Chapter 13

Fang Zhuo put down the phone and ran over to help Ye Yuncheng.

The kitchen was spacious, but it still used an old-style stove, and the space for the gas cylinder was rather cramped. When Fang Zhuo came over, Ye Yuncheng found it a bit hard to move around.

The two of them, not very in sync, busied themselves for two hours before finally getting dinner ready. Fang Zhuo moved the table and chairs in front of the TV and turned up the volume to listen to the songs from the gala.

This was Fang Zhuo’s first properly celebrated festival. Although she was happy, she also felt very nervous—afraid that if she came over a few more times, she would eat through the savings Ye Yuncheng had built up over many years.

Ye Yuncheng saw that her eyes had no real focus as they fell on the TV screen, even eating with absentmindedness, seemingly troubled as she thought carefully about how to phrase something. He patted her thin shoulder, signaled her to pull the chair closer, and said with a smile, “Are you worried your uncle doesn’t have money? Uncle has money. Didn’t I send you money before?”

Fang Zhuo: “I know.”

She knew that Ye Yuncheng had saved up a sum of money—precisely because she knew how he had saved it that she couldn’t bear to spend it.

Fang Zhuo had lived through hard times. Back then, the state didn’t have strong subsidies for rural households in difficulty. Her grandmother didn’t have senior benefits, nor did she have land-loss insurance, so she had no stable income. Fang Yiming wasn’t a filial person. In over ten years, he had only come back twice, stayed for less than half a day each time, so he probably didn’t give them much financial support. Because of that, they lived in extreme poverty for a long time.

Poverty meant being unable to feel the progress of society, the development of technology. The only thing that could be felt was the bowl of rice in front of her. If there was food to eat, if one could get full, only then was there the strength to open one’s eyes and look at the world—even if that strength was only the feeble struggle of a tiny bit of will.

Fang Zhuo couldn’t bear to see Ye Yuncheng scrimp and save, tightening his belt just to support her. She didn’t like that either.

She hated the feeling of dragging others down.

Ye Yuncheng suddenly said, “I went to see you once.”

Fang Zhuo looked over curiously.

Ye Yuncheng gave a slight smile, tilted his head, half of his face shadowed, and said calmly, “I was still young then, about your age, still in high school. But I was much worse than you—didn’t understand anything, couldn’t do anything. The family was down to just me. I didn’t even know what I should be doing.”

Fang Zhuo lowered her head to take a bite of rice, murmuring, “Actually, I don’t really know either. I just know how to study.”

Ye Yuncheng said, “Studying is right, but I couldn’t keep going. I dropped out once in primary school because of my disability, and again in my third year of middle school when my parents passed away. I felt too tired—each time I had to face so many strangers, unfamiliar knowledge, but none of them could tell me what my future would look like.”

A confused expression appeared on Fang Zhuo’s face. She didn’t know what kind of life she would’ve lived in his place.

Maybe if she truly had to face it, no matter how miserable life was, she’d still want to live on. She was the kind of person like a stray cat on the street—not striving toward some bright future, maybe unable to even see the end at all, but from the bones, she just couldn’t stand the crushing weight of so-called fate, so she fought with all her might to show her sharp claws.

But Ye Yuncheng was different. He once had a healthy, whole body, and once had a warm, harmonious family. Every day after losing them was a day of tasting life’s bitterness.

“Your grandma’s personality may be a bit cold, but she’s a good person,” Ye Yuncheng said. “No one can give you too much. She couldn’t protect you, so you had to become strong on your own.”

Fang Zhuo knew that. Aside from love, the old lady had given her everything she could.

Ye Yuncheng recalled, “I dropped out in my second year of high school. Later, someone introduced me to a job as a substitute teacher at a primary school. Even though it wasn’t a formal post, I did earn a bit of money.”

Fang Zhuo didn’t expect he had once been a teacher and asked with fascination, “Why didn’t you keep doing it later?”

“My health wasn’t good. I caused them quite a bit of trouble, and later the school didn’t need more teachers,” Ye Yuncheng said, his expression somewhat dazed. “Everyone has times when they’re in a slump…”

A person living like a walking corpse may even find other people’s concern to be excessive, their days just an endless cycle between sunrise and sunset.

This man, whose life had etched wrinkles on his face, first took a deep breath, then exhaled long and slow, and finally said words that had weighed on him for a long time with calmness: “I just felt too tired. Being alive didn’t feel meaningful.”

After saying it, many scenes floated before his eyes—those long, insignificant moments of the past. It was as if that heavy, burdened self of long ago was finally released, returning to the starting point of everything, back when he still had his family.

