When Fan Jun said this sentence, he was standing under a streetlamp. The dim light, which seemed to carry a layer of mist, hit him from above. His face was shrouded in the shadow of his hat, making his expression indistinguishable.

“When he left the house, he said that when he came back, he would kill me.”

No matter how you listened to it, these words sounded extremely strange, carrying a bizarre sense of dread.

Zou Yang turned around and walked back to him. “Your dad… said that?”

“Yeah,” Fan Jun’s voice was very low.

Zou Yang had a hundred thousand ‘whys’ in his heart, but for a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to ask. After all, judging from the literal meaning of Fan Jun’s words, this kind of father would only appear in the crime news.

“He…” Zou Yang organized his words for quite a while before squeezing out a sentence, “Why would he say that?”
All those years studying the Chinese language were practically for nothing.

“Probably…” Fan Jun tilted his head up slightly. “Because he wanted to kill me.”

Zou Yang fell silent.
The night wind blew past. The daytime temperatures over the past two days had warmed up a bit, but when Fan Jun said this, Zou Yang suddenly felt that the wind carried a chill, as if the temperature was dropping again.

“What did he go out to do?” Zou Yang asked another question after a long while.

“Buy cigarettes,” Fan Jun said.

Zou Yang fell silent again. Going out to buy cigarettes, and then coming back to kill his own son.
These two answers had absolutely no logic to them; it sounded like a ghost story.

Fan Jun also fell silent. After a while, he spoke again, “You should hurry up and call a car.”

Zou Yang stared at him blankly.

“There aren’t many cars around here. After nine o’clock, there won’t be any drivers taking orders,” Fan Jun said.

“And then what?” Zou Yang asked. “What happened after he came back from buying cigarettes?”

“He never came back,” Fan Jun said.

“…Oh.” Zou Yang glanced at Xiao Bai sitting nearby; he actually forgot to be afraid of the dog at this moment.

“Remember to inform them to take photos at ten o’clock tomorrow,” Fan Jun said as he slowly walked backward. “If you have class, it’s at eight-thirty. If you can’t get up, later is fine too, just before nine.”

Xiao Bai followed him, also walking backward.

“Okay.” Zou Yang nodded.

“Good night,” Fan Jun said.

“…Good night,” Zou Yang said, but he remained standing exactly where he was.

Fan Jun turned and walked back.
Xiao Bai also turned around and followed by his side. The stride frequency of one person and one dog was completely identical.

Fan Jun had said he never specifically trained Xiao Bai; he just played with him when he had free time, and over a long period, the dog just understood… Just how long of a time was that?

Zou Yang watched Fan Jun’s back.
With his hands in his jacket pockets, his head lowered, walking in the moonlight’s shadows—when the wind blew past, Zou Yang almost felt that his figure became blurred, as if his entire person was being blown away.

How lonely must a person be to play with a dog to this level?

Fan Jun never looked back again.
When he turned and walked away, Zou Yang was still standing in the same spot.
Whether Zou Yang had left by now or was still standing there, Fan Jun didn’t know.

Zou Yang’s questions were very simple, yet very difficult to answer.
He could feel that his attempt at giving the simplest possible answers might have frightened Zou Yang.

When passing by the old hall, Uncle Lü and Sister Shan had already cleaned up and left; the courtyard gate was already locked.
But Fan Jun still opened the door and took a lap inside.
There was no particular meaning to it, just taking a lap. He took a lap every single day.

He hadn’t spent much time with the dog today, so he didn’t leave Xiao Bai at the old hall. He brought Xiao Bai back to his little apartment.
Xiao Bai and Da Hei were already quite familiar with each other. Although Da Hei wasn’t even as big as the dog’s head, he was quite bold and wasn’t afraid of dogs. When Xiao Bai was at home, he would sleep on top of Xiao Bai.
He looked very safe.
Enviable.

“Why should I cancel the order? I’m not canceling it.” Zou Yang was sitting on a stone block in the parking lot.

“I can’t get over there,” the driver on the other end said.

“I have no hands,” Zou Yang said.

“I can’t get over there!” the driver repeated.

Zou Yang paused, hung up the phone, stared at the screen for two seconds, and canceled the order.
What a crappy place.

