The night passed without incident. No small predators, no sudden lunges out of the dark. The only reason Sun Wenqu knew that for sure was because the group’s dreadful sleeping habits kept him up most of the night anyway.
Toward dawn, he finally dozed, only to be jolted awake by shrieks and cheers from people watching the sunrise. The echoes rang through the mountains, making his eyelids twitch.
He skipped the sunrise party. By the time he got up, everyone was back at camp fixing breakfast. Fang Chi handed him a tin of ginseng lozenges.
“Tastes like chewing wood.” Sun Wenqu popped one in. “Does this even work?”
“No idea. I’ve never eaten it,” Fang Chi said. “I just keep it for the newbies who keel over after two hours of walking.”
“Get lost.” Sun Wenqu shot him a look. “If anyone else said that to me, I’d have blown up.”
“You don’t dare with me.” Fang Chi sipped his milk slowly.
“Oh yeah? Sure of yourself?” Sun Wenqu grinned.
“Even counting everyone here,” Fang Chi looked straight at him, “if you really can’t walk, I’m the only one who can get you down.”
Sun Wenqu didn’t argue, because it was true. The others looked strong enough, some even experienced, but if it came to hauling him out of here, no one else could manage it.
“Wenqu,” Luo Peng squatted by the fire, tending some pot. “How’s the leg?”
“Pretty good, no real pain.” Sun Wenqu stretched his leg. “Body’s a little sore. Guess from rolling.”
“Move around, it’ll loosen up,” Luo Peng said. “We’ve still got to hike over the ridge and down today. Can you handle it?”
“No problem.” Sun Wenqu yawned.
“Want something to drink?” Zhang Lin was stirring at the fire. “We just made….”
“Coffee,” Sun Wenqu said.
“Dream on!” Zhang Lin yelped. “You still half-asleep?”
“What is there then? Lemme see.” Sun Wenqu walked over, peered into the pots, and came up at a loss for words.
Two soups: one sweet, one savory. Sweet was corn-and-egg. Savory was sausage-and-egg. Both thrown together from last night’s leftovers.
He was used to needing soup in the morning, but with such unpredictable flavors, he decided to skip it.
From his bag he dug out bread and crackers, sat on a rock, and chewed.
Halfway through, a rich sweet smell drifted over, suddenly making his stomach growl.
He looked around. Everyone seemed to be drinking the leftover soups. Ma Liang, rosy-nosed with contentment, ate with gusto, sip of soup, bite of bread.
Not satisfied, Sun Wenqu wandered closer. And right when he reached Fang Chi, he found the source of that heavenly smell: a small thermos at his feet.
“This is…” Sun Wenqu reached for it.
Fang Chi snatched it up fast. “Sharp nose. You could hunt with it.”
“Hunt?” Sun Wenqu stared. Then, seeing the lid in Fang Chi’s hand being used as a cup, caught a glimpse of the contents. At once he knew, the kid was drinking hot chocolate!
“When villagers go hunting, they bring dogs to fetch game,” Fang Chi said, unhurried, sipping. “Those are called hunting dogs. Noses sharp. My dog’s one of those.”
“Give me a cup.” Sun Wenqu’s sweet tooth was strongest in the mornings, and he ignored the jab.
“You don’t want their soup?” Fang Chi took another sip.
“Cut it out,” Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue. “Don’t make me wrestle a kid for food.”
“Go get a cup then.” Fang Chi sighed. “Don’t tell me you plan to drink from the thermos.”
When Sun Wenqu turned to get a cup, Fang Chi muttered behind him: “Keep it low-key.”
Low-key was the only way, otherwise there’d be a swarm. Sun Wenqu brought back two cups, and in a low voice said: “Pour one for Uncle Liang too.”
Fang Chi poured out two from the thermos. Sun Wenqu took one to Ma Liang, then sat back down next to Fang Chi. Eating his bread again now, the taste was completely different, it was almost a shiver of happiness.
“Can’t believe you had this stuff,” Sun Wenqu sighed.
“I always bring it.” Fang Chi shook the thermos. “Brew some in the morning, recharges energy and gives me that sense of ‘see, I really am the most professional.’”
