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When the bell rang for the end of lessons, Chu Yi was just staring out the window and spacing out. He had been looking forward to this bell all morning—it didn’t take him a single second to pull his soul back from wandering afar.
The teacher didn’t extend the lesson, waving them off and ending the class.
But when Chu Yi wanted to get up, he didn’t succeed. As if it was glued, the chair didn’t move in the slightest.
He turned his head and saw Li Zihao sitting behind with a hint of a smile hanging on the corner of his lips. He moved his gaze downwards. Li Zihao’s foot was pressing against his chair.
“Why aren’t you leaving?” Li Zihao looked at him. “You seem in a hurry to me.”
Chu Yi didn’t speak. He only turned back and continued to sit in his chair.
“Go on then,” Li Zihao said gleefully. “What are you sitting there spacing out for? Looks to me like lately, you’ve…”
The students in the rows in front rose and left. Chu Yi simply pushed his desk forward, stood, and walked towards the door.
Li Zihao’s foot went flying; the friction between the chair leg and the floor produced a sharp noise.
“Stop right there!” This greatly embarrassed Li Zihao. He slammed the table and leapt to his feet.
Chu Yi didn’t even look back. He lifted his legs and dashed forward.
In a cloud of smoke, he ran downstairs; in a cloud of smoke, he ran out the school gate.
Today went quite smoothly. He wasn’t stopped by anyone in the course of his escape.
After running a whole stretch, he finally slowed down—though he was still faster than his normal speed going home because today he’d promised Yan Hang that he’d go to his place for lunch.
He wanted to make it there before Yan Hang began preparing lunch. That way, he would be able to watch Yan Hang work.
He liked to watch the smooth, natural way Yan Hang prepared food, like flowing clouds and water; it was very cool. If Yan Hang was live-streaming, he could also lean over and show his face—perhaps he could even win some popularity for the never-had-been has-been masked foodie live-streamer.
He had just turned onto the street when his phone suddenly rang.
Chu Yi took the phone out. When he saw that it was Mum’s number, he instantly felt depressed.
His phone probably sensed his depression too: he had to swipe at least eighty times—the ringing had almost stopped by the time it connected.
“You’re done with school, aren’t you,” Mum’s voice came through. “Go to the market. Your Nana’s clothes are ready to be picked up from the tailor’s. Go bring them back.”
“I’m s-studying,” Chu Yi stuck with his previous excuse.
“Studying what! With shitty grades like that, you think studying now will make them better? Or make you pass?” Mum said. “You think I really wanted to ask you for help? Your dad said he would bring them back with him at noon, but now I don’t even see a shadow of him, and I can’t get through to his phone either!”
“I’ll go,” said Chu Yi.
“Just as useless as your father.” Mum hung up.
Chu Yi frowned. He stood at the side of the road for a moment, before at last turning and walking in the direction of the market anyway.
As he walked, he bowed his head and called Yan Hang, but Yan Hang didn’t pick up.
He texted too.
[I’m going to the market to help my grandmother pick up clothes. I’ll be over very soon]
He thought for a moment, then texted again.
[Wait for a while]
Yan Hang didn’t reply. He didn’t know whether he was busy or angry.
He probably wasn’t angry. The only time Yan Hang had ever lost his temper at him was when he was looking through the muck of the riverbed for his pen. During other times, he was pretty calm.
He was probably busy with something.
Chu Yi sighed.
He knew all of the stalls and shopfronts in the market and what they sold, more or less. The shop that Nana had her clothes made at was at the back door of the market. He would have to walk through the entire place.
It was the first time that Chu Yi realised just how big the market was, and just how long a walk it was from the front to the back door.
“Where’s the letter?” Yan Hang looked at Dad. “I want to see it.”
“You don’t need it now,” said Dad.
“Then when will I?!” Suddenly, Yan Hang couldn’t quite control his own voice. “When will I need it? When you disappear and never show up ever again?!”
Dad turned back violently and looked at him, unspeaking.
Yan Hang lost his voice now too.
