Chapter 14 – It’s Alright to Cry

There were plenty of seats on the bus, and the two took their places. Jiang Lou said, “Don’t go back this afternoon; those guys will likely wait until school lets out.”

Moreover, Xucheng High School was currently hosting a sports meet, its gates wide open, making it easy to sneak in.

The last time they encountered them was after evening study hours, when the darkness concealed even a brawl. Now, in broad daylight, if school administrators got involved…

It was indeed dangerous.

But Li Tang had a mission to accomplish. After some thought, he sent a WeChat message to the only radio station member he could contact—Su Qinhan—to take a sick leave.

She didn’t reply with a message but instead called him directly. “You’re not faking an illness, are you?”

Jiang Lou was looking out the window, and Li Tang turned slightly, whispering into the phone, “No, I really have a fever.”

“Well then, show me a photo of your thermometer reading.”

“…”

“I was just joking. You actually planned to take a picture?”

Li Tang was momentarily speechless.

“Ah, forget it. Anyway, Jiang Lou won’t be around this afternoon.” Su Qinhan said, “Considering you chose several of Jiang Lou’s scripts, I’ll help you this once.”

“…”

“Thanks.”

After hanging up, Li Tang noticed that Jiang Lou had turned to look at him, his gaze landing on him without much meaning.

Assuming he was caught talking to someone, Li Tang hesitated whether to confess, but Jiang Lou spoke first, “If you’re going home, get off at the next two stops and transfer to Bus No. 21.”

Li Tang was taken aback. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

Jiang Lou didn’t say another word, crossing his arms and closing his eyes to rest.

For the following thirty minutes, the world was unusually quiet.

None of the imagined scenarios unfolded—the person falling asleep and leaning on the shoulder of the person beside them, or the two sharing a pair of earphones to listen to the same song. Jiang Lou dozed against the back of the seat, enduring the driver’s aggressive driving style, which often resulted in sudden stops and sharp turns. At most, his body would tilt slightly, and when the road straightened out, he would right himself again.

Li Tang guessed that this was a skill honed from frequent bus rides.

As they approached the terminal stop, Jiang Lou woke up. He stood up and walked to the rear door to disembark, and Li Tang followed suit, struggling to reach the back of the bus while holding onto the overhead rings.

Sensing Jiang Lou’s gaze, Li Tang explained, “A friend of mine lives around here.”

When the bus came to a stop and the doors opened, only two people got off.

It was a desolate area. As far as the eye could see, there were only gray, low-rise factory buildings and cement roads crisscrossed with potholes.

Jiang Lou led the way, passing by a place called “Fuxin Fertilizer Factory,” before turning at the intersection.

And Li Tang, pretending to have reached his destination, bid farewell to Jiang Lou at the previous intersection, hiding behind a corner and peeking out.

He watched as Jiang Lou passed through the front gate of the fertilizer factory, walking toward the stairs leading underground. His figure disappeared step by step below the horizon.

Once he was sure he wouldn’t be spotted, Li Tang followed the path to the iron staircase.

A rumbling noise emanated from below, and upon closer listening, he could faintly distinguish screams and applause.

There were many people down there, causing the ground to tremble.

After gathering his courage for a while, Li Tang took a deep breath and began descending the steps.

But he couldn’t enter.

At the entrance to the unknown underground venue, a security guard-like figure asked Li Tang to present identification.

Li Tang’s heart leapt to his throat, and he fumbled in his pocket to retrieve his ID card. He was seventeen years old, still a year away from adulthood.

As expected, the security guard glanced at his ID and waved him away. “That won’t do.”

Having failed in his “stalking,” Li Tang felt dejected.

He started wandering around the area, wondering what kind of place it was—a basement bar or a private casino?

Neither seemed suitable for high school students.

Even nineteen-year-old high school students—Li Tang couldn’t help but worry.

On his way back to the bus stop, he received a call from Cao Yang.

Initially unwilling to answer, his finger slipped and pressed the green button to receive the call. On the other end, Cao Yang’s anxious voice immediately rang out, “Tangbao, you finally answered me, Tangbao!”

Li Tang closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on.

He stopped by the roadside to listen to Cao Yang’s chatter.

“I’m sorry. I only found out yesterday that Qibao called you… About your sexual orientation, there was a time when our club’s vice president mentioned that you didn’t have a partner and wanted to introduce you to a girlfriend. I told him not to make random introductions, that Li Tang doesn’t need a girlfriend… I swear that’s exactly what I said, word for word. I don’t know how that person guessed you liked guys and told others.”

Li Tang responded with an “Oh”: “So that’s how it was.”

Cao Yang nearly cried. “Don’t doubt me. I really didn’t spread the news.”

“I believe you.”

“Then are you still mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad.”

“But your tone sounds like you are.”

Li Tang suddenly felt a sense of powerlessness. He remembered Jiang Lou’s words, “Are you tired?”

Wasn’t he tired? Continuously swallowing his anger, whose thin face was he preserving?

“So you are angry,” Li Tang gathered his courage. “Your girlfriend lacks security and treats me as her rival, baselessly questioning and hurting me. Can’t I be angry?”

Although he felt more hurt than anger.

“What did she say to you?” Cao Yang was caught off guard. “Girls just overthink things. Don’t take it personally—”

“This isn’t just about the two of us. The root cause is you. So please don’t contact me again until you sort out your relationship.”

Li Tang continued, “Thank you for the birthday cake. When her birthday comes, make sure to buy her one that’s bigger and more expensive, so she won’t overthink things anymore.”

After saying all this in one breath, Li Tang hung up the call, realizing that his hands were shaking and cold sweat had broken out on his back.

Used to being a coward, he rarely stood his ground, and now he had made himself this way. Li Tang bit his lip hard, thinking to himself, How embarrassing.

Fortunately, no one saw him.

Just as he was relieved, a chuckle came from the nearby booth.

Turning his head, he saw the security guard of the Fuxin Fertilizer Factory leaning out of the window, grinning. “Young folks these days have such complicated love lives.”

Li Tang was speechless.

His bravado vanished in the wind, and as Li Tang was about to slip away, the man added, “It looks like it’s going to rain. Come in for a bit.”

Actually, he hadn’t intended to enter.

Li Tang had grown accustomed to the unpredictable weather in Xucheng, but remembering that he had just recovered from a fever due to getting caught in the rain, he accepted the invitation.

Besides, he had other motives.

Factories surrounded this area, mostly closed during holidays, except for the guard booths where security personnel worked around the clock. Since they spent long periods here, they must be familiar with the local situation.

Li Tang wasn’t good at interacting with strangers. Five minutes after entering the room, the sound of rain grew louder outside, and he still hadn’t figured out how to start a conversation or subtly guide it toward the topic of the underground stairs.

It was the security guard who broke the silence, noticing Li Tang’s silence and assuming he was still troubled by his “love life.” He turned on the TV in the booth and tuned it to the local channel.

A social news segment was playing, detailing a story where a man suspected his wife of cheating and assaulted her boss at her workplace. The man was now detained.

The guard chuckled as he watched. “So true. Three people in a relationship may be lively, but it’s too crowded.”

Li Tang was once again left speechless.

I didn’t even try to squeeze in.

After the commercial break, another news story played—street brawls among young people resulting in serious injuries. The guard, sipping his tea, muttered, “This isn’t even serious. Last time, an ambulance came here, and the two youngsters carried out were bloodied and unrecognizable.”

Li Tang sensed something, asking, “Was it also a fight?”

“It could be considered one.” The guard looked out the window, glancing in the direction of the underground stairs. “During the day, it’s a legitimate boxing gym. But at night or on weekends, the activity inside… tsk…”

It was a boxing gym.

Still in Li Tang’s unfamiliar territory, he asked, “Isn’t a boxing gym supposed to be a place for fitness? Why would anyone get hurt?”

The guard wore a knowing expression. “Do you know about combat sports? Have you heard of underground fighting? People risk their lives on stage while others throw money from the stands. Kids like you should never go to such places for a few coins and ruin yourselves.”

An underground boxing ring.

“Bang—”

With a heavy and solid blow, the opponent fell to the ground under the impact, struggling several times but ultimately unable to rise again.

The referee approached, raised Jiang Lou’s hand in victory, and the arena erupted in applause and cheers.

As Jiang Lou descended from the stage, someone handed him a towel. Still catching his breath, he took the towel and wiped his face before covering his left ear.

His deaf ear, which normally couldn’t detect any sound, paradoxically produced a piercing ringing when exposed to high-decibel audio in a confined space.

Rare moments when Jiang Lou felt pain.

In the backstage area, Old Zhang removed Jiang Lou’s gear and proceeded to check his injuries—his head and face were unharmed thanks to wearing a protective helmet, but bruises were already forming on his shoulders, chest, and abdomen.

Even with excellent defensive skills and well-built muscles, injuries on the boxing stage were common.

“Should have let you rest properly over the weekend and not come here,” Old Zhang sighed. “If you kick the bucket one day, your dad will blame me for not taking care of you. How am I supposed to explain myself to him…”

“He wouldn’t,” Jiang Lou’s tone remained calm. “He left me behind to save others. Why would he blame you for not taking care of me?”

“If anyone should blame, I should be the one blaming him.”

After showering and changing into his clothes, Jiang Lou pulled up the zipper of his jacket as he ascended the stairs.

Upon stepping onto the ground, he stepped into a puddle. The road resembled a canvas with uneven shades, dark spots in low areas, and reflective patches where water had collected, indicating that it had just rained.

In the center of this canvas stood a person.