Sun Wenqu laughed for a good while at that: “Kid.”
Packing up camp to head out was probably the most irritating job of the whole trip. No matter how you packed, it never went back the way it was, things were fewer, but somehow the pack seemed smaller too.
Fang Chi and the leader bagged up all the camp trash, there’d be bins along the trail. When Fang Chi came back, he saw Sun Wenqu giving his own pack a hard kick while Ma Liang doubled over laughing beside him.
Fang Chi sighed, walked over and asked: “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Sun Wenqu flexed his arms. “I’m ready to go. This pack’s useless.”
“See that?” Ma Liang said, laughing to Fang Chi. “That’s called waste, total wastrel.”
Fang Chi glanced at the pack and guessed the reason: after a sleeping bag was opened, it never folded back small enough to fit.
He went over, took everything out, repacked carefully, pressed it tight, and managed to get it all back in.
Since yesterday’s food was gone, the pack was lighter. Fang Chi hefted it, tested the weight, then pulled some things out and stuffed them into his own bag.
“Done.” He tossed the pack down at Sun Wenqu’s feet.
“Filial,” Ma Liang gave him a thumbs-up.
Sun Wenqu looked at him but said nothing, just put the pack back on.
The road ahead was easier than the climb yesterday, lighter packs, smoother trail.
The wound on Sun Wenqu’s leg barely bothered him, though his body felt sore and tight, he wasn’t sure if it was from the fall or from hours of climbing.
“Too heavy? Shift some to me,” Li Bowen had been walking beside him the whole time.
“No need,” Sun Wenqu said.
“…Wenqu,” Li Bowen hesitated, lowered his voice. “Are you mad at me? I really was too careless, didn’t notice… sigh…”
Sun Wenqu said nothing, just kept his head down walking.
“Wenqu,” Li Bowen continued awkwardly, “after we get back, ”
“This really your first time here?” Sun Wenqu suddenly asked.
“Hm? Ah…” Li Bowen froze. “Yeah, first time.”
“Then how’d you know the sunset view from camp looked like some giant cinema screen?” Sun Wenqu pressed.
“I said that?” Li Bowen looked bewildered. Sun Wenqu ignored him. After thinking for a while, Li Bowen laughed. “Oh, guess I did say that. Must’ve been from photos, other people’s trips. I saw them when I was planning, looked amazing… You didn’t get up for the sunrise either…”
“There’ll be other chances.” Sun Wenqu smiled.
Before long they reached the summit. The scenery shifted again, the mist in the valley like gauze, drifting with the wind, sometimes gathering, sometimes scattering, revealing and hiding the farmlands and cottages below like slides fading in and out.
Everyone took photos at the top, then started down.
“This way down is used a lot, so the path’s better,” Fang Chi instructed, then glanced at Zhao He. “But downhill’s easier to slip. Plant one foot firm before lifting the other.”
“Oh.” Zhao He quickly nodded.
The descent really was easier: no slick rocks, no tangled roots, just a simple mountain path. Occasionally a villager would ride past on a motorbike. But with so much downhill, one slip on gravel meant flat on your back.
Sun Wenqu managed okay, stumbled twice but Fang Chi caught him. Others weren’t so lucky, taking full spills.
When Ma Liang fell, a passing villager on a motorbike laughed so hard he almost toppled off himself.
By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, it was noon. Everyone was exhausted from the day and night out. No one stopped to eat in the village, they all just wanted to drive back to the city.
As Sun Wenqu loaded gear into the car with the others, a sudden hollowness hit him. All that noise, exertion, slips and laughter, finished in a blink. Back home it’d be the same old flat, empty days again.
Lifeless.
He yawned, leaned against the car, and watched Fang Chi talking with the leader.
After a few words, the leader nodded, patted Fang Chi’s shoulder. Fang Chi turned and started walking toward the village.
“Where’s he going?” Sun Wenqu jerked his chin that way and asked the leader.
“Home,” the leader chuckled. “He’s not riding back with us.”
“Not going to the city?” Sun Wenqu was surprised. After a pause he pulled out his phone and dialed Fang Chi’s number.
