Chapter 11

Fang Zhuo felt like she had turned into a frog soaking in warm water, her limbs and brain all numbed by the rising temperature.

When Ye Yuncheng saw the flashlight, he knew it was her. He was a little excited but still restrained himself and said, “I thought you weren’t coming. It wasn’t even dark yet and I already headed back. Why’d you come so late?”

Fang Zhuo didn’t respond. She stood up and adjusted the straps of her backpack, shining the flashlight down onto the ground.

Ye Yuncheng said, “There’s only one streetlamp around here, and it’s been broken for months. Can you see okay? Walking alone on this road must’ve been scary, right?”

Fang Zhuo swallowed. After a couple of seconds, she said, “No.”

Ye Yuncheng walked closer and reached out to take her flashlight. He accidentally brushed her fingertips and found they were ice-cold. He realized she had probably been so scared she was spaced out, but she was still forcing herself to act fine. He didn’t call her out on it.

He hung the flashlight on the cart’s handle and said gently, “Your classmate called me, asking if you made it home. That’s how I found out you were coming. That’s on me—I didn’t confirm the time with you. I messed up.”

Fang Zhuo’s eyes shifted, her body slowly easing out of numbness. “Ah… Yan Lei?”

Ye Yuncheng heard the sound of chicks chirping and crouched down to look. He laughed. “You bought chicks? Planning to raise chickens in the yard?”

Fang Zhuo nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s nice. They can lay eggs too.” Ye Yuncheng lifted the box with one hand, then said, “Here, give me your bag. I’ll put it on the cart.”

Fang Zhuo took off her backpack. In that instant, the weight lifted from her back, and she felt completely relaxed.

Ye Yuncheng tried to lift it and found it stuffed full of books—easily over ten jin. There was also a twenty-jin bag of rice.

He gently squeezed Fang Zhuo’s arm. He couldn’t understand how she’d carried everything with her slender arms. Feeling sorry for her, he said, “Next time you come, let me know what time. I’ll wait for you at the village entrance.”

Fang Zhuo said, “It’s fine.”

“Don’t be polite with me, it’s not a big walk.” Ye Yuncheng hesitated, then said, “I want to pick you up. We’re family, after all.”

After a pause, Fang Zhuo responded in a low voice, “Mm.”

Once Ye Yuncheng came to get her, the road ahead didn’t feel as long anymore.

Fang Zhuo dragged the cart and followed behind him. It felt like she had only spaced out for a moment before they were already in front of the house.

Ye Yuncheng turned on the main light, illuminating the room.

Unlike the previous mess and worn-out look, the place had been thoroughly cleaned. The curtains had been replaced with a light blue set. The tables and chairs had been rearranged. With the high-wattage white bulbs, the place looked bright, clean, and neat.

The musty, damp smell in the air was gone, replaced by a faint fragrance of osmanthus. Fang Zhuo suspected Ye Yuncheng had sprayed perfume.

That realization startled her. She peeked at the man a couple of times and finally noticed he’d deliberately worn a sharp new outfit today, had trimmed his overgrown hair, and no longer looked scruffy like before. He also looked much healthier.

It was practically like he was a different person.

The light lit up both their faces. Ye Yuncheng noticed Fang Zhuo subtly checking him out and felt a little awkward. Leaning on his crutch, he went over and lifted the gauze cover on the table. He said, “Have you had dinner? You must be hungry now, right? I didn’t know what you liked, so I just made a few simple dishes. Go wash your hands—I’ll heat the food for you.”

The dishes on the table had already gone cold, but they were plated nicely and still complete. It was clear he had been waiting for her and hadn’t eaten yet. When he saw her still standing there, he gently pushed her and urged, “Go on, the bathroom’s over there.”

Fang Zhuo didn’t have a watch and didn’t know what time it was, but she guessed it must be past 8 p.m.

Every little detail carried a kind of completely unfamiliar sensation that turned into little waves, crashing repeatedly in her chest. Like a coarse, uneven beach soaked by the tide—once the water came, all the rough patterns were wiped away, gradually becoming smooth.

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Reflected half a meter away was her own dazed and helpless face. Her movements and thoughts had both become sluggish. It wasn’t until she blinked hard that she managed to link the person in the mirror to herself.

She bent down and washed her face with water, holding her breath, letting the cold liquid carry away the heat burning on her skin.

Ye Yuncheng’s care was different from Fang Yiming’s—delicate, gentle, and sincere.

He poured out too much care, as if wanting to hand it all over to her at once. But Fang Zhuo’s container could only hold two liang. Anything more, she had no experience with. She was afraid of spilling it and also afraid of owing someone’s affection—afraid of failing to live up to his kindness.

Her lungs began to feel full, swelling. Fang Zhuo turned off the tap, lifted her head, and took a deep breath. She looked again at the person in the mirror.

That’s when she remembered she’d forgotten to bring a towel. She grabbed a tissue from the side to wipe her face dry. Then she combed back the damp strands of hair at her temples and smoothed them neatly to the sides.

When she sluggishly walked out of the bathroom, the dishes on the table were already beginning to steam.

Ye Yuncheng had set the bowls and chopsticks, half-leaning against the wall as he served her soup.

“Tofu and carp soup, good for your brain. Look at you, you’re too skinny.” Ye Yuncheng’s hands were a little shaky, so when he spoke, he didn’t dare get distracted. “Even if you don’t like it, you should still drink a little. Look at you, you’re too skinny.”

Fang Zhuo took the small bowl and placed it on the table. She was about to help him up, but he had already taken a step back with the support of his crutch and pulled out a chair to sit down.

