In the dead of night, just when he’d been sleeping soundly, Sun Wenqu came barreling down in terror, hand raised, claiming a rat had chewed his finger. If the dog hadn’t barked a few times in the courtyard, Fang Chi would have thought he was still dreaming.
“What happened?” He switched on the light and saw a bead of blood at the tip of Sun Wenqu’s index finger. He froze, then grabbed his hand. “The rat bit you?”
“Yeah!” Sun Wenqu hissed. “Your rat!”
Fang Chi said nothing. He dragged him into the courtyard, pinched his finger hard, squeezing.
Pain shot through Sun Wenqu’s finger, blood gushed from the wound. He sucked in a breath, brow twisted. “D*mn it, the bite didn’t hurt this bad!”
Fang Chi ignored him, kept squeezing, then pulled him to the faucet, rinsed while squeezing, then prepared a basin of soapy water to scrub the wound.
“Is this really necessary?” Sun Wenqu bared his teeth.
“No idea. I once read you have to wash at least fifteen minutes,” Fang Chi glanced at him. “Tomorrow morning, first thing, go get a vaccine.”
“What vaccine?” Sun Wenqu asked.
“Ask the doctor. See if there’s a rabid rat vaccine,” Fang Chi said.
Sun Wenqu laughed, but the pain quickly wiped the smile away. “Done yet? I’m gonna bleed out here.”
After washing, disinfecting with alcohol, and fussing nearly half an hour, Fang Chi finally let go of his finger.
“Man…” Sun Wenqu collapsed on the sofa, cradling his numb hand. “You’re worse than the rat.”
“Go to sleep,” Fang Chi checked his phone. “Only an hour till we have to get up for the first bus.”
“Oh.” Sun Wenqu pulled the little blanket over himself, turned to the wall, closed his eyes.
Fang Chi stood by the sofa, staring for a long time before asking, “You’re sleeping here?”
“Where else? Upstairs, feeding the rat again?” Sun Wenqu mumbled from under the blanket.
“Then I’ll go up.” Fang Chi tried to grab his bedding, but Sun Wenqu had already taken the quilt and pillow. So he turned to head upstairs empty-handed.
“Hey, do you think the rat will come down and bite me?” Sun Wenqu propped his head up.
“You think you’re that tasty?” Fang Chi gave him a look.
“Who knows,” Sun Wenqu inspected his hand. “I feel pretty tender.”
Fang Chi was silent for a moment, then gave a soft whistle. Before Sun Wenqu could react, the dog shoved the door open, wagging his tail, bounding in cheerfully.
“What the h*ll?!” Sun Wenqu nearly jumped.
“Lie down,” Fang Chi pointed at the floor. The dog instantly sprawled by the sofa. Fang Chi looked at Sun Wenqu. “Sleep. Good night.”
Then he went upstairs to his room.
This was the room he’d lived in since childhood. Every time he entered, he felt grounded, everything familiar. He flopped onto the bed. Every piece of furniture, every scratch, even the air itself… smelled sweet?
He lifted his arm, pulled the blanket close, sniffed, then sneezed.
It was Sun Wenqu’s scent, close up, you could smell it. Not perfume, but… coconut milk.
Fang Chi sighed. Nearly thirty years old, and the guy bathed every day in coconut-scented body wash.
He got off the bed, sat at the desk, rummaged through his bag, and pulled out a chemistry test paper.
He was tired, but only an hour remained before wake-up. With his sleeping habits, if he went down now, he’d never get back up. Better not to sleep at all than wrestle with the torment of sleeping vs. not sleeping.
He spread the test out. On the corner of the desk was Sun Wenqu’s drawing: the dog, the grandparents. Big heads, tiny bodies, round and cute. He touched it, thought of Sun Wenqu’s long fingers pressing on the erhu strings.
“I feel pretty tender.”
Fang Chi clicked his tongue, frowned, lowered his head to the test.
Chemistry was such a pain. Every time he opened a test, he felt like going straight to sleep instead.
Grinding through problems, skipping around, he barely filled anything in.
He sighed, slumped over the desk, staring at the doodles, pen in his mouth, tapping the paper.
From outside on the terrace came the faint scrape of a chair. Fang Chi spat out the pen, stood, and peeked through the crack of the door.
Sun Wenqu had wrapped himself in the blanket again, sitting on the chair. The dog lay at his feet.
Fang Chi opened the door, baffled. “Why aren’t you sleeping again?”
“Your beautiful dog,” Sun Wenqu looked back, then pointed at the floor. “Snoring, grinding teeth, smacking his lips like a real man. How can I sleep through that?”
“Really?” Fang Chi thought. “Maybe you’re just a light sleeper.”
“Maybe,” Sun Wenqu said. “Or maybe it depends, light nine times, deep once, all depends on mood…”
Bang! Fang Chi slammed the door shut, sat at his desk again, listening to Sun Wenqu laugh outside for a long while.
Staring at the paper and dazing out, he finally sighed, stood, opened the door again. “If you won’t sleep, at least stay inside. What if you catch a cold?”
“Thanks.” Sun Wenqu shuffled in wrapped in the blanket. The dog scrambled in after, curling under the desk.
Fang Chi shut the door silently. He was out of words.
“Doing homework?” Sun Wenqu leaned over the test.
“Mm.” Fang Chi answered.
“Using a known concentration of sulfuric acid solution to titrate blah blah blah solution, complete the following ionic equations,” Sun Wenqu read softly. “Complete the following ionic equations… you don’t know this one?”
“…What’s ‘blah blah blah’ supposed to be?” Fang Chi asked, helpless.
“Molecular formula, too lazy to say it,” Sun Wenqu said. “Blah plus blah blah plus whatever…”
“If you want to do it, then just do it,” Fang Chi cut him off. “Don’t read it out.”
Sun Wenqu didn’t reply. He grabbed the pen, bent over the desk.
Fang Chi sat on the bed, staring at his back in a daze.
After a while, Sun Wenqu tossed the pen down, stood. “Why am I helping you with homework, anyway?”
“How should I know?” Fang Chi pushed him aside and sat down, noticing he’d actually done a few problems, whether right or wrong, who knew. “You… still remember this stuff?”
“Guessed.” Sun Wenqu flopped on the bed. “You keep going.”
“You were a science student?” Fang Chi turned back.
“Do I look like a liberal arts kid?” Sun Wenqu smiled.
“I thought you must’ve been an arts student.” Fang Chi said.
“You’re too naive,” Sun Wenqu said with a laugh.
“Then what did you major in at university?” Fang Chi asked again, curious.
Sun Wenqu, lying on his arm, turned his head to look at him. “I never went to university.”
“Huh?” Fang Chi froze, then after a while turned back toward the desk. “Oh.”
After that, neither of them spoke again. Fang Chi buried himself in the test paper, while Sun Wenqu lay quietly on the bed, listening to his gradually slowing breathing, he’d probably fallen asleep.
Xiaozi was sleeping peacefully under Fang Chi’s feet too, no teeth-grinding, no snoring, no smacking noises.
Doing test papers was torture. Fang Chi was drowsy and exhausted, and writing made him even more frustrated. He was on the verge of tears without even finishing one paper. When he checked the time, it was already nearly five, time to pack up and get ready to head out. The first shuttle bus was at six.
Originally, he hadn’t planned on catching that one, too early. But he hadn’t expected Sun Wenqu to get bitten by a rat in his sleep. He had to get him back to the city early for a vaccine.
Sun Wenqu was still sleeping heavily, propped against the headboard. Fang Chi hesitated before walking over and giving him a push. “Hey, wake up.”
“…Mm?” Sun Wenqu really was a light sleeper; with just a slight push he gave a hum.
“It’s time. Get up, pack your stuff, we’re going to catch the bus,” Fang Chi said.
“No.” Sun Wenqu opened his eyes and stared at him for a while. “I’m tired.”
“Then just wait here for your rabid-rat disease to flare up.” Fang Chi said that and went downstairs.
When he finished washing up, he saw Sun Wenqu already changed, bag in hand, coming down the stairs, looking thoroughly unwilling.
“Let’s eat breakfast back in the city,” Fang Chi said.
“Can you make some hot chocolate?” Sun Wenqu asked. “Getting up this early, my stomach feels really empty.”
“No more chocolate, it’s all gone,” Fang Chi thought for a second. “There’s still a carton of milk. Want that?”
“That works.” Sun Wenqu nodded and went to wash up.
The two of them packed up, then went out back to say goodbye to the grandparents, already up.
Grandma scrubbed Fang Chi’s face hard a few times. “Oh, my darling eldest grandson is leaving again. Take care of yourself, don’t make us worry.”
“Mm.” Fang Chi nodded.
“You said you wanted Shuiqu to take mountain goods back with you,” Grandpa said, smiling as he carried over a woven sack. “We’ve packed it all up for you.”
“So much!” Sun Wenqu was surprised.
“It’s all things that’ll keep, won’t spoil,” Grandma said. “Eat it slowly, when you finish, tell that little brat to get you more.”
