Perhaps because the starlight was too bright tonight, Shu Dong's eyes looked exceptionally beautiful. Still immersed in his tenderness, she could never see how hurriedly the person behind her was walking away.
If a man truly loves you, even if the road is ten kilometers long, he will walk it with you. He will not let you walk the night path alone, let alone a journey of just a few minutes.
Therefore, girls should not be too understanding. Act spoiled in moderation, throw the occasional petty tantrum, and let him know you exist and care about you.
Yet these lessons were things Shu Dong would never learn in this lifetime, nor would she ever understand them.
The breeze at past ten o'clock at night was pleasant, but the further ahead they walked, the dimmer the lights became. When she reached the downstairs of her building, a single streetlamp stood right there.
Shu Dong walked slowly toward it, stopped by the utility pole, and silently stared at the missing person poster pasted upon it.
She stared at it for a full five minutes.
"Zhao Yingxia, female..."
The sudden voice startled Shu Dong. She turned hastily, her eyes catching a black ear stud first...
He was still reading.
"68 years old, suffering from Alzheimer's disease, lost on Changfeng Road on July 11th, wearing a red short-sleeve shirt and black trousers. If any kind-hearted person sees her, please contact the following phone number and address. Thank you."
A missing person notice filled with sincere emotion was read by Song Feng as blandly as plain water. After finishing, he lowered his head to look at her. It wasn't his fault for appearing so suddenly; she had simply been too absorbed in looking.
Not long after they had left, Song Feng had lost interest and left with Chen Hui. Having just turned into this street, he saw someone standing motionless under the light in the distance, and only upon getting closer did he realize it was her.
Thinking she couldn't read, Song Feng simply decided to play the good guy.
Her panic lasted only a moment. Under the lamplight, Shu Dong's pale face wore her usual expressionless mask, carrying an extra touch of chill as she faced Song Feng.
"Didn't he walk you back?" Song Feng's tone was breezy.
Shu Dong raised her head and met his gaze directly: "You treated me that way because of him."
She rarely showed such directness. Shu Dong, who was always calm and silent in front of everyone else, unconsciously grew a bit sharp when facing Song Feng.
She couldn't even sense it herself.
Song Feng's casual expression froze for a fraction of a second. He hadn't expected her to figure things out and spell it out to him so quickly.
The black ear stud remained hidden in the night. Song Feng lowered his gaze to look at her: "You aren't a match."
Under the glaring white light, he was dressed all in black, and she in white. The distance between them was very close, blending right into the earthly bustle of the old street. Standing face to face, neither of them answered the other's question.
Shu Dong suddenly laughed. It looked carefree, but it faintly concealed sadness: "I've heard that phrase many times before."
"He isn't good enough for you."
The cold smile at the corner of Shu Dong's lips had not yet completely vanished, freezing right there on her face. His dark eyes shone brightly, different from how they had looked in the afternoon and evening... Suddenly, she didn't understand anymore.
After a moment of stalemate, Shu Dong turned and left.
Watching her back, Song Feng couldn't help smiling again. He was no good guy, but he wasn't a villain either; rescuing a young girl who had strayed blindly into the net of romance was still within his capabilities.
His hand brushed against the scorched spot on the chest of his T-shirt. He touched it, and a sudden thought crossed his mind...
Well, that seemed to be his first kiss.
The streetlamps ahead grew scarcer. Chewing his gum, Song Feng vanished alone into the night.
Right at noon, Chen Hui rode his electric scooter straight from West Street to Liu Alley, driving the little battery-powered bike with the sheer momentum of a Ferrari. Trudging up the stairs to the third floor, he discovered that Boss Song was actually in the shop.
"You've stayed here longer these past few days than you did in the entire past half year." Chen Hui walked over to the air conditioner, lifted his shirt to reveal a patch of abdominal muscles, and adjusted the louvers to blow right at him. "My mother stewed a duck this morning, saying duck blood clears the lungs. I just brought that pot of old duck soup to your place, thinking you'd be home."
Song Feng was lounging in a chair, his two long legs propped up on the table, holding a game console in his hands: "Thank Auntie for me."
Chen Hui said, "What's to thank? You're practically her own son."
Song Feng smiled, said nothing more, and went back to being engrossed in his Super Mario.
He and Chen Hui had met in high school. At first, they had definitely looked at each other with mutual disdain, even getting into two fights before somehow managing to fight their way into a bond.He had originally thought that since he and Chen Hui spent whole days together goofing off and doing nothing proper, Aunt Wu would scold him on sight. But he never expected... that she truly treated him like her own son.
Later on, when he set up this internet cafe, although he had a little money of his own, it was only enough to rent a place. He had taken some from home, borrowed from bad company, and yet the ones who helped him the most were Chen Hui's family.
