Chapter 39

Lin Ze’s workplace assigned him a trainee photographer. When he saw the young man, he was reminded of Situ Ye. The boy’s nickname was Little Angel, and he truly was angelic—baby-faced, fair-skinned, clean, wearing a shirt and tie with a MashiMaro tie clip. At first, Lin Ze thought the guy was gay. Even Lin Ze had misjudged him, which showed how much he resembled a bottom. He was almost fooled by his appearance, only to later discover that Little Angel’s temper was anything but angelic—it was downright explosive.

What was even funnier was that Little Angel had a fierce girlfriend who had been scolding him since elementary school, all the way through university and after graduation. The slightest dissatisfaction would lead to a full-blown argument. Once, when Little Angel was delivering something to her and was half an hour late, he parked the car by the roadside, and the two of them had a massive fight. Both had fiery tempers, and they argued for a full ten minutes. Lin Ze, sitting in the car, thought, This is too much.

At first, Lin Ze found it annoying, but now he found it increasingly amusing. Compared to these two, the arguments he’d had in the past seemed utterly tame—like a live-action version of A Couple’s Daily Battles. So he took out his voice recorder and captured their brilliant verbal exchanges, then played them for Zheng Jie when he got home.

Zheng Jie laughed hysterically. As Lin Ze ate, he reenacted the scene for him. After the recording ended and they finished laughing, Zheng Jie slumped on the sofa, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes, sighing, “Ah, I wish I had someone like that to argue with every day.”

Zheng Jie’s thick Sichuan accent was gone. He now spoke Mandarin at home with Lin Ze and even asked Lin Ze to monitor him to avoid accidentally slipping into dialect when dealing with others. He called his boss “General Manager Wang,” took Lin Ze to expensive places to eat and then got receipts, and went to the supermarket with Lin Ze to buy things for their “dog son.”

Zheng Jie also brought back a lot of leftovers from banquets. As a result, Lin Ze had midnight snacks every day, but eating like this wasn’t sustainable—he’d gain weight. Lin Ze had to resist the temptation—getting fat in his twenties was no joke. But Zheng Jie kept bringing food home, washing off the oil, salt, and spices before feeding it to their dog. The end result was that even the Alaska got fat. Worse, whether it was due to the season or the residual salt in the food, the Alaska started shedding a little. So Lin Ze declared a ban on leftovers—no more takeout!

Zheng Jie said seriously in Mandarin, “Tell me, what’s wrong with me, A’Ze?”

Lin Ze sighed and shrugged, then suddenly remembered something. “Right, we’re off tomorrow. I’ll take you to listen to Little Angel argue.”

The next day was a rare day off for Zheng Jie, so Lin Ze took him along, asking Little Angel to pick them up under the pretense of visiting Zheng Jie’s new home. Lin Ze was learning to drive, but neither of them dared to get behind the wheel yet, so Little Angel drove while Lin Ze and Zheng Jie sat in the back, exchanging glances and waiting for Little Angel and his girlfriend to start arguing.

Sure enough, after Little Angel took a wrong turn and went the long way, the two of them finally erupted into a fight. Zheng Jie and Lin Ze laughed so hard they hid behind the front seats. Little Angel yelled at his girlfriend not to embarrass him in front of his boss, but the girl wasn’t intimidated at all. She snapped back, You were supposed to turn right just now, but you went straight! Now you know it’s embarrassing? When your mom gave birth to you, did she—BLABLABLA— Lin Ze and Zheng Jie clutched their stomachs from laughing so hard.

The new home was still awaiting final inspection. The place was truly stunning, but Zheng Jie just stood in the living room, gave it a cursory glance, pointed out a few minor fixes needed in the bathroom, and then dismissed the workers.

Lin Ze tested the air conditioning. Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the eighteenth floor. Zheng Jie leaned on the railing, looking outside without saying a word.

“A’Ze, do you know what I’m thinking?” Zheng Jie said.

Lin Ze replied, “Forget it, don’t think about it. You’ll find a good girl.”