“Thank you, Grandpa, Grandma.” Sun Wenqu hefted the heavy sack.
The old couple walked them all the way to the village entrance before Fang Chi made them go back. That kind of lingering farewell left Sun Wenqu with a vague sadness, but Xiaozi trotted faithfully behind them the whole way.
“We’ve still got a walk ahead,” Fang Chi took the sack from him. “Too early, no village transport out. We’ll have to walk.”
“Walking’s fine, the air’s good,” Sun Wenqu tilted his head back, taking a deep breath, then glanced at Xiaozi. “You’re not sending him back?”
“If I tell him to now, he definitely won’t go,” Fang Chi said, pulling milk out of his pocket for him, then opening a bag of biscuits and feeding Xiaozi two pieces. “Once we get on the bus, he’ll head back on his own.”
“You being gone two days, what’s Chief Huang eating at home?” Sun Wenqu sipped the milk, it was hot, the carton slightly damp, likely warmed in water by Fang Chi. He was moved; sometimes Fang Chi’s attention to detail was surprising.
“Cat food. I set up an automatic feeder,” Fang Chi said.
“Does he know how to use it?” Sun Wenqu chuckled.
“…No,” Fang Chi sighed. “Usually just smacks it over with a paw and fishes food out from the top. But he really likes the cat food you gave me.”
“Why don’t I just convert the salary I pay you at the end of the month into cat food,” Sun Wenqu laughed.
“No. Can’t spoil that little brat,” Fang Chi clicked his tongue, then after a moment turned his head. “You’re actually planning to pay me a salary?”
“Mm. Really pay,” Sun Wenqu nodded.
“No need,” Fang Chi looked a bit embarrassed. “Borrowed so much money, doing some work isn’t… anything.”
“If I really don’t pay you, then that’s a slave contract,” Sun Wenqu hooked his lips, looking at him. “A slave contract, a slave contract, oh, slave contract…”
“Enough already, huh?” Fang Chi glared at him.
“Done,” Sun Wenqu said.
“No salary.” Fang Chi turned his head down and strode quickly ahead.
Xiaozi watched them board the shuttle, then turned back and trotted down the dirt road home.
There weren’t too many people on the early bus. They got two seats together. Sun Wenqu tugged his collar up, leaned against the window, and shut his eyes, pretending to doze.
But for someone who couldn’t sleep soundly in a bed, there was no way he’d sleep on a rattling, bumpy shuttle bus. He just closed his eyes, made a pose, and comforted himself.
Fang Chi, though, was different. He slouched down, head lowering as soon as he sat, and fell asleep within minutes. Less than ten minutes later, his body tipped over, head resting on Sun Wenqu’s shoulder.
“Hey.” Sun Wenqu didn’t move, just cracked an eye at him. “You’ve got a knack for picking beds, huh?”
Fang Chi was clearly exhausted. He slept deeply against him. Sun Wenqu stared for a bit, then reached out and lightly traced a line across his face. He didn’t stir at all.
Sun Wenqu yawned, didn’t bother waking him, and closed his eyes again, feigning sleep.
But feigning sleep was tiring. On his left was Fang Chi, on his right the bus window. Because he’d insisted on staying overnight and ended up bitten by a rat, Fang Chi hadn’t gotten proper rest. He felt pretty guilty about that, so he didn’t push him off, just held out.
It was bearable, except that whenever the bus jolted, Fang Chi’s head wobbled, his hair brushing across Sun Wenqu’s face and neck. That was more torturous than supporting his weight.
Finally, as the bus entered the city, something must have jolted Fang Chi awake. He shivered, then suddenly sat bolt upright, staring blankly at the seat back in front of him. After a long moment he turned his head. “Sorry.”
Sun Wenqu rubbed his shoulder, nearly stiff. “Do you have a timer in your head or something? Wake up right when we arrive?”
“No, just woke up suddenly.” Fang Chi scratched his head, then sneaked a glance at Sun Wenqu’s shoulder.
“No drool,” Sun Wenqu caught his look. “Or else I’d have slapped you off already.”
When the bus reached the terminal, they got off, ready to catch a taxi.
“You go get the shot first,” Fang Chi checked his phone for directions. “The nearest epidemic prevention station’s by our school. Go there.”
“I need to drop stuff off, change clothes, eat,” Sun Wenqu frowned. “At this hour, they’re not even open yet.”
“Don’t tell me you’re skipping it,” Fang Chi eyed him suspiciously.
“I’ll go, I’ll go. Of course I’ll go,” Sun Wenqu said. “I don’t want rabid rat disease either.”
