Eating two consecutive meals at home with Laoma was something Zou Yang felt he hadn’t done in a very long time.

He felt quite happy.

But he also felt a little unsettled. After all, Laoma was in a relationship—the kind where they were preparing to get married—and with the way things were now, he didn’t know if this was just a temporary fight or if they were going to break up.

Zou Yang had never been in a relationship, and Liu Wenrui and the rest of the guys in the dorm were the type to sleep through Valentine’s Day in their rooms, so he didn’t know if this state of affairs was normal or abnormal.

He lay on his bed hugging a pillow. He didn’t know if he had trained too hard that morning or if Fan Jun’s words had been too stimulating, but he felt extremely exhausted. After eating lunch, he slept all the way until almost 5 PM.

When he woke up, there was a pile of messages on his phone.

He quickly scanned them: they were all from Liu Wenrui and their dorm group chat, plus two sales associates he had added when buying clothes.

He even specifically scrolled down his contact list—there was nothing from Fan Jun.

Zou Yang clicked open the messages one by one. Liu Wenrui had called him a few times and sent him seven or eight messages cursing him out.

There was nothing new in the group chat either. The guys had blamed their failure to reach the mountain summit that afternoon entirely on him not picking up his phone.

They had held a collective denunciation against him in the group chat.

“Psychos,” he muttered with a smile, casually tapping open Fan Jun’s chat box to take a look.

Fan Jun’s WeChat name was very ordinary—just the single character “Fan.” At a quick glance, his profile picture just looked like some sort of cartoon drawing, but now that he tapped to enlarge it, he realized it was a Yazi (a mythical dragon-wolf hybrid).

He hadn’t expected Fan Jun to use a profile picture like this.

It looked like it could kick the pig he himself had drawn flying eight hundred times…

“Yang-ah!” Laoma called him from the living room. “I’m going out to buy groceries.”

Zou Yang thought for a moment, jumped off the bed, and opened his bedroom door. “Let’s go out to eat instead.”

“Eat out?” Laoma was taken aback. “That’s such a waste of money.”

“I want to eat out,” Zou Yang said.

“Alright, we’ll eat out.” Laoma was silent for a moment before turning back toward her bedroom. “Wait for me to change my clothes.”

“Mm.” Zou Yang nodded.

“You change too. Don’t wear the outfit you wore boxing this morning,” Laoma said from inside her room.

He had actually already changed out of his sportswear, but Zou Yang still went and grabbed a fresh set of clothes anyway.

Standing in the living room having changed clothes with Laoma, Laoma started laughing: “Hey, we even changed clothes just to go out for a meal. So grand.”

“Celebrating a holiday, aren’t we,” Zou Yang yawned.

Standing by the road waiting for their car to arrive, Laoma glanced at Zou Yang: “For your birthday… do you want to buy a car?”

“What the heck? Buy a car for my birthday?” Zou Yang was stunned. “What for? You don’t know how to drive either.”

“I don’t know,” Laoma said. “But you know how to drive.”

“Am I supposed to drive to school? One round trip a week,” Zou Yang said. “It wouldn’t even be enough for me to crash it.”

“Nonsense!” Laoma swatted him, thought about it, and sighed. “Your Second Aunt bought Xiao Lin a car…”

“Sister Lin is about to graduate and start working,” Zou Yang said. “What am I rushing for?”

Laoma didn’t say anything.

Zou Yang knew that Laoma‘s relationship with her siblings wasn’t particularly close; they didn’t interact much usually, but there was always a bit of mutual comparison going on, especially after her divorce.

“You save up the money. When I graduate, buy me a better one,” Zou Yang slung his arm over Laoma‘s shoulder. “How about it? Starting at 200,000 RMB.”

“In your dreams,” Laoma said. “Xiao Lin’s car was only 60,000 out the door.”

“Then I wouldn’t even look twice at it.” Zou Yang clicked his tongue. “Someone like me who seeks pleasure and comfort couldn’t endure that kind of hardship.”

“You just talk too much bullshit,” Laoma said.

“What can I say?” Zou Yang said. “I am your son, after all.”

Laoma smiled: “This mouth of yours, it’s exactly like your…”

Zou Yang swiftly covered her mouth: “Hey, hey, hey, don’t talk nonsense. If you get so mad later that you can’t eat and blame it on me, where am I supposed to go to reason it out?”

