A Dog Out of Nowhere Chapter 41

When they returned home, Grandpa had already started boiling dumplings. Everyone in the house was chatting in the living room, while Hu Ying and Fang Hui were arguing in the courtyard.

Fang Chi didn’t listen carefully to the specifics. Anyway Fang Hui was always like this, thinking he had a high level. Whenever he found someone who had a different opinion from him, he had to debate it, otherwise it wouldn’t show how high his level was. Hu Ying usually didn’t confront him directly; if he said one she said two, if he said east she said west, if he talked about national affairs she talked about what pants she would buy tomorrow.

The two of them each talked about their own thing quite passionately. But when Fang Chi entered the courtyard, Hu Ying stopped talking, called out “Brother Little Chi,” and peeked behind him.

“Big Brother Sun,” she smiled and hopped to Sun Wenqu’s side. “Perfect timing, we’re eating dumplings.”

“Mm, I’m hungry.” Sun Wenqu smiled.

“We’re not finished yet,” Fang Hui said from the side. “Just because you’re female you can be unreasonable? Female liberation isn’t…”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” Hu Ying turned her head away.

“Female liberation also can’t be one-size-fits-all, you say…” Fang Hui persisted.

“You two have already reached such a high-level discussion?” Fang Chi laughed as soon as he heard it.

“Ugh it’s so annoying,” Hu Ying whispered with a frown. “I don’t even know how it turned into this. He’s really showing off pretending to be profound.”

“You say…” Fang Hui was about to continue when Sun Wenqu interrupted him.

“On New Year’s Day why argue about principles isn’t it tiring biting people and not letting go does it really show you’re thoughtful and knowledgeable young man with you but with your current level probably no chance oh wow these dumplings are huge today.” Sun Wenqu said all of it extremely fast and then followed Fang Chi into the kitchen.

Fang Hui stood there with his mouth open and no sound. He probably didn’t understand, Sun Wenqu spoke that whole line too fast, switching between Chinese and English with perfect pronunciation and seamless transitions.

Fang Chi laughed for a long time in the kitchen. “What were you saying?”

“Chanting scriptures,” Sun Wenqu smiled.

“Was that Mandarin in the first half?” Fang Chi felt a bit unable to process it.

“…Good heavens. Luckily the college entrance exam Chinese test doesn’t include listening,” Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue and picked up a plate of dumplings. “Is this one to take to the room?”

“Yes.” Fang Chi nodded.

At lunch Fang Hui didn’t talk much, wearing a deep expression of painful sympathy for these hopeless people. Fang Chi felt very happy and ate more than ten extra dumplings.

Today’s filling was chopped by Grandma, basically all meat, his favorite.

“Grandma, you’re biased,” Fang Yun said with a laugh while eating. “In our family only Little Chi likes dumplings that are like big meatballs, right?”

“Who says that? I like them too,” Grandma ate a dumpling. “Tonight I’ll wrap a pound of vegetarian ones just for you. Aren’t you always shouting about wanting to lose weight?”

“Annoying,” Fang Yun leaned against her. “Don’t you think I’ve gotten thinner?”

“You have, so you should eat more meat to make up for it,” Grandma stuffed a dumpling into her mouth with chopsticks. “Eat.”

After the noisy cleanup, there wasn’t much to do until preparing dinner in the evening. Second Aunt started organizing two tables for mahjong. Fang Chi was about to ask Sun Wenqu if he wanted to play, but looked around and didn’t see him.

“Little Chi, coming to the table?” Second Uncle asked.

“I… won’t donate money today,” Fang Chi said with a smile.

Sun Wenqu had probably gone upstairs. Fang Chi also turned and went upstairs.

Sun Wenqu’s room door was open. Fang Chi was hesitating whether to chat a bit or just return to his own room, though staying in the messy room Fang Hui had left behind felt irritating, when he saw Sun Wenqu holding his phone and making a call.

Better go back to his own room then.

Just as he was about to leave, Sun Wenqu waved at him from inside the room. “Come in.”

“You’re on the phone.” Fang Chi scratched his head and went in.

“Liangzi,” Sun Wenqu said. “It’s fine.”

“Oh.” Fang Chi responded, sat at the desk, casually grabbed a senior-year math winter-vacation diamond test paper, planning to squeeze in some problems to comfort himself and see whether he could write out a diamond.

Sun Wenqu leaned against the window, listening; the conversation was about that set of teapots with Liangzi.

Fang Chi didn’t dare listen too closely and put on his headphones. He had already “spied” on Sun Wenqu doing pottery, so he shouldn’t also listen to him and Ma Liang speaking about serious matters.