Fang Chi had only gone a dozen steps, Sun Wenqu could still hear his ringtone. Fang Chi took out his phone, glanced at it, frowned back at Sun Wenqu.
“Answer it!” Sun Wenqu shouted.
“What for,” Fang Chi said helplessly, “what is it?”
“You’re not going back to the city?” Sun Wenqu asked, still holding the phone, though Fang Chi’s was still ringing.
“No.” Fang Chi hung up and walked back. “I’m staying at my grandpa’s tonight.”
“Then who’s gonna cook for me?” Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue. “All banged up, go home and still have to make my own food? And laundry piled up too…”
“Maybe eat with Liangzi… Uncle first,” Fang Chi sighed. “I haven’t seen my grandpa in ages, only took this guide job because it came here.”
“You think Liangzi’s as free as me?” Sun Wenqu frowned, annoyed. “He’s got a shop to run, a wife, two days apart, of course they’ll want time.”
“Then order takeout,” Fang Chi suggested. “Didn’t you still have a menu?”
“No.” Sun Wenqu’s refusal was flat.
“Then what do you expect? Even if it’s a slave contract, I still need time off.” Fang Chi looked at him.
Sun Wenqu seemed ready to blow, but instead, after a pause, just waved a hand: “Fine, go. Be with your grandparents.”
“I’ll bring you some local stuff back,” Fang Chi said.
“You’ve said that twice. Why not just give it now?” Sun Wenqu smiled faintly.
“You can carry it? I’ll bring it tomorrow.” Fang Chi glanced at his leg. “Remember to change the bandage when you get back, don’t need to wrap it again.”
Sun Wenqu didn’t reply, only waved again.
Fang Chi turned away, heading toward home. He’d told his grandparents he’d be back for lunch, they must be waiting.
But as he reached the edge of the village, he thought of Sun Wenqu’s look just now, and couldn’t help turning back.
The group’s gear was mostly stowed. Sun Wenqu leaned half against the hood, staring off blankly.
For some reason, Fang Chi suddenly recalled his words: how lonely must that be.
He stopped walking.
Sun Wenqu was hard to pin down. At first glance, he seemed a mess, careless, temper flaring without warning, bored, even spending 100,000 yuan just for a chance to drag someone along…
A spoiled young master, lazy as a snake’s egg, money never an issue, only time, dragging on too empty, too dull. Mindset years behind his age.
Yet sometimes he’d throw you off: that piece of calligraphy, that chibi sketch of Chief Huang and his cat, and now, this trace of loneliness, outside the bustle.
Fang Chi pulled out his phone and dialed.
Sun Wenqu lowered his head, glanced at the screen, and answered without looking up: “I’m not picky about food. Just like yesterday, simple farmhouse cooking, that’s perfect.”
Fang Chi froze, then said after a long pause: “You just knew I was calling to invite you home to eat?”
“What else would you call for?” Sun Wenqu grinned. “Thought I looked especially pitiful, huh?”
“You…” Fang Chi was speechless.
“Doesn’t it feel great sparring lines with me?” Sun Wenqu teased.
“You remember the way, come yourself,” Fang Chi turned and kept walking home. “But after, you’ll have to take the bus back.”
“Tie up your dog!” Sun Wenqu quickly added.
“Mm.” Fang Chi hung up, glanced back once more, Sun Wenqu was no longer slumped lonely at the car, but chatting with Ma Liang.
Putting on an act?
Fang Chi clicked his tongue. Didn’t buy it.
When Sun Wenqu stepped into the yard, no one was around. Just as he was about to call out, Xiaozi shot out from the side and plopped down right in front of him.
“Fang Chi!” he yelped.
“Shoo!” Grandma rushed out of the kitchen. “That’s your older brother’s guest!”
“Hello, Grandma, I’m here freeloading again.” Sun Wenqu smiled.
“Don’t be polite, you could come every day,” Grandma laughed. “Grandpa’s out picking vegetables, sit a bit, food’ll be ready soon.”
“No rush, I’m not that hungry.” Sun Wenqu said.
“Go out back, then. River’s just behind, don’t city folk love that? Stand there, look at the water, the hills, sigh a little,” Grandma waved her spatula. “Go on, that little rascal’s back there too.”