Laoma didn’t continue, just swatted his hand.

---

“Is this dish a little salty?” Fan Jun asked Uncle Lü.

“Tastes fine to me,” Uncle Lü said, glancing at Lü Ze. “Not salty, right?”

Lü Ze didn’t speak, just shook his head and shoveled rice from his bowl into his mouth.

With no kids eating with them today, the three of them ate their meal quietly and quickly, as if they had returned to several years ago before Uncle Lü had met Sister Shan.

As usual, Lü Ze finished eating in a few minutes, put down his bowl, and went out.

While eating, Fan Jun felt his phone vibrate, so he pulled it out to check.

It hadn’t rung.

He put the phone back on the table and continued eating.

Auditory hallucination?

“Today…” Uncle Lü pulled his chair closer to him, “Zou Yang came to class, right?”

“Mm,” Fan Jun nodded. “This morning.”

“Did he…” Uncle Lü glanced back toward the door, “…did he say anything?”

“He asked if Lü Ze cursed at Sister Shan,” Fan Jun put down his bowl and said softly. “I said no, he just cursed at him.”

“You kid,” Uncle Lü laughed, but after a while, he sighed. “Cursing at Zou Yang isn’t right either. Her son didn’t do anything wrong, he kindly helped out and got cursed at. It would be strange if he wasn’t angry.”

“Aren’t you going to call Sister Shan?” Fan Jun asked.

“I did,” Uncle Lü frowned. “She’s not answering.”

“Call again,” Fan Jun said.

When someone isn’t answering the phone, her son could call over three thousand times.

“When is Zou Yang coming to class next?” Uncle Lü asked.

“…I don’t know. Once the holiday is over and classes start, he probably won’t have as much time.” Fan Jun picked up his phone, swiped casually, and finally tapped open Zou Yang’s profile picture to look at it.

He hadn’t looked closely at this profile picture before. Now that he zoomed in, he realized there was actually a signature in the bottom right corner.

Zou Yang.

Did Zou Yang draw this profile picture himself?
He knows how to draw?

“Ah?” Uncle Lü said something beside him.

“Ah?” he responded.

“You go back and rest,” Uncle Lü raised his voice. “I’ll clean up here.”

“I’ll go over to the new gym to take a look,” Fan Jun stood up. “The Iron Gang has two classes tonight, and the dog is still over there.”

“Alright,” Uncle Lü said.

Uncle Lü cleared the bowls to wash them, and Fan Jun walked out of the kitchen.

The sky was already dark, and the lights in the courtyard weren’t on. It looked even quieter than it sounded.

The mall area was livelier than usual; there were probably still quite a few people around right now. But the North Small Street area wasn’t much affected. After a brief period of bustling activity during the day, once night fell, all kinds of sounds were carried away by the last ray of sunset.

Standing in the courtyard, for some reason, Fan Jun felt very empty.

In the past, when Sister Shan wasn’t around, he didn’t feel this way. But today, he could especially feel this change.

He tilted his head back, slightly lifting the brim of his hat, and looked at the night sky.

In the distance, there were noisy shouts.

Fan Jun tilted his head, aiming his right ear toward the direction of the sound. From far to near, he heard someone yelling, along with some indistinct noises.

“Sun the Fifth is beating his son again,” Uncle Lü said to him through the kitchen window. “Beating his son the moment he gets back… I’ll go take a look…”

“I’ll go,” Fan Jun walked toward the courtyard gate.

The next second, Sun Xulei’s figure flashed past outside the courtyard gate, running like a bolt of lightning. The person had already run more than ten meters away, but the crying, hoarse roar was still left behind in the air.

“Ah—ah—”

Then came Father Sun, chasing after him and sweeping past the outside of the courtyard gate.

By the time Fan Jun walked out of the courtyard, quite a few neighbors had gathered around. Someone was even running alongside Father Sun: “Stop hitting him! Stop hitting him!”

“What do you mean ‘educating’? You’re just taking your anger out on the kid!”

Sun Xulei hadn’t run into the martial arts gym to beg his Brother Fan to save him today. He got beaten at least once a month, but he didn’t look for Fan Jun every single time.

