Chapter 19
by Salted FishWhen Xie Chenfeng came back upstairs, his eyes were slightly red. He handed Lin Ze a toothbrush, towel, and toothpaste. Lin Ze went to freshen up and shower. The winter in Guangzhou wasn’t too cold, so he came out wearing a T-shirt and boxer briefs, lying side by side with Xie Chenfeng on the bed, sharing a blanket.
The ceiling light was turned off, leaving only the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Lin Ze half-reclined as he typed out New Year’s greetings on his phone, sending them out in bulk.
In the distance, the countdown began—12 o’clock. Another new year.
“Do you think the world will end this year?” Lin Ze asked.
Xie Chenfeng turned his head to look at him. “Do you want the world to end?”
Lin Ze replied, “Yeah. If the apocalypse comes, everyone won’t have to deal with so much nonsense.”
Xie Chenfeng quipped, “Zheng Jie would definitely resent it—even by the end of the world, he still wouldn’t have a wife.”
Lin Ze burst into unrestrained laughter. “Don’t make fun of single guys. He’ll curse you.”
“Who’s this?” Xie Chenfeng asked.
Ke Maoguo had replied to Lin Ze’s mass New Year’s text. While others had ignored it, Ke Maoguo had responded earnestly: [Thanks, A’Ze. Wishing you a happy New Year too. May the new year bring you peace and joy. Good night.]
“A friend in the military. Someone introduced us,” Lin Ze explained.
Xie Chenfeng: “He knows about us, right? Look, he said ‘Thanks, A’Ze’—’Thanks’ and ‘A’Ze.'”
Lin Ze chuckled.
“Why did he reply to you separately? Does he have feelings for you?” Xie Chenfeng added.
“No way. He’s probably just the type who takes things seriously. Even if it’s a mass text, he replies to each one individually,” Lin Ze replied.
“If he confesses, you should consider it.”
“That’s none of your business. I’m only with you now because I haven’t met the right person. If I ever find someone I like, I’ll dump you without hesitation. A fine bird chooses a good tree to perch on.”
Xie Chenfeng fell silent. Lin Ze put away his phone, and Xie Chenfeng turned off the light, adjusting his pillow before lying down. The two of them lay side by side in the dark.
“Is your job in sales? What do you sell?” Lin Ze asked.
“Phones.”
“Don’t they discriminate against people with your condition?”
“I didn’t tell them. But I usually wear gloves,” Xie Chenfeng whispered.
Lin Ze hummed in acknowledgment. “Working tomorrow? I’d like to see where you work.”
“Not tomorrow. I’ll take you the day after. Business is good—on busy days, I can make over a hundred.”
Another stretch of silence passed. The smell of disinfectant gradually faded, and Lin Ze caught the pleasant scent on Xie Chenfeng’s body, his heart pounding.
“A’Ze, I love you.”
“Stop ruining my life, thanks.”
“There’s so much I want to give you. After I die, can you forgive me?”
“Of course,” Lin Ze murmured.
They didn’t speak again in the dark. Lin Ze fell asleep, but in the middle of the night, he had a nightmare and jolted awake—he dreamed that Xie Chenfeng had hanged himself from the ceiling fan in the living room.
He sat up, panting. Xie Chenfeng woke too. “A’Ze? A’Ze!”
“Did you have a nightmare? It’s okay… it’s okay…”
Xie Chenfeng soothed him repeatedly, and Lin Ze lay back down, gazing at Xie Chenfeng in the darkness before turning to hug him wearily. Closing his eyes again, he slept through the rest of the night. In the morning, he was woken by his phone—the editor-in-chief himself had called, demanding that Lin Ze return to work immediately. Lin Ze brushed his teeth, washed his face, ate breakfast, and hurried to the airport.
“Here’s some money for you.” Lin Ze took out some cash and handed it to him.
“No need. I really don’t lack money right now.”
“Take it. You don’t have to wait until you die—I forgive you now. Take some time off during the Lunar New Year and come back to Chongqing. Buy some Guangdong specialties—anything’s fine. I’ll take you to meet my parents.”
Xie Chenfeng looked at him in disbelief.
“Just take it for now. When you visit, you can’t show up empty-handed.”
Xie Chenfeng nodded. “Okay.”