Song Feng lowered his legs, put the handheld console down on the table, and pulled an envelope out of the drawer. "Take this back for Aunt Wu."
"What is this?" Chen Hui was standing with his back to Song Feng, enjoying the air conditioning. Turning his head and catching sight of the envelope in Song Feng's hand, he understood immediately. Now that most of his sweat had dried, he pulled a chair over and sat down beside Song Feng. "Pay the others back first, my family doesn't need it right now."
Song Feng did not take it back. "Take it."
Among adults, borrowing money strained relationships the most, especially given how good Aunt Wu had been to their family.
"Come to my house for dinner tonight and give it to her yourself. Who knows, maybe when my mom sees you, she'll be so happy she'll take a bit less." Chen Hui rolled his undershirt up a little at a time, revealing his pale, soft belly.
When Chen Hui refused to take it, Song Feng threw it straight into his lap.
"Yo, it actually has some weight to it." The corner of the envelope poked Chen Hui, who rubbed the spot and then casually tossed it back onto the table. "My mom gave me the day off today, so I came over for a free ride."To chase a mushroom, Mario plummeted off the cliff yet again. Song Feng tossed the handheld console in front of Chen Hui. "Knock yourself out."
"I wouldn't touch your... console with a ten-foot pole." Little smart-aleck Chen Hui stood up and gave Boss Song's head a reassuring pat. He was suddenly distracted by the prickly feel of Song Feng's buzz cut. "Maybe I should go get a buzz cut sometime too? It'd probably look pretty sharp."
"What you're lacking isn't the hairstyle, it's Brother Feng's face," one of the younger guys nearby ruthlessly pointed out.
"Tsk, looking for trouble, are you?" That remark struck a raw nerve. Chen Hui looked around the room. "Did the sun rise in the west today? How come nobody's smoking?"
No wonder it had felt different the moment he walked in. Usually, the place was practically shrouded in a smokescreen. The only time Boss Song ever reined them in was on busy weekends; the rest of the time, he just let them hotbox each other.
"Brother Feng said it messes with his quit-attempt, so no smoking allowed from now on," another guy chimed in, having just lost a match and stepped away from the screen to chat with Chen Hui.
Chen Hui wasn't phased in the least. "What number attempt is this?"In the second row on the left, a younger guy with dyed green hair and a non-mainstream look thought about it for a moment and said, "Seems like it's one hundred and seventy-four."
"Keep track, everyone. We might even hit three hundred this year."
Everyone in this room looked like they were in middle or high school, and they mostly knew each other. After all, birds of a feather flock together—even the ones whose homes were on the east side of town crossed oceans just to come here and surf the net.
Besides, the sea here in Hecheng was only so big, and there were only these few streets anyway.
Boss Song remained engrossed in his battered little handheld game console, paying no mind to his brothers' rebellious antics.
It was very hot today. Song Feng didn't open the window, but he habitually glanced down at the downstairs. There wasn't a single soul in the alley.
Having sat for a long time, Song Feng stood up and stretched lazily. He wore a black T-shirt identical in style to yesterday's, except there was no scorched hole on it this time. He was always too lazy to pick out clothes, simply grabbing a few pieces at a time and wearing them through the entire summer.
As he stretched his arms upward, the T-shirt rode up with them, faintly revealing a hint of sexy abdominal muscles and his belly button. As his arms lowered, the clothes fell back into place.
Not quite satisfied.
Boss Song was wearing flashy red athletic pants today, along with low-top black canvas shoes that left his ankles exposed, his entire frame exuding the bony lines and strength typical of a young man.
"What were they doing when you went to my house just now?" Song Feng gazed out the window, staring blankly at the old willow tree. Chen Hui was sitting in the first row, relatively close by.
"When I got there, Grandpa Meng was reading a book, and those kids showed up shortly after." Chen Hui logged into his account and first claimed his daily quests and rewards. "Grandma is in a rush to go out and play matchmaker for someone."
Song Feng frowned, took out his phone, and dialed a number, though it rang for a while before the other end picked up.
"Xiaofeng, I'm busy right now. Grandma will call you back later." On the other end of the line, Grandma Song was just about to step into the prospective groom's house.
"It's the middle of the day, why aren't you resting at home instead of running out to get heatstroke?" Song Feng touched the glass pane; it was already quite warm.
"Grandma knows her own body. I'm not talking to you anymore, be a good boy!"
Just like that, the call was disconnected. Song Feng looked at his phone screen and let out an internal sigh. At her age, who was the one not being a good boy, he wondered.
"Keep an eye on things, I'm heading out for a bit." Song Feng prepared to go downstairs."Wait." Chen Hui pulled off the headphones hanging around his neck, took two steps forward, and pulled Song Feng back. "Grandma is a grown-up, and she definitely has other people with her. What are you worrying about?"
