Chapter Ninety: Lingering Emotions

Old Zhang took Guai Guai and headed straight for Old Bai's place. At first he walked very quickly, and when he met familiar neighbors along the way, he did not even stop to greet them. Yet once the identical row of low-rise apartment buildings came into view, he slowed his pace.

Guai Guai, too, grew hesitant, shuffling along and refusing to go forward.

Old Zhang gathered his courage and tightened his grip on the leash, muttering to himself as if speaking to Guai Guai: "Don't be afraid. We're just going to take a look. If I don't take a look, I won't be at ease. That person... sigh... how could it turn out like that... my heart's in such a state... and that nephew of Xiao Cheng's, that young man, he better not... sigh..."

With those half-muttered words, man and dog finally reached the building.

Old Zhang glanced at the streetlamp and looked furtively around. Guai Guai, like owner like dog, twisted its head about and kept sniffing the air.

He did not see Fang Xi. The neighborhood was still the same ordinary neighborhood, as though the fright of the night before had been nothing but a dream. Day had broken, the dream had ended, and the things within it had naturally vanished.

Guai Guai gradually relaxed, though Old Zhang remained tense.

He hesitated for a while longer in front of the building. Only when Guai Guai whimpered in grievance did he finally step forward and press the apartment number.

The doorbell chimed a familiar little tune, one often heard around the complex. It rang through one round with no answer, then began again, repeating three times before shutting off automatically.

Old Zhang's pulse quickened with it. Before the bell had even finished, he reached into his pocket, only to find it empty.

He had rushed out that morning with nothing at all in his pockets.

Striking his forehead in sudden realization, he turned back with Guai Guai as the dead doorbell fell silent.

This time Guai Guai resisted, anxiously trying to pull toward the streetlamp and the strip of greenery beside it.

But Old Zhang paid no heed and hurried straight home.

Guai Guai could not outstubborn him, nor dare pull too hard; in the end it could only be dragged back, unwilling and resentful.

After the round trip, sweat beaded on Old Zhang's forehead as though he had gone out for a morning run. His hands were sweaty too, and when he tried to unlock the door with his fingerprint, he failed the first time.

He had gone out early without a word, and when he came home he was still silent. He did not even bother to wipe Guai Guai's paws properly. He merely dropped the leash, kicked off his shoes, and rushed into the bedroom, leaving Guai Guai huddled at the entryway, utterly aggrieved.

Wang Jia had already finished breakfast and was about to go out for groceries. Seeing this, she could not help but curse him out: "Good heavens, you damn old fool, what on earth is wrong with you first thing in the morning? You were like this last night, and now again at dawn! What are you doing? You didn't even eat breakfast! I left porridge and pickles on the table." As she scolded him, she helped Guai Guai off with the leash and wiped its paws.

Guai Guai rubbed against Wang Jia's leg, then hopped up, trying to reach the leash again.

Wang Jia grew suspicious and turned toward the bedroom.

She could hear voices inside.

Patting Guai Guai on the head, Wang Jia went into the room. Guai Guai became even more frantic, circling in place.

"...Huh? Really? Oh, I see. As long as they're all right, that's good. Ah, no... it's nothing... all right, all right. You go on traveling. Mm-hmm. Have fun." Old Zhang had already finished the call by then, but he had not put down the phone; instead, he was still searching for something on it.

"Who were you calling? Xiao Cheng?" Wang Jia guessed.

When it came to travel, among the relatives and friends they knew, only Cheng Yao was out traveling at the moment.

Old Zhang did not answer. He simply tapped the screen and started another call.

"You damn old man!" Wang Jia slapped him in annoyance, and then heard Guai Guai barking outside. She left Old Zhang aside and went to see what was wrong with the dog. "What's the matter, Guai Guai? What's wrong, Guai Guai?"

Old Zhang paid no attention to his wife's receding voice or the scolding and barking that followed.

As soon as the call connected, he hurriedly asked, "Old Cui! It's Old Zhang here. I need to ask you something!"

"Eh?"

"Tell me, do you still remember that Fang Xi who came to our workshop back then? I remember afterward you went to the office and even attended meetings with Fang Xi, didn't you?"

Old Cui on the other end was silent for a moment before replying, "Why are you calling first thing in the morning to ask about General Manager Fang?"

"Nothing, really..." Old Zhang faltered.

Old Cui found it odd, but still said, "I did see General Manager Fang a few times afterward, but only at industry conferences. In those settings he was the speaker, and I was sitting below listening. I never had a chance to speak with him. He may not even remember me."