These words had been suppressed within him for a few days now; it was like a nail, and time knocked it a little deeper every day.
When he finally yanked it out, all was blank.
He stayed silent for a long while. When he opened his mouth again, his voice was a little weak, as if it couldn’t find its outlet.
“Let’s leave,” said Yan Hang.
“What?” Dad was stunned.
“You said that it’s up to me this time,” said Yan Hang. “I want to leave now, right now, at once.”
Dad opened his mouth and didn’t speak.
“You lied to me.” Yan Hang leaned against the wall and smiled at Dad. “Lao Yan, you lied to me.”
“Yan Hang.” Dad creased his brow, then walked over and hugged him, patting his back twice with great strength. “Don’t say that.”
“What should I say, then?” Yan Hang heard a tremble in his voice.
He felt like crying.
A very unexpected feeling.
All these years, he’d had many emotions, all sorts of feelings: anxiety, frustration, nervousness, insecurity, fear, depression… but very rarely did he feel like crying.
Crying was a form of release.
But all this while, he hadn’t found the outlet.
“What should I say? For you not to leave?” He closed his eyes as they began to ache.
Dad patted his back softly, saying nothing.
“In your heart, I…” Yan Hang said softly, “mean less than a dead person.”
Dad’s hand came to a sudden stop. Only after a long period of time did he let go.
“My whole life,” Dad said, holding his face, “has been so tiring. I’ve let your mother down, and I’ve let you down too… But some knots in the heart are dead knots, just stuck there; you can’t let go of them your whole life—when things get quiet, it becomes everything.”
When Chu Yi brought Nana’s clothes home, Mum was in the middle of calling Dad.
“The call ain’t connectin’? Or he ain’t picking up?” Nana took the clothes and shook them open to take a look at them. “This one does good clothes. Look at ‘em stitches, all tidy-like.”
“He’s not picking up!” Mum threw the phone at the sofa. “What’s wrong with this man! There’s not one reliable person in this household!”
“What’re you standin’ there for!” Nana threw Chu Yi a side glance. “Don’t you see your ma’s annoyed! Don’t you know how to help her make lunch?!”
“I…” Chu Yi said softly, “need to get back t-to school to s-study.”
“Study my ass!” Nana threw the clothes onto the coffee table. “You’re just lazy!”
Chu Yi didn’t speak.
“Fine, fine.” Mum waved a hand with some consternation. “I can’t eat anyway. I need to go for an interview soon at one, I’m too frustrated to eat. Dad hasn’t come back from playing chess either. You can have the two buns, I’m not eating.”
“Buns, buns!” Nana grabbed something to her left and tossed it, then grabbed something to her right and threw that. “I might as well just eat coffin wood!”
Chu Yi hesitated, then turned and walked out. He shut the door swiftly, but he still wasn’t able to cut off his grandmother’s cursing.
The moment he walked out the door, he took his phone out and checked it.
No messages at all.
Yan Hang had ignored him this whole time.
Now an hour had passed since school ended. Yan Hang knew when he finished school, but didn’t contact him at all.
He didn’t know what was going on. He just kept calling Yan Hang as he ran towards his house.
He hadn’t had a drop to drink all afternoon, but he sprinted as fast as he could.
When he reached Yan Hang’s doorstep, his calls had still gone unanswered.
Chu Yi knocked on the door. “Yan Hang?”
No response.
He knocked again, twice. “Uncle! Uncle Yan?”
The house was as quiet as before.
He walked to the window and looked in. The curtains were drawn, but the window wasn’t shut; he pushed the curtain open. “Yan Hang!”
The lights weren’t on inside. Chu Yi blinked a little before growing accustomed to the dark. He saw Yan Hang sitting on the floor, unmoving.
“Yan Hang!” Chu Yi started in fright and yelled again.
Yan Hang still didn’t move.
He held the window sill and leapt in, then rushed to Yan Hang’s side and grabbed his arm. “Yan…”
Yan Hang suddenly lifted his arm violently and responded by grabbing his wrist, twisting hard.
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