Inside, the house was like any village home, cement floor, lime walls, simple furnishings, all old.
The back yard too: farm tools, odds and ends piled up. A polished wooden recliner padded with a thick mat and quilt, likely where Grandpa and Grandma sunned themselves.
Fang Chi wasn’t in the yard, but at the river.
Sun Wenqu strolled down and saw him scrubbing his shoes.
“So diligent,” Sun Wenqu plopped down by the bank.
“Normally wouldn’t need to be,” Fang Chi glanced over. “But thanks to your spectacular fall, I got filthy hauling you up.”
“Appreciate it.” Sun Wenqu smiled, then looked at his shoes. “They’re old, dirty’s no big deal.”
“Not like that.” Fang Chi glanced at his shoes, mud and moss smeared all over. He couldn’t help it, took his rag and wiped at them twice. “If these were mine, and they ended up like that, I’d cry.”
“Really?” Sun Wenqu laughed, then after a pause asked: “How much allowance do you get each month?”
“You mean from home?” Fang Chi asked.
“Of course. What else, unless you and Fang Ying scammed it somewhere.” Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue.
“None.” Fang Chi said.
“None?” Sun Wenqu narrowed his eyes. Truth be told, Fang Chi’s clothes, gear, even his headphones weren’t cheap. “Then with Fang Ying, how much did you two scam a month?”
Fang Chi frowned, looked at him, but said nothing.
“Alright, alright, so you never scammed,” Sun Wenqu clucked. “But you mean all your expenses are on you?”
“Mm.” Fang Chi lowered his head, kept scrubbing his shoes. “Except tuition, everything else I handle myself.”
“Are you not on good terms with your parents?” Sun Wenqu turned his head to look at him.
“No, it’s fine,” Fang Chi said. “Just not as much to talk about as with my grandparents.”
“Then why… don’t they give you money?” Sun Wenqu couldn’t understand.
“Because I already have it,” Fang Chi said.
Sun Wenqu opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. That answer sounded perfectly reasonable, nothing to argue with.
“Not even your grandparents? They dote on you so much.” Sun Wenqu still couldn’t quite get it.
“They don’t have spare money either,” Fang Chi smiled. “And besides, they think once the school collects tuition, that covers everything, meals, housing. We wear uniforms every day, so no expenses.”
Sun Wenqu looked at him, and after a long pause finally said: “Truly a model youth of self-reliance.”
“Come on.” Fang Chi finished cleaning his shoes, put them on, and stood. “Xiaozi’s here to call us for lunch.”
“Huh?” Sun Wenqu turned and saw the dog bounding toward him. Startled, he scrambled to his feet. “D*mn, if that hit me I’d have gone straight into the river.”
Fang Chi called the dog back and teased it as they walked.
Sun Wenqu trailed behind slowly. The midday sun was warm, making him a little drowsy. He yawned, watching the boy and dog ahead of him.
Fang Chi surprised him, just a teenager, yet supporting his own food, clothing, and daily needs, and managing just fine.
“Hey, when did your family stop giving you pocket money?” Sun Wenqu asked again.
“High school,” Fang Chi looked back. “Why are you so stuck on this?”
“Just curious.” Sun Wenqu smiled.
“You…” Fang Chi hesitated for a long time before carefully voicing his doubt. “Have you never worked before?”
“Not exactly.” The question soured Sun Wenqu’s mood, the smile left his face. He kept his head down as he walked back into the yard, muttering only, “Pretty much.”
Lunch wasn’t ready yet. Probably because Fang Chi had come back and even brought a friend, the grandparents were preparing a lot of dishes, a whole table’s worth.
Sun Wenqu couldn’t help, truthfully had no idea what to do, so he flopped into the recliner in the back yard, pulled a quilt over himself, and closed his eyes, swaying comfortably.
“At this rate, by the time we finish, you’ll only make the three o’clock bus,” Fang Chi said, gnawing on a persimmon. “Any later and…”
“No worries,” Sun Wenqu said, rocking lazily. “Miss today’s, I’ll just catch tomorrow’s.”
Fang Chi choked: “What did you say?”
