken two steps downward when Qi Yue came up toward him head-on. Before Gu Zhong could ask what was going on, Qi Yue pointed at him and said in a low voice, “Go upstairs.”

“Go where?” Gu Zhong lowered his voice too.

“Third floor.” Qi Yue yanked the mop out of his hand and dragged him back upward by the arm.

“Should we call the police?” Gu Zhong asked.

“Let the cops have a peaceful New Year’s Eve for once,” Qi Yue said.

Another sound came from downstairs, this time of a table being overturned. Gu Zhong said nothing more and followed Qi Yue back to the third floor, where they stood by the window.

“Do we need to hide?” He sighed helplessly.

“They won’t come upstairs.” Qi Yue pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between his lips, but did not light it.

“Who… are these people? They’re really dedicated. On New Year’s Eve, and they’re still out looking for a fight?” Gu Zhong said.

“Ordinary people,” Qi Yue said.

“Does your definition of ordinary people differ a little from the rest of us ordinary people?” Gu Zhong listened to the sounds of those “ordinary people” downstairs smashing things up.

“Do you think it’s that easy to be anything other than ordinary?” Qi Yue took the cigarette back out of his mouth and looked out into the blur beyond the window. “In that jianghu rumor of yours, the boss’s enemy had three brothers.”

“Huh?” Gu Zhong froze.

Qi Yue pointed downward. “They’re downstairs.”

“No, wait…” Gu Zhong finally came back to himself. “Isn’t the boss already… then why still hasn’t this ended?”

“Some things,” Qi Yue said, “just never end.”

The smashing did not last long, maybe only about ten minutes, before the people left. It was New Year’s Eve after all. They probably still had family gatherings to get back to.

Qi Yue went downstairs to make the beef short ribs. Gu Zhong stood by the third-floor window for another few minutes before following him down.

It was a very familiar sight, as if he had returned to the first day he had stepped into the Paolou.

All the glass was shattered. The floor was covered in shards. The exhaust fan had been turned on for nothing, because now the whole place was filled again with the cold smell of gunpowder and smoke.

Anything that had been left outside was no longer standing. Whatever could be knocked over had been knocked over, whatever could be smashed had been smashed.

Only the back kitchen had remained intact, because the heavy iron door was locked.

Gu Zhong stuck his head through the serving window over the bar and into the kitchen, and immediately felt a trace of warmth.

Qi Yue was busy with his back to him.

“No way this place can open tomorrow, right?” he asked.

“That question really was a classic piece of nonsense,” Qi Yue said.

“I’ll clean up a little first,” Gu Zhong said. “Sweep up the glass and stuff.”

“No need.” Qi Yue glanced back at him. “We’re not opening for business anyway. In a couple days I’ll get people in to clean it up, and the glass will have to be reinstalled too.”

“Then… do you have any plastic sheeting or something? To block the windows?” Gu Zhong asked again.

“No need,” Qi Yue said. “Just leave it like that.”

Gu Zhong opened his mouth, then did not continue.

In the dead of winter, with all the glass smashed and the whole place a wreck, the northern wind pouring in made him realize that he only had on a T-shirt. He had left his thick coat up in the little room on the third floor.

“Are you cold?” he asked Qi Yue.

“Cold,” Qi Yue said.

Gu Zhong pointed upstairs. “Then I…”

“Want to come over here and warm each other up with an embrace?” Qi Yue cut in quickly.

“No,” Gu Zhong said.

Qi Yue turned his head, looked at him with a smile, and did not say anything.

The first floor had turned drafty, but the temperature on the third floor had not been affected that much.

Gu Zhong sat at the table and watched Qi Yue set plate after plate down in front of him.

“One order of beef short ribs would have been enough. Why’d you make a whole set meal too?” He felt a little embarrassed.

“Isn’t this your usual habit?” Qi Yue sat down and looked at him. “Eat. If you wait any longer, it’ll be breakfast.”

Gu Zhong picked up his knife and fork. “Aren’t you going to eat something?”

“I can’t eat,” Qi Yue said. “I don’t have an appetite as good as yours.”

“Oh.” Gu Zhong lowered his head and slowly cut into the meat.

His own shop had just been smashed up. No matter who it was, they probably would not be able to eat.

Not just Qi Yue. As a mere employee, and one who mainly did odd jobs at that, even Gu Zhong felt like he was not eating very happily, though he only realized it after already taking several bites.

In the end, his mood was still not very good.

“Do they come smash the place often?” Gu Zhong asked while eating. “I feel like your shop is getting wrecked all the time.”

“Once a year,” Qi Yue said.

“They always pick New Year’s Eve?” Gu Zhong gave him a look.

“Mm.” Qi Yue nodded.

Gu Zhong took a bite of meat. “Did the incident… happen on New Year’s Eve too?”

“Mm.” Qi Yue nodded again.

“Will it keep being like this forever?” Gu Zhong frowned.

“I don’t know,” Qi Yue said. “When something happens on a day like this, wanting to erase it isn’t that easy, is it?”

Gu Zhong did not ask any more questions. He just focused on eating.

Qi Yue’s cooking was extremely good. Even in a mood like this, it had not affected the flavor of the beef short ribs at all. The side dishes, the soup, and the dessert had all maintained the same standard.

Qi Yue held a glass of plain boiled water in his hand and watched him the whole time.

Only after Gu Zhong finished eating did Qi Yue set the glass down and say, “Get some sleep. I’m sleepy.”

Gu Zhong stood up, gathered everything together, and carried it downstairs. After washing the plates, he came out and saw Qi Yue squatting by the back door on the first floor, brushing his teeth.

“Do you have an extra toothbrush and stuff?” he asked.

Qi Yue pointed to the floor beside him.

There was a cup there, with a neatly folded towel and a brand-new toothbrush set on top of it.

As Gu Zhong squatted down beside Qi Yue and started brushing his teeth together with him, he did not feel the slightest bit awkward.

He really was getting less and less formal around him.