Lin Ze entered the airport. When he turned back, he saw Xie Chenfeng still standing in the terminal. Xie Chenfeng’s last words the previous night had completely disarmed him. After all, once Xie Chenfeng died, Lin Ze wouldn’t torment himself anymore.
He was only responsible for his own heart. Xie Chenfeng must have understood the meaning behind this—people could never rely on others for redemption. They had to redeem themselves.
What about ten years from now, when Xie Chenfeng was gone?
By then, Lin Ze might have saved up some money. Maybe he’d become a volunteer, just like Chen Kai.
Perhaps every volunteer carried their own story. Following Xie Chenfeng’s advice, Lin Ze had looked up many volunteers’ Weibo accounts. Some had loved ones infected with AIDS, while others had family or relatives who had become innocent victims of the blood scandal.
Boarding time arrived. Lin Ze put away his phone and returned to Chongqing.
He had a lot to think about. The first thing was to tell Zheng Jie.
On the first day of the New Year, Lin Ze went straight to work after landing. He finished the news report during overtime and returned home at six in the evening. After checking rental prices near his workplace for a while, he saw Zheng Jie come through the door in high spirits.
Lin Ze looked up at him. Zheng Jie’s smile lingered on his face.
Lin Ze: “I have bad news.”
Zheng Jie: “I have good news!”
Lin Ze: “…”
Zheng Jie: “…”
After a moment of silence, Lin Ze asked, “Did the blind date work out?”
“No.” Zheng Jie deflated again.
Lin Ze’s lips twitched. Zheng Jie sat down at the dining table and said, “She likes older, more mature guys. Said I yell at employees too much.”
Lin Ze replied, “You’re pretty good at taking care of people too.”
Zheng Jie sighed. “Forget it. What about you? Where’d you run off to yesterday? Out fooling around again?”
Ever since Lin Ze had returned from his checkup, Zheng Jie had almost stopped asking about his boyfriends.
Lin Ze told him, “Xie Lei and I are back together.”
He knew Zheng Jie would only say one word.
Sure enough, Zheng Jie muttered, “Oh.”
Lin Ze told Zheng Jie everything that had happened between him and Xie Chenfeng since they got back together. Zheng Jie listened with interest, arms crossed, legs crossed, a cigarette in hand.
“I won’t sleep with him,” Lin Ze said. “But I still like him. I don’t want to force myself to stay away anymore. Otherwise, years from now, I might never… forget him. No matter who I fall in love with in the future, I’ll always think of Xie Lei, who’s going to die.”
“Mm.” Zheng Jie nodded. “I support you. But be careful, okay? Disinfect properly, don’t use his toothbrush or towel… and don’t kiss too much.”
Lin Ze smiled and nodded. “A peck on the lips is fine, just no deep kissing. What’s your good news? Getting a promotion?”
Zheng Jie perked up. “My aunt’s buying me a house!”
Lin Ze: “!!!”
“She’s been nagging me to get married like crazy,” Zheng Jie explained. “Said she’d cover the down payment, and I’d pay the mortgage myself. Once the mortgage is paid off, I can pay her back for the down payment if I can…”
“That’s amazing! I’ll buy you furniture! I know a designer—I’ll ask him to help with the interior.”
Zheng Jie chuckled. Both of them knew exactly what a house meant. In this city, renters always lived with a sense of insecurity. Owning a home meant they could decorate a cozy little nest. With a house, Zheng Jie would have much more confidence when going on blind dates.
Lin Ze had known for a long time that Zheng Jie’s aunt was well-off, but Zheng Jie’s personality was a lot like his—he’d rather starve than rely on relatives. His aunt must have finally had enough and forked over 200,000 for the down payment. Combined with Zheng Jie’s meager housing fund, they could barely afford a 59-square-meter, two-bedroom apartment.
“I’ll go check out the properties when they open for the New Year. Come with me.”
Lin Ze was genuinely happy for him and asked, “Can you afford the mortgage?”
“I’ll cut back where I can. It’s 2,400 a month—only 600 more than our rent. If I’m short, I’ll borrow from you.”
Lin Ze nodded. “Sure. If you’re short on renovation costs, I’ll cover it. But I’ll have to move out.”
Zheng Jie’s eyebrows twitched as he looked at Lin Ze in confusion.