Song Feng glanced at Chen Hui. "I'm just idle here."
"Tend to your own shop! I came here to play games today." Chen Hui sat back down. In the game, the parachute had already dropped, and a red-haired character stood foolishly motionless on the road. "Grandma's health is really quite good. Just last night she went running with my mum. Have you ever seen anyone nearly seventy years old with such a good mindset?"
Song Feng lowered his head, lost in thought.
"Besides, the old lady enjoys it, so just let her do it." For five minutes, Chen Hui hadn't picked up a single gun, and this ghost town didn't look like anyone was there. He glanced sideways at Song Feng, who was still standing in place. "I think Grandpa's health has been pretty good lately too. He's retired and has nothing to do. Unlike Grandma, he doesn't like going out to join the bustle. He stays home all day reading and playing chess—he'll get sick from sheer boredom. It's just the summer holidays, so let these kids make some noise."
Song Feng had already sat back down. The huge monitor blocked him entirely, and Chen Hui could only catch a glimpse of his flashy red sweatpants through the gap.
Looking back at the computer screen, his character had already collapsed to the ground, taking damage from the shrinking zone until it died. He simply slumped in his chair and continued arguing with Boss Song.
"People aren't that fragile. Don't be so sensitive." Chen Hui paused, turning surprisingly serious. "It'll put a burden on them."
Behind the display screen, Song Feng gazed at the old willow tree outside the window. Hearing Chen Hui's words, his eyes flickered slightly. What worried him most wasn't Grandma, but Grandpa.
Grandma's health had always been very good, but Grandpa never went a single season without medicine. He had been born with a relatively weak constitution. When she was young, Grandma had loved playing matchmaker, and she still did now. Whether a match succeeded or not, she wouldn't take a single penny—she just did it for the joy of it. Grandpa had been a teacher his whole life, and in the years since his retirement, he would sometimes tutor students right at home.
A month ago, someone had come looking for tutoring again, but Song Feng refused flatly, afraid that Grandpa would overwork himself.
It wasn't that he hadn't considered what Chen Hui was saying, but he didn't know... what was best for them.
Two or three hours later, Grandma Song called to say she was already home. After hanging up, Song Feng got on his bicycle and headed back.
The building was an old-style residential block on the ground floor. The moment Song Feng opened the door, he caught the rich aroma of old duck soup.
"You're back!" Grandma Song came out of the kitchen carrying a pot.
"Yeah." Song Feng came in and didn't see the group of students. "Finished for today?"
"A few of the kids had things to do today, so they left early." Wearing his reading glasses, Grandpa Meng was reading a book in a bamboo chair—an old, well-worn copy of *Dream of the Red Chamber*.
Barely a minute inside, Song Feng was already hot enough to crave a cold shower. When he wasn't home, the air conditioner was completely useless; whenever he told them to turn it on, they would say they were afraid the chill would be too much for their bodies.
He knew they were just worried about the electricity bill.
"You'll end up making the kids sick from the heat." Song Feng picked up the air conditioning remote and turned it on.
Grandpa Meng put down his book and smiled. "I only turned it off after they left. There's still coolness in the room."
Coolness? Song Feng was almost angry enough to laugh. The older people got, the more like children they became; they had even learned how to quibble.
Grandma Song dished out three bowls of soup and went back to the kitchen for three spoons. "Look at your grandpa. When Xiaohui brought the soup over, I was in a hurry to leave, and he didn't even put it in the fridge. Such a big man and he can't even take care of himself. What's he going to do if I go first one day?"
"What are you saying?" Song Feng looked up, his face expressionless.
"Never mind, never mind, drink your soup!" Grandma Song fished a piece of meat out of the pot and put it into Grandpa Meng's and Song Feng's bowls. "Aunt Wu really knows how to cook."
As he drank his soup, Song Feng noticed that Grandma's face was a little red. He lowered his head and spoke slowly, "It's not that I don't want you doing these things, but it's over thirty degrees outside now—wouldn't five or six o'clock be better? The air conditioner's only needed for these few months out of the year. How much electricity could it possibly use?"
Grandpa Meng smiled with grandfatherly kindness and suddenly coughed twice. "Your grandmother and I are getting old; we can't take the chill."
Song Feng's ears had grown calloused from hearing these words.
"Xiaopao, your grandpa's generation and mine have known hardship. We survived the famine; how many people didn't do hard physical labor back then? Even though we're old now, we aren't going to collapse outside just from walking a few steps. It's only your grandpa who's had a weak constitution since childhood and went to study instead, so he managed to do less heavy work than the rest of us."
Come to think of it, Chen Hui seemed to have truly inherited Grandma Song's traits.
