Bro | Chapter 18

For two whole days, Wei Zhiyuan stubbornly refused to say a single word to the enemy, Song Xiaobao. As long as Wei Qian was home, the boy followed him around all day, in and out, wherever he went.

Every time Wei Qian turned around, Wei Zhiyuan was right there behind him, practically underfoot. Wei Qian was genuinely getting annoyed by being trailed around like this, but he also knew exactly why Wei Zhiyuan was being so awkward, so he did not want to lose his temper at him.

So, in a rare moment, Wei Qian lightly muddied the waters and smoothed things over. “Behave and play together. Don’t fight.”

This time, the imperial edict had come down. Wei Zhiyuan had no choice. He could only thank the emperor for his grace and, full of resentment, reestablish diplomatic relations with Song Xiaobao.

When it came to competing for favor, Song Xiaobao truly could not hold a candle to Wei Zhiyuan. There was no helping it, she was just missing a vital wire in that department by nature.

For example, the moment Wei Qian pushed open the door, he might find the little boy quietly sweeping the floor and wiping down the table by himself, while Xiao Bao, with the pair of eyes on her face apparently there only for breathing, sat on the sofa watching TV as if she saw absolutely nothing. She had only just come back, so Wei Qian did not want to get cross with his little sister. He only said a couple of mild words to her, but in sharp contrast, he rewarded Wei Zhiyuan with an extra ten-yuan as pocket money.

The next day, Song Xiaobao, green with envy, got up early in the morning and huffed and puffed her way through a full housecleaning. She worked briskly and finished before noon. Wei Zhiyuan watched coldly from the side, practically wanting to sneer. Sure enough, when Wei Qian came back that night, he did not notice at all that the room had gotten cleaner.

Another time, after Wei Qian finished washing up at night, he looked all around for the dirty socks he had taken off, planning to wash them while he was at it, only to discover Wei Zhiyuan hanging the freshly washed socks on the drying pole. That day, Wei Zhiyuan happily wagged himself all over while enjoying an embarrassed little head pat and praise from big brother.

Song Xiaobao was full of envy, jealousy, and hate, so she tried to copy him. The next day, she stretched out her little claws toward the underwear big brother had changed out of, only for Wei Qian to snatch it away, blushing bright red. And… what she got in return was a shout from big brother like someone had stepped on his tail.

“What are you touching things for?”

Which only showed how unfair the world really was. Wei Zhiyuan and Song Xiaobao actually belonged to the same species!

The moment Grandma Song discovered that Xiao Bao was gone, she knew the girl had run back to that “little hooligan.”

Not far from the shantytown where Wei Qian and the others lived, there was a privately run communal dormitory, separated into men’s and women’s quarters, specifically for migrant workers in the city. It cost one-yuan a day per person. If Xiao Bao and her grandmother slept together, then the two of them only had to pay for one person.

Grandma Song had originally planned to save up a little money and rent a room in a small one-story house with Xiao Bao. If that really did not work, then she would take Xiao Bao back to the old hometown with her.

Who would have thought that the moment the idea of “going back to the old hometown” was brought up, Xiao Bao ran off. In the end, she simply could not bear to leave the home she had lived in for nearly ten years.

Ever since Xiao Bao returned home, Grandma Song had been sneaking around near Wei Qian’s place every day, circling past once, just so she could steal a look at Xiao Bao when Wei Qian was out.

The end of the year was drawing near, and the savage winter was in full force. In the women’s dormitory, one young woman unfortunately came down with infectious tuberculosis. Everyone had no choice but to scatter in a rush and move out together, all while nervously imagining symptoms in themselves, wondering whether they had started coughing or running low fevers.

Grandma Song also rolled up her bedding and carried her things out.

Walking through this city, far too noisy and chaotic, she saw a homeless man under a bridge, nearly frozen to death. She stopped for a while and noticed that no one paid him any attention at all. He was almost frozen stiff. It was not until that afternoon that a middle-aged husband and wife passing by happened to stop and check on him, and then called the police.

The police car came quickly and took the man away. From what passersby were saying, Grandma Song learned that if he survived, he might be sent to a shelter for vagrants, or he might be repatriated and sent back to his place of household registration.

His place of registration…

Grandma Song looked up at the vast and gloomy sky above this northern city and thought, It’s almost New Year. Why don’t I just go back to the old hometown?

But if a lone old woman spent New Year’s by herself, could that still count as New Year’s?

Grandma Song lowered her head, wiped away a string of snot brought on by the cold, and made up her mind. Forget this old face of mine.

And Song Xiaobao finally lived up to expectations by turning her elbow outward yet again.