However, when Sun Wenqu spoke about serious matters without that kind of half-smile on his face, it actually gave off a pretty oppressive feeling, like a kind of pressure that made you immediately sense the gap.

“Nowhere to stay, huh?” After hanging up, Sun Wenqu pulled off his headphones and asked.

“Mm,” Fang Chi lowered his head to look at his book. “There will be a place to stay once they leave on the third.”

“Then where will you sleep these next couple of nights?” Sun Wenqu asked again.

“I…” Fang Chi’s head drooped again. “I’ll squeeze in with my grandpa.”

“Oh,” Sun Wenqu reached out in front of him, pressed his index finger against his head, and lifted it up. “Not afraid of nearsightedness, huh? Licking so hard.”

“Licking is healthier.” Fang Chi sat up straight.

“You write then.” Sun Wenqu turned around and, with a hand gesture, took off his clothes.

Fang Chi froze for a moment, stunned. Before he could react, Sun Wenqu had kicked off his pants and jumped onto the bed, and Fang Chi coughed over his diamond-shaped test papers.

“What’s wrong?” Sun Wenqu peeked from under the blanket.

“Nothing,” Fang Chi glanced at him. “You… sleep naked?”

“Of course,” Sun Wenqu said. “Sleeping all wrapped up last night, and today still wearing it?”

“…Oh,” Fang Chi quickly bent over his papers. “You sleep then.”

Last night.

Last night.

Honestly, Fang Chi didn’t remember clearly what happened last night.

Or rather, he remembered clearly, but in his memory, it was like watching a shaky camera; he couldn’t tell whether it was a dream or reality.

No.

Maybe he knew it was reality but didn’t dare to believe it.

Fang Chi stared at his test paper, pen scribbling on rough paper.

Sun Wenqu didn’t say a word, didn’t mention even a single word about last night, as if nothing had happened.

Fang Chi quietly glanced at Sun Wenqu from the corner of his eye. Sun Wenqu was lying sideways, face toward the wall, amusing Chief Huang, giving bedtime comfort. In this state, Sun Wenqu always made Fang Chi feel like he was a child.

Many times before, he had thought Sun Wenqu was immature, childish, sometimes like a madman.

But the more time he spent with him, the more he discovered another unfathomable side of Sun Wenqu.

Occasionally feeling it, the illusion that Sun Wenqu was his peer disappeared, and he realized this was a man ten years older, talented, with character, and perhaps with a story.

“If you’re going to do the test, then do it seriously. If not, don’t waste time sitting there dumbly; better rest a bit or play a couple rounds of mahjong.” Sun Wenqu suddenly said to the wall.

“Eh?” Fang Chi jumped, turning to look at him. “I… I’m writing.”

“You writing? Pfft.” Sun Wenqu rolled over, facing him. “Writing a math test? Your pen hasn’t moved. Are you a prodigy doing mental math?”

“Ahhh,” Fang Chi scratched his head. “I’m writing, I’m writing, started writing.”

“Focus. No one in your family expects much from your college entrance exam, so you’re carrying yourself alone,” Sun Wenqu said. “If you’re not anxious, no one will help you be anxious. Worst case, go help in the store. If you want to do well, be a bit ruthless. If not, don’t torture yourself.”

Fang Chi didn’t reply.

“Understand? Understand, huh? If not, come here and I’ll smack you.” Sun Wenqu looked at him.

“…Understand.” Fang Chi said.

“Don’t overthink nonsense. After the exam, there’ll be time to mull it over.” Sun Wenqu said, turning back to the wall.

Fang Chi stayed silent for a long time, put on his headphones, and buried himself in the test.

He worked straight until dinner. For three hours, Fang Chi didn’t stop, finishing two test papers, though some questions were left blank.

Sun Wenqu and Chief Huang had been asleep the whole time, motionless for three hours, as if nonexistent.

When Fang Chi took off his headphones, he could hear Sun Wenqu’s gentle, slow breathing. Chief Huang, however, was softly snoring, sounding like something was blocking his nose.

Fang Chi stood, stretching; his whole body ached. Listening to Chief Huang’s soft snore made him uneasy. Chief Huang normally didn’t snore…

He went to the bed to check, but Chief Huang was curled up beside Sun Wenqu, so he couldn’t see the exact position.

“Chief Huang,” Fang Chi whispered, “Chief Huang?”

Chief Huang didn’t respond, and continued snoring softly. Fang Chi bent over, leaned into the bed: “Little girl pao? Are you suffocating?”

From this angle, he could only see one of Chief Huang’s ears, the tip of his tail, and a third of Sun Wenqu’s profile. He had to kneel one leg on the bed, arm supporting the bed, reaching above Sun Wenqu.