Of course Lin Ze knew what he was thinking—who in the world understood Zheng Jie better than he did? Zheng Jie was thinking that the house had been designed by Rongrong. It was supposed to be their marital home, but now they’d broken up. If he could, Zheng Jie would tear it all down and start over, just to stop thinking about her. But if he did that, even these memories would be gone, and Zheng Jie couldn’t bear that.

Lin Ze wandered around for a bit. When he came back out, Zheng Jie muttered, “Wrong. I was thinking about what would happen if I jumped from the eighteenth floor.”

Zheng Jie leaned over the brick railing of the balcony, his upper body hanging precariously over the edge as he spat. Lin Ze walked over and warned, “Don’t lean like that. Be careful—you might fall.”

Zheng Jie ignored him, seemingly enjoying the rush of blood to his head—just like when they were kids in elementary school, when they used to hang over the second-floor railing, dangling their upper bodies and heads toward the ground.

It was an incredibly dangerous thing to do. Back then, they were just reckless, adventurous boys who’d try anything.

“Sometimes I wonder, what’s the point of living?” Zheng Jie added. “You struggle your whole life, and in the end, you still die. And after death, there’s nothing.”

Lin Ze placed a hand on Zheng Jie’s back and replied casually, “I don’t know either. But when Xie Lei was sick, he told me…”

As he spoke, Lin Ze suddenly wrapped both arms around Zheng Jie’s waist and yanked him back from the railing onto the balcony. Zheng Jie was startled, his expression blank. Lin Ze shoved him to the ground, pinning him down. Their faces were close, and Lin Ze’s voice trembled. “Zheng Jie, how could you do this?”

Zheng Jie realized Lin Ze was genuinely furious.

When Lin Ze was angry, he radiated danger like a lion. Zheng Jie quickly backpedaled, “Sorry, sorry, A’Ze. I was just messing around. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You… you…” Lin Ze stammered. “Don’t ever do something so reckless again… I can handle any kind of blow, but losing you is the one thing I can’t bear. Don’t think I’m always indifferent to everything—you mean a lot to me!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Zheng Jie murmured. “Don’t cry, A’Ze.”

Lin Ze stood up and nodded, his eyes red. Zheng Jie took out a cigarette and handed him one. The two of them smoked in the empty house.

“Don’t just say things like ‘What’s the point of living?’—don’t even think about it,” Lin Ze urged. “Don’t let yourself fall into despair. Your family is counting on you to make money.”

Zheng Jie chuckled.

“It’s normal to have a hard time forgetting your first love. It’ll get better with time,” Lin Ze added.

After saying this, Lin Ze flicked his cigarette butt into a bucket in Zheng Jie’s house. Zheng Jie grunted in acknowledgment, then closed the door behind them as they left, slinging an arm over Lin Ze’s shoulder as they took the elevator down.

That evening, they were supposed to have dinner at Zheng Jie’s aunt’s place. She wanted Rongrong to come over again to confirm the wedding date and give her a red envelope—she’d been so excited the first time Rongrong visited that she’d forgotten this important step. Every time Zheng Jie heard this, he wanted to die. It wasn’t something he could explain over the phone, so he planned to visit his aunt in person to tell her about the breakup.

When they left, Lin Ze suggested calling Little Angel to pick them up, but Zheng Jie declined—the young couple was happy together, and he didn’t want to disturb them. They could just take a taxi.

Zheng Jie didn’t take the subway anymore. If a taxi was needed, he took one—and of course, he got a receipt.

Lin Ze stayed quiet. That moment with Zheng Jie had genuinely scared him. Compared to how much Zheng Jie cared for him, perhaps he hadn’t paid enough attention to Zheng Jie. Or maybe he’d been projecting his own coping mechanisms onto Zheng Jie. Lin Ze himself dealt with heartbreak by throwing himself into work, and since Zheng Jie was busy, he assumed he’d be able to temporarily set things aside. But now it seemed Zheng Jie was under too much pressure—the strain of his conflict with Rongrong and the breakup had built up, and he needed an outlet.

Zheng Jie came home late every night after social engagements, by which time Lin Ze was already asleep. It wasn’t that Lin Ze didn’t want to wait up—he just couldn’t, since he had work the next day. The only time they could talk was in the morning while brushing their teeth and washing up.