Lin Ze continued, “If Xie Chenfeng comes back to Chongqing to visit me occasionally, we can’t… I mean, I’m thinking of renting a small place for around 1,000 near my workplace. You know, because of his condition… And once you have a house, finding a suitable partner on blind dates won’t be hard…”
“What’s there to be afraid of? Just bring him here to live with us.”
Lin Ze: “…”
“Don’t be ridiculous. If you’ve forgiven him, then he’s your lover. How could I discriminate against him? Once we move, you two can live here. Just be careful with hygiene, that’s all.” With that, he got up to shower, leaving Lin Ze sitting dumbfounded at the table.
“Then it’s settled,” Lin Ze said with a laugh.
Zheng Jie hummed a tune in the bathroom, in high spirits, and shouted, “Let’s go check out the houses together!”
For a moment, Lin Ze didn’t know what to say. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, overwhelmed by the emotions surging inside him. But anything he said now would sound insincere or pretentious, so he stayed silent.
He’d buy Zheng Jie a sofa and a new TV. Because of those words, Lin Ze would always keep a spare room in his future home for Zheng Jie to stay over.
But he still couldn’t let Xie Chenfeng into Zheng Jie’s new home. After all, Zheng Jie was trying to get married—he couldn’t drag him down. Finding a partner was hard enough as it was. If an AIDS patient occasionally visited, people would run for the hills. Who’d want to date Zheng Jie then?
He needed to find a new place soon so he could move out temporarily when Xie Chenfeng visited.
On the second day of the New Year, Situ Ye called, asking Lin Ze to hang out with him.
Situ Ye had found another zero1Zero: a bottom on a gay relationship—this one dressed fashionably, from a wealthy family, and drove a Land Rover. The next day, during their day off, Lin Ze and Situ Ye went to watch a movie and eat. The zero’s aura was even more nouveau riche than the term ‘nouveau riche’ suggested—he paid for everything and picked the most expensive places.
At first, Lin Ze thought he was Situ Ye’s blind date, but after the movie, the zero invited both Situ Ye and Lin Ze to his place to watch DVDs. It seemed he wanted to have them both—a threesome in one bed. Lin Ze was speechless.
“I’ll head out first. You two have fun,” Lin Ze said as he got out of the car.
Situ Ye called, “Hey, A’Ze, wait!”
The zero driving the car smiled nonchalantly and said to Situ Ye, “Hit me up if you’re free.”
Situ Ye chased after him. Lin Ze walked backward on the road and asked, “What kind of people are you meeting?!”
“It was our first time meeting too. How was I supposed to know?” Situ Ye replied, exasperated.
“Next time, pay for your own meals. I’ll give you the money later,” Lin Ze said.
“No need. I have money. But I don’t want to see him again either.”
“Then give him something as a thank-you,” Lin Ze suggested.
Situ Ye grinned. “Did you want to play with him, A’Ze?”
Lin Ze imagined himself and Situ Ye as tops, with the zero kneeling, sucking in front and getting fucked from behind—like something out of a Western gay porn. The mental image was too intense. But he absolutely couldn’t handle the idea of stripping naked with Situ Ye. Watching porn was one thing—that was other people’s threesome. If it were his own, he’d die of awkwardness.
Lin Ze walked slowly up the slope. The lights of Bei Cheng Tian Street had dimmed.
“Where to?” Situ Ye asked again.
“Taking you home,” Lin Ze answered.
There were far fewer cars on the road now, with only streetlights still glowing.
Suddenly, Situ Ye said, “Why don’t we just pair up and settle for each other? I think it’d be nice.”
“Don’t joke around,” Lin Ze replied irritably.
“Hmm?” Situ Ye shrugged. “Why can’t I find the right person?”
Lin Ze smiled. “You will, as long as you believe in love.”
Situ Ye narrowed his eyes, studying Lin Ze suspiciously, then suddenly asked, “You seem really happy today. Did you go to Guangzhou the night before last?”
Lin Ze didn’t hide it. “Yeah. I decided to get back together with Xie Lei.”
“He has AIDS,” Situ Ye pointed out.
“Whether I like him or not has nothing to do with whether he has AIDS,” Lin Ze responded.
“If you sleep with an AIDS patient, I’m not hanging out with you anymore.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Hey, boss!”