"Then, um..." Old Zhang no longer knew what to say. He stared blankly ahead.

Among everyone he could still contact, only Old Cui had seen Fang Xi afterward. Fang Xi and he had been people from entirely different worlds to begin with, with only that brief overlap between them.

And even if he asked now, what could he learn? And after learning it, what could he do?

That pair of eyes, gleaming with red light, rose again in Old Zhang's mind.

He could not help shivering, the hairs on his back standing on end.

"Speaking of General Manager Fang, I do remember something," Old Cui suddenly said.

"What is it?" Old Zhang asked quickly.

"Back then, didn't we always say that General Manager Fang was so capable even though he was just a young graduate, and that he was already so skilled at frontline work?" Old Cui said. "It was only when I attended those industry conferences that I learned General Manager Fang came from a distinguished family background. His family situation was rather complicated, too. Seems he was an illegitimate child or something, and even his household registration was irregular at first before it was finally settled. I only overheard bits and pieces from the outer circle. Some people greeted General Manager Fang and even brought up his father, saying things like a tiger father breeds no weak son, or that he looked exactly like his dad."

Old Zhang froze. "Looked exactly like him?"

"That's what those people said," Old Cui replied.

Old Zhang mulled it over. "Looked exactly like him, looked exactly like him... looked exactly like him..."

"Have you gone a bit daft?" Old Cui cut off his chanting. "You called me this early in the morning just to ask about General Manager Fang. What exactly happened to you?"

Old Zhang gave a wry smile. "I... last night, I saw someone who looked exactly like Fang Xi... and he was young too."

Old Cui let out an "Ah." "Then why didn't you go up and say hello? Maybe he was General Manager Fang's son. Though no, that doesn't seem right either. Didn't General Manager Fang settle abroad afterward? Has he come back to the country?"

"I don't know. I didn't go up and say hello. That person..." Thinking of those hateful, terrifying eyes, Old Zhang gave a violent start and could not continue.

"Even if you ran into him, so what? It has nothing to do with you, does it?" Old Cui said carelessly.

Old Zhang sighed. "Yes... it's just that I kept thinking about it, and even dreamed about it all night."

"You're thinking too much."

Was he thinking too much? Old Zhang asked himself in silence. He wanted to agree with Old Cui, yet something about it felt wrong.

He suddenly remembered the solitary, forlorn Fang Xi he had glimpsed on Dragon Rising Mountain all those years ago; he remembered the spirited, proud Fang Xi of that same year; and then he thought of the one from last night... Old Zhang cut off the train of thought.

That fear still lingered in his heart, impossible to shake.

Old Cui exchanged a few more idle words before hanging up.

Old Zhang held the phone in his hand, lost in thought for a long while.

Only when someone tapped him did he start up as if startled.

Wang Jia clutched her chest and spoke first: "You're going to scare someone to death!"

"I'm the one nearly scared to death by you," Old Zhang said, clutching his own chest as well.

"What exactly has gotten into you since last night? What happened? Did something occur when you walked the dog? You were asking me yesterday about some person who looked exactly the same... who did you see, exactly?" Wang Jia sat down on the bed and softened her tone as she questioned him.

Old Zhang sat down too. After sighing for a while, he told her what had happened the night before.

"Isn't it just someone you used to know?" Wang Jia could not understand his lingering unease.

Old Zhang himself did not know how to describe it. He kept feeling an inexplicable terror within him, and he could not shake the sense that such a Fang Xi was bizarre, even dangerous, as though something terrible were about to happen.

"If it really was that Fang Xi from your old factory, then what does that have to do with Xiao Cheng's nephew?" Wang Jia asked.

"Could it be because of that girl? I didn't get a clear look at her face, maybe..."

"I think you're just too idle and imagining things." Wang Jia interrupted him. "Hurry up and eat breakfast. I already took Guai Guai down to pee. Eat quickly and go play chess. Stop staying home and brooding." Then she added, "And you don't need to go with me to see that Dead Resentment Bell either. I'll have our son go with me..." Halfway through, she gave him a suspicious look. "You're not making all this up just so you won't have to go to the movie with me, are you?"

"What are you talking about? I think you're the one imagining things." Old Zhang answered irritably.

Wang Jia snorted. "I'm going to buy groceries. Remember to wash the dishes after breakfast."

...

Cheng Yao had a rather busy morning.

First came a call from Old Zhang, who probed around and asked indirectly about his "nephew" again.

Cheng Yao always felt that Old Zhang spoke with fear, as though he had been frightened, and his words came out somewhat haltingly. Old Zhang's behavior last night was understandable enough; after all, he had stumbled upon someone else's awkward business, and to feel awkward in turn was only natural. But his unease this morning was harder to make sense of.