Ye Yuncheng held Fang Zhuo’s hand and looked at her intently. All the burning wetness in his eyes was hidden behind his half-closed gaze.

After a long moment, he let out a laugh. In his gentle voice, there was a bit more strength.

“From now on, I’ll go look for a job, you’ll go to class, and we’ll each go do what we’re supposed to do, live a normal life. I believe things will get better soon.”

The palm held by him was damp. Fang Zhuo lifted her gaze and nodded hard.

·

The day before the end of the holiday, Yan Lei arrived at school around noon. He had arranged to play basketball with classmates from other classes and didn’t return to the classroom until evening. At that time, Fang Zhuo had also returned.

With damp hair, Yan Lei sat down. He still had the fresh scent of body wash on him. He smiled at her and turned slightly, saying, “Classmate Fang Zhuo, long time no see. May I ask you a question?”

Fang Zhuo was good at jumping to answers. She skipped a step and replied directly, “I had a great time, everything was fine, I didn’t get lost. The chicken is still alive, living in a more than twenty-square-meter luxurious big villa. To express his thanks, my uncle asked me to bring you a gift.”

Yan Lei was rendered speechless by her sudden words and forgot what he originally wanted to ask. Fang Zhuo had already pulled out a familiar lunchbox from her backpack and placed it on the desk.

“Sweet glutinous rice balls, red bean paste filling. Because too many mung beans were steamed, a few mung bean cakes were made along the way. There was no mold, so the appearance might not be great, but the taste is okay.”

Yan Lei couldn’t catch his breath for a moment and could only say, “Thanks.”

Fang Zhuo asked kindly, “Anything else you wanted to ask?”

Yan Lei’s brain had been emptied. He shook his head in self-doubt.

“All right.” Fang Zhuo hung her bag back on the chair and suddenly remembered something. “I have a question.”

To be honest, Yan Lei didn’t really want her to ask. That’s why, up to now, he still hadn’t remembered what he originally wanted to say—it was suffocating.

Fang Zhuo volunteered, “Do you like five-nut mooncakes?”

Yan Lei hesitated. “They’re okay.”

“That’s great!” Fang Zhuo once again reached into her backpack, pulled out a small paper bag, and said enthusiastically, “This is for you too!”

Seeing her face full of relief at getting rid of a burden, Yan Lei couldn’t help but laugh. “You guys are all biased against five-nut mooncakes. They’re actually pretty tasty.”

Fang Zhuo nodded half-heartedly and urged repeatedly, “Eat it, eat more. If you like it, I can share with you again next year.”

Yan Lei paused while unwrapping the package. Raising his eyes slightly with meaning, as if catching something important, he said with a deeper tone, “Next year?”

Fang Zhuo thought for a bit and added, “If I perform exceptionally and get into the same university as you.”

Yan Lei laughed, the kind of mischievous smile that belonged to a teenager. His eyes sparkled, and as if joking, he said, “Then, for the sake of this precious friendship, as desk mates, I must urge you to study hard.”

“I’ve always been working very hard at studying,” Fang Zhuo replied perfunctorily, then gave a cheer. “You eat now. May our friendship last forever.”

After dealing with the five-nut mooncake, Fang Zhuo felt physically and mentally relaxed. She stood up, grabbed the perforated plastic bottle from the shelf in the back, filled it with water, and routinely watered the plants.

Wei Xi and a few dormmates came over through the rows of desks, surrounding her in the middle.

Fang Zhuo felt like she was being surrounded so tightly that not even air could pass through. Four hands rested on her shoulders, leaning forward heavily.

Wei Xi whispered in her ear, “Fang Zhuo, what’s your relationship with Yan Lei now?”

Fang Zhuo said, “Desk mate relationship.”

Wei Xi said suspiciously, “I thought you two were dating early.”

“No such thing.” Fang Zhuo didn’t understand why they were asking this, thought for a moment, and asked in surprise, “Do you guys also like five-nut mooncakes?”

“Not the same thing at all!” Wei Xi said seriously. “But you really do seem to look down on five-nut mooncakes!”

Dorm leader: “??” Are your thought processes still human?!

A girl next to them scratched her head in frustration. “It’s because we think Yan Lei is being double-standard. When other girls give him stuff, he usually doesn’t accept it.”

She leaned closer to Fang Zhuo and whispered, “Didn’t Yan Lei tell you he likes eating cake? Someone overheard. A girl from the dorm next door gave him a cake, but he gave it to a teacher instead and acted like nothing happened. It happened right before the holiday—you remember that, right?”

Fang Zhuo’s ears felt itchy. She subconsciously turned her head and didn’t answer, just looked at them with a puzzled expression.

The few of them were stared at until they felt guilty, gradually beginning to wonder if they were just overthinking it and misinterpreting the pure friendships of student days.