Situ Ye caught up to Lin Ze, who was walking quietly down the road. Lin Ze turned to look at him, his handsome face bathed in the warm glow of the streetlight, exuding a youthful spirit and simple determination.
“Are you serious?!” Situ Ye stopped in his tracks, bewildered.
Lin Ze nodded. “I’ll disinfect before coming out every day. Don’t worry. I bet you’ll start complaining about the smell of disinfectant on me soon.”
Situ Ye frowned. “That’s not what I meant. Why would you… You’re letting him come back?”
“Yeah,” Lin Ze admitted. “Because I love him.”
“Why do you love him?”
“I don’t know. I just do.”
Situ Ye’s brows knitted together. “What about Zheng Jie? Doesn’t he care?”
“Zheng Jie supports me.”
Situ Ye fell silent.
They reached the entrance of Situ Ye’s apartment building.
“Good night, Situ,” Lin Ze said.
Situ Ye didn’t respond, heading into the stairwell.
“You should be happy for me,” Lin Ze added.
“Wishing you happiness, boss,” Situ Ye said indifferently.
“I won’t neglect you. Don’t be like this.”
Situ Ye stood under the light in the first-floor hallway, seeming a little happier, as if he had something to say—like a child coming home late. Finally, he said, “Mm. Good night, little brother A’Ze. Big brother will prepare your dowry.”
Lin Ze didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Situ Ye’s move was too ruthless.
Situ Ye hurried upstairs, and Lin Ze turned to head home, lost in thought as he walked.
He knew Situ Ye might be a little jealous. Though they weren’t lovers, they had been partners for over two months. Aside from their off time, they were always together—both work partners and the best of playmates. They went everywhere together, ate together, worked together, and even called each other to hang out on days off. If Xie Chenfeng returned, Lin Ze’s attention would inevitably shift toward him—after all, he was both a patient and Lin Ze’s lover.
His time with Situ Ye would decrease significantly.
But there was no way Lin Ze could date Situ Ye. For one, they were colleagues. If work partners who saw each other every day slept together, their relationship would become awkward. Secondly, Lin Ze didn’t… feel anything for Situ Ye, right?
Not necessarily.
Lin Ze couldn’t help but think of another scenario—what if he had met Situ Ye first instead of Xie Chenfeng?
Maybe back then, he would have been willing to date Situ Ye seriously, and they really could have been together. He’d even been open to seeing where things went with that unreliable fitness coach—let alone someone as great as Situ Ye.
But Situ Ye was always going to leave, like a backpacker wandering the world. Lin Ze convinced himself with other thoughts—whether it was their professional relationship or Situ Ye’s dreams, they weren’t compatible. No, not at all. Besides, Situ Ye might not even like him that way—he probably just enjoyed hanging out, like how handsome, stylish guys in high school liked to stick together. No need to get ahead of himself.
The next day, Situ Ye acted as if nothing had happened, picking Lin Ze up early in the morning as usual. The New Year holiday was over, and most people had returned to work.
Throughout January, Lin Ze sent Xie Chenfeng a text every day, asking what he was up to—mostly about meals and sleep. Xie Chenfeng kept a regular schedule: up at seven, work at eight, off at seven, home for dinner, some internet, and saying goodnight to Lin Ze at ten before bed.
This year’s Lunar New Year came early. After New Year’s, everyone’s minds were already drifting toward the holiday. Zheng Jie’s company wouldn’t hand out year-end bonuses until March, along with the annual party.
The company was afraid people would quit after getting their bonuses, skipping the New Year sales period. The delayed payout was tough on Zheng Jie—he’d only get 5,000 for the holiday, with no double salary, forcing him to borrow from Lin Ze again.
Lin Ze was in good spirits and made new plans with Zheng Jie for the coming year. After the holiday, they wouldn’t rent anymore—he’d accompany Zheng Jie to look at houses. With his previous savings of over 20,000, his year-end bonus, and half a year’s salary, Lin Ze had saved up quite a bit.
Zheng Jie’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“Where’d you get so much money??!” Zheng Jie roared.
