Chapter 4 – Escaping May Be Shameful But It’s Useful

The KTV gathering lasted until midnight. When it ended, everyone was still in high spirits and agreed to continue the fun during the road trip. Boss Zheng was reliable enough to arrange taxis for all those who had been drinking. Tang Shao, who was the most drunk, was taken away by Qi Fan, while Fang Xiao was entrusted to Gu Yiming.

Perhaps drowsiness made him overlook the fact that Gu Yiming and Fang Xiao had just met that day, but Boss Zheng very naturally sent Fang Xiao’s home address to Gu Yiming. This careless action gave Gu Yiming a sudden sense of responsibility, as if he really were Fang Xiao’s long-time “friend”—someone who could enjoy Fang Xiao’s friendship while also bearing the corresponding obligations.

Fang Xiao was still conscious, just too drunk to stand steadily. When Gu Yiming came over to support him, he turned his head and smiled at him. Gu Yiming let him loop his arm over his shoulder and wrapped an arm around Fang Xiao’s waist. He had initially thought Fang Xiao was about the same size as him, but up close, he realized Fang Xiao was much thinner than he’d imagined. Gu Yiming had regular physical training every week, so his core strength and endurance far surpassed the average person. Though he didn’t have the pronounced muscle definition of a bodybuilder, his physique was undoubtedly solid. Fang Xiao, on the other hand, was about the same height and frame as him but alarmingly thin. Beneath his soft hoodie, Gu Yiming could distinctly feel his ribs pressing against his arm.

According to the navigation, Fang Xiao’s home was in a nearby residential area—no wonder he had arrived at the meeting spot alone so early.

Once home, Fang Xiao rushed straight to the bathroom without even taking off his shoes. Gu Yiming stood alone in the entryway, feeling somewhat lost. He couldn’t gauge the boundaries between himself and Fang Xiao—one moment thinking he should leave, the next worrying that leaving just like that would be too irresponsible.

After a silent pause, he kicked off his shoes and followed barefoot.

Fang Xiao’s home was decorated very simply, resembling more of a studio or dormitory than a home, though it was impeccably clean. Gu Yiming knocked on the frosted glass bathroom door and heard the sound of running water and a slightly weak response. Fang Xiao came out a while later, his ash-gray bangs dripping with water, looking sober but exhausted.

Gu Yiming hesitated. “Are you… okay?”

Fang Xiao smiled, water droplets flickering on his eyelashes. “I’m fine.”

He wiped his face and invited Gu Yiming to sit in the living room, then brought over two glasses of lemon water, treating him like a proper guest. Gu Yiming was a little surprised—he had thought his responsibility was just to see Fang Xiao safely home. He sat at the edge of a fold-out sofa, fingers pressed against the cold glass, feeling slightly awkward.

Fang Xiao chatted briefly about the road trip itinerary, then handed him a few route maps and a packing list. Gu Yiming thought Fang Xiao was about to go over some additional details, but after a pause, Fang Xiao suddenly asked, “Xiao Gu, do you have a place to stay?”

“…A hotel, or the dorm,” Gu Yiming said. This wasn’t a well-considered answer. He had fled the training center in a hurry but still had no destination in mind. He was just a deserter.

“I thought so,” Fang Xiao said, frowning slightly. “I read in reports that your training team usually stays at the center without leaving… Why don’t you stay at my place? Just for tonight and tomorrow night—we’ll leave directly on Tuesday.” He spread his hands jokingly. “Since I’ve already roped you into this, I should show you my sincerity.”

Gu Yiming actually had no doubts about Fang Xiao’s sincerity. Fang Xiao had said he liked him—such a simple statement was enough to make Gu Yiming let his guard down. Someone had been watching him for a long time, acknowledging their fondness for him even when he was a complete failure, expressing interest in him unrelated to his achievements—Gu Yiming was inexperienced in the ways of the world, and no matter how much he suppressed it, his unreasonable self-awareness was still excessive. His intuition always overrode his rationality. With his personality, once he chose to believe, no one could make him doubt.

The guest room in Fang Xiao’s home was a study with a sofa bed. Gu Yiming slept in this unfamiliar place, sinking into familiar silence and darkness.

The emotions that had been floating all day gradually settled, and his thoughts grew clearer. The mistakes he had made last week in Azerbaijan played vividly in his mind—Gu Yiming standing at the firing point, the 1.5-kilogram air pistol feeling as heavy as a thousand pounds. Everything was what he knew best—his gun, the gun stand, his stance, the target position, the venue. But everything had turned unfamiliar. His hold was useless; his muscle memory had completely failed. His heartbeat tugged at the pulse in his arm, the sight repeatedly blurring in his vision, and then the trigger pulled without warning.

5.7 points.

Gu Yiming jolted awake. He didn’t open his eyes—beneath his tightly shut eyelids, his consciousness boiled like the geothermal ocean beneath Enceladus’ icy crust. He heard cars speeding past on the road outside, leaves whistling in the night wind, the mechanical clock’s hands patrolling the desk along their markings. Next door, Fang Xiao seemed to have taken a shower—first the sound of water, then footsteps moving from the bathroom to the living room.

Gu Yiming wondered, Is Fang Xiao also unable to sleep? When he couldn’t sleep, he would count his heartbeat while lying still, keeping his muscles relaxed, eyes closed and unmoving, tricking his body into thinking it was asleep. It was an effective way to rest—even if his brain stayed active until dawn, he’d still have enough energy the next day for training or even competitions.

But tomorrow, he wouldn’t need to train.