I need to find some way to distract him… Just as Lin Ze was lost in thought, Zheng Jie suddenly turned to him. “Once we get our driver’s licenses, we’ll have a Mercedes to drive.”

Lin Ze: “!!”

“General Manager Wang travels a lot and said I can use her Mercedes, especially to pick up and drop off her daughter.”

Lin Ze decided to ignore him.

After a brief silence, Lin Ze spoke up.

“Zheng Jie, think about it—you’re a good person, you’re debt-free, and now you’re even making money. Why would you be afraid of not finding someone who’ll love you? Heck, forget debt-free—at this rate, you’ll even pay off your debts. What’s there to worry about?”

“Yeah.” Zheng Jie gave a half-smile. “I’ll go on a blind date in a few days. There should be girls willing to give me a chance now.”

Sitting in the car, Zheng Jie patted Lin Ze’s shoulder. “Almost all my friends say the same thing—even Rongrong’s mom said it. Rongrong herself said it too.”

Lin Ze immediately sensed something off. “You called her again after the breakup?”

Zheng Jie nodded. Lin Ze didn’t bother scolding him. Given that Zheng Jie would call a blind date over a dozen times just to confirm if she was interested in him, it was only natural that he’d call Rongrong a few times begging for reconciliation.

“What did she say?”

“I annoyed her whole family. They probably all hate me now. Heh.”

Lin Ze: “…”

Forget it, forget it. Lin Ze got out of the car to buy gifts for Zheng Jie’s aunt.

Zheng Jie paid and called out, “A’Ze.”

Carrying the bags, the two of them walked down the street as the city lights began to glow. Zheng Jie really wasn’t the same as before—love had made him grow up. The old Zheng Jie had been like a boy, but now he was more of a man.

“What was your first love like?” Zheng Jie asked. “I feel like I’ll never forget her.”

“It was fine. I’ll never forget my first love either,” Lin Ze replied.

“Do you still think about him now?”

“I think about him often,” Lin Ze admitted, “but it’s just thoughts. It doesn’t hurt like it used to. I’m thinking about him right now.”

Zheng Jie had always known Lin Ze liked men, but he didn’t know when it had started. He added, “Then we probably feel the same way.”

Lin Ze laughed. “No, not the same. When I think about him, I’m actually pretty happy.”

Lin Ze’s smile was bittersweet. Zheng Jie asked, “Who was it? Someone from middle school?”

Lin Ze patted his head. Zheng Jie, like an eager puppy, pressed, “You’ve never told me about your first love…”

Lin Ze replied, “Forgive me for being blunt… but my first love didn’t really leave me with any scars. I’d love to reminisce with you about the good old days…”

“Who was it?” Zheng Jie asked.

“You,” Lin Ze said with a laugh.

Zheng Jie: “…”

Lin Ze quickly clarified, “But I don’t like you anymore, so don’t freak out…”

Zheng Jie wasn’t the least bit awkward—in fact, he found it hilarious. He wrapped an arm around Lin Ze affectionately and declared, “Darling! Let’s get married!”

“Stop messing around,” Lin Ze pushed Zheng Jie’s head away. He fell into thought, remaining somewhat distracted from the moment they went upstairs for dinner until they left. Zheng Jie’s uncle brought out imported liquor to console his heartbroken nephew, but Lin Ze was preoccupied. The phrase he heard most from Zheng Jie’s aunt was:

“Don’t think about it, Jiejie. With your money, why would you worry about not finding a wife?”

Zheng Jie just nodded repeatedly without responding, drinking steadily. Lin Ze could see his face reddening and his neck tensing. Zheng Jie’s aunt then started talking about his parents’ marriage. By now, Lin Ze was already familiar with the legendary exploits of Zheng Jie’s mother, and the aunt didn’t avoid the topic in front of him.

But this was the first time Lin Ze had heard about Zheng Jie’s parents’ love story.

Zheng Jie’s mother and father’s relationship had been opposed by their families from the start. Zheng Jie’s aunt went on and on, using every angle to emphasize how important it was for a marriage to have the family’s blessing. Her previous high opinion of Rongrong had done a complete 180—now she criticized her for not even knowing how to strip the strings off green beans, saying she was clearly spoiled. She even complained that Rongrong had made Lin Ze wash the dishes and asked, “Right, Zeze?”

