FF CH28
“Nanzhouping…” Zou Yang suddenly felt a bit awkward. “It’s pretty big.”
“Mm,” Fan Jun nodded. “When I first got here, I thought it was like a maze. It felt like I’d never be able to walk out of it.”
Zou Yang didn’t speak.
The place where they got out of the car was an intersection located on the outskirts of Nanzhouping. Compared to the heart of Nanzhouping, it didn’t have a very strong “Nanzhouping style.”
Cars came and went, and there were quite a few pedestrians standing next to them waiting for the light to cross the street.
The two of them just stood there like a pair of posts under the street sign on the sidewalk.
They either had to walk along the road or start a conversation.
For some unknown reason, Zou Yang was momentarily unable to make a choice, and Fan Jun didn’t look like he had any intention of moving either.
“These past few days… how were they?” Zou Yang finally asked.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Fan Jun said.
“Ah,” Zou Yang was slightly taken aback. “Is that so.”
“They didn’t turn off the lights in the room, it was very bright,” Fan Jun said.
Zou Yang glanced at his hat. They hadn’t let him wear his hat in there these past few days, and the lights were constantly on…
“You could have used a piece of clothing to cover your eyes,” Zou Yang said.
“Not allowed,” Fan Jun said.
“Oh,” Zou Yang responded.
Then there was silence again.
Zou Yang felt a bit baffled. Even though he and Fan Jun couldn’t be called the best of friends, they were quite familiar with each other. Usually, meeting up every few days, there wouldn’t be any awkwardness.
How come after just three and a half days, it felt like they hadn’t seen each other in three years?
He didn’t know where to put his hands, and he didn’t know where to look…
“I’m… very hungry,” Fan Jun said.
“Let’s go,” Zou Yang quickly waved his hand, turning and walking down the road. “My treat. What do you want to eat?”
“Barbecue,” Fan Jun followed him.
“Going to that market area you mentioned?” Zou Yang asked.
“There’s some on this side too,” Fan Jun said. “Even better. Usually don’t have many chances to come over here.”
“Alright,” Zou Yang nodded. “Let’s go to the one on this side.”
“You’re going the wrong way,” Fan Jun said.
“Huh?” Zou Yang turned to look at him.
“You’re going the wrong way,” Fan Jun pointed behind them. “It’s that way.”
“…Why didn’t you wait until I walked completely out of Nanzhouping to tell me.” Zou Yang turned around and started walking back.
“You were flying too fast, my mouth couldn’t keep up,” Fan Jun said.
Zou Yang paused his steps and started laughing.
Uncle Lü and Laoma had prepared a welcome-home meal for noon, so they couldn’t eat anything too formal right now.
Fan Jun carried a bag of barbecue and led Zou Yang to the riverbank.
“Is this the river we ran by that day?” Zou Yang asked.
“Mm,” Fan Jun nodded, walking down the steps along the riverbank. “This is upstream. Only this section allows you to walk down onto the riverbed.”
It had been a long time since he’d eaten like this—sitting on the rocks of the riverbed, basking in the sun, facing a stretch of shimmering river water.
The barbecue from this place really was delicious; the meat was good, the seasoning was generous, and the grilling was spot-on.
Biting into a piece of meat, and only after confirming that Fan Jun’s mood was okay right now, did Zou Yang ask: “Why did you kick that Sun-whatever guy the other day?”
Fan Jun turned his head to look at him.
Then he looked down at the stones by his feet, only speaking after a moment: “The words Sun the Fifth said… reminded me of some things.”
He was probably thinking of Fan Gang.
Zou Yang didn’t ask further, but he could pretty much guess it.
Compared to Fan Gang, Sun the Fifth’s level of brutality was probably just small fry. But for this kind of person, their underlying nature was exactly the same; it wasn’t surprising that it would make Fan Jun lose control in an instant.
The fact that he hadn’t kicked him into a permanent cripple was a testament to Fan Jun’s astonishing self-control.
“Did they not give you meat to eat in the detention center?” Zou Yang glanced at Fan Jun, who had already devoured three large skewers.
“They did, very little,” Fan Jun said. “And I didn’t really have an appetite either.”
“Got an appetite now?” Zou Yang asked.
“Mm, feeling much better.” Fan Jun smiled, taking his phone out of his pocket and turning it on.
“Damn,” Zou Yang looked at him. “You managed to hold off for this long before turning it on? If it were me, the second I got out I would have…”
“Pah [spit],” Fan Jun glanced at him.