Pausing briefly, Jiang Lou approached, a smile on his face when he reached Li Tang. “So, your friend didn’t invite you to dinner?”

It was four in the afternoon, far from the time when lights would typically be lit. The sky was gray, but it was enough for Jiang Lou to see the concern in Li Tang’s eyes.

Over the years, he seemed to have never learned to hide his emotions. Jiang Lou recalled a few hours earlier on the bus, when Li Tang had looked at him with admiration, and even further back, when he had gazed at him with bright eyes and said in a childish voice, “Being able to write so many words, big brother, you’re amazing.”

How sincere.

Yet for the past twelve years, whenever Jiang Lou remembered this scene, it felt like a handful of snowwater splashed onto his heart, bone-chillingly cold.

Li Tang hadn’t noticed, still worried and not even bothering to cover his lie. “I heard it’s a boxing gym there.”

Jiang Lou took a deep breath of the outdoor air. “Did you go inside?”

“No, I couldn’t get in.” Li Tang asked, “How did you get in? What do you do inside…?”

“What do you hope I do inside?”

“I don’t want you to go in there; it’s not a place for you.”

Jiang Lou was taken aback, then laughed again. “Then where should I be? In a mall, cinema, or one of those coffee shops you frequent?”

He was laughing at Li Tang’s naivety. “Those cost money. School costs money too. To live, you can’t avoid eating, drinking, urinating, defecating, and sleeping—all of which require money. I can earn money by going in there to ensure my survival. You tell me not to go in…where else should I go, where should I be?”

Li Tang’s eyes dimmed.

He remembered seeing large bruises on Jiang Lou’s arm and the hundred-pound punching bag hanging in his house.

It wasn’t just decoration but his means of making a living.

Not oblivious to the sarcasm in Jiang Lou’s words, Li Tang picked up the question he hadn’t finished asking on his birthday. “Then, was your school leave because of your ear…”

“Yes,” Jiang Lou seemed determined to satisfy all his curiosities. “In second or third grade, I got into a fight with some middle schoolers. Four against one. One of them swung a flower pot and hit my head. On the way to the hospital, I lost hearing in my left ear.”

At that time, he had already moved out of his aunt’s house. She was upset that her attempts to obtain ownership of Jiang Lou’s father’s house had failed and claimed that the foster care allowance she had received was depleted after paying for one surgery, refusing to cover subsequent treatment expenses. Later, a welfare organization raised funds to continue his treatment, but the causes of the neurological hearing loss caused by brain injury were difficult to identify. Two consecutive surgeries failed, and his left ear was classified as having severe or profound hearing loss. Even the attending physician advised not to continue treatment and suggested implanting a cochlear implant or using a hearing aid.

At the time, hearing aids were still exotic items among children. Jiang Lou went to school wearing one and was ridiculed by older boys. They even pulled the hearing aid out of his ear and stomped on it.

Jiang Lou fought back, almost ending up in the hospital again.

This time, not only the school but also the welfare organization that sponsored him deemed the child unruly and unmanageable, born to be trouble.

The adults around him left one by one. He was first taken to his aunt’s house, then transferred to an orphanage, going back and forth, and in the end, returned to his empty home.

This experience was not something Jiang Lou found difficult to talk about. Whenever anyone asked, he would truthfully recount it.

Therefore, he knew all the possible reactions—shock, sighs, or pity—humans often feel empathy towards tragic stories. Even though Jiang Lou had repeated the story countless times, long since numb and indifferent, as if telling someone else’s story from the perspective of an outsider.

As a member of the general public, Li Tang’s reaction would inevitably be the same as those people.

Like a wealthy young master ignorant of the hardships of life, he probably had an even greater flood of sympathy.

This was within Jiang Lou’s expectations and the trap he set to lure the fox.

However, after he finished telling his story, he saw confusion and bewilderment in Li Tang’s eyes.

There seemed to be… helplessness in that gaze?

“If you don’t want to smile, you don’t have to,” Li Tang, slightly shorter, looked up at him. “You asked if I was tired, but you seem even more exhausted.”

The smile froze on his lips.

It felt like suddenly stepping into a void, and the sensation of weightlessness caused Jiang Lou’s heart to plummet.

When he came to his senses, he felt ridiculous.

What Li Tang said was ridiculous, and his own reaction was equally ridiculous.

How could someone, after hearing his story, not react with sighs but think that he was putting on a forced smile?

Instinctively, he snorted and asked, “Are you delirious from the fever?”

Li Tang shook his head. “I took the medicine; the fever has subsided.”

It was the medicine Jiang Lou had given him.

Afraid Jiang Lou wouldn’t believe him, Li Tang grabbed his hand and placed it on his forehead. “Feel it.”

The cold wind chilled Jiang Lou’s palm, making Li Tang want to draw closer to warm him.

“If you’re sad, don’t force a smile.”

“You’re only nineteen; it’s alright to cry.”