He originally wanted to argue with the driver a bit more, but he really wasn’t in the mood. His mind was full of Fan Jun and that father who was going to kill him when he returned, but never came back.
An emotion—hard to say if it was curiosity, a desire to pry, or worry—had reached its peak.

He stood up, stretched his legs, looked around, and walked over to two shared electric bikes. Then he opened his navigation app, tapped in his home address, and glanced at the route.
12.7 kilometers.
He hadn’t noticed it was this far before.

Riding his own bike would have been one thing, but riding a small shared bike against the night wind—without the guys from his dorm at the bottom to suffer with him, he wasn’t willing to do it.
He reopened the ride-hailing interface.

After waiting for five minutes, he put his phone back in his pocket and walked over to a nearby barbecue cart that had zero customers.
To be precise, business for this whole stretch of small night market stalls was pretty bad, and the boss of this barbecue cart had been staring at him for a long time.

“What would you like?” the boss greeted him enthusiastically.

“Give me five skewers of everything, packed to go,” Zou Yang glanced at the various skewers laid out in front of him. “No vegetables.”

“Alright, can you handle spicy food?” the boss asked.

“…I don’t know,” Zou Yang thought for a few seconds. “Just don’t make it too spicy.”

“You got it,” the boss pointed to a small stool nearby. “Have a seat and wait a bit, it’ll be quick.”

Zou Yang sat down to wait. After a while, he took out his phone again and dialed Fan Jun’s number directly.
Listening to the dial tone, he pondered what to say.
But Fan Jun never picked up the phone.

Zou Yang checked the number. It was correct. He dialed again, but still no one answered.
Taking a shower?

While struggling forward on the small shared bike with a bag of barbecue and a case of beer, Zou Yang called Fan Jun once more.
Still no answer.
What kind of delicate boy takes this long of a shower?

Zou Yang sent a message over.
– Asleep?

Fan Jun still didn’t reply.

Zou Yang raced the small shared bike all the way to the downstairs of Fan Jun’s building, then carried the barbecue and beer up to the top floor. By this time, he was no longer in the mood to guess what Fan Jun was doing.
Fan Jun’s state today and the things he had just said, combined with his back filled with indescribable emotions when he turned and left, all made Zou Yang somewhat panicked.
Even though it was a bit absurd, he couldn’t control his racing imagination…
Don’t tell me he committed suicide!

By the time Zou Yang started violently pounding on the door, he was already prepared to break it down.
This door was the cheapest kind of security door that only pretended it could prevent theft; one kick could put a hole in it.

A low growl from Xiao Bai came from inside the apartment.
Zou Yang’s determination to kick the door wavered for a split second.
But then he took a step back. The dog had reacted; if no one opened the door now, he would definitely have to kick it.

The door opened in the next second.
Fan Jun was wearing pajamas, with today’s prize stuck to his forehead, draped in a… cape. He stood by the door, looking at him in shock.
Behind him was the dog, its ears standing straight up in alertness.

“Fuck,” Zou Yang looked at the headphones hanging around his neck. “You… I thought you…”

The neighbor’s door behind them also opened. An auntie poked her head out and looked Zou Yang up and down: “Keep the noise down so late at night! My family is sleeping!”
“Sorry,” Zou Yang turned his head and said.

“Come in.” Fan Jun said as he reached back and made a hand gesture to the dog.
The dog turned, pawed at the bedroom door handle, opened the door, went inside, and then closed the bedroom door behind itself.

Zou Yang hurriedly entered the apartment.
After Fan Jun closed the front door, Zou Yang suddenly felt a wave of awkwardness.
He was at a complete loss for what to do.

“Where’s your phone?” Zou Yang asked.

“Charging in the room,” Fan Jun paused. “Did you send me a message?”

“I called you three thousand times,” Zou Yang said.

“The bedroom door was closed, otherwise Xiao Bai would have alerted me…” Fan Jun walked into the room. “Does your phone still have battery, do you need to charge it for a bit?”

“It has battery.” Zou Yang marveled at Xiao Bai’s abilities once again.

“Still has battery after making three thousand calls?” Fan Jun walked out of the bedroom.

“…It runs on wind power, it fully charged on the ride over here,” Zou Yang said.