Finally, he saw clearly: Chief Huang’s nose was pressed against Sun Wenqu’s arm.

“You won’t suffocate.” Fang Chi whispered, carefully moving Chief Huang aside.

Chief Huang wagged his tail reluctantly.

When the tail brushed against Sun Wenqu’s chin, Fang Chi sensed trouble.

As he tried to jump down, Sun Wenqu opened his eyes, frowning.

Fang Chi had to stay in position; moving now would seem suspicious.

Sun Wenqu probably slept deeply; he opened his eyes, drowsily looking at him for ten seconds before speaking: “Mm?”

“I… Chief Huang was snoring.” Fang Chi pointed.

“Mm?” Sun Wenqu reacted the same.

“He normally doesn’t snore. I was worried it was suffocating… sleep apnea…” Fang Chi explained.

“…Sleep apnea.” Sun Wenqu said.

“Oh.” Fang Chi nodded.

“But it’s not stopping.” Sun Wenqu glanced at Chief Huang.

“Ah,” Fang Chi jumped down. “I was just worried, went to check, and saw its nose against your arm, so I moved it.”

“Your language skills are really a gift to nature,” Sun Wenqu yawned, stretching. “Took half a lifetime to say one sentence clearly. What time is it?”

“Past five,” Fang Chi looked at his phone. “Time to get ready for dinner.”

“Slept this long,” Sun Wenqu, wrapped in the blanket, lay on the pillow and closed his eyes. “Finished your papers?”

“Two papers done,” Fang Chi felt unusually efficient today. “You check them tonight?”

“Mm,” Sun Wenqu replied. “Go eat first.”

Fang Chi stood, then paused. “You?”

“I’ll eat in the room,” Sun Wenqu said. “Bring me some dumplings later.”

“Not eating together?” Fang Chi froze.

“Nope,” Sun Wenqu smiled with eyes closed. “I’m not part of your family. It’s New Year, not proper to always eat together. Being together on New Year’s Eve is enough. Can’t eat together every meal.”

“Whatever.” Fang Chi frowned.

“Fifteen,” Sun Wenqu said. “The dumplings are big today; fifteen should be enough.”

Fang Chi figured he wouldn’t come down, sighed. “Alright, I’ll bring some dishes too.”

“Ten dumplings is enough with dishes.” Sun Wenqu smiled.

Grandma wasn’t surprised Sun Wenqu didn’t eat downstairs. She quickly cooked dumplings, served a few dishes: “Shuiqu, that kid’s just like this.”

“Mm.” Fang Chi nodded.

“Not just his personality,” Grandpa said. “He’s afraid of bothering us; with outsiders, he worries we’re uncomfortable.”

“Considerate,” Grandma said, patting Fang Chi’s arm. “Learn from him, little rascal.”

“He’s already considerate,” Grandpa laughed.

“Ah, you call this spoiling? Now this is spoiling!” Grandma said.

Fang Chi brought the food to Sun Wenqu’s room. Sun Wenqu was on the phone, probably Ma Liang; only Ma Liang called that number.

Sun Wenqu leaned on the bed, speaking on the phone: “Does he think he’s creative… what color? Totally unreadable… Mm, just say that color. He mentioned eight colors in three days; he probably won’t remember. Alright, no more, my son brought me food.”

Ma Liang said something; Sun Wenqu laughed and hung up.

“Just cooked, I brought some vinegar.” Fang Chi said.

“Smells good.” Sun Wenqu lifted the blanket, got out in just underwear, sniffed by the table. “Honestly, your grandpa’s skills, running a farmhouse restaurant would be fine.”

“Put on some clothes.” Fang Chi said.

Sun Wenqu was tall, slightly thin, but well-proportioned. Fang Chi saw him so clearly for the first time, unsure where to look.

But…

“You don’t have a tattoo on your upper thigh either.” He blurted.

“Mm?” Sun Wenqu, halfway into his pants, looked down, couldn’t hold back laughter. “You’ve lived alone many years; logically, you’d think… Why do you believe everything I say?”

“Because you’re the first unreliable person I’ve met.” Fang Chi said.

“I have three tattoos total.” Sun Wenqu pulled a chair, sat, and started eating.

“What’s on your foot?” Fang Chi asked.

“Y.” Sun Wenqu answered while eating.

“What?” Fang Chi froze.

“Hello Kitty font.” Sun Wenqu repeated in a different tone.

“Wait, I get it…” Fang Chi laughed and cried. “You tattooed a kitty on your ankle?”

“Yes, black, not pink.” Sun Wenqu handed him a dumpling. “Eat?”