“Jun-er!” Lao Si rode over on his electric tricycle. “Which way did they go?”

Lao Si’s house was right next to Sun Xulei’s grandmother’s house; today he probably just couldn’t stand watching it anymore.

“Follow the road…” Fan Jun glanced in the direction Sun Xulei had fled, then jumped onto the electric tricycle. “Turn around and loop back.”

Sun Xulei had turned left at the intersection ahead. Based on his understanding of Sun Xulei, the kid was smart; he wouldn’t run far. Only in places full of neighbors would someone help him.

Right now, he was probably just running in circles around these side streets branching off North Small Street. Even if no one helped him, with his stamina, just running blindly through familiar streets would be enough to exhaust his dad.

Lao Si pulled a U-turn and drove down the road in the opposite direction.

Sure enough, just after passing the intersection and taking a right turn, they saw from a distance that Sun Xulei had already completed a half-circle and was running back toward them.

Lao Si drove forward a short distance and parked. Fan Jun jumped off the tricycle and stood in the middle of the sidewalk.

Halfway through his run, when Sun Xulei looked up and saw him, he instantly burst into tears, crying and yelling at the same time: “Brother Fan—Brother Si—”

“Come here!” Lao Si shouted.

Sun Xulei accelerated and charged over. Fan Jun stepped aside to make room: “Go to Lao Si.”

After Sun Xulei rushed past, he blocked the middle of the road again. Right on his heels, Father Sun, panting and cursing, charged right up to him: “Stop sticking your fucking nose into other people’s business!”

Fan Jun didn’t speak and didn’t move.

When Father Sun lowered his shoulder and slammed diagonally into his chest, he only raised his arm to block it.

Over a decade ago, Father Sun had practiced martial arts with Uncle Lü for a few days. Although alcohol had ruined him over the years, he still had brute strength, and the impact wasn’t light.

And at the same time he crashed into him, he reached out, grabbed Fan Jun’s waist, and aimed a knee strike right at his abdomen.

Fan Jun was on guard. Father Sun had drunk more than usual today, crashing over like a car fully gassed up, not quite in his usual state.

However, even though he was on guard, the blow was still heavy. Fan Jun frowned: “Foul.”

“Foul your fucking mom’s…” Father Sun cursed filthily, clinging to him without letting go, wanting to deliver another knee strike.

Fan Jun directly slapped a palm over his mouth, pushing his head backward. With his other hand, he yanked his arm off his own body, then gave him a vicious shove.

Father Sun stumbled and fell hard on his butt, glaring at him wide-eyed.

Fan Jun pointed at him: “Watch your mouth.”

Just as he turned around to go ask Sun Xulei what happened, Father Sun scrambled back up from behind him. This time, his target was no longer Fan Jun.

“Get over here right now!” Father Sun roared. “I’ll beat you to death today! You’re fucking dead!”

Fan Jun stopped dead in his tracks.

Every time Father Sun beat his son, he did it with earth-shattering commotion—it was one of the spectacles of North Small Street, and he had said similar things plenty of times.

But today, those specific words at this specific moment were like a needle stabbing into Fan Jun’s body, the tip piercing the deepest, most hidden nerve in his heart.

A sharp ringing suddenly erupted in his ears.

“What did you say.” Fan Jun turned his face sideways and asked in a hoarse voice.

“None of your fucking business if I teach my son a lesson…” Father Sun charged once again toward Sun Xulei, who had hidden behind Lao Si.

“Go to hell.” Fan Jun raised his leg and delivered a front kick, landing squarely on Father Sun’s chest.

Father Sun was kicked flying backward for more than a meter.

He crashed onto the ground, lifted his head slightly, then his arms and legs sprawled out beside him, and he stopped moving.

Fan Jun stared at him dead-on. Through the ringing in his ears, he faintly heard Lao Si’s voice: “Fuck… Fan Jun, you…”

---

“I’m not booking a class today. I really won’t be able to find the time later on!” Liu Wenrui sat on a bench in the museum plaza, holding a popsicle in one hand and looking at his class schedule on his phone in the other. “This schedule is so packed, I feel like I didn’t even pay enough tuition.”

“Aren’t you guys investors?” Zou Yang took out his phone to message Fan Jun. “Why do shareholders still have to take advantage and book classes?”

