For several days in a row, He Chuan persistently messaged Fan Jun, asking him to come over and drink that burnt tea.

On days when he didn’t have treatment, Fan Jun wasn’t very willing to go over. He didn’t like drinking tea, and he didn’t have anything to talk about with He Chuan. The place was also far from Nanzhouping—it took nearly two hours to ride his electric scooter there, and that was assuming there was no traffic.

But it was also hard for him to just stay cooped up in the house.

In this space that was filled with both beauty and cruelty everywhere.

Every day, after finishing his rehabilitation training, which only took a little over an hour, he would spend the rest of the time sitting on the sofa, staring blankly.

His previous life hadn’t been incredibly rich either, but spending a whole day at the martial arts hall—teaching classes, watching people come and go, or even finding a corner to sleep—wasn’t like it was now. It wasn’t just simply having nothing to do.

It was anxiety and confusion.

Rehabilitation wasn’t something you could speed up just by gritting your teeth and enduring the pain. You could only endure it day by day, little by little, almost unable to feel any changes.

And compared to his arm, his left ear didn’t even have the opportunity for rehabilitation. He could only wait.

Wait for the day when the so-called “temporary” deafness would disappear.

But with every passing day, his hope was ground down a little more.

The phone was on the sofa. He reached out his left hand, slowly grasping the phone, slowly tightening his fingers. A dull pain quietly crawled through his muscles…

Xiao Bai padded over and opened its mouth to grab the phone.

“No, Xiao Bai. I’ll do it myself.” He used his right hand to pat Xiao Bai’s head.

Xiao Bai tilted its head in confusion, but eventually lay back down at his feet.

The phone was slowly lifted from the sofa. By comparison, when his right hand swiped the screen to unlock it, there was an ease and freedom he had never felt before.

To exercise his hand muscles, he didn’t let his right hand completely take over his left hand’s work, even if the left hand just acted as a phone stand. It was just that his wrist would twitch involuntarily when he bent it back.

He casually scrolled through the messages in his groups—the neighborhood community group, his classmates’ group. He clicked on every red dot to read them, watching other people’s ordinary, everyday lives.

When he returned to the home screen, he saw the map app icon.

He stared at the screen until it started to dim, and his wrist exceeded its load limit. Only then did he switch the phone to his right hand and gently tap open the map.

Since encountering the street view car at Zou Yang’s school last time, he hadn’t opened the map to see if the car had captured the two of them.

He didn’t dare to.

He didn’t know why.

He was afraid of seeing those frozen moments of happiness, as if they had been left right there, trapped in a certain day in the past.

While time continued to march forward.

After opening the map, he poked around for a long time before finding the street view mode.

Seeing a picture suddenly appear in the middle of the map, his heartbeat quickened.

He tried tapping it, and the picture instantly zoomed in. It was his familiar Nanzhouping, the street downstairs. At a glance, he even saw the breakfast shop he passed by every day.

Looking at this familiar scene gave him a wondrous feeling of traveling through time and space.

He tapped the directional arrows twice and saw even more familiar streets. Da Tou Yu’s courier station was up ahead. Moving the viewing angle by tapping the screen, he could see the station piled high with packages.

Zooming in, he could even see the back of Da Tou Yu’s head.

Fan Jun stared blankly for a long time. He slowly moved forward on the map, click by click—turning corners, going straight, then turning into the next small street, bit by bit until he reached the entrance of the old martial arts hall.

When the view turned into the courtyard of the old hall, he saw Xiao Bai sitting upright in front of the doghouse.

Its ears were pricked up straight, its eyes bright.

He moved his gaze away from the screen, looked down at Xiao Bai lying at his feet, and reached out his left hand to gently touch its head.

Xiao Bai gave a soft hum and quickly licked the back of his hand.

He felt nothing. The area on the back of his hand that was licked was numb, devoid of any tactile sensation. Besides the back of his hand, there were several other spots on his arm that also had no feeling.