That day was the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month, Little New Year. When Wei Qian came home carrying freshly bought sugar melons and pork for dumpling filling, he saw at once that the area outside the front door was in total chaos. Inside, a silent war was in progress.

Song Xiaobao was greedy. She could not let go of the big brother who had raised her since she was little, and she also could not let go of the grandmother tied to her by blood. So when Grandma came to the door wiping away tears, Xiao Bao still let her in… even though everything that had happened before was already enough for her to understand the drawn-sword tension between Grandma and big brother.

Big brother had not come back yet, but Wei Zhiyuan, who usually acted like an invisible person and never made a sound, was the first to refuse to put up with it.

Ever since Xiao Bao had acknowledged him as a second brother and stopped provoking him, Wei Zhiyuan had always treated her pretty well. He had hardly ever fallen out with her. It was as though a single form of address was enough to make a child understand restraint and consideration. The cold war from two days ago did not count. Song Xiaobao knew she was in the wrong there.

So Xiao Bao had not expected Wei Zhiyuan’s reaction to be so intense. He stared at Grandma Song and Xiao Bao at the door like a vicious dog whose territory had been invaded.

If either of them showed the slightest sign of trying to cross the line, he was prepared to pounce on them and fight to the death.

Grandma Song had always looked down on Wei Qian, but she did not have much of an opinion on Wei Zhiyuan. Wei Zhiyuan was just a child. He was good-looking, and his personality was not the sort that irritated people. At first glance, he was more likable than noisy Xiao Bao.

Grandma Song first stood in the doorway and tried to reason with him, but unfortunately Wei Zhiyuan would not listen to a single word of human speech. That ferocious, almost venomous look shooting from the eyes of such a small boy made him seem especially chilling.

Grandma Song gave up on solving the matter peacefully, took one step over the threshold, and set her luggage down inside.

Wei Zhiyuan grabbed the old lady’s bundle and mercilessly threw it back out. He still was not satisfied. He turned around and started throwing out Song Xiaobao’s schoolbag, the things Xiao Bao had set on the table, all of it scattering outward like heavenly maidens strewing flowers. Then he turned and ran into the bedroom, grabbed Xiao Bao’s pillow and quilt from the bed, and threw those out too in one sweep.

If only Song Xiaobao did not exist. If only neither of them existed. Wei Zhiyuan was so blinded by rage that only this one sentence remained in his heart.

Song Xiaobao tried to shove him, and Wei Zhiyuan shoved her backhanded so hard she landed flat on her backside.

“Traitor!” He pointed at Song Xiaobao’s nose. Hypocritically, instead of saying what he actually wanted, he first pinned a grand and righteous crime on her, instinctively trying to cover up his own feelings. “You’re a huge traitor!”

At first Song Xiaobao tried to defend herself. “I’m not a traitor. That’s my grandma.”

Wei Zhiyuan spat, “Pah! She’s a shameless old witch!”

The moment Song Xiaobao heard that, she stopped putting up with it too. She jumped in place and said, “You’re cursing my grandma! What right does a little bastard like you have to curse my grandma? This is my home! My Ge! My grandma! You’re not part of my family! You get out!”

Wei Zhiyuan froze for two seconds. All at once, he had no words left.

Cooling down from his violent anger, he realized that there was not a single thing wrong with what Song Xiaobao had said.

Wei Zhiyuan had almost forgotten. This really was not his home. Wei Qian really was not his biological brother. And he really, truly had no right to decide who was allowed in and who was not.

The boy’s fierce momentum vanished all at once like smoke. He stood there speechless, and his face flushed bright red in a rush, impossible to tell whether it was anger or shame.

In the blink of an eye, his childish pride had been smashed to pieces.

The moment the words left her mouth, Song Xiaobao regretted them, but her natural clumsiness in dealing with people took over once again. Even though she regretted it, she did not know what to do, so she could only stand there stubbornly, wearing a willful expression.

The two children fell silent at the same time for a full minute. Then Wei Zhiyuan said nothing at all, walked past her, turned, and headed out.

Song Xiaobao finally felt that something was wrong and softly called after him, “Er-ge.”

Wei Zhiyuan did not even pause.

Empty-handed, he walked straight out with a bleak resolve that was practically the same as smashing the cauldrons and sinking the boats.

Gritting his teeth, Wei Zhiyuan thought, Fine, then I’ll go. It’s nothing much. At worst I’ll just go back to fighting stray dogs over food in the trash bins. No matter what, it’s definitely better than before. I’m already three years older. I consider myself a man now. Forget stray dogs, even those ill-intentioned adults I ran into that day, I could beat them with a steel pipe…

And then, in the spirit of “the wind whistles, the Yi River runs cold,” he lowered his head and charged straight into someone’s arms.