The two of them seemed to have their mouths sealed; even more words that reached the throat all turned into single syllables like “Sit,” “Eat,” “Come,” and so on.

The meal was very hearty. There was fish, meat, and vegetables, and a small cake in the middle.

The cake had an odd, misshapen appearance, probably because there wasn’t a suitable mold. The cream was also applied messily. But the effort of the maker could be seen.

Fang Zhuo wanted to say, “Don’t spend so much money,” but seeing the expectant look on Ye Yuncheng’s face, she held back and only asked, “Did you make the cake yourself?”

“Yes. But it’s steamed, not baked.” Ye Yuncheng pulled up the corners of his mouth and smiled sheepishly. “Although it doesn’t look good, it tastes okay. I’ve made some before and sent it to the school. They all said it was alright.”

Fang Zhuo glanced toward the neatly arranged books in the corner and asked again, “Do you like reading?”

“I read. Anyway, I don’t have much else to do. But it’s all a mess of stuff—whatever books people give me, I read.” Ye Yuncheng said, “Some books aren’t that good.”

Fang Zhuo took a sip of soup and praised, “It’s very tasty.”

“That’s good.”

Ye Yuncheng held his bowl and stared at her with a bright smile.

His gaze was calm, his eyes distant. The light brown pupils gradually shimmered with a faint gleam.

Fang Zhuo avoided his gaze and buried her head in her meal.

She was indeed very hungry, and since the two couldn’t find anything to talk about for the moment, she didn’t know how else to cover up the awkwardness besides eating. Before she realized it, she had eaten too much.

After this quiet dinner, Fang Zhuo got up to clean the table. Ye Yuncheng tried to stop her but didn’t succeed, so he just let her go.

When Fang Zhuo returned from washing the dishes, Ye Yuncheng had already made the bed for her in the bedroom inside.

He was bent over, supporting himself on the head of the bed with one hand, straightening the bed sheets with an unnatural posture. He turned his head and said to Fang Zhuo, “You’ll stay in this room tonight. The quilt is new; it’s been aired out. The light switch is this string—just pull it.”

Fang Zhuo nodded in response and turned around to look around.

The room was filled with many old wooden furnishings. Against the wall was a dark-colored dressing table, along with some small decorative items—things that girls would like.

There was only Ye Yuncheng in the house, and he was male, so it didn’t seem like he had such interests. Then this room…

Ye Yuncheng saw her expression and guessed her thoughts. He forced a smile and explained, “This was your mother’s room. Her things have always been kept like this.”

Fang Zhuo’s eyelashes fluttered unnaturally, then she widened her eyes to look at him.

But Ye Yuncheng didn’t seem inclined to go into detail. He awkwardly changed the subject, saying, “The water for the bathroom should be ready. Go take a shower first. I’m in the room next door—if anything happens, just call out and I’ll hear you.”

After finishing his instructions, he picked up the crutch beside him, ready to leave. Just as he stepped out the door, the phone in his pocket rang. He took it out and looked at it, then turned back and handed it to Fang Zhuo, saying, “Do you want to let your classmate know? He seems pretty worried about you.”

Fang Zhuo took it, and on the lit screen saw a message asking about her.

This phone was a smartphone too, but the outer glass of the screen was already cracked, and its response wasn’t very sensitive.

Fang Zhuo saved the unfamiliar number with a name and sent a message to the other party.

Fang Zhuo: I’m home.

The reply came almost instantly.

Yan Lei: I’m home too.

Fang Zhuo thought for a moment and sent another: I finished eating.

Yan Lei: I finished eating too.

It was Fang Zhuo’s first time texting someone. After wracking her brain, she painstakingly squeezed out a message.

Fang Zhuo: Oh. Then goodnight.

Yan Lei: …

She heard a text message cost ten cents, and Yan Lei had already spent thirty cents—six messages, and she hadn’t even replied to each one.

Fang Zhuo thought to herself, making friends is too expensive.

Ye Yuncheng had been watching her expression. Seeing her put down the phone, he asked with great interest, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Fang Zhuo froze for a moment, then exclaimed in shock, “How could that be? He’s my deskmate.”

“Oh.” Ye Yuncheng said, “You have a really good relationship with your classmate.”

The words sounded a bit off, but Fang Zhuo didn’t think too deeply and simply followed up with a compliment, “He’s a nice person. He sent me to the station today.”

Ye Yuncheng had been about to leave but paused when he heard that, and asked strangely, “Didn’t he go home?”

Fang Zhuo said uncertainly, “Maybe there’s no one at his home?”

Ye Yuncheng: “He’s spending the Mid-Autumn Festival alone at home?”

“Yeah.”

Ye Yuncheng paused and asked, “Then why didn’t you invite him over?”

Fang Zhuo furrowed her brows, glanced sideways, and after a moment of deep thought, she drew in a breath and showed a rather shocked expression.

She had never invited classmates to her home before, because she never had any say in the house, and her relationships with classmates hadn’t been good either—so this kind of thing was never even within the scope of her consideration.

Now that she thought back to all of Yan Lei’s previous behavior and hints, the short-circuited wire in her mind finally connected.

Did he want to spend the holiday with her?

Ye Yuncheng asked, “What’s wrong?”

The lightbulb above Fang Zhuo’s head only lit up for one second before going out.

Forget it.  

No space. No extra quilt.  

Ye Yuncheng would have to tidy up another room too.

She shook her head and said, “It’s nothing.”

Author’s Note:

Lei Lei: Is this reasonable?