Fang Chi plunged into the woods.
This forest wasn’t much to him, but even locals usually wouldn’t go in.
The slope was steep, and beneath the thick carpet of fallen leaves and broken branches, there were often several tiers of hidden ledges, completely covered by decay. One careless step and you could drop.
Falling wasn’t always a big deal, but for someone like Sun Wenqu, pampered since childhood, never lived outdoors, it could turn into a serious problem.
Following the direction Li Bowen had said they went, Fang Chi walked slowly, tracking the trampled marks they’d left on the ground.
It was clear the two had gone one after the other. If they’d kept going this way, there should be a ledge ahead.
Fang Chi frowned, quickened his pace. The forest was old, every step meant climbing over thick roots or fallen limbs.
He couldn’t quite figure it out. Firewood was plentiful along the edge. Why go in this deep? In here it was damp, hardly any dry wood at all.
And another thing he didn’t get, Sun Wenqu and Li Bowen weren’t close. Why would someone like Sun Wenqu, lazy as a coiled snake, follow him in here?
The woods were quiet, light dimming fast. In the mountains, once the sun began to sink, night came much quicker than on level ground.
Fang Chi strained his ears. If Sun Wenqu had the whistle he’d given him, if he wasn’t a fool, or unconscious, by now he should’ve blown it.
A short way further, about as far as Sun Wenqu and Li Bowen could have gone, Fang Chi stopped. Suddenly he heard the faintest whistle.
Too faint, he couldn’t tell the direction. When he tried to listen closer, the sound was gone.
He guessed it was ahead, leapt over the roots at a run, then pulled out his own whistle and blew.
This time a reply came from front-left. Still thin, but Fang Chi realized, it wasn’t faint because it was far, but because it had been blown weakly.
Either Sun Wenqu was too feeble to blow, or he was hurt.
“Sun Wenqu!” Fang Chi shouted, scanning the ground. Soon he spotted a patch of crushed leaves near the slope’s edge. He tested it with his foot. “Are you down there?”
As he pulled away vines and leaves, a whistle rose from below, and faintly, Sun Wenqu’s voice: “I’m down here.”
“You hurt?” Fang Chi asked, tossing his pack down and pulling out a coil of rope. He tied one end fast to a thick root.
“No,” Sun Wenqu answered, voice weak.
“Then I’ll throw you the rope, you climb up?” Fang Chi relaxed a little, though he still hooked the first aid kit at his waist.
“That won’t do,” Sun Wenqu said. “I’m a man with a signed contract.”
“…Then just play down there.” Fang Chi was speechless.
“Fine by me,” Sun Wenqu said. “Been playing half the day already.”
Fang Chi said nothing more. He checked the knot, cleared away the debris, and slid down the rope.
Sun Wenqu must’ve slipped off. The place was a watercourse, washed out during rainy season, not too steep, thankfully.
Sliding down five, six meters, Fang Chi spotted the flash of red from his jacket, torn in places from the fall.
Two or three meters further, he saw him half-sitting against a pile of leaves.
“You said you weren’t hurt!” Fang Chi spotted the gash on his shin at once, dropped down beside him.
“If I said I was, you’d panic and tumble down after me. Then neither of us would get back up,” Sun Wenqu said.
“I… wouldn’t,” Fang Chi muttered, already frowning as he opened the kit. “Besides the cut, anywhere else?”
“No.” Sun Wenqu sighed. “Just this, and it hurts like h*ll.”
Fang Chi cleaned the wound quickly, applied medicine, and wrapped it. “Can you put weight on it?”
“Don’t know.” Sun Wenqu shifted, winced. “Clothes first, though. Freezing.”
Fang Chi scrambled up, tugged down his jacket. “Cold? That whistle was so faint I almost missed it.”
“Hey, I managed some noise at least,” Sun Wenqu gritted his teeth as he dressed. “I ache all over from the fall. Blowing that d*mn whistle pulled at everything.”