Fan Jun smiled and didn’t say anything.
After saying this, Zou Yang didn’t know what else to say either.

He was currently an uninvited guest who had invaded someone else’s single apartment late at night. If it were him—having washed up at night, lying in his own little nest listening to music—even if it was Liu Wenrui who came over, he would have beaten him out the door.

“You…” Fan Jun hesitated for a moment, took the things from his hands, and placed them on the small table in the living room. “Couldn’t get a cab?”

“Yeah,” Zou Yang responded.

“Then…” Fan Jun was clearly ill-equipped to handle this kind of situation as well.

“Not exactly,” Zou Yang said.

Fan Jun didn’t speak, just looked at him.

“Normally,” Zou Yang paused, then gritted his teeth and said it straight, “For the guys in our dorm, if someone runs into some trouble and is in a bad mood, we just do this: eat a little, drink a little. If they want to talk, they talk; if they don’t want to talk, they just zone out.”

Fan Jun continued to look at him silently.

“I feel like you’re probably… not really fine,” Zou Yang said. “Anyway, I…”

“Do you want to wear slippers?” Fan Jun asked.

“…No need,” Zou Yang said.

Fan Jun also took off his slippers and walked into the kitchen.

Zou Yang walked over to the sofa. Da Hei was lying on the sofa with his belly exposed. Zou Yang hesitated for a moment, then sat down next to Da Hei.
Fan Jun must have been lying on the sofa just now; there was still obvious body heat left on it.
He reached out and scratched Da Hei’s belly.

Fan Jun came out of the kitchen holding a small, low table.
Zou Yang hurriedly stood up again.

“Stay seated,” Fan Jun said.
Zou Yang sat back down.

Fan Jun placed the small table on the small rug in front of the sofa, turned around to bring the barbecue and alcohol to the table, and then sat down on the rug, leaning against the sofa.
Zou Yang thought about it and also sat down on the rug.

“I’m really fine,” Fan Jun looked at him.

“Then let’s have a late-night snack,” Zou Yang said.

“Okay,” Fan Jun replied.

Zou Yang opened the bag, arranged the several boxes of barbecue, picked up a skewer of whatever it was, and took a bite.
After chewing twice, he stopped, brought the skewer up to his eyes, and looked at it again.

Fan Jun also picked up a skewer and took a bite.
Zou Yang looked at him.

“Mhm.” Fan Jun nodded.

“Mhm what?” Zou Yang asked.

“It is a bit awful,” Fan Jun said.

“Fuck,” Zou Yang laughed. “No wonder that stall had no customers.”

“Bought it near the mall?” Fan Jun didn’t stop, continuing to eat.

“Yeah.” Zou Yang opened a can of beer.

“The stalls over there are temporary, they don’t do repeat business,” Fan Jun said. “Barbecue is only good if it’s from around the wet market area.”

“Oh,” Zou Yang replied.

Fan Jun’s state seemed passable. He didn’t seem exceptionally awful, let alone suicidal.
They probably wouldn’t continue that highly unpleasant topic from before.

It was only now, having quieted down, that Zou Yang had the chance to mentally review his own behavior right now… It was too abrupt.
Zou Yang, you were way too abrupt.

This wasn’t Liu Wenrui, nor was it the classmates from his dorm that he had lived with day and night for at least two years.
This was his mother’s boyfriend’s adopted son, whom he had just met a few days ago.
Currently, their closest relationship was that he was his coach.

“That sister we bumped into today was my former neighbor,” Fan Jun suddenly spoke up at this moment. “I was afraid she would recognize me, and my dad might find out where I am.”

That should be highly unlikely, right?
Zou Yang didn’t speak.

Only now did he realize that saying it was one thing—like treating him like a dorm mate who ran into trouble—but actually doing it was impossible.
They weren’t close enough for that, and he couldn’t pry into the other’s affairs with the mindset of sharing gossip.
Especially… Fan Jun’s affairs were absolutely not comparable to the so-called annoyances experienced by anyone around him.

Just from that one sentence, he could already understand; that was a wound that pierced through both Fan Jun’s body and mind simultaneously.
Fuck.
What did I come running over here for?

Zou Yang remained silent and took another sip of alcohol.