Lin Ze nodded vaguely, watching TV. Zheng Jie’s aunt then listed all of Rongrong’s flaws, including how she’d definitely treat Lin Ze like a servant after marriage. Lin Ze thought this was going too far—he still had a good impression of Rongrong. But he knew the aunt was just using criticism to make Zheng Jie feel better, so he let it go.

“Stop talking!” Zheng Jie finally sighed heavily.

His uncle also added, “Alright, alright, he gets it.”

Everyone had heard enough, so the aunt switched topics back to Zheng Jie’s mother. The gist was that Zheng Jie’s mother had initially deceived everyone with her act, only to reveal her true, vicious nature after marriage, squandering the family’s wealth and causing chaos. It was all her fault—her husband was blameless, BLABLABLA. After listening for a while, Zheng Jie muttered, “Just keep talking about Rongrong.”

Lin Ze: “…”

Zheng Jie’s mother had been fine when she wasn’t gambling. When Lin Ze was little and got beaten at home, he’d hide at Zheng Jie’s place. Back then, Zheng Jie’s family was still harmonious. Little Lin Ze and little Zheng Jie would share a bed, sleeping under the same blanket. Before bed, Zheng Jie’s mother would come in, pat Zheng Jie’s head, then pat Lin Ze’s, and take their game consoles from under their pillows.

Later, Zheng Jie’s father got a mistress, and Zheng Jie’s mother drowned her sorrows in gambling. She’d take Zheng Jie’s father’s salary and lose it playing mahjong downstairs. When she lost, she’d go home and beat her son, smashing his game console.

In elementary school, Zheng Jie would take Lin Ze home for meals, but there’d be no food.

The two of them would then go to Lin Ze’s house, but there’d be no food there either. So they’d rummage through drawers for spare change, using a few yuan to buy instant noodles. They’d count down excitedly while waiting for the noodles to cook.

Later, Zheng Jie started getting beaten too, though not as badly as Lin Ze. Zheng Jie’s aunt didn’t know about this until she came to visit and noticed something was wrong. She confronted Zheng Jie’s mother at the mahjong table downstairs, slapping her twice on the spot, then transferred Zheng Jie to another school.

Sixth grade—the period when Zheng Jie transferred—was the darkest time of Lin Ze’s childhood. He didn’t want Zheng Jie to leave, but he knew he had to go. So he happily helped Zheng Jie plan, telling him how to adjust to the new environment. After seeing Zheng Jie off, Lin Ze turned around and cried his heart out.

At just twelve years old, he crouched by the roadside, crying until the sun set. He even cried so hard he threw up. He’d always felt sorry for Zheng Jie—even sorrier than for himself. After all, Lin Ze had been beaten since childhood and had never known much family warmth. But Zheng Jie had been different. Zheng Jie’s childhood had been happy, and having that happiness ripped away was especially cruel. So Lin Ze believed Zheng Jie had to leave.

And then…

“You should talk to him more, Zeze,” Zheng Jie’s aunt interrupted Lin Ze’s reminiscing.

“Oh,” Lin Ze responded, accepting a set of bedding the aunt had originally bought for Rongrong. Now that they’d broken up, she gave it to him instead.

Zheng Jie pushed open the bathroom door forcefully. “Let’s… let’s go!”

His uncle offered, “Why don’t you both just stay the night?”

Lin Ze quickly declined—he had work the next day. Zheng Jie was already drunk but insisted he was fine, pushing open the kitchen door and repeatedly pressing the microwave buttons as if they were elevator controls. Lin Ze dragged him away.

For some reason, Lin Ze couldn’t stop thinking about their childhood today. Zheng Jie was so drunk he could barely stand. Since they couldn’t get a taxi on this road, Lin Ze had to “misuse public resources” again, calling Little Angel to pick them up one more time.

Zheng Jie stood by the roadside. The night was filled with the chirping of insects, the scent of grass in the air. The entire road was empty except for the two of them, with only a dim 20-watt light glowing from a small shop in the distance.

