Chapter 10

As the holiday approached—even though it was only three and a half days long—the students still became somewhat restless.

Papers from all subjects had already been handed out. Judging by the workload, there wasn’t much free time left for the students. Fang Zhuo squeezed in time to finish a few sets, afraid that she wouldn’t have time after going to Ye Yuncheng’s house.

As Friday drew closer, Fang Zhuo also became a bit nervous. Mainly because she wasn’t very familiar with Ye Yuncheng. She had left abruptly last time, thinking they wouldn’t meet again. Now she didn’t know what kind of attitude to take.

On the one hand, she felt she shouldn’t waste too much mental energy on things like this. The college entrance exam was approaching. Maybe Ye Yuncheng was just like Fang Yiming, giving her only a bit of perfunctory care. Speaking of anything deep—how could two people who hadn’t spent time together have deep feelings? Besides, they weren’t even the closest in terms of blood relation.

But on the other hand, she couldn’t help that faint itch deep in her heart, imagining Ye Yuncheng as a very, very good person. People who were lonely and similar always couldn’t help but want to draw close—like moths circling the light, even mistaking a cold flame for the blazing sun.

Fang Zhuo took an old plastic water bottle and watered the potted plants by the windowsill, quietly watching the sparkling droplets fall onto the leaves, turning into round water beads sliding down. Her stray thoughts drifted a thousand miles away.

Yan Lie came over, stood next to her like a rock for a while, and said, “So it’s you who waters these flowers.”

Fang Zhuo hadn’t noticed him and was startled, shivering a little. She straightened the bottle and asked, “Who else would it be?”

Yan Lie fiddled with a leaf and said, “I never paid attention. Just knew that more and more potted plants kept showing up in the classroom—thought someone brought them in.”

Most of these potted plants were succulents, planted in repurposed plastic bottles with holes drilled in them. From the first one, they had gradually multiplied into more than a dozen, placed quietly in the corners by some nameless gardener to bask in the sun—and now, they had grown strong and healthy.

Fang Zhuo said, “I picked them up.”

“You can pick up flowers?” Yan Lie teased. “They were planted nicely in the dirt, and you just went ahead and did a good deed and picked them back home, huh?”

Fang Zhuo huffed, “I really did pick them up!”

Yan Lie didn’t know what the difference was between picking wildflowers by the road and picking up wildflowers by the road. But seeing that she cared, he reached out and gave her head a ruffle, pulling his hand back quickly before she could resist, smiling, “Got it, you picked them up.”

Fang Zhuo shook her head.  

That hand of his must be itching real bad.

“Where are you going for Mid-Autumn?” Yan Lie turned around, leaning his back against the windowsill, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “No one’s home at my place. I’m thinking about staying at school.”

Fang Zhuo said, “I’m going home.”

Yan Lie pursed his lips. “To your uncle’s?”

Fang Zhuo: “Mm.”

Yan Lie dragged out a long “Ohhhh…”

That sound made Fang Zhuo involuntarily glance at his face again—she didn’t know what was up with him today.

“You got something to say?”

“Nope.”

Although Yan Lie said that, he still shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away with a look that clearly said he was in a bad mood.

·

On Friday, after finishing the morning classes, the students were allowed to go home. Fang Zhuo didn’t have much to bring, just her homework and practice books.

She slung on her black backpack. Yan Lie was already waiting by the door and said he’d walk her over.

Fang Zhuo told him the decision she had thought through over and over: “Thank you, but today I need to go somewhere else first to buy something.”

Yan Lie asked, “Where to?”

Fang Zhuo: “The food market.”

Yan Lie thought he misheard, “Huh?”

…After all his years of school, he had never seen a classmate go home for a holiday *carrying groceries*.

A familiar melody popped into his head.  

“Chicken in the left hand, duck in the right?^[1]Lyrics from the song 《Hui Niang Jia》about a married woman returning to her parents home.”

“Mm.” Fang Zhuo nodded seriously. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Can I borrow your GPS to check the route again?”

Yan Lie thought she was joking, but when she really stopped at the entrance of the market, he realized he was too young.

The small stall was selling chicks, yellow-orange baby chickens squeezed into a big basket, chirping noisily, looking lively and cute.

Fang Zhuo asked clearly about the price and squatted down to start picking.

“You’re helping out at home?” Yan Lie saw this kind of scene for the first time, asked with interest, “Chicks this small, can they really be raised?”

Fang Zhuo picked one up and held it in her hands, replied, “Yes.”

“What are you looking for? Even raising chickens needs to look at the face?” Yan Lie’s gaze swept over the many fluffy heads, and suddenly spotted the chicken of his dreams, grabbed it and brought it in front of Fang Zhuo’s face, “I think this one’s good. Look, it has so little fluff on its head, already bald at such a young age, how unique!”

Fang Zhuo: “……”

She looked up and gave her deskmate a faint glance, really wanting to pretend not to know this person. The uncle across from them couldn’t hold back his laughter and said, “This one was just plucked bald by another customer. Don’t worry, this chicken isn’t sick.”

Fang Zhuo took it and glanced at it. She really couldn’t connect at all with this ugly little chick, handed it back and said, “I want hens.”

The uncle said regretfully, “None left. Only three or four native chickens left.”

Yan Lie asked, “Roosters don’t work?”

Fang Zhuo: “Hens can lay eggs.”

Yan Lie said, “Roosters can crow.”

“You say that like people don’t have alarm clocks nowadays.” Fang Zhuo said angrily, “Hey Ge, stop messing around!”

Yan Lie froze when she called him that, and really squatted beside her quietly without speaking.