“Who are you spitting at!” Zou Yang said.
“Spit three times,” Fan Jun said while looking at his phone.
“…Oh,” Zou Yang took half a minute to react. “Pah, pah, pah.”
Fan Jun tapped open his messages and read them one by one.
Big-head Yu, Lao Si, Rongrong, the Iron Gang, Tan Ru… and a few students trying to book classes…
He tapped open Zou Yang’s messages first and smiled.
“If you want to book a class, let’s do the day after tomorrow,” Fan Jun said. “If you have classes during the day, we can do it at night.”
“Are you resting tomorrow?” Zou Yang asked.
“Mm,” Fan Jun nodded.
“Take a few extra days to rest,” Zou Yang said. “I can see you’ve lost a lot of weight. Not eating well, not sleeping well.”
“It’s fine,” Fan Jun said. “I’m already fine now.”
He probably wasn’t “fine” at all.
Zou Yang could sense that Fan Jun’s mood was still a bit down. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t slept well in the detention center, or because of the detention itself, or… if it was because Sun the Fifth reminded him of Fan Gang-gang-gang-gang-gang…
But he couldn’t ask directly.
He picked up a skewer of gristle and took a bite. Mm, this is good.
But it seemed like this was the only skewer left in the bag…
“Fan Jun,” he called out to Fan Jun. “This is good.”
Fan Jun didn’t make a sound, focused entirely on gnawing on a lamb skewer.
“Fan Jun,” Zou Yang called him again.
Fan Jun still ignored him.
Zou Yang had to reconfirm his left and right—he was definitely on Fan Jun’s right side. Ever since he learned that Fan Jun could only hear clearly from his right, Zou Yang had almost never stayed on his left side.
“Fan Jun,” Zou Yang nudged Fan Jun with his arm.
“Mm?” Fan Jun turned his head.
“This gristle is good,” Zou Yang offered the skewer to him.
“Oh,” Fan Jun reached out, ready to take it.
Zou Yang jerked the skewer, dodging his hand, then offered it to him again: “I’m letting you try a piece, not giving you the whole thing. It’s the only skewer left.”
“Mm,” Fan Jun replied. He wanted to use his hand to pull a piece off, but looked at his hands and hesitated.
“Just bite it directly,” Zou Yang waved the skewer in his hand.
Fan Jun gave him a look, opened his mouth, and bit off a piece of gristle. Zou Yang pulled the stick away, then continued eating the rest.
“Did you not hear me talking just now?” Zou Yang asked after eating another piece.
“Didn’t… notice,” Fan Jun said. “What did you say?”
“Even if you weren’t paying attention, shouldn’t you be able to hear from this close?” Zou Yang glanced at his right ear.
Fan Jun was silent for a moment before saying in a low voice, “The past couple of days, I’ve had continuous tinnitus.”
“Tinnitus?” Zou Yang was taken aback. “Is it ringing right now?”
“No, it’s just a bit muffled. A night of rest and it’ll be fine,” Fan Jun said.
“So right now, are you listening to me talk or watching me talk?” Zou Yang tilted his head, looking at his eyes from beneath the brim of his hat.
“Listening, the sound is just a bit muffled,” Fan Jun smiled faintly. “I’ve seen a doctor about it. It’s neurological. When I’m under a lot of stress or haven’t slept well, it’ll…”
“Oh,” Zou Yang responded. Reaching back, he pulled out his phone, lowered his head, and started searching.
Neurological tinnitus.
Fan Jun shot a glance at his phone. When Zou Yang tapped the search bar, a neat row of “Detention Center XXX” search history popped up.
“If you… want to know, you can just ask me now,” Fan Jun said.
“Know what?” Zou Yang asked.
“Detention center yada yada,” Fan Jun said.
“…Damn,” Zou Yang laughed and turned to look at him. “I only searched that stuff while you were in there. Now that you’re out, what’s there to yada yada about.”
Fan Jun smiled and didn’t say anything. After a pause, he instructed, “Don’t tell Uncle Lü about my tinnitus.”
“Why?” Zou Yang asked.
“He always feels that because he found out too late, we missed the window for treatment,” Fan Jun said.
Zou Yang looked at him without speaking.
“My ear… my dad hit me before he left,” Fan Jun looked down at the skewer in his hand. “I couldn’t hear clearly right away. Uncle Lü and Aunt Li didn’t know… Later, when they realized my ear was injured and took me to the doctor, it was already untreatable.”