He usually wouldn’t notice it, but once he did, the momentary sense of loss was hard to describe.

He leaned back into the sofa, exited the street view of Nanzhouping, and slowly dragged the map with his finger. He didn’t want to search for the address directly; he just wanted to follow that day’s route with his eyes.

It was quite a long way, but on the map, it only took a few swipes to get there.

He clicked to open the street view.

When the main gate of Zou Yang’s school suddenly appeared on the screen, Fan Jun felt his breathing pause.

He slowly moved, getting closer to the spot where they had waited for the car that day. Step by step, the images constantly switched, finally stopping at the exact place they had stood.

Fan Jun’s finger hovered in the air above the screen, stopped.

…There was nothing.

No Zou Yang.

No Fan Jun.

No one.

Only then did he notice a tiny capture date in the bottom left corner of the image—it was from five years ago.

He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

Five years was a very distant “past.”

At that time, he was the same age Zou Yang was now, having already helped Uncle Lu at the martial arts hall for over half a year. And Zou Yang… was only a junior high school student.

He smiled.

His nose suddenly stung, and before he could react, his eyes burned fiercely. Uncontrollably, tears dripped onto the screen.

He tossed the phone aside, lowered his head, and buried his face in his arms.

Compared to his silent tearing up that day, this time was a true, long-overdue crying.

He had almost forgotten what it felt like to cry.

When his right ear caught the muffled sounds of his own weeping, he even felt a sense of unfamiliarity.

That kind of helpless, bewildered, and aggrieved sobbing roar—he had never heard it before.

“Weren’t you supposed to go for rehab today?” Uncle Lu was eating noodles in the kitchen and paused when he saw Fan Jun walk in.

“The appointment is at 2:30. I’ll bring Xiao Bai over first.” Fan Jun sat down at the table.

The old martial arts hall was basically empty now. The students who could move to the new-new hall had already gone over; the remaining ones were just kids from the neighborhood. During class hours, the old hall was completely silent.

Uncle Lu could cook a few decent dishes, but the bowl of noodles he was eating right now was extremely haphazard, just barely edible.

“Have you eaten lunch?” Uncle Lu asked.

“No, I’ll just grab something random at the intersection later,” Fan Jun said.

“You can’t be too casual about it, you need to ensure your protein intake. It’s good for your recovery,” Uncle Lu said. “How has your arm been these past few days?”

Fan Jun remained silent for a while before saying quietly, “No progress. Slower than the training plan the doctor gave…”

“It’s fine, that’s how it is with injuries. Sometimes it’s fast, sometimes…” Uncle Lu patted his shoulder.

“I might just… be like this forever.” Fan Jun said.

Ten days ago, he still held onto a sliver of hope. But now, facing a rehab with no visible progress, he had to start preparing himself for that hope to fall through.

“Don’t say that. How long has it been? Not even half a year yet,” Uncle Lu said.

“…Yeah.” Fan Jun twitched the corner of his mouth.

After coming out of the rehabilitation hospital in the afternoon, he went to He Chuan’s shop.

He needed a distraction. Being alone was truly becoming too hard to bear; the lonelier he got, the more despairing he felt.

Moreover, he sensed that He Chuan constantly asking him to come over probably meant there was something going on. After all, having taken his classes for so long, the guy had never been this enthusiastic and always complained that the training intensity was too high for him to handle.

“You finally came!” He Chuan walked in from the back door of the small shop. “If you didn’t come, I’d really think you didn’t see me as a friend.”

“Aren’t we master and disciple?” Fan Jun found a chair and sat down.

“Both teacher and friend,” He Chuan handed a bamboo tube to him. “Smell it.”

Fan Jun took a sniff: “Incense?”

“I made it myself,” He Chuan pointed to the back door. “The courtyard out back is my studio.”

“You make incense too?” Fan Jun was somewhat surprised.