Thinking carefully, it was true. Fang Zhuo’s stubborn and serious nature was hard to dislike, and her thin, frail appearance made people want to help her.

Wei Xi muttered, “Thinking about it like this, maybe Yan Lei isn’t that much of a straight guy? Maybe he did it on purpose before?”

Perhaps the five pairs of staring eyes were too intense—Yan Lei, who was eating the mooncake, seemed to sense something. He turned to look at them. The girls, however, all turned away at the same time and dispersed awkwardly.

After watering the plants, Fang Zhuo returned to her seat. Yan Lei still remembered the strange and complicated looks, and asked, “What were you talking about just now? Were you looking at me?”

Fang Zhuo felt that the question sounded kind of like a compliment, so she truthfully answered, “They said you’re not that straight.”

Yan Lei: “??” How is he not straight?

Seeing that he didn’t take it well, Fang Zhuo added, “They meant you’re considerate and understanding. Nothing else.”

But Yan Lei’s expression grew darker.

It’s bad enough being treated like a bro. Is she treating him like a bestie^[1]闺蜜 – Woman’s close female friend now?

Fang Zhuo didn’t get it and decided not to speak anymore.

·

Right after the holidays, the students were all in low spirits. Plus, with the upcoming sports meet and National Day holiday, the teachers didn’t push them too hard either. It was treated as a small break—just a few worksheets to be handed in before the weekend, and the rest of the time was left for them to rehearse for the sports meet opening ceremony.

Yan Lei was good at sports and had a nice appearance, so he was pushed forward to be the team leader. All he had to do was hold a sign and walk casually, and he’d still be the flashiest one.

Fang Zhuo was just muddling along in the middle of the team. Fortunately, their class never had much creativity—once they got to the reviewing stand, they’d just switch formation and shout a couple slogans.

This half-hearted routine had been used for three years and would continue to be passed down to the next generation of salted fish juniors.

Aside from Fang Zhuo, the rest of the students were full of enthusiasm for the sports meet.  

For example, Zhao Jiayou had been loudly declaring in class for several days that he was going to break the school record.

Yan Lei listened to him making bold statements at the front of the room, then leaned over onto the desk, slowly sliding over to Fang Zhuo. He bumped her with his shoulder and asked, “Can you come watch my match?”

Fang Zhuo was working on practice problems, her mind a little slow, and after four or five seconds she replied with a single, “Hm?”

Yan Lei asked again, “Do you think guys who do high jump are cool?”

Fang Zhuo stopped writing and thought of those movements that looked kind of like zombie jumps, and replied a bit reluctantly, “Don’t know.”

Yan Lei was unwilling to give up. “What about guys who play basketball?”

Fang Zhuo was about to say she didn’t know again, opened her mouth, and changed it to, “They’re alright. I like Slam Dunk.”

Yan Lei perked up. “You like watching Slam Dunk too?”

“I also like Naruto,” Fang Zhuo said regretfully. “But what I watched the most was Shugo Chara!”

“Huh?” Yan Lei tilted his head cooperatively and asked curiously, “Why?”

Fang Zhuo said, “Whatever they picked, I watched.”

Yan Lei took a moment to reflect and finally understood. “The song request channel^[2]Reference to early 2000s TV programming where viewers could request songs/videos, often playing anime openings.? That’s really a relic of the past.”

Fang Zhuo didn’t really agree with the way he put it. “That’s not a relic of the past, that was the joy of my childhood.”

Two minutes later, Yan Lei finally realized that his question still hadn’t been answered.  

Every time he talked to Fang Zhuo, he listened too intently and ended up getting weirdly sidetracked.

Last time, he’d wanted to ask why she didn’t reply to his message.  

This time, he wanted to ask her to come watch his match.  

And both times, the result was the same.

Yan Lei was a little dissatisfied. He wrote the question clearly on a piece of paper, ready to pass it to her. Holding the slip between two fingers, he glanced at his deskmate deeply immersed in her sea of practice problems… and decided to forget it.

A melon forcibly twisted off the vine may be sweet, but it won’t ever be “really fragrant.”^[3]From: 强扭的瓜不甜( idiom): Lit – if you have to use force to break a melon off the vine, it won’t taste sweet (because it’s only when the melon is ripe that it can be removed … Continue reading

Author’s Note:

Zhuo Zhuo: A man’s heart is like a needle at the bottom of the sea. [sigh]

Lie Lie: Fighting for bamboo shoots^[4]多损 – Referring to someone being mean or sarcastic. To describe someone being extremely mean or bitterly sarcastic, you can say he/she is “fighting against pandas for bamboo shoots … Continue reading na!!