Zou Yang frowned.
“If he knows I have tinnitus, he’ll definitely blame himself again,” Fan Jun said.
“Got it,” Zou Yang said. “I won’t tell him.”
“Thank…”
“Shut up.”
After eating the barbecue, Fan Jun felt his ear was slightly better than before. Maybe it was because the food was satisfying, or maybe his mood was slowly lifting bit by bit.
He and Zou Yang walked one after the other up the steps back toward the sidewalk.
“Take a cab back?” Zou Yang asked from behind, his voice not loud.
But he heard it.
“Are you testing me?” Fan Jun asked. “We’ll just scan a bike and ride back in a bit.”
“Mm,” Zou Yang replied.
Back on the sidewalk, they each scanned a shared bike. As Fan Jun was getting ready to mount his, Zou Yang called out to him again from beside him: “Fan Jun.”
“I can hear you,” Fan Jun turned his head.
Zou Yang sat astride the bike, one leg propping him up on the ground, leaning slightly toward him.
He reached out, gently lifted the brim of Fan Jun’s hat, and looked into his eyes: “No matter what, things will get better little by little.”
“…Mm,” Fan Jun looked at him.
The feeling in that instant was hard to describe. He couldn’t even be sure what exactly Zou Yang’s words were referring to, but he still felt as if his body was suddenly enveloped by something warm.
He just stood there, looking at Zou Yang.
“What’s… wrong?” Zou Yang looked back at him.
“Nothing,” when Fan Jun spoke, he found his voice was a little hoarse again.
“Did I say something wrong?” Zou Yang got off the bike again.
“No,” Fan Jun said. “I don’t know… what to say.”
Zou Yang froze for a moment, then seemed to suddenly snap back to reality. Opening his arms, he stepped over, hugged him, and patted his back: “You don’t have to say anything.”
Fan Jun’s body stiffened for a second, his back abruptly straightening.
The last time Zou Yang hugged him, it was a textbook shoulder-throw takedown…
A solid embrace like this, an embrace where he could feel such intense comfort and reassurance—he hadn’t experienced one since Aunt Li passed away.
Before he could react, Zou Yang had already let go of him and patted his arm again: “It’s all good now.”
“Mm,” Fan Jun replied.
“Let’s go,” Zou Yang straddled the bike again, his foot stepping down toward where the pedal should be.
He stepped on empty air.
“Mm,” Fan Jun also got on his bike.
“You lead the way,” Zou Yang stepped down toward the pedal again.
He stepped on empty air again.
“You scanned a shared electric moped,” Fan Jun said.
“Huh?” Zou Yang looked at him.
“It has a footboard,” Fan Jun said.
Zou Yang glanced down out of the corner of his eye, suddenly realizing: “Oh!”
Then he quickly twisted the throttle and zipped forward.
“Wrong way!” Fan Jun shouted from behind.
“Fuck,” Zou Yang cursed under his breath, planted his foot on the ground, and executed a U-turn on the spot.
When they arrived back at the old gym, the aroma of the food in the kitchen could be smelled from outside the courtyard gate.
Before they even walked through the door, Monkey, Sun Xulei, and a bunch of other kids rushed out from the gym: “Brother Fan—”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Fan Jun quickly responded.
The iron chain on Xiaobai had been taken off, and it ran over too, squeezing past Monkey to rub frantically against Fan Jun’s body and legs, whining and acting spoiled through its nose.
The courtyard was a chaotic mess, and there was a dog too. Although Zou Yang wasn’t really afraid of Xiaobai anymore, he still ducked into the kitchen.
Laoma and Uncle Lü were busy working. The dishes had already been laid out on a table, and noodles were still boiling on the stove.
“So many dishes,” Zou Yang said.
“It’s a welcome-home meal, isn’t it,” Laoma said. “Don’t just stand there, do some work.”
“Ah, no need for him to work,” Uncle Lü said. “Everything’s already done.”
“At home he never sees any chores that need doing,” Laoma said. “But when he’s out…”
“If he doesn’t do chores at home, what chores do you expect him to do when he’s out,” Uncle Lü said, waving a hand at Zou Yang. “You go out and play first, come back in when it’s ready.”
“Mm.” Zou Yang turned around and walked out of the kitchen again.
Laoma‘s voice drifted out from the kitchen: “You’re always like this. You get to be the good guy.”
“I’m the good guy, but I also do the work,” Uncle Lü said. “It’s not like the little bit of work he’d do makes a difference, and he wouldn’t even know how to do it right anyway…”
“He has to learn precisely because he doesn’t know how,” Laoma said.
“Well, now isn’t the time to learn anyway,” Uncle Lü said.
“Oh, you…”
“Here, here, here, I’ll scoop the noodles…”
Zou Yang stood at the kitchen door, watching Fan Jun play fetch with Xiaobai.
The argument in the kitchen sounded both familiar and unfamiliar to him, bringing about a sense of emotion.
Laoba and Laoma used to fight over these things too, but the focus was different. Laoba wouldn’t speak up for him, nor would he change the subject; he just found it annoying that Laoma would nag endlessly about one little thing.
It was a difference that only the person involved could feel most acutely.
Listening to it left Zou Yang feeling an indescribable sense of melancholy.
Suddenly, the sound of Xiaobai panting came from beside him, followed by Fan Jun’s whistle.
Only then did Zou Yang realize that Xiaobai was standing next to him, holding the ball in its mouth, looking up with a face full of anticipation.
“Hey.” He jumped back in fright, pressing against the wall.
“Xiaobai!” Fan Jun called out.
Xiaobai kept looking at him, stomping its feet in anxiety while obeying Fan Jun’s command to slowly back up with small steps, its eyes full of pleading.
“You…” Zou Yang looked at Xiaobai.
“Bai! Come here!” Fan Jun called out again.
“Don’t yell,” Zou Yang gestured with his hand for Fan Jun to be quiet. “I…”
The moment he raised his hand, Fan Jun stopped talking, and Xiaobai immediately sat down properly and attentively.
“…Is this the hand signal for ‘sit’?” Zou Yang looked at Fan Jun in shock.
“Mm.” Fan Jun smiled. “Dog training master.”
“Damn,” Zou Yang smiled too. Gritting his teeth, he tentatively reached his hand out in front of Xiaobai. “Give… the ball to me.”
Xiaobai’s ears instantly perked up. It rushed over and carefully dropped the ball from its mouth onto his hand.
“Holy shit,” Zou Yang’s eyebrows scrunched together. “It’s wet.”
“It’s all its drool,” Fan Jun said.
“Xiaobai, fetch.” Zou Yang quickly threw the ball toward the other side of the courtyard.
Xiaobai let out a happy bark and lunged after the ball, flying through the air.
The old gym was very lively today. Because of this massive table of food, not a single kid had gone home; they were all squeezed around the dining table. Big-head Yu and Lao Si had also come over, along with the Iron Gang, Tan Ru, and two young students who had just finished training and stayed behind…
Lü Ze, who usually held his bowl and ate at the far end of the table away from everyone, was currently squeezed into the crowd as well.
No one specifically pressed Fan Jun about what happened. Anyway, there was food to eat, so they gathered together to eat.
Sitting next to the table, Zou Yang even felt a bit like it was the Chinese New Year.
Honestly, even his own home wasn’t this lively during the New Year.
Because Zou Yang had already eaten a round with Fan Jun, he didn’t need to participate in the scramble for food right now. Fan Jun even had time to take out his phone and reply to messages.
“Zou Yang,” while scrolling on his phone, he tilted his head and asked quietly, “did you draw that profile picture of yours yourself?”
“Mm,” Zou Yang nodded. “Why?”
“You know how to draw?” Fan Jun asked.
“What do you want drawn?” Zou Yang took a sip of his drink.
“Would it be troublesome to draw a profile picture?” Fan Jun looked down again at Zou Yang’s profile picture.
“The Yazi?” Zou Yang smiled.
“You can tell this is a Yazi?” Fan Jun asked.
“What else would it be,” Zou Yang said. “Body of a jackal, head of a dragon, holding a sword in its mouth, glaring fiercely…”
Fan Jun looked at him without saying anything.
“It’s usually used on the crossguards of swords and sabers, which is why it’s always holding a sword in its mouth,” Zou Yang said, mimicking the motion of drawing a sword. “Drawing the sword startles the White Emperor of the West, the ghostly mother wails in the autumn outskirts…”
Fan Jun still didn’t say anything.
“…What is it?” Zou Yang asked.
“Nothing,” Fan Jun smiled.
“Are you admiring me a little bit?” Zou Yang asked again.
“Mm,” Fan Jun smiled and nodded.