“Just a hobby. I don’t sell it either, just give some away when I meet a customer I hit it off with,” He Chuan capped the incense tube. “I’ll give this to you.”

Fan Jun didn’t decline and took it: “Thanks.”

“Have a cup of tea?” He Chuan walked towards the tea table. “Got some Bingdao tea, it’s not the one my sister burnt.”

“Mm.” Fan Jun got up, walked over, and sat down.

“How’s the arm?” He Chuan asked while boiling water.

“Same old.” Fan Jun said.

“No effect?” He Chuan asked.

“Mm.” Fan Jun replied.

“Want to try some acupuncture to go with it?” He Chuan asked, “I know an old practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine…”

“Are you looking for me for a specific reason?” Fan Jun interrupted him.

He Chuan clicked his tongue and laughed: “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.” Fan Jun nodded.

“It’s nothing huge,” He Chuan pried the tea cake apart. “I have low EQ and speak bluntly, so don’t mind me.”

“If it’s really that low, you don’t have to speak at all.” Fan Jun said.

“Fuck,” He Chuan laughed, “You really… I just wanted to ask, would you be willing to come help me out here?”

Fan Jun froze, looking at him without saying a word.

“It’s just, you see your situation right now—your arm is ruined, and it seems your ear is serious too,” He Chuan said. “You’re still in rehab, and you can’t really do anything else… You’ve always been a coach, right? Now you can’t be a coach either…”

Fan Jun kept looking at him.

He Chuan’s self-awareness was quite accurate. His words were so blunt they could stab a person right in the heart.

Even when haggling over prices, people weren’t this ruthless.

Fan Jun even felt a little like laughing.

“My place here is actually quite suitable for you,” He Chuan said. “My sister and I have several shops. Although we’ve hired people, it’s still quite strenuous. Especially… you know how to drive, right? I have to run out of town often to collect old antiques in the countryside, which is pretty dangerous. I’ve been robbed before, otherwise, why would I have gone to your classes…”

“Bodyguard and driver?” Fan Jun couldn’t hold back and asked.

“Hiring a dedicated bodyguard and driver wouldn’t be cost-effective for me,” He Chuan said. “When we’re not running out of town, you can help me keep an eye on the shop here. To be honest, everything I have here is genuine, good stuff. We have a wide variety, and the prices aren’t low. The people who play with these things and are willing to spend money are quite… If you just stand right here, it can avoid a lot of trouble.”

“Aren’t you supposed to make money through amiability? You’re doing business and want a thug standing in the shop?” Fan Jun said.

“What thug? Don’t say that,” He Chuan looked a bit embarrassed.

“I wasn’t the one who said it.” Fan Jun said.

He Chuan smiled and didn’t continue on that topic, pouring him a cup of tea. “Try it.”

Fan Jun picked up the cup and took a sip.

“How is it?” He Chuan asked.

“Very fragrant.” Fan Jun said.

“I mean about the job, how about it?” He Chuan said.

Fan Jun silently drank his tea.

Actually, although He Chuan’s words stabbed straight into his wounds without holding back, what he said was the truth—the truth that plagued Fan Jun every single day.

He needed money, and right now he couldn’t make any.

And if his ear and arm stayed like this, it wouldn’t be easy to make money in the future either.

“Salary? Working hours and all that?” Fan Jun put down his teacup.

“Easy!” He Chuan happily poured him another cup of tea. “How much were you making at the martial arts hall?”

“Five, six, seven, eight thousand.” Fan Jun said.

“…Is the range that big?” He Chuan was momentarily stunned.

“Mm.” Fan Jun nodded.

“Five, six, seven, eight… I definitely can’t give you eight thousand,” He Chuan said. “Let’s say five thousand. In this trade city, that’s absolutely a high price. You can live in my shop, so you won’t need to rent an apartment. You can bring the dog too, there’s space in the courtyard. As for meals, when I’m at the shop, we can eat together.”