“Then grab a taxi home first,” Fang Chi spotted one on the street. “Take that one.”
“Fang Chi,” Sun Wenqu grinned, “in your eyes, do I really not know how to do anything? Not even hail a cab?”
Fang Chi glanced at him. “Mm, right.”
“Get lost,” Sun Wenqu strode toward the cab. “Hurry up and get to school. Don’t forget to come over this afternoon to cook. And my closet needs clearing out, ”
Before he finished, he turned back and saw Fang Chi practically jogging away. He laughed for a long while.
When the cab was nearly at his complex, Sun Wenqu’s phone rang. He looked down, it was Sun Jiayue.
Not even nine yet. She hadn’t been up this early in maybe ten years.
“What is it?” Sun Wenqu answered.
“Hey, you’re not home, are you?” Sun Jiayue asked.
“…Yeah.” Sun Wenqu paused. “How’d you know?”
“So you really aren’t home.” Sun Jiayue laughed, a full-bellied laugh. “Listen, you’re going to drive Sun Yao insane. She went to block you this morning and didn’t catch you.”
“Big sis went looking for me?” Sun Wenqu was startled.
“She’s probably still there,” Sun Jiayue kept laughing. “Whether you see her or not is up to you. Just don’t tell her I tipped you off.”
“Mm.” Sun Wenqu gave a sound and hung up.
He’d been in a good mood, but the call ruined it instantly.
He looked out the cab window at the commuters, his brow furrowed as he tried to tamp down the gloom.
Sun Yao was their dad’s trusted aide, his confidante. Whether between dad and mom, or dad and him, she always stood on dad’s side.
This older sister, eight years his senior, was like a copy of their father. She looked gentle, but deep down was just as hard, just as rational, just as… unapproachable.
She wouldn’t come find him without a serious reason. And if she came in a way that gave him no chance to avoid her, that meant dad wanted to see him.
Thinking that made Sun Wenqu restless. If not for the big bag and the mountain goods he was lugging, he’d have told the driver to just take him anywhere else.
But knowing Sun Yao, if she didn’t find him, she wouldn’t leave.
The cab stopped outside his building. Sun Wenqu saw her car, her driver waiting inside.
He dragged his bag and sack noisily through the yard into the house.
Sure enough, Sun Yao was sitting on the sofa, sipping tea. Hearing him come in, she turned and smiled. “Back already?”
“Mm. Went hiking with Bowen and them,” Sun Wenqu set his things against the wall.
“Then hurry and clean yourself up,” Sun Yao said.
“No need.” Sun Wenqu stood before her. “What is it?”
“First clean up.” She frowned, giving him a light push. “Covered in dust. We’ll talk after.”
“I’m going out again in a bit,” Sun Wenqu said.
“Just got back and already heading out? You really…” Sun Yao sighed.
“If this is about going back to ceramics, then there’s nothing to talk about,” Sun Wenqu shrugged off his jacket, heading into the bedroom. He came out with clean clothes, changing as he spoke. “I’ve said everything, argued everything, dug up all the dirt there is…”
“Wenqu, your problem isn’t whether you do ceramics, it’s your attitude toward dad,” Sun Yao said, tea in hand as she walked to the living room window.
“My attitude toward him is because of his attitude toward me,” Sun Wenqu said, coming out dressed. “Forget it. I don’t want to run the same lines. Been saying them for years. I can’t even find new words anymore.”
“I really can’t understand why you’re so willful,” Sun Yao looked outside. “Since childhood, you’ve been the one most doted on. Everyone cared for you wholeheartedly. And you? Everything revolves around you, ‘I don’t want to,’ ‘I don’t feel like it,’ ‘I can’t stand it,’ ‘I want this, I want that’…”
“Big sis,” Sun Wenqu cut her off. “Get to the point.”
“Fine.” Sun Yao turned back to him. “You have one month to think seriously about this, your future, your relationship with dad, your relationship with this family.”
Sun Wenqu said nothing.
“If you keep insisting on this path, refusing to bow your head to dad and softening up, if you have to stay this stubborn,” Sun Yao crossed her arms, tapping her toe lightly on the floor, “then you can forget about relying on mom and dad for this apartment or for money.”
He stared at her, still silent.
“Did I make myself clear? Either go home and have a proper talk with dad, or…” Sun Yao’s eyes were just like their father’s, hard and sharp, full of attack. “However much money you’ve got left, that’s all there’ll be. In a month, this apartment will be sold.”
“I got it,” Sun Wenqu said.