After hanging up, Cheng Yao kept turning his phone over in his hand and fell into thought.

An idea flashed through his mind, but before he could grasp it, a new call cut him off.

The caller was his high school classmate, Jiang Yifan.

The two had been close teammates on the same soccer team, with excellent coordination on the field; off the field they had sat at the same desk, their grades were about the same, and they had gone on to the same university in different departments. Even in college, they had joined the soccer club together. When Cheng Yao got married, Jiang Yifan was one of the groomsmen. When Jiang Yifan got married, Bai Xiao had already passed away, and Cheng Yao attended alone, giving him a very large red envelope. After the banquet, Jiang Yifan left his bride behind and dragged Cheng Yao to a bar for a private drink, only returning to the hotel suite on the upper floor after his role as groom was done.

Their contact had not been frequent, but it had been steady. After marriage, Jiang Yifan had parents, wife, and children to care for, while Cheng Yao had four elderly relatives to support. In any case, they were adults with family burdens of their own, and could not possibly spend their days together the way they had as students.

Now, though, things were good. They were both retired, with plenty of time.

Jiang Yifan first asked about how Cheng Yao's father-in-law's affairs had been handled—the memorial service he had attended—before saying, "I've just finished my retirement paperwork, and I was thinking of taking a trip. You've handled yours too, right?"

"Mm. I'm out traveling," Cheng Yao prevaricated.

"Ah?" Jiang Yifan was quite surprised. "With who?"

"Just me. I came out for a walk on my own." Cheng Yao was already getting rather practiced at this excuse.

"Going alone is good too. You can go wherever you want. I was even thinking of asking you to go on a road trip with me. We could bring Cheng Yang too—three people, take turns driving, and it'd be easier..." Jiang Yifan said. "You drove out there, did you?"

He knew Cheng Yao well and naturally also knew Cheng Yang.

"Cheng Yang hasn't retired yet," Cheng Yao said with a laugh. "He called me before too, saying that once he retired he wanted to go on a road trip and drag me along."

"Haha, right. He still has a year, doesn't he? Once retirement comes, it's just a few things like that. By the way, did you see the messages in the high school group? They're planning a class reunion," Jiang Yifan said.

"I'm afraid I can't make it," Cheng Yao replied, not feeling regretful.

After high school graduation, everyone had gone their separate ways, and not all had stayed in the same city to study. Only a few had been admitted to the same schools, and contact naturally faded little by little.

Now that everyone had reached retirement age, bringing up a reunion was nothing more than idle boredom, a pretext to go out and have fun, not some great longing for old classmates.

Jiang Yifan, however, was planning to attend. He had had a good family background since childhood, good grades, a good job after graduation, and a very good spouse. Decades later, he still had a happy and fulfilling life; his twin daughters were equally promising, just like him, with good grades and good jobs, only they had not found partners yet. He was exactly the sort of person who could show off at a reunion, and of course he was willing to attend such a gathering. More than that, he had been well liked in class back then, had served on the student council for three years, was familiar enough with people in other classes to call them by name, and as a member of the soccer team, he had been quite the figure during his school days.

"If you're not coming to the class reunion, then you have to come to our soccer team's get-together, right?" Jiang Yifan said casually. "I'll drive to pick you up. Are you flying back or taking the train?"

At those words, Cheng Yao felt, for the first time, a trace of regret.

He looked down at his own youthful hands and at the brand-new wedding ring, and smiled. "I'm afraid I won't make it."

"What do you mean, won't make it? Just buy a plane ticket and come back. Where exactly are you traveling? You haven't gone off into some remote mountain hollow, have you? Is there an airport or train station nearby?" Jiang Yifan pressed.

Unlike Cheng Yang, who had talked at length about his own plans and tried carefully to persuade Cheng Yao, Jiang Yifan had the air of someone ready to decide for him.

When Bai Xiao died, Jiang Yifan had also been the one to drag him out the door, pushing him into all kinds of social gatherings.

"I just left Dragon City and got on the first vehicle I saw. I don't have much of a plan; I just brought some money and set out," Cheng Yao said, making up an excuse with some helplessness.

"You're far too spontaneous. Don't go wandering into some deep mountain forest and run into danger," Jiang Yifan said, worried and displeased.

"I'm riding buses. How could I end up in some deep mountain forest? I'm just wandering around, looking at a few places, seeing other cities, feeling the different local cultures and customs." Cheng Yao changed his tone.

Jiