It felt like every time Fang Chi let his guard down, Sun Wenqu’s childish unreasonable side popped out again, snatching Chief Huang, throwing food if not served, barging in to eat, and now… was he implying he might just stay the night?
“What do you mean?” Fang Chi swallowed the persimmon, wiped his mouth, and looked at him.
“I mean, maybe tonight I’ll just sleep here,” Sun Wenqu said, eyes still closed, tugging at the little quilt and gently rocking in the chair. “It’s nice. When I’m old, I’ll rent a place in your village…”
“Grandpa!” Fang Chi suddenly shouted.
Startled, Sun Wenqu’s eyes flew open. “What, I’m a senior now?”
Fang Chi hurried toward the kitchen in the front yard: “Speed it up! Two dishes less, we’ll miss the bus if it’s late…”
“Pfft.” Sun Wenqu couldn’t help laughing. “Look at you! Singing the song of the liberated serf now, huh?”
Grandpa and Grandma weren’t worried at all about him missing the bus and staying over. They insisted on finishing every dish they’d planned.
Like yesterday, it was all ordinary farmhouse cooking, but with several more varieties.
Sun Wenqu ate with gusto. Farm cooking didn’t rely on MSG, chicken powder, fish essence, bear-bone extract, or any such things, just the natural flavor of the ingredients.
Seeing their grandson, and that he rarely brings a friend, made the old couple very happy. They kept talking and piling food into Sun Wenqu’s bowl.
By the end, Sun Wenqu felt even sitting in a chair was an advanced maneuver. He could only stand.
Fang Chi cleared the table, then came out to the yard, squinting at him silently for a long while.
“Didn’t I miss the three o’clock bus?” Sun Wenqu leaned against the firewood stack, one hand on his stomach, grinning brightly.
“No problem.” Fang Chi smiled. “There are buses at four and five, once an hour until seven.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Sun Wenqu frowned. “Would it kill you if I stayed the night?”
“No,” Fang Chi frowned back. “I’m just afraid you’ll torment me again.”
“How could I torment you?” Sun Wenqu asked.
“Look.” Fang Chi pointed at the house. “Old place, not enough rooms…”
“I’ll sleep on the sofa, or the recliner in the yard,” Sun Wenqu answered right away.
“The bedding’s all old…”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Bathing’s a hassle, you have to heat the water yourself…”
“No problem.”
“At night, if your leg itches and you scratch, you might grab a big cockroach, ”
“If I’m asleep, I won’t scratch.”
Fang Chi fell silent.
So did Sun Wenqu. He leaned against the gate, staring outside. The dog came to squat by his leg, and he didn’t notice.
“You…” Fang Chi stood there, sighed. “If you really don’t want to go back…”
Sun Wenqu suddenly turned, came close, and whispered in his ear: “Just teasing you.”
“Huh?” Fang Chi froze.
“The four o’clock bus, we can still catch it?” Sun Wenqu stretched and headed to the back yard.
“Yes.” Fang Chi watched his back.
“Come on, take me.” Sun Wenqu said.
Fang Chi didn’t move. Sun Wenqu didn’t look at him either, just grabbed his bag, said goodbye to the grandparents, and walked out toward the village entrance.
“Why aren’t you seeing Wenqu off? Does he even know where the bus stop is?” Grandma slapped Fang Chi’s arm.
“Oh.” Fang Chi snapped out of it, rushed after him.
Sun Wenqu’s leg was hurt, not badly, but he’d been slow all day. Now, though, he walked fast, almost flying. By the time Fang Chi caught up, he was nearly at the village path.
“Wait up,” Fang Chi ran to his side. “I’ll borrow a tricycle to take you.”
“Is it far?” Sun Wenqu glanced at him.
“Beyond the village there’s still a stretch, and the road’s rough,” Fang Chi said. “I’ll drive you.”
“Alright.” Sun Wenqu dropped his bag to the ground, sat down on a stone slab.
“Wait here.” Fang Chi turned back, planning to borrow Uncle Zhang’s trike. But knowing Sun Wenqu’s temper, he wasn’t sure if he’d actually stay put. “Don’t go wandering, or getting lost will be trouble.”
Sun Wenqu grunted in reply, not looking at him.
Fang Chi walked a few steps, then turned back. Sun Wenqu was still sitting there, staring at the ground, lost in thought.
He ran off to Uncle Zhang’s place.
Truthfully, seeing Sun Wenqu like that left him at a loss.
Having him spend the night wasn’t a big deal. If it were anyone else, Fang Chi wouldn’t hesitate.
But the only extra bed was his own single in his room, just thinking about that made his whole body feel wrong.
Sun Wenqu listened to Fang Chi’s footsteps fade, then looked that way, leaned back against the wall.
The spot was near the village entrance, and in the afternoon plenty of villagers passed by, heading to the big tree to chat. Each one gave him a look.
He felt stifled.
A few minutes later, a flock of chickens came by and stopped to stare at him too.
He clicked his tongue, lifted a leg, and they scattered. Before he could put his foot down, a dog showed up.
“…Seriously?” Sun Wenqu was speechless, until he realized it was Fang Chi’s dog. “Xiaozi?”
The dog sat down in front of him when he called.
“What, your brother sent you to babysit me too?” Sun Wenqu asked.
The dog tilted its head.
“Does your older brother think my self-care ability is in the negatives?” Sun Wenqu said.
The dog looked away. He sighed and stopped talking, staring at its back instead.
A few minutes later Fang Chi came back, without a vehicle.
“No ride?” Sun Wenqu looked at him.
“You…” Fang Chi stood in front of him, hesitating. “Are you…”
“What?” Sun Wenqu checked his phone. “If we don’t go now, it’s the five o’clock bus, right?”
“Do you not want to go home?” Fang Chi asked.
“Who said that?” Sun Wenqu replied. “I’m dying to, whoosh.”
“My grandpa’s place isn’t great for staying overnight,” Fang Chi squatted. “But if you really don’t want to go, and don’t mind roughing it…”
“Whoosh,” Sun Wenqu repeated.
Fang Chi sighed, stood, picked up his bag, nudged the dog’s rear. “Come on.”
Sun Wenqu stayed seated. “Whoosh…”
“Hurry up!” Fang Chi shouted back.
Sun Wenqu finally stood, dragged along behind. “Bathing, heat the water myself?”
“No, we’ve got a heater,” Fang Chi said.
“I’ll sleep on the sofa?”
“You’ll sleep in my bed.”
“And you?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got somewhere.”
“Oh.” Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue. “I thought you’d squeeze in with me.”
Fang Chi whipped around, frowning hard. “Do you want the five o’clock bus?”
“No need to freak out. I’m not interested in you. And even if I were…” Sun Wenqu squinted. “It wouldn’t be hard to find someone else similar enough.”
Fang Chi said nothing, just turned and strode off.
“Hey, hey,” Sun Wenqu grabbed his arm. “Come on, can’t you take a joke?”
“Do you even know how to joke?” Fang Chi asked.
“Fine, I’ll stop,” Sun Wenqu sighed. “You’re no fun.”
“I don’t take nonsense fun.” Fang Chi gave him a look and sped up.
Grandpa and Grandma were delighted to see him back again. When they heard he was staying the night, Grandma immediately hopped up to tidy Fang Chi’s room.
“It’s just us two old folks usually,” Grandpa said, smiling. “We’re already overjoyed when Little Chi comes home, now with another young one, even better. Tonight we’ll make something nice for you.”
“How about hotpot,” Sun Wenqu offered, a little embarrassed they’d cooked two big meals already. “Boil some mushrooms, fungi, it’s delicious.”
“Good, good,” Grandpa nodded with a grin. “We’ll add some fish too.”
“Still thinking about mushrooms,” Fang Chi said.
Sun Wenqu looked at him and smiled.
Grandpa had set a net in the river to catch fish, said there should be something in it now, and was going to fetch it. At once, Sun Wenqu perked up: “I’ll go too.”
“It’s quite far,” Fang Chi said on the side. “You’d better not.”
“How far can it be!” Grandpa said. “A young man can’t walk half an hour?”
“This young man’s leg is injured,” Fang Chi said. “Yesterday he went tumbling into a ditch up by Eagle Head.”
“Not serious, I don’t even feel it now.” Sun Wenqu stamped his leg.
Seeing his expression of absolute determination, Fang Chi didn’t bother arguing more. He found medicine and disinfected the wound again. The cut wasn’t deep; after a night it already looked much better than yesterday.
“Go on then,” Fang Chi said, then pointed at him and told Grandpa, “Keep an eye on him. He’s spoiled, back in the day he’d be the young master of a landlord’s family. Don’t let him fall again.”
The landlord’s young master, looking in good spirits, went off with Grandpa to fetch the fish.
Fang Chi stayed in the yard, repairing some of the old chairs. Many legs were loose, wobbly when sat on. Grandma always complained the store-bought chairs weren’t as sturdy as the ones Dad used to make.
“The money you brought back last time, I’ve put it in the bank,” Grandma said as she sat beside him picking vegetables. “Don’t keep giving us money. Your grandpa and I don’t need it. Besides, aren’t exams coming? You’ll be busy studying, right?”
“Mm, once I’m back I’ll have to review.” Fang Chi nodded.
“Doesn’t matter if you pass or not. Look at Old Chen’s grandson, went to college, still came back to farm,” Grandma patted his arm. “As long as you’re healthy, that’s enough.”
“He came back to start a business,” Fang Chi laughed. “Not the same.”
“Still farming, what’s the difference,” Grandma said. “Healthy, no illness, that’s all that counts.”
“Mm,” Fang Chi laughed. “I’m plenty healthy.”
After fixing the chairs and chatting with Grandma for a while, the landlord’s young master returned, holding two fish, one looked at least two or three jin.
“These aren’t from the river, are they?” Fang Chi stared, stunned. “That big?”
“No idea, but they were in the net when we pulled it up,” Sun Wenqu grinned. “Your grandpa said probably escaped from upstream. I’m a lucky star.”
“Upstream?” Fang Chi looked at Grandpa coming behind. “Isn’t that Old Jiang’s fish pond?”
“Should be.” Grandpa chuckled too.
“Better not let him find out. If he does, you two will be fighting again.” Fang Chi clicked his tongue.
“Fighting?” Sun Wenqu blinked, looking at Grandpa. “Two old men fighting?”
“Mm. Real fighting,” Fang Chi said.
“He can’t beat me.” Grandpa straightened his back, took the fish from Sun Wenqu’s hand, and went into the kitchen.
Dinner was hotpot, much simpler. Grandpa set a stove indoors, put a pot on top, tossed in all sorts of ingredients, and that was it.
It was a bit cool at night, perfect for this kind of meal. Sitting on little stools around the stove, it felt almost like squatting to eat. Quite fun.
But Sun Wenqu felt a little worried, glancing up at the ceiling: “This smoke won’t…”
Then he saw the ceiling already blackened with soot and left the thought unsaid.
“No such fuss,” Grandma said. “Just whitewash it later.”
Grandpa came over with a Coke bottle, set it on the floor: “Drink a bit?”
“What kind of liquor is this?” Sun Wenqu picked it up, opened it, sniffed. “This must be homemade?”
“Wild berry wine,” Grandpa said, fetching four big teacups. “Try it, not bad.”
“Alright,” Sun Wenqu immediately held out a cup. “Never had wild berry wine before.”
“We don’t have stomach medicine here,” Fang Chi warned.
“My stomach only hurts when I mix drinks,” Sun Wenqu said. “Just one cup’s fine.”
Fang Chi said no more. Grandpa poured him half a cup. “Not sure if you’ll like the taste.”
“I’ll manage. I spent three years in the mountains, had plenty of rustic brews,” Sun Wenqu said, then took a gulp. As soon as it went down, his face twisted up. “Ah this wine…”
“What’s wrong?” Fang Chi asked.
“Too wrong,” Sun Wenqu hurriedly grabbed a mushroom from the pot and stuffed it in his mouth. “This strength has nothing to do with berries!”
Grandpa and Grandma laughed until they couldn’t stop, piling more food into his bowl.
It was truly the strangest wine Sun Wenqu had ever drunk. Other than the name, it had nothing to do with berries. In color and taste it was pure farmhouse liquor, one sip and it blasted straight to the head.
Finishing just half a cup, warmth spread through his body. Even the aches from his fall yesterday vanished.
“This wine’s fierce.” Sun Wenqu gave Grandpa a thumbs-up.
“Have some more?” Grandpa reached for the bottle.
“No, no, no…” Sun Wenqu waved frantically, set his cup aside. “No more, or I’ll be facedown before finishing dinner.”
They ate and chatted idly. Grandpa and Grandma weren’t very talkative, but clearly happy. Most of what they said was urging him to eat more.
Then the dog barked in the yard. The gate creaked open, and someone entered: “Old man, that jar you wanted last time, I brought one over.”
“Uncle Zhang!” Fang Chi leapt up and called out. “We’re eating, come join us?”
“Already ate,” a middle-aged man walked in holding a jar. Seeing Sun Wenqu, he smiled: “Got a guest?”
“Fang Chi’s classmate. Name’s Sun Shuiqu,” Grandma said with a smile. “Not really a guest now, he’s familiar.”
“It’s Wen,” Sun Wenqu said, holding back laughter.
“Ask what?” Grandma looked at him.
“Nothing,” Fang Chi patted her shoulder.
Grandpa chatted with Uncle Zhang for a bit. After he left, Fang Chi leaned toward Grandma: “Grandma, Sun Shuiqu isn’t my classmate.”
“Payback, huh,” Sun Wenqu laughed from the side.
“Not classmates?” Grandma blinked, turned to stare at Sun Wenqu. “You’re not his classmate?”
“No,” Sun Wenqu said, a smile at his lips. “I’m his…”
“You watch your mouth,” Fang Chi cut in at once, staring at him.
“Friend,” Sun Wenqu grinned. “Grandma, I’m his friend, not classmate. Do I look eighteen?”
“You do,” Grandma nodded. “Even look sillier than him.”
After dinner, Fang Chi cleaned up in the kitchen. Grandpa lit his pipe, leaned back in his chair, took a deep drag. “This life is sweet.”
“Contentment brings happiness,” Fang Chi smiled.
“Here,” Grandpa passed the pipe to Fang Chi.
Sun Wenqu looked on in surprise.
“Don’t smoke.” Fang Chi shook his head. “I’m quitting. You should cut down too.”
“You didn’t…” Sun Wenqu started, remembering Fang Chi smoking up in the mountains, but stopped when Fang Chi shot him a glare. He just smirked instead.
“I’m an old man, doesn’t matter anymore,” Grandpa said slowly, puffing. “These years I’ve aged. Maybe in two more, I won’t even beat Old Jiang in a fight.”
“Stop fighting already,” Fang Chi frowned. “You two should apply for a world record, the longest ongoing rivalry. Fighting your whole lives.”
“Can’t stand him. Always sneaking looks at your grandma,” Grandpa tapped the table with his pipe.
“Shameless!” Grandma shouted. “What nonsense in front of kids? You’re wrinkled like a book already, and still talking about looks. He can barely see what he’s looking at.”
Sun Wenqu nearly collapsed laughing. He’d never heard such conversation at home. His own family never joked like this, rarely even saw elders. Even in peaceful years, his parents lived with a polite, distant formality.
“See, you made the child laugh,” Grandpa said.
“He’s laughing at me?” Grandma glared.
“I really am old,” Grandpa sighed. “Before, when she was mad, I’d play a tune to coax her. Now my hands shake.”
“I’d love to hear it. Haven’t heard in ages,” Fang Chi smiled. “You’re not shaky, you’re just out of practice and embarrassed.”
Grandpa only smiled.
“Play? What instrument?” Sun Wenqu asked.
“Erhu,” Grandma said. “Young people don’t care for it. Only that brat humors his grandpa, saying he likes it.”
“Erhu?” Sun Wenqu smiled. “I actually like it too.”
“Don’t flatter,” Grandma gave him a light slap.
But Fang Chi wasn’t surprised. Judging by Wenqu’s calligraphy and painting, it wasn’t odd if he liked erhu.
“I mean it,” Sun Wenqu said, smiling. “Grandpa, your erhu’s not broken, is it? Since I’ve troubled you two these days, why don’t I play a piece?”
“You can? Great!” Grandpa lit up. “Little Chi, go get my erhu.”
“No way,” Fang Chi looked at him in disbelief. “You serious?”
“Cut the nonsense,” Sun Wenqu said. “While I’ve still got liquid courage.”