“Actually, I also know it’s impossible,” Fan Jun looked at the barbecue in his hand, not looking at him. “I just couldn’t control it.”

“That’s normal,” Zou Yang wiped his mouth and picked up the barbecue he had just taken one bite of. Although it wasn’t good, it wasn’t horribly inedible either. “The scars on your face, were they all from him beating you?”

“Yes,” Fan Jun replied.

“Beaten so viciously,” Zou Yang said. “Who wouldn’t be afraid, especially since you were just a kid back then.”

Fan Jun turned his head and glanced at him.
Zou Yang also looked at him: “That eye patch, if you aren’t wearing it properly, just take it off. It keeps making me feel like you have a fever and stuck a cooling patch on.”

“Hmm?” Fan Jun paused for a moment before raising his hand to touch his forehead. He laughed when he felt the eye patch. “I forgot.”

“Got used to wearing the hat, right,” Zou Yang said.

“Yeah,” Fan Jun nodded. He lowered his head, folded the eye patch he took off, and placed it on the small storage rack next to the sofa.

“Do you want to cover the scars on your face because you’re afraid someone will recognize you?” Zou Yang asked another question while eating.

“Yes,” Fan Jun turned back to continue looking at the barbecue in his hand.

“Actually…” Zou Yang looked at him, hesitating for a moment. “What’s your dad’s combat power level? If he really came, could he beat you? Could he beat Guan Jun? Could he beat Uncle Lü? With the three of you together, there’s no way he wouldn’t get beaten into a pulp.”

Fan Jun turned back to look at him again.

“What,” Zou Yang asked.

Fan Jun didn’t speak. He just reached out, opened a can of beer, lightly clinked it against Zou Yang’s can, then tilted his head back and chugged a few mouthfuls.
Zou Yang picked up his beer and followed suit, drinking a few mouthfuls.

“Is your relationship with your dad good?” Fan Jun asked.

“Huh?” Zou Yang paused for two seconds. Mentioning his dad… he suddenly felt that the room, which had a perfectly fine temperature, was a bit hot and dry.
He put down the beer, took off his hoodie jacket, and tossed it onto the sofa: “Superficially, we are a loving father and filial son.”

Fan Jun glanced at the T-shirt he was wearing underneath.

“I’m not cold,” Zou Yang also looked at the… cape Fan Jun was wearing.

“I thought your relationship with your dad was pretty good,” Fan Jun said.

Zou Yang astutely followed up with a question: “Did my mom say that?”

“No, I just felt,” Fan Jun turned sideways to lean against the sofa, facing him, answering very sincerely. “Your personality is quite good.”

“That can only mean my dad isn’t bad to that extent,” Zou Yang rested his arm on the sofa, propping up his head. “My dad is a hypocrite. His only redeeming quality is his confidence.”

Fan Jun smiled.

“Is my personality good?” Zou Yang asked.

“Good,” Fan Jun said.

“But Liu Wenrui wanted to fight you,” Zou Yang said.

“I don’t even need a single finger to beat him,” Fan Jun said. “I have the final say.”

“Thank you,” Zou Yang smiled and said.

“Thank you,” Fan Jun picked up the beer can, shook it, realized it was empty, so he opened another one and raised it in front of him.

Zou Yang picked up his own can and clinked it against his: “For what?”

“Besides Uncle Lü and the others,” Fan Jun said. “You are the only one… who wanted to know about those things of mine.”

“Maybe…” Zou Yang frowned. “Only I was this reckless.”

“No,” Fan Jun said.

Zou Yang looked at him and didn’t speak.

“It’s just that no one cares about other people’s business, I’m the same way,” Fan Jun said.

“I thought you would mind others knowing about your affairs,” Zou Yang said.

“I do mind,” Fan Jun said.

“…Fuck me,” Zou Yang suddenly felt awkward. “How come your words always have plot twists.”

Fan Jun smiled.

“Then do you…” Zou Yang took a sip of beer. “Want to say it? Someone who hasn’t been heard from in so long, why do you…”

“He is someone who truly would kill a person,” Fan Jun said. “Others might not need to take it seriously, but he really would. I know.”

Zou Yang didn’t speak.

“I know,” Fan Jun repeated once more.