He stood there, utterly dejected. Lin Ze patted Zheng Jie’s head. “Hey,” he murmured.

Zheng Jie burst into tears, hugging Lin Ze tightly and sobbing, “I really loved her—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” Lin Ze couldn’t bear to see Zheng Jie like this. The two of them stood silently embracing by the roadside. Little Angel’s car arrived, and he helped Lin Ze get Zheng Jie inside.

Zheng Jie cried and babbled, “A’Ze, don’t leave me…”

Lin Ze: “…”

He was drunk and rambling. Little Angel occasionally glanced at them in the rearview mirror. Zheng Jie clung to Lin Ze, muttering nonsense. Lin Ze couldn’t help but recall more of the past—after Zheng Jie transferred in sixth grade, he’d still call Lin Ze often. Every night at ten, without fail, the phone would ring.

During that time, waiting for Zheng Jie’s calls was Lin Ze’s only joy. They’d talk about anything, and Zheng Jie would make sure Lin Ze was still alive and hadn’t been beaten to death. He also urged Lin Ze to apply to the same middle school he attended.

But elementary school graduates couldn’t take entrance exams outside their district. Lin Ze had asked and found out it wasn’t possible, so he had to endure three more years without Zheng Jie. In middle school, many kids started dating, but Lin Ze felt nothing for girls—or for anyone at all during that time.

“A’Ze…” Zheng Jie leaned against Lin Ze’s chest, sobbing.

Lin Ze absentmindedly patted his head, lost in his memories. After finishing middle school, compulsory education ended. Back then, Lin Ze just wanted to escape that hellhole and start working.

But in ninth grade, Zheng Jie started calling again, urging him to take the entrance exam for a prestigious high school in Chongqing. Lin Ze remembered saying, “No.”

“What…” Zheng Jie’s eyes were red, filled with tears.

Lin Ze gazed out the window at the brightly lit streets, neon lights glowing, and murmured, “I’m going out to work.”

Zheng Jie fell asleep in Lin Ze’s arms, but Lin Ze smiled. That day, Zheng Jie had changed his mind with just one sentence.

Zheng Jie murmured, “A’Ze, after the car drove away that day, I saw you crying on the roadside. I didn’t want to leave either, but I knew I had to. And I knew you wanted me to go. I missed you too. Don’t go work—come study. I’ll ask my grandma to pay your tuition.”

At that moment, Lin Ze’s first love began.

“Mmm…”

Zheng Jie opened his eyes. Lin Ze immediately knew what was coming and quickly rolled down the window so Zheng Jie could vomit outside.

“What’s wrong, boss?” Little Angel asked.

“He’s drunk,” Lin Ze replied.

Little Angel nodded and handed a bottle of water to the back seat. “Brother Zheng Jie is a good guy. Sigh.”

Zheng Jie cried and vomited, expelling his love in heaves. Lin Ze patted his back and unscrewed the water bottle. After that day, Lin Ze had studied hard. Of course, he could still afford his own tuition—his grandmother had said, As long as you can get in, I’ll support you no matter what. So Lin Ze got in, attending a prestigious high school in Jiangjin.

His bleak life was suddenly filled with sunlight. While other students complained about the poor dorm conditions, for Lin Ze, living in the dorm was pure bliss.

That day, Zheng Jie had come to pick him up specially. Lin Ze looked like a country bumpkin, wearing old, tattered clothes, while Zheng Jie was like a prince on a white horse, taking him to the dorm, treating him to good food, and showing him around by bus.

Jiangjin wasn’t as bustling as Chongqing, but it was enough to open Lin Ze’s eyes. He’d never left home before—the farthest he’d ever gone was a bamboo grove during a school trip. Zheng Jie took him to eat hun douhua¹Meat and tofu stew, and Lin Ze found it strange—who would cook a whole block of tofu in a hotpot with ham slices?

The memory made Lin Ze laugh. Zheng Jie rested his head on Lin Ze’s shoulder, exhausted, and asked, “What’s so funny?”

Lin Ze patted Zheng Jie’s head again and suddenly felt the urge to kiss his lips.

He almost did it—he even leaned in slightly—but then noticed Little Angel watching them in the rearview mirror.