"How is that any less than what you did..."
As the two of them chatted on about the past, Song Feng listened to them bickering, leaned back against the sofa, and closed his eyes, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Grandpa Meng—named Meng Heran—was, much like his name, fair and very thin. He contended for nothing, remained indifferent to fame and wealth, disliked joining in the bustle, and kept whatever was on his mind to himself, preferring not to talk much. Most of the time, he had his nose in a book. Grandma Song was the exact opposite: she wanted to know about everything and had a warm, helpful heart.
Grandma Song was two years older than Grandpa Meng. When she said just now that Grandpa couldn't take care of himself, truth be told, it was all because Grandma had spoiled him rotten.
To describe Grandma's care for Grandpa in a single word, it would be "cherish."
Grandma Song cherished Grandpa Meng deeply.
Back then, there were many brothers and sisters in the family, and Grandma had only made it to the second grade of primary school before dropping out. But she couldn't be kept down; she was smart. Whenever she didn't recognize a character while watching television, she would ask Grandpa Meng. By now, there wasn't a single character she didn't know—not only did she recognize them all, but she could write them too.
And Grandpa Meng had been frail since childhood, with the conditions of that era being far from ideal. Through all these years, although he had never suffered from any major illnesses, minor ailments were constant. Out of a deep tenderness for the hands that wrote and read, Grandma had never allowed him to do heavy labor.
The two of them had stumbled and bumped their way right up to the present.
Grandma Song cleared away the bowls, her movements suddenly slowing as if struck by a thought. "Xiaofeng, tomorrow is your dad's birthday. Let's go to the back mountain early in the morning to burn some paper money."
The smile at the corner of Song Feng's mouth suddenly stiffened. He slowly opened his eyes, looking at his grandparents—who were deliberately pretending nothing was wrong—while his hands unconsciously clenched together. "Is my mum coming?"
Grandma Song, bowl in hand, paused on her way to the kitchen, then turned back to look at Song Feng with a face full of forced smiles. "Your mum has things to take care of at home, so she won't be coming."
***
Song Feng didn't go back to the internet cafe. That night, he stayed in the living room with his grandparents for a long time, watching Chinese opera.
When he lay down in bed at midnight, he didn't feel the least bit sleepy.
The curtains were half-drawn, and starlight mixed with moonlight spilled across the floorboards in front of the window. Resting his head on one arm, Song Feng stared blankly out into the night sky.
His dad had passed away when he was eight years old—a soldier, a pilot who had suffered an accident during a training flight, leaving behind no body.
His mum had remarried. She would come back once a year, neither close nor distant, but no matter what, she belonged to someone else's family now.
He had an address and a phone number.
He had looked at the address many times, but he had never gone there even once. He had also looked at the phone number many times; it was already burned into his heart, but he had never dialed it.
From time to time, the sound of coughing drifted over from the next room. It was very soft, but in the night, it sounded exceptionally clear.
Song Feng didn't harbor any excessive emotions toward his parents because the time they had spent together was simply too short. He just... couldn't set his mind at ease regarding the two old folks next door.
The back mountain was connected to the park. In recent years, it had been quite well-maintained, with very neat stone steps leading up to a temple at the very peak. Grandma Song came here year after year to burn incense, praying for Grandpa Meng's good health, praying for Song Feng to get into a good university, and praying for the safety of the whole family.
They stayed on the mountain for two hours, then walked back down the steps to stroll through the park.
In July, everything was lush and verdant. As far as the eye could see, there was a vast expanse of green. The air was fresh, and their moods weren't so heavy either. Song Feng followed closely behind them, walking at a leisurely pace.
"Xiaofeng, why don't you go on to the shop? Your grandfather and I will be heading back shortly," Grandma Song said, turning around to face him.
Song Feng looked at them calmly, his expression no different than usual. He took a step forward and continued following. "Chen Hui is there today."
"Xiaohui is a good kid." With his hands clasped behind his back, Grandpa Meng gazed out at the lake ahead, wearing his usual kind and gentle expression, as if he had seen through all the ways of the world. "It's been a long time since we came here with your grandmother. We'll walk a bit more; you go tend to your business."
Was this him being told he was an eyesore?
Seeing that they were fine, Song Feng didn't insist further. "It's hot, so don't walk too long. I'll be home for lunch at noon."
"Got it. Watch the road when you're riding your bike."
These few streets of Hecheng were entirely manageable by bicycle; it should take about an hour to go from the east side of the city to the west.
Today was Sunday, and there weren't many people out in the morning. When Song Feng returned to the shop, sure enough, there were only seven or eight people inside. He glanced at the clock on the wall—it was just ten o'clock, and Chen Hui was probably still sleeping.