Fan Jun didn’t say anything, mentally calculating his expenses.

“If you go out with me, or later when you’re experienced enough to go yourself,” He Chuan looked at him, “there will be extra subsidies. Selling things in the shop won’t count towards commission; it doesn’t matter whether you manage to sell them or not.”

Fan Jun glanced at him, still saying nothing, not having figured out the calculations in his head yet.

“Still not enough?” He Chuan poured him more tea. “It’s very relaxing, you know.”

“If it’s very relaxing, why do you need to hire someone.” Fan Jun said.

“It’s relaxing for you! It’s not relaxing for me, I have several shops and have to run back and forth,” He Chuan stood up and sat directly next to him. “Coach Fan, seriously, this is us helping each other out. I really can’t find anyone suitable.”

Fan Jun felt he could give it a try. He could worry about calculating the exact money later; he just desperately needed an income, a life that looked normal, and a busyness that would stop him from repeatedly sinking into despairing thoughts every day.

“You can try it out first. If you have any demands, you can bring them up later, everything is negotiable.” He Chuan could see that he genuinely needed such an assistant.

“I still have to go for treatments.” Fan Jun said.

“No problem. Just tell me when you need to go for treatment. If there’s no one else in the shop, you can just lock up and go,” He Chuan said. “How about it?”

“…I’ll come next week.” Fan Jun said.

“I’ve booked the place,” Li Zhiyue looked down at his phone. “We’ll head straight there after class tomorrow.”

“Mm,” Zou Yang responded. “You didn’t invite anyone else, right?”

“If you’re not inviting anyone, then there’s no one else,” Li Zhiyue said. “Just the four of us.”

“I… don’t have anyone left to invite.” Zou Yang said.

Liu Wenrui turned to look at him.

“What are you looking at.” Zou Yang didn’t look at him, pushed his glasses up, and stared at the teacher in front who was lecturing with great intoxication.

Scar literature.

Stream of consciousness technique.

“You’re not inviting Fan Jun?” Liu Wenrui asked in a low voice. “It’s not like you two… broke up. Even if it is a… breakup, it was peaceful…”

“I’m not inviting him.” Zou Yang answered very simply.

“Got it.” Liu Wenrui didn’t say anything more.

Zou Yang watched the teacher, continuously spinning his phone in his hand.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about whether to invite Fan Jun.

But in the end, he had given up on the idea.

For the last message he sent to Fan Jun, Fan Jun had waited two days before replying with an “Mm.”

It basically served the purpose of telling him not to worry, with no intention of continuing the conversation.

Whether willing or unwilling, Zou Yang could sense Fan Jun’s rejection. Forcing a meeting for any reason at a time like this would just be too awkward.

And he clearly knew that while Fan Jun asked for time, he himself also needed to give Fan Jun time.

He could recklessly throw himself at him.

Fan Jun couldn’t do the same.

It was just…

It was torturous.

“Are you still going home tonight?” Liu Wenrui stood at the school gate, shoving a bag of his dirty laundry into Zou Yang’s backpack.

“Yeah. I keep feeling like my mom’s mood hasn’t been right these past few days,” Zou Yang said. “I’ll go back and keep her company.”

“Bring me a piece of lava cheese from that newly opened baking studio of yours tomorrow,” Liu Wenrui said. “I need to stock up on autumn fat.”

“You’ve been stocking up since summer vacation, how much fat is enough?” Zou Yang glanced at his waist.

“Don’t run your mouth, just do as I say.” Liu Wenrui said.

When he returned home and opened the door, Zou Yang smelled the aroma of food.

Ever since he was discharged from the hospital and came home, his mom basically hadn’t left the house. Aside from accompanying him to the hospital for check-ups, she stayed home every day.

Whenever Zou Yang came home on weekends, he could see his mom and eat the food she cooked.

A long-lost feeling of home.