“Are we there yet?” Lin Ze straightened up and asked.

“Almost. Want me to take a few more laps?” Little Angel offered.

Lin Ze laughed helplessly. “No, we’re not here for a joyride.”

Little Angel stopped at the community gate. “See you tomorrow,” Lin Ze called, then carried Zheng Jie upstairs. Zheng Jie’s full weight pressed down on him, making it hard to support him, so Lin Ze resorted to a princess carry.

Zheng Jie, all 1.82 meters of him, became docile in Lin Ze’s arms, resting his head against Lin Ze’s chest with his eyes closed.

“You… okay, seventeenth floor,” Lin Ze greeted a neighbor he often saw but didn’t know, struggling to carry Zheng Jie into the elevator.

The girl smiled and pressed the elevator button for him. “Drank that much, huh?”

Lin Ze shook his head with a wry smile, straining to hold Zheng Jie up. The girl added, “Just the two of you living together? Is this your little brother?”

Lin Ze gritted out, “My… childhood friend.”

Ding. They finally arrived. Lin Ze set Zheng Jie down at the door, his arms trembling from exhaustion. Zheng Jie slumped against the hallway wall, collapsing limply. Lin Ze fumbled for the keys, but Zheng Jie reached up and grabbed his hand.

Lin Ze opened the door with one hand and pulled Zheng Jie inside with the other. “Almost… there… get up!”

Lin Ze carried Zheng Jie into the house and dropped him onto the sofa, collapsing with him. The Alaska immediately pounced, licking their faces. Lin Ze dodged, but Zheng Jie got a faceful of dog slobber and woke up.

Zheng Jie: “…”

Lin Ze: “…”

Zheng Jie suddenly got up and rushed to the bathroom to vomit again, making a mess the moment he entered.

Lin Ze opened his iPad and saw the Alaska following Zheng Jie to watch him vomit. Zheng Jie yelled, “Don’t eat that! You can’t eat that!” Lin Ze jumped up like he’d been electrocuted, dragging the Alaska out by its hind legs. The dog wagged its tail innocently.

Lin Ze locked it in his room, then glanced at the iPad. Hearing the sound of a box falling, he rushed back in. “Don’t touch that!”

Having such an energetic dog was a disaster. Lin Ze put Xie Chenfeng’s things back in the box and shoved it onto the top shelf, then carried the dog to the sofa. Since they hadn’t walked the Alaska today, it was hyperactive, wanting to play. Lin Ze held it with one hand and scrolled through his iPad with the other, seeing a message from that guy again—sent last night.

Hong: [What are you doing?]

Dreamcloud Marsh: [Daydreaming.]

Hong: [That was from last night. You’re always daydreaming.]

Dreamcloud Marsh: [Yeah. Actually, most of the time, daydreaming is just thinking.]

Hong: [When man thinks, God laughs.]

Whether God was laughing or not, Lin Ze didn’t know, but he smiled when he read that. The Alaska tried to lick the iPad screen, and Lin Ze jerked it away, pushing the dog’s head aside in frustration. The dog was so dumb—even when its head was pushed aside, its tongue still hung out.

Zheng Jie came out and went straight to bed. Lin Ze took a shower. When he came out, he heard Zheng Jie call, “A’Ze—come sleep with me—”

Lin Ze fed the dog and cleaned up a small pile of poop it had left in the kitchen, smiling without responding. Zheng Jie started making a fuss in the bedroom. “A’Ze! Come sleep with me—! Hurry up!”

After feeding the dog and patting its head, Lin Ze ran into Zheng Jie’s room and flopped onto the bed, landing on top of him. Zheng Jie let out a pfft, reeking of alcohol. Lin Ze pulled the blanket over them, then threw Zheng Jie’s wallet at the light switch. Snap. The light went out, plunging the room into silence.

“A’Ze, it’s so good to have you,” Zheng Jie whispered.

Lin Ze nodded. The two of them curled up under the blanket, just like when they were kids.

Side by side, drifting off to sleep.

No matter how many troubles or sorrows the world held, once they fell asleep, none of it mattered.

The iPad still glowed in the living room, a new message arriving—but Lin Ze was already asleep.

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  Meat and tofu stew