Lin Ze deadpanned, “Saved it. Plus what I had before. Lunch is covered by the company, Situ Ye drives me to and from work, and I can save two or three thousand out of my 5,000 monthly salary. Gas and parking are reimbursed, and I can expense 600 for client meals, plus red envelopes from interviews…”
Zheng Jie nearly spat blood.
“I’ll lend you some,” Lin Ze offered. “Xie Lei’s coming back for the New Year. We’ll go home together.”
Zheng Jie stared at Lin Ze’s 60,000 in savings, tears streaming down his face as a chronic spendthrift.
Zheng Jie still had to give his mother some money for the New Year. Lin Ze figured a few thousand would be enough. They each took 5,000 home, keeping the rest as backup. Next year, they’d need money for Zheng Jie’s renovations, furniture, and utilities—a hefty sum of at least 20,000 to 30,000.
They’d also need to save for Xie Chenfeng’s treatment and better nutrition… There were plenty of expenses, but Lin Ze believed that if things continued like this, the future was bright. They were on the rise in their careers—houses and cars would come in time.
Lin Ze and Zheng Jie’s childhoods hadn’t been entirely dark. When Zheng Jie’s mother won at mahjong, she’d give them money to buy snacks. Wins brought joy, while losses turned the house upside down.
During the times Lin Ze’s parents weren’t fighting, they had been harmonious for a while. When he was five or six, they’d take him to his grandmother’s on Sundays to pick up his younger brother, then carry his brother and hold his hand as they went out to eat and visit parks.
People tended to forget the good others did them while remembering the bad vividly. For Lin Ze, as long as there had been even a little warmth, he couldn’t completely sever ties with his family. He couldn’t live with his parents and didn’t want to burden himself, but after years of working, he still felt he should visit during the holidays.
Zheng Jie went to book train tickets, frantically refreshing the Ministry of Railways’ website, while Lin Ze transferred money to him from his computer.
The lingering winter rain had finally stopped. Bei Cheng Tian Street was still bustling, but as the year drew to a close, the pale sunlight and chilly wind carried a sense of loneliness. Passersby wrapped in scarves and wool hats crossed the square. Once again, Lin Ze felt a strong urge to be in love. In winter, having a lover by his side would be warm and comforting.
Lin Ze opened his laptop at Starbucks and saw a message from Xie Chenfeng:
[A’Ze, I probably won’t be back in Chongqing for the New Year. Business is good at the end of the year, and I can’t get away from work.]
Lin Ze: “…”
Hadn’t they agreed on this? Lin Ze was a little annoyed at being stood up. He asked why, but Xie Chenfeng’s avatar was gray. He pulled out his phone to call Xie Chenfeng, but there was no answer.
Lin Ze hesitated. Was he sick? Should he call Chen Kai to check?
Lin Ze and Xie Chenfeng had both been busy lately, not in frequent contact. Lin Ze had thought it didn’t matter since they’d see each other for the New Year, but now this happened. It felt like all his expectations had suddenly collapsed.
After a moment, he sent another text: [Then will you come back later? For the Lantern Festival?]
Xie Chenfeng didn’t reply. Lin Ze leaned back in his chair, thinking. He had been too self-centered, not considering Xie Chenfeng’s feelings enough. Lin Ze’s mindset was still a bit chauvinistic—he had strong control tendencies, wanting everything to go his way. After entering society, he had been reminding himself to change, and he had improved somewhat.
Was Xie Chenfeng afraid? Afraid that being with him would revert him to his old self? Lin Ze could sense Xie Chenfeng’s efforts, with Lin Ze himself as the goal. Maybe if Lin Ze hadn’t accepted him back so quickly, Xie Chenfeng would have had more motivation to strive.
Sometimes, he still overlooked Xie Chenfeng’s feelings. Lin Ze self-reflected first, then made a small excuse—he was too used to being the top, not sensitive enough.
He sent another text: [If your work’s going well and you’re making money, stay in Guangzhou for now. We’ll figure things out later.]
Xie Chenfeng still didn’t reply. A little frustrated, Lin Ze sighed and went to work.
“What are your plans for the New Year?” Situ Ye asked with a smile.
“Going home,” Lin Ze said after a pause. “What about you? Are you going back?”
Lin Ze knew Situ Ye was from Xinjiang. He’d been a little surprised when he first heard, but Situ Ye did have some features common to people from that region, though his ID card listed him as Han Chinese.