“This is a shareholder perk, understand?” Li Zhiyue said.

“Do I have to book Coach Tan’s class too?” Zhang Chuanlong held his phone, looking conflicted.

“If you don’t book,” Zou Yang said, “you can just go stand to the side and watch Tan Ru teach other people.”

[Zou yang]: Booking a class, those guys want to book a group class.

“Are you speaking human language right now?!” Zhang Chuanlong glared at him.

“Then listen to what you’re saying,” Zou Yang retorted. “You bought Tan Ru’s class, and then you don’t book it. What are you planning to do?”

“I’m a little scared of her,” Zhang Chuanlong said.

“The kid’s shy.” Li Zhiyue patted his head.

“What’s there to be shy about?” Zhang Chuanlong shoved his phone in front of Li Zhiyue. “Her WeChat Moments are full of murderous intent!”

Fan Jun didn’t reply to the message, so Zou Yang sent another one.

[Zou yang]: Coach Fan, wake up, time to earn your hourly rate.

After waiting for a few minutes, there was still no reply from Fan Jun.

Zou Yang clicked his tongue and initiated a voice call, but no one picked up.

“What’s wrong? Is he that busy?” Liu Wenrui leaned over.

“Don’t know. I’ll give him a call.” Zou Yang dialed Fan Jun’s number.

Hello, the number you have dialed is powered off, Sorry! The number…

Zou Yang hung up the phone and looked at Liu Wenrui.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Liu Wenrui looked back at him.

“Powered off,” Zou Yang said.

“Dead battery?” Liu Wenrui said.

“Don’t know.” Zou Yang frowned, dialed the number again, and got the same prompt: powered off.

He tapped open Fan Jun’s WeChat Moments to take a look. Nothing out of the ordinary; the last post was the steamed dumplings and buns they had eaten for lunch yesterday, suspected to be aimed at pissing off Lü Ze.

…He didn’t get into another conflict with Lü Ze, did he?

“Let’s just go over and take a look,” Li Zhiyue said. “We’ve already finished touring the museum catalog anyway, and we have nothing to do this afternoon.”

“Let’s go.” Zou Yang turned around and walked toward the parking lot.

While out-of-town tourist Liu Wenrui was gripping the steering wheel, listening to the navigation and struggling forward on the road, Zou Yang’s phone rang.

“He called back?” Liu Wenrui turned to glance at him.

Zou Yang grabbed his phone while yelling together with the two in the backseat: “Watch the road!”

“Hey! Looking, looking, looking.” Liu Wenrui stared straight ahead.

“It’s my mom,” Zou Yang said.

The moment he picked up the phone, he felt a faint sense of disappointment.

…Can’t let Laoma know.

“I’m heading over to the martial arts gym now,” Laoma said. “I’ll be back late tonight, so you eat by yourself.”

“What’s wrong?” Zou Yang immediately sat up straight. “Did something happen? I tried calling Fan Jun, but his phone is off.”

“It’s… still not clear,” Laoma said. “Old Lü didn’t explain it very clearly to me either. I’ll go over and ask what happened, then I’ll tell you.”

“We’re actually heading over there right now,” Zou Yang said. “We originally wanted to go take a class.”

“Then you guys head over too,” Laoma said. “Drive safe.”

“Mm.” Zou Yang hung up the phone, feeling a bit dazed.

“What happened?” Li Zhiyue asked.

“…I don’t know,” Zou Yang said.

With Liu Wenrui’s driving skills, there was absolutely no way he could drive onto North Small Street. He could only park in the street parking spot closest to the old gym.

The few of them entered the old gym’s courtyard gate, panting and out of breath.

Laoma hadn’t arrived yet.

The old gym looked the same as usual right now. There were people taking class inside the training hall, the sounds of bang bang echoing out.

But Zou Yang noticed something wrong on his second glance.

Xiaobai, who was standing in front of its doghouse wagging its tail furiously at him, was tied up.

…Something happened to Fan Jun.

Lü Ze saw them from inside the training hall, walked out, and asked, “Why are you here?”

“Where’s Fan Jun?” Zou Yang asked.

Lü Ze glanced at him, then swept his gaze over the faces of the people behind him, and lowered his voice: “He’s been detained.”