But very quickly, he sensed something was off.

His mom was becoming increasingly silent, her complexion wasn’t good, she frequently spaced out, and she would zone out mid-conversation. She would scroll through short videos all night long.

Every time Zou Yang woke up startled in the middle of the night, he could hear the sound of videos coming from his mom’s bedroom.

As he changed his shoes and entered the house, he smelled a burnt scent mixed in with the aroma of the food.

“Mom!” Zou Yang ran into the kitchen. “What burnt?”

“Oh! The meat I’m braising!” His mom was standing in front of the stove holding a spatula. Only when she heard him yell did she abruptly lift the pot lid, muttering softly, “Oh my, the water all dried up… How can we eat this… I even specifically bought this meat…”

“It’s fine, it only burnt just as I walked in.” Zou Yang went over, took the spatula, and scooped the meat out. “We can just bite off the burnt parts when we eat.”

“Mm.” His mom patted him. “Let me do it, I’ll stir-fry some greens and then we can eat.”

Zou Yang walked out of the kitchen, stood in the living room for a moment, and quickly walked into his mom’s bedroom.

He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he faintly felt he would find something.

He opened the drawer of the nightstand and took a look; there were some common medicines.

Then he opened the small cabinet below.

It was filled with folders. Zou Yang pulled them out and looked through them. They were all his—past medical records, various documents from his recent injury, and all the receipts for his psychological treatments after being discharged, all sorted and filed.

As he put the folders back, he noticed a medicine box standing upright, pressed tightly against the side of the cabinet.

He took it out and gave it a quick glance.

Escitalopram oxalate.

There was a line of small text underneath.
—Indications: Treatment of depression.

“Xiao Yang—” his mom called him from the kitchen. “Time to eat, come bring the dishes out—”

“Coming!” Zou Yang shouted back, hurriedly put the medicine back, and turned to run to the kitchen.

“Should I steam a meat patty?” His mom asked. “That braised meat got burnt.”

“No need, only a little bit of it burnt,” Zou Yang carried the meat out. “It’s just the two of us, we can’t eat that much anyway.”

“Maybe I’m just getting old,” his mom sighed. “I might be too used to cooking big-pot meals before, now that the portions are smaller it’s like I don’t know how to cook anymore. My brain just can’t switch gears…”

“It’s just habit, everyone’s like that,” Zou Yang said. “How old are you anyway? I’m only twenty.”

His mom smiled: “Where are you going to play with them for your birthday tomorrow?”

“I don’t know yet, they’re arranging it, I’m just following along.” Zou Yang hesitated, looking at his mom. “How about… you come hang out with us?”

“Oh my, let’s just drop it, I’m not going,” his mom waved her hand dismissively. “Who ever heard of four big young men bringing a mom along for a birthday.”

Zou Yang didn’t say anything more. He picked up a piece of the braised meat with his chopsticks and buried his head in his food.

“You’re still not sleeping well these nights, right?” His mom asked. “Do you want to go see the doctor again?”

“No need, it’s a process,” Zou Yang smiled.

“Why have you been coming home so often these past couple of days?” His mom looked at him.

“You’re home, so I want to come back.” Zou Yang said.

“Don’t keep running back here,” his mom said. “The doctor said you should spend more time with your classmates and friends.”

“Mm.” Zou Yang responded.

He really wanted to ask his mom if she and Uncle Lu truly weren’t going to reconcile anymore, but he was afraid of poking at her sad spots and didn’t dare to casually bring it up.

After finishing his meal, he sat on the sofa zoning out for a while, grabbed his phone, and sent a message to Liu Wenrui.

[Zou yang]: After the first class tomorrow, I’m going to Nanzhouping
[Ruisibai]: ??? So fierce
[Zou yang]: To look for Uncle Lu
[Ruisibai]: Fuck, isn’t that even fiercer, going straight to the parents
[Zou yang]: Get lost