Situ Ye hadn’t talked about his family, but since he had traveled all over the country right after college and never called home, Lin Ze guessed his family situation wasn’t great and didn’t press further.
“Are you going back to Karamay?” Lin Ze asked. “Take a plane.”
“Mm, no.” Situ Ye kept his eyes on the road as he drove.
Lin Ze knew he shouldn’t pry if Situ Ye didn’t want to talk, but as his superior, he felt he should show some concern for his personal life.
“Did you have a falling out with your family?” Lin Ze asked.
Situ Ye replied, “My father’s family is Muslim.”
With that one sentence, Lin Ze pieced together much of the story.
Lin Ze: “And your mom’s Han?”
Situ Ye smiled. “Yeah.”
Lin Ze commented, “Your mom must be beautiful.”
Situ Ye glanced at him. “My dad’s handsome too. They have a big family.”
No wonder Situ Ye didn’t want to go home. In the Muslim world, homosexuality was strictly forbidden. Situ Ye’s mother marrying his father must have been fraught with difficulties.
Lin Ze asked, “Is your dad’s family Uyghur2Uyghur: a Turkic ethnic group in China. Predominantly Muslim? Do Uyghurs have the surname Situ?”
Situ Ye explained, “Uyghurs don’t have surnames—just given names plus their father’s name. My original name was Yaoliwa, meaning ‘little tiger.’ After my parents divorced, I took my mom’s surname. She went abroad, but I didn’t go with her.”
Lin Ze understood now. Interethnic marriage itself was a cultural chasm. Having a son, then divorcing, and then the son being gay… The Islamic system adhered to traditional family values—homosexuality was punishable by hanging. Situ Ye must have felt incredibly isolated in that society.
“So what are your plans for the New Year?” Lin Ze asked. “Come home with me and Zheng Jie?”
Situ Ye didn’t answer immediately, glancing at Lin Ze. “Just the two of you?”
Lin Ze replied, “Xie Chenfeng might come too, but it’s not certain. He’s busy in Guangzhou—not sure if he can make it.”
Situ Ye’s expression immediately darkened. Then he muttered, “Forget it. I’d feel awkward meeting your elders. When are you guys coming back?”
Lin Ze knew there wasn’t much to look forward to at his or Zheng Jie’s homes, so he didn’t press further. “Probably just a day or two.”
Situ Ye asked, “What about Xie Chenfeng? When’s he leaving?”
Lin Ze: “He’ll probably go back to Guangzhou… I’m not sure.”
Situ Ye sighed. “Then let’s hang out after the third or fourth day of the New Year?”
Lin Ze smiled. “Sure.”
Situ Ye brought his camera as they got out of the car to cover a government event at a Chongqing nursing home before the New Year. From noon until evening, community volunteers were helping out. The elderly residents adored Situ Ye, pulling him into endless conversations.
When someone learned Lin Ze was a reporter, they called him over, tearfully sharing stories about their children. Lin Ze had encountered this many times before—for many, reporters were saviors. Those going through divorce, emotional betrayal, business scams, or abandonment by family… anyone with a problem hoped the press would publish their story, easing their suffering or at least making their voices heard.
Some even sought revenge, wanting to expose wrongdoing. The stories were always the same—commonplace tragedies that, while devastating to those involved, held little appeal for newspapers.
Others exaggerated their misfortunes to draw attention or vilified those they accused, twisting them into monsters. In his early months as a reporter, Lin Ze had comforted victims and done his best to help the disadvantaged during interviews.
But it had exhausted him—phone calls never ended, and every story had a follow-up. Eventually, he could only listen and do what he could during work hours. After clocking out, whether someone wanted to jump off a building or throw acid at a love rival, he turned off his phone.
Issues like disputes in nursing homes—elderly bullying each other, children neglecting parents after inheriting property—were too widespread to be newsworthy. Besides, this was a government feature—no room for depressing content.
So Lin Ze listened sympathetically, offering comfort, until one elderly man in a wheelchair angrily accused a caregiver of abuse. Only then did Lin Ze feel it was worth reporting.
Situ Ye was shocked.
“The caregiver slapped them?” Situ Ye said, disbelieving.
Lin Ze put a finger to his lips, signaling Situ Ye to stay quiet and keep listening.
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