He used his fingertip to stroke the chick’s head, watching it flap its wings trying to escape his palm, but both its chirping and strength were so weak. Only a pair of bean-like black eyes shone brightly, as if trying its hardest to prove its unyielding vitality.

Yan Lie nudged Fang Zhuo again and negotiated gently, “Ge will pay. Can we raise it?”

Fang Zhuo saw he was really persistent and helplessly told him the cruel truth: “This is a broiler. I’ll raise it and then slaughter it for food.”

Yan Lie shuddered.

The uncle fanned the flames on the side: “Other people who buy it will also raise it for meat.”

Yan Lie asked, “Can’t it be a chick mascot?”

Fang Zhuo: “??”

Fang Zhuo felt like her brain was a tangled ball of yarn messed up by a cat. And that cat knew it was being unreasonable, yet still clutched its paws together and looked at her pleadingly with innocent, clear eyes.

Fang Zhuo hesitated internally for a bit, then picked up her small cardboard box and placed the bald-headed chick Yan Lie picked into it.

The boy was delighted and smiled, “Thanks, Zhuo Zhuo.”

Fang Zhuo ended up picking eight in total, thinking she’d buy more native chickens next time when they were available. After picking the chickens, she went to the shop next door and bought a bag of the cheapest rice to feed them.

The two of them carried the items out of the market. Yan Lie tied the rice onto the back seat of his bicycle and pushed it on foot towards the bus stop.

When they got to the stop, he locked the bike to a nearby railing and helped Fang Zhuo carry the rice onto the bus.

Once the door closed, Yan Lie was still standing across from Fang Zhuo, with the ten-kilogram bag of rice at his feet.

Fang Zhuo stared wide-eyed, looking at him face to face.

Yan Lie said as if it were the most natural thing, “How could a girl like you carry something this heavy on foot? I’ve got nothing to do anyway, sending the Buddha to the west—I’ll pull it with you to the transfer stop under the bridge.”

The person was already on the bus, so Fang Zhuo couldn’t really say anything. Besides, she had no doubt that if she said “no need” right now, this person would immediately reply with something like “kicking the donkey after it’s done grinding,” or some other strange accusation.

She held tightly onto the overhead handrail and softly said, “Thanks.”

By the time Fang Zhuo and her little assistant arrived under the bridge, it was already evening.  

Today’s sunset wasn’t vibrant at all. After the sun sank, it only left a layer of grayish-white mist along the horizon. Dark clouds floated above the ink-washed mountains in the distance, like a hasty stroke from a drunken painter.

“You’ll probably get home after dark. Here, take this flashlight.” Yan Lei turned around and rummaged through his bag. “You’re carrying so much. You should call your uncle and have him come pick you up.”

Fang Zhuo shook her head and quickly said, “I can manage. Don’t trouble him.”

Yan Lei frowned slightly but didn’t push. He just stuffed the flashlight into the small pocket of her backpack and said, “I’ll put it here, alright? Be careful. You…”

He wanted to say, “Call me when you get home,” but first, Fang Zhuo didn’t have a phone, and second, their relationship wasn’t quite at that level. So the words stopped halfway. When he glanced up and saw Fang Zhuo still looking at him with that attentive expression, he was about to continue—only to be interrupted by the arrival of a van that pulled up in front of them.

Yan Lei quickly raised his hand to flag it down and reminded her, “Here comes the bus.”

Fang Zhuo got on and took a seat by the window. Through the dusty glass, she met the gaze of the person standing by the roadside.

The young man noticed her gaze, lifted his hand, and waved to her under the dim light.

That handsome, smiling face grew blurrier as the vehicle started moving. Fang Zhuo leaned closer to the window, trying to get a better look. The words “go home early” lingered on her lips for a long time, but even as his figure completely disappeared from sight, she still couldn’t find the chance to say it out loud.

As the vehicle jolted forward, the last glimmer of sunlight was devoured by the night.

Scattered lights swept past outside the window, and the hustle and bustle of the city was completely washed away by the countryside’s tranquility.

The driver called out and stopped the vehicle at the village entrance.

Fang Zhuo carried the box in one arm and reached out with the other to lift the rice bag, clumsily getting everything off the bus.

She’d only been to this village once before, but she remembered the route was very simple: go straight, turn right at the end of a field, then keep going, and you’d basically be there.

It was such a straightforward path, but night and day were two completely different worlds.

On that seemingly endless road, Fang Zhuo felt more and more disoriented as she walked, and eventually had to admit she was lost.

The heavy darkness pressed down like a giant black cloth, covering her vision. That familiar suffocating feeling began to coil in her chest. Even breathing hard couldn’t suppress it. For a moment, she really wanted to turn back.

She wasn’t exactly afraid of the dark, but she was terrified of getting lost at night. Nighttime turned maps into mazes. She hated the repeated wrong turns, the constant retracing of steps—it reminded her of being lost in the mountains as a child, unable to find a way out, as if the world had abandoned her, until morning finally came and she found her way home by following the light.

She made a couple of turns, trying to confirm her direction. The chicks in her arms began chirping as the tilted box disturbed them, their tender voices piercing the silence—bringing the first bit of human warmth into the night and instantly calming Fang Zhuo’s overstimulated mind.

She squatted down and set the box on the ground, then reached into her backpack and took out the flashlight, sweeping the light along both sides of the road and ahead.

She hadn’t seen the rice fields yet, so she figured she hadn’t gone the wrong way.

As the beam scanned across the landscape, a faint cicada chorus in the background gave way to the soft sound of rolling wheels. Then a voice called out from the distance: “Fang Zhuo!”

Fang Zhuo held her breath and waited a moment. Finally, she saw a figure, staggering through the uneven path, slowly approaching her.