The covers had already warmed up, but Gu Yiming still felt the chill of early autumn. Over the course of the day, he had said nothing and tried not to think about anything, but Gu Yiming knew—he was disappointed.

Today, he had left the training base, impulsively gone to Anhe Bridge, met Fang Xiao, encountered an interesting group of people, heard a confession, and was now staying at Fang Xiao’s place. This was completely different from the life he was used to—it was the change he had tried so hard to embrace. But change hadn’t brought any benefits. The sense of responsibility he had tried to grasp wasn’t enough to anchor him. When he closed his eyes, all he saw was the gun stand and his own trembling hands.

The ticking of the second hand scraped at his eardrums. Gu Yiming took a deep breath, threw off the covers, got up, dressed layer by layer, and walked out of the guest room.

Fang Xiao was sitting on the living room sofa typing on his laptop. He wore loose sleepwear, legs curled beneath him on the couch, toes peeking out from the hem. Despite his tall, slender frame, he had managed to shrink himself into a small ball. The laptop rested on his knees, the screen displaying an open project interface. Hearing Gu Yiming open the door, he turned his head, looking slightly surprised. “Xiao Gu? Is something wrong—did I disturb you?”

Gu Yiming shook his head. He stood in the doorway for a moment before saying, “I’m going back to the training center.”

Fang Xiao was stunned. “At this hour—Xiao Gu, is something not to your liking?”

Gu Yiming looked at Fang Xiao. Perhaps thanks to the shower, Fang Xiao no longer seemed drunk—just slightly weary. That weariness made Gu Yiming feel guilty. He believed Fang Xiao truly admired him, valued him, and had treated him well, but the emotions Gu Yiming carried couldn’t be easily dispelled by the kindness of a stranger. He had to keep his shell tightly shut. Gu Yiming didn’t want to hurt anyone—he could only try to push away the fingers knocking at his shell as it closed.

“No.”

He added, “It’s my problem.”

He squeezed out these words like toothpaste, thinking it would take much longer to reach an understanding with Fang Xiao. But after a moment of eye contact, Fang Xiao quickly replied, “I’ll take you.”

In the end, Fang Xiao didn’t take him.

Gu Yiming had planned to take a taxi, but Anhe Bridge was too remote—all he encountered along the way were dump trucks. He finally hailed a cab on Xiangshan Road and arrived at the training center at 3 a.m. It wasn’t the training season, so the dormitory had no curfew. Gu Yiming swiped his ID at the gate and stepped into the hallway. The silence pressed in around him, magnifying the sound of his footsteps.

The shooting team’s dormitory had two-person rooms. Gu Yiming’s roommate, Li Yeqing, specialized in 50m pistol and was currently in Italy for the World Cup Final. Gu Yiming lay in bed for a while, then took out his phone.

Gu Yiming’s WeChat was usually filled with group messages—the last personal conversation had been Coach Zhu’s one-on-one training notice. He stared at the rows of chat logs, all over a month old, then hovered his thumb over the newly added contact at the top, lost in thought. He remembered Fang Xiao’s slightly awkward expression when he left and the warmth of Fang Xiao’s breath as he spoke into his ear.

He felt guilty.

Gu Yiming thought for a long time. He weighed the pros and cons over and over in his mind, carefully arranging his words, but in the end, he chose the simplest phrasing.

—Sorry.

—When’s the road trip?

Fang Xiao replied after a while.

—The departure meetup? Tuesday at noon. I’ll pick you up at the shooting range entrance?

—No need to apologize, I was too reckless [facepalm]

Reckless about what? The one who had agreed to stay over immediately after hearing the invitation was none other than Gu Yiming himself, desperate for change. He was like a drowning man sinking into quicksand, grasping at any opportunity for transformation. He trusted, he yearned, he pleaded. Rationality couldn’t control his emotions, just as his brain couldn’t control his trembling fingers.

But rationality didn’t mean much either. Rationality had cooled Gu Yiming’s excitement from the unfamiliar environment and strangers, making him realize how meaningless this degree of change was—but rationality couldn’t tell him what was meaningful. Gu Yiming was so indecisive—first making meaningless changes, then growing despondent and even fleeing because of their meaninglessness, and now feeling guilty and regretful about his escape.

He was at a loss, like a fledgling bird just released from a glass cage.

Gu Yiming didn’t reply. He reread Fang Xiao’s message twice, then clicked into Fang Xiao’s photos.

Fang Xiao didn’t post much on his Moments—occasionally sharing ads for recording studios or live event promotions, but mostly photos of still lifes paired with a couple of obscure literary quotes, averaging one or two posts a month. Gu Yiming scrolled down and quickly reached the earliest post, dated three years ago. He saw a photo tagged in Shenyang, Liaoning—the background beautifully blurred, the focal point a hand gripping a gun.

The gun was a young Morini CM 162. The body was clean, with only two inspection stickers¹At major ISSF competitions (like World Cups and Championships), all firearms and equipment must pass “equipment control” before an athlete can compete. Officials check trigger weight, overall weight, grip dimensions, etc., to ensure they comply with the rules. Once a pistol passes inspection, it’s marked with an official sticker for that competition.. The hand holding it was also clean, youthful—as if it had never endured hardship or failure.

Gu Yiming stared at the photo for a long time, until the screen went dark on its own.

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  At major ISSF competitions (like World Cups and Championships), all firearms and equipment must pass “equipment control” before an athlete can compete. Officials check trigger weight, overall weight, grip dimensions, etc., to ensure they comply with the rules. Once a pistol passes inspection, it’s marked with an official sticker for that competition.