Fang Chi, still amazed that a man tattooed a Y on his ankle and didn’t make it pink, instantly bit the dumpling.

“Good, go eat.” Sun Wenqu said.

“Okay.” Fang Chi swallowed and bumped the doorframe leaving.

Today’s meal was still plentiful. Fang Chi didn’t eat much, appetite low, maybe too absorbed in test writing all afternoon, still in a dazed state.

Like all New Year meals, it took a long time. After eating, Fang Chi stayed at the table, chatting with Grandpa.

These days had been busy; he hadn’t had proper talks with Grandpa.

Grandpa’s chats weren’t like Mom and Dad’s simple “how are you?” He liked hearing Fang Chi’s fun daily stories.

“Last time, you spoke about the kid who cried when put on the wall, Still training?” Grandpa asked.

“Yes, doesn’t cry now,” Fang Chi smiled. “Doing pretty well.”

“When you were little, climbing mountains, stuck on rocks, you cried too,” Grandpa sipped wine. “Cried so badly.”

Fang Chi laughed. “You didn’t help me down either.”

“Clearly, I helped you down. You didn’t know how to get down; next time you’d have to hang there,” Grandpa closed his eyes comfortably. “You’re grown up now, don’t cry anymore.”

“When I was little, I didn’t cry that much either.” Fang Chi picked up some food for his grandpa.

“Mm, Fang Hui cried a lot, you remember, right?” Grandpa said quietly. “Once he started, he just wouldn’t stop. Oh man, it annoyed me so much I almost wanted to throw him out.”

Fang Chi leaned back in his chair, laughing so hard he nearly choked.

Spending the whole evening chatting with Grandpa was really enjoyable. Whether he was stressed, tired, or had something on his mind, as long as he talked with Grandpa for a while, Fang Chi would feel much more relaxed.

Grandpa never said anything profound, just ordinary conversation, but it reminded Fang Chi of when he was little, lying on Grandpa’s back, being gently bounced along as he listened to Grandpa’s stories.

This must be what homesickness feels like, the kind Sun Wenqu talked about.

Memories buried deep within memories.

“So where’s Little Chi going to sleep? Maybe I can squeeze in with Little Ying,” Aunt said from the side.

Fang Chi’s attention returned to the others. After all the gathering and celebrating over the past two days, everyone was tired. No one planned to stay up late tonight, they were figuring out sleeping arrangements.

“Little Ying’s a grown girl now, she can have a room to herself. Little Chi can sleep with his grandpa,” Mom said. “That settles it.”

“You wanna squeeze in with me?” Grandpa asked.

“Yeah.” Fang Chi nodded.

They had to visit relatives the next day. Even though it was all within the village, they still had to get up early. Soon everyone wrapped up the conversation and went to bed.

Grandpa went into the room first. By the time Fang Chi finished washing up and came back, Grandpa was already asleep, snoring.

He’d always been like this. After a bit of alcohol, he snored.

“Your snoring’s getting more and more powerful,” Fang Chi said, gently patting his face and turning him onto his side.

Fang Chi lay down on the bed. He was tired, but couldn’t fall asleep.

Grandpa’s snoring had a rhythm: loud, soft, there, gone and the more he listened, the more awake he felt.

After half an hour, Fang Chi got out of bed and quietly slipped out of the room.

Xiaozi was sleeping on a “bed” made of old burlap sacks by the door. When it saw Fang Chi, it stood up and wagged its tail.

“Go back to sleep,” Fang Chi said, patting its head.

Everyone else was asleep. Fang Chi wandered around the living room a couple of times, unsure what to do.

Maybe read a book?

No books, everything was in Sun Wenqu’s room.

He went upstairs quietly. When he saw the light spilling from under Sun Wenqu’s door, he paused.

Still awake?

He checked his phone, already midnight. Slept all afternoon, so couldn’t sleep now?

Fang Chi walked to the door and listened. No sound. He was about to knock, but stopped. After hesitating, he leaned closer and peeked through the crack.

Sun Wenqu was standing shirtless in sweatpants by the pottery wheel, earbuds in, a thin bamboo stick clenched between his teeth, probably some kind of tool, staring intently at the teapot on the wheel.

Fang Chi lowered his raised hand.

Whenever Sun Wenqu was like this, he felt like he couldn’t interrupt. It was as if he was sealed off from the outside world, impossible to approach.

Tsk. And he said he’d play the erhu.

Fang Chi turned and went downstairs. He found a pack of cigarettes on the table and went out to the yard to smoke.

When he came back, he lay down on the sofa, pulling over the blanket his grandma usually used while watching TV.

What a long night.

He rested his head on his arm and stared at the pitch-dark sky outside.

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