That person wrapped an arm around his back. The familiar smell of cheap tobacco came over him, and in a single instant, Wei Zhiyuan’s mood changed in a way that even he himself could not understand. In the blink of an eye, he went from a brave man forging ahead to a little boy full of grievance.

Wei Zhiyuan buried his face in Wei Qian’s chest and clung to him desperately, standing there without moving, refusing to let big brother go inside and equally refusing to lift his head. He tried with all his might not to cry. Both hands clenched Wei Qian’s coat into layer upon layer of wrinkles.

The moment Wei Qian looked up, he saw the mess of luggage and bedding in the hallway, Grandma Song whose expression had shifted from awkwardness into defensiveness… and Xiao Bao, looking at him timidly.

Wei Qian drew in a deep breath. He wanted with all his heart to slap that old thing to death. But Xiao Bao… his precious girl had only just come back.

He had to throw the rat for fear of breaking the vase.

Wei Qian understood that if he wanted to keep Xiao Bao, then he would probably have to give in to this shriveled, skinny old bitch who did not own a single valuable thing… even though the knot in his heart was as big as a fist, so huge it seemed it wanted to tear out through his chest, wailing.

He had always prided himself on never bowing his head to anyone, even if his own life was as worthless as rotten mud… until his little sister, with those tear-filled eyes of hers, forced him into the first compromise of his life.

They remained locked there for a long while before Wei Qian finally reached out and lightly pushed Wei Zhiyuan’s shoulder. The child stiffly refused to move, so Wei Qian put a little more force into it, held his chin, and lifted Wei Zhiyuan’s head.

The boy let out a sigh, picked out the biggest sugar melon from the paper packet, and stuffed it into Wei Zhiyuan’s mouth.

Wei Zhiyuan licked at it in a daze and found it sweet. He liked sweet things, but he did not like the kind of sweetness sugar melon had, so he pushed it aside with his tongue. One cheek puffed out with a lump, and he used his teeth to keep the sugar melon separated from his tongue, waiting for it to melt slowly on its own.

Next, Wei Qian stuffed the plastic bag and paper packet in his hands into Wei Zhiyuan’s arms, then slid both hands under his armpits and lifted him up like a kitten, carrying him into the house.

“Help me wash the vegetables. We’re eating dumplings tonight.” As he spoke, Wei Qian deliberately ignored the fact that there were still two other people in the room. His attitude was almost gentle as he asked Wei Zhiyuan, “Does the sugar melon taste good?”

Wei Zhiyuan hesitated for a moment, then nodded. After a while, the little boy secretly pulled the sugar melon, which he had isolated behind his teeth, back into his mouth and licked it. It turned out to be all right. Not that awful after all.

Wei Qian did not acknowledge Grandma Song. He did not stop Xiao Bao from letting her in. He also did not help Xiao Bao pick up her things.

…However, when Grandma Song stepped timidly into the kitchen, watched his reaction for a moment, and then cautiously began chopping filling and rolling out wrappers, he likewise said nothing.

Wei Zhiyuan still felt bitter and unsettled. Song Xiaobao was full of anxiety. As for the remaining one adult and one almost-adult teenager, the two of them arrived at a strange tacit understanding. Without discussing it, they both maintained peace on the surface. Neither side lost, and neither side won.

In the end, Grandma Song still failed to snatch her precious granddaughter away from the side of that stinking hooligan, while Wei Qian could only pinch his nose and tolerate this hateful old undead thing moving into his home, which had never been large to begin with.

Even though they had to see each other day in and day out, the two of them perfectly treated each other like air. Neither one paid the other any attention.

That night, Song Xiaobao awkwardly apologized to Wei Zhiyuan. Wei Zhiyuan glanced at Wei Qian’s expression and, against his will, indicated that he would not hold it against her.

That matter was considered over. Xiao Bao was still the little sister, and Xiao Yuan was still the second brother. After that, on some days, the two of them would even gather together to compare answers on their winter-break homework.

Before, they had always done homework together in Song Xiaobao’s little room. There was a desk there and a simple little bookshelf. But from that day onward, Wei Zhiyuan never entered the little room again.

He moved all his textbooks and exercise books out, used two pieces of stiff cardboard to prop up the uneven legs of a little table in the living room that was not usually used much, and from then on settled himself there.

Wei Qian understood the situation clearly, so he just let him do as he pleased.

Later, when Xiao Bao got a little older and was no longer quite so heartless and carefree, and began to have a few small schemes of her own, she tried again and again, under all kinds of pretexts, to get Xiao Yuan to go inside. Unfortunately, Wei Zhiyuan did not buy any of it. Until the day they moved away from that old, historic shantytown, Wei Zhiyuan never once set foot in the little room again.