“Think you can climb?” Fang Chi tugged the rope.
Sun Wenqu just stared at him, leaning on a stick.
After a moment, Fang Chi sighed. “You can’t, huh.”
“Even unhurt I couldn’t,” Sun Wenqu said.
“I’ll carry you.” Fang Chi grabbed the rope, scaled back up in seconds.
“What, wait.” Sun Wenqu gaped. “You mean actually carry me, or I just imagine it?”
“I’ve got a harness.” Fang Chi sounded helpless.
Sun Wenqu watched him climb, so easy, hand on root, foot on rock, up in a blink. He squinted.
Soon Fang Chi was back, strapping him into the harness. Sun Wenqu asked, “On your club’s photo wall, that big imposing one, are you in it?”
“Yeah, one or two shots. From competitions.”
“Is one a back view? Hanging off rock?”
“Mm.” Fang Chi glanced at him. “Why?”
“Your legs look long in that one.” Sun Wenqu chuckled, eyes trailing down.
Fang Chi couldn’t tell if he was just used to his nonsense, or if urgency muted his irritation. He looked down at his legs. “Yeah. That angle makes them look long.”
Sun Wenqu blinked, surprised, then laughed. “So honest.”
“Enough.” Fang Chi tightened the harness, pulled it behind him. “Don’t move. Bend your leg a little.”
“You really think you can haul me up? You know how much I weigh?”
Fang Chi said nothing, wrapped the rope at his waist, braced his legs, and Sun Wenqu felt his feet lift from the ground.
The climb didn’t seem hard for him. Twice he paused to adjust the route, but in a few minutes they were back where Sun Wenqu had fallen.
“Around 140,” Fang Chi said, undoing the straps.
“What?” Sun Wenqu leaned on him.
“You,” Fang Chi steadied him against a trunk, then crouched to gather his gear.
“More than that.” Sun Wenqu smiled faintly. “Your pack’s like a treasure chest, has everything.”
“Can’t help it. With you, it all comes in handy.” Fang Chi slung it by the tree, then crouched. “Up.”
“You’re leaving the pack?” Sun Wenqu climbed onto his back.
“Then get down.” Fang Chi stood, carrying him out.
“Thanks,” Sun Wenqu murmured against his shoulder. The trail was rough, even Fang Chi’s steps wavered a little with the load. “Didn’t think I’d be this unlucky today.”
“Why’d you two come in here?” Fang Chi frowned. “Didn’t I say not to? This isn’t unlucky, it’s lucky. If you’d kept sliding, it wouldn’t just be torn clothes and a scratch.”
“You’ve got lung capacity to scold while carrying me.” Sun Wenqu chuckled, then fell silent, until at last he muttered, “I wanted to find some mushrooms.”
“What mushrooms? The red ones you mentioned?”
“…Yeah.” Sun Wenqu sounded embarrassed. A grown man, traipsing through the woods like some housewife for mushrooms, and came back injured and empty-handed.
By the time they neared the edge, a group came rushing. Ma Liang, seeing Sun Wenqu carried, stumbled over in a panic: “What happened? Where’s the injury?”
“Fast mouth you’ve got,” Sun Wenqu grinned. “Just a cut. Banged my back a bit…”
“Did you fall? Why didn’t you call out?” Li Bowen nearly tripped running over. “If something happened to you, I’d be ruined!”
Sun Wenqu just smiled silently.
“Catch him, catch him!” Luo Peng shouted.
They lifted him off Fang Chi’s back, half-dragging, half-carrying him out of the forest.
Fang Chi ducked back for his pack.
Besides the cut on his leg, Sun Wenqu was fine, just a few bruises that would bloom tomorrow.
Once they’d checked him over, confirmed nothing worse, they returned to camp. The fire was lit, emergency lamps glowing, bright and busy.
“Is the leg bad?” Li Bowen crouched by him.
“Not bad. Just a scratch,” Sun Wenqu said.
“I really…” Li Bowen’s brows knotted. He trailed off, face heavy.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ma Liang gave him a sideways look. “Your repentance’s nice and loud.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Liangzi?” Li Bowen bristled.
“Means you got the message.” Ma Liang’s tone was flat.
“You…” Li Bowen started up.
“Enough,” Sun Wenqu cut in. “Wanna fight? Tomorrow we’ll go down with three invalids rolling together?”
Ma Liang stayed quiet. Li Bowen glared, then shut his mouth.
Fang Chi, after a word with the leader, came back with an energy drink and two anti-inflammatories for Sun Wenqu. Then he turned to Li Bowen: “That mushroom, show me the photo.”
“That was just… coincidence,” Li Bowen muttered, embarrassed.
“Show me,” Fang Chi said, holding out his hand.
Li Bowen hesitated, then pulled out his phone, found the photo, and handed it to Fang Chi:
“When we were kids, my dad was just teasing us… You ever seen a mushroom like this?”
“This taken here?” Fang Chi glanced at the photo and asked.
“Mm. But not around this side.” Li Bowen pointed over the mountain. “It was on that hiking trail going up from the east end of the village.”
“Oh. Haven’t seen it.” Fang Chi gave a short reply and said nothing more.
Li Bowen lingered for a moment. Since no one spoke, he sighed, patted Sun Wenqu’s shoulder, and got up to help Zhao He roast meat.
“Tha–thank you,” Ma Liang said to Fang Chi. “Nephew.”
“Fish over there’s done.” Fang Chi tilted his chin. “You want some?”
“I’ll get it, grab a bit.” Ma Liang stood up. “Your dad loves fish.”
Only after Ma Liang walked off did Fang Chi turn his head: “That kind of mushroom doesn’t grow in these mountains.”
“Huh?” Sun Wenqu blinked.
“I grew up here, all through these hills,” Fang Chi looked at him. “Never once saw that mushroom.”
“They say it grows under pine needles…” Sun Wenqu said.
“If I say I haven’t seen it, then it doesn’t exist. When I was little, I could even dig up pottery shards from the riverbed, no way some mushroom popped up without me knowing.” Fang Chi’s voice was quiet. “Besides, in the photo those are white pine needles. We don’t have those. All we’ve got here are oil pines. Got it?”
Sun Wenqu stayed silent.
“Use your head.” Fang Chi stood and walked off. “Low EQ’s one thing. At least keep your IQ up.”
It took Sun Wenqu a while to come back to his senses. Then he shouted at Fang Chi’s back: “Hey! Kid’s pretty full of himself now!”
By day, twenty people seemed plenty, even noisy. But in the deep forest at night, it suddenly felt pitifully few.
After dinner, everyone, without even discussing it, got up and moved their tents closer together. Only bunched up did they feel safe.
“Are there wolves here at night?” someone asked nervously.
“No.” Fang Chi said.
“Then maybe foxes, or small predators?” Zhang Lin hunched in her shawl by the fire.
“Don’t worry.” Fang Chi smiled. “They’re scared of people. Won’t come near.”
“Then what if, say, a delicate young lady with no boyfriend beside her,” Zhang Lin lifted her fingers in a dainty orchid pose, “needs the toilet at night?”
“Call another lady who does have a boyfriend,” Fang Chi said without looking up, busy burying sweet potatoes in a little pit by the fire. “That’ll do.”
“Smart!” Everyone burst out laughing.
The mountain night was very still. The chirp of small insects, the occasional low call of some unknown bird, the whisper of wind through treetops, all gave the dark a strange kind of calm.
Look up, and you’d see the whole sky crowded with silver stars.
Because they’d been at it all day, people who had meant to sit by the warm fire, play some cards, sip a little, chat a while, didn’t last long before sleepiness took them.
Sun Wenqu was tired too. As he was about to head to his tent, he noticed Fang Chi still sitting, head down, playing some offline game on his phone.
“You’re not sleeping?” he whispered.
“In a bit,” Fang Chi said. “If you need the toilet at night, call me.”
“Oh, holding a grudge, huh.” Sun Wenqu grinned.
“Hm?” Fang Chi didn’t catch it.
“I watched you once, you have to watch me back once?” Sun Wenqu laughed so hard he couldn’t stop.
Fang Chi looked at him. “Then hop there yourself.”
“No problem.” Sun Wenqu crawled into his tent, wriggled into his sleeping bag, still laughing. “I don’t mind if you watch.”
Fang Chi ignored him, eyes back on the game.
Sun Wenqu had been drowsy, but lying inside he couldn’t sleep. Something just felt off. Finally he dug out mouthwash from his bag and crawled back out.
Fang Chi was still gaming. Seeing him gargle, he clicked his tongue. “Pretty fancy.”
“Want some?” Sun Wenqu shook the bottle at him.
“Nope.” Fang Chi pulled a gum bottle from his pocket and shook it. “I use this.”
Sun Wenqu ducked back in. Two seconds later, he stuck his head out again, wrapped in the bag: “Hey, I just realized something.”
Fang Chi looked over.
“You don’t have a tent, do you?” Sun Wenqu glanced around. Almost everyone had already gone inside, and none were left empty.
“No,” Fang Chi said. “Don’t need one.”
“Then where do you sleep?” Sun Wenqu was surprised.
“In a sleeping bag.” Fang Chi said. “Carrying a tent’s too heavy.”
“…Oh.” Sun Wenqu slipped back in.
Still sleepless, he lifted the little flap window and gazed at that square of night sky framed like a painting.
Outside, only Fang Chi remained. From the crack, he saw him add a bit of wood to the fire, then spread out a moisture mat, crawl into his sleeping bag, and stretch out comfortably.
Sun Wenqu chuckled. A kid raised wild in the mountains, different from anyone he knew. Hard to name what it was, but often surprising.
Before long, quiet didn’t last.
Snoring. Smacking lips. Teeth grinding. Even muttered dream-talk. For someone already a light sleeper, Sun Wenqu found rest impossible.
After lying stunned a while, he realized he kind of needed to pee.
He wriggled out of the bag, out of the tent, shoes on, hesitating, to call Fang Chi or just pick a spot and go.
His leg wound was fine now, hardly hurt. What bothered him more were the bruises elsewhere.
He tried a few steps. Barely three meters, when the sleeping bag next to him suddenly sat up.
“Whoa, you scared me!” The forest three meters out was pitch black and eerie enough, then a cocoon popped upright beside him, and gooseflesh rose.
“Told you to call me.” Fang Chi unzipped himself, came over, grabbed his arm, slung it over his shoulder. “If you fall again, I really won’t be able to get you down tomorrow.”
“It’s fine, my leg doesn’t hurt now.” Sun Wenqu smiled. “Just… gives me the creeps.”
Fang Chi pulled out a flashlight, bit it between his teeth, then looped an arm around his waist. Half-drag, half-lift, he got him behind a big rock.
“Here.” Fang Chi mumbled around the light. Once Sun Wenqu was steady, he set it on the rock. “Make it quick.”
Sun Wenqu just stood there. Fang Chi looked at him: “Go.”
“You’re not watching?” Sun Wenqu said.
“Are you sick?” Fang Chi kept his voice low.
“If you’re not watching, can you at least stand farther away?” Sun Wenqu grinned. “I feel awkward with the live audio feed.”
“Unbelievable.” Fang Chi stepped aside. “Didn’t think you even had a shy bone.”
Sun Wenqu didn’t answer. For once in his life, he peed with complete concentration, half afraid something would leap from the dark behind him.
When he was done, he glanced over. Fang Chi, back to him, was gazing up at the night sky, looking almost entranced.
Leaning against the rock, Sun Wenqu didn’t hurry him. Somehow, though Fang Chi was still just a kid in his eyes, there was a steadiness about him, just seeing him there made him stop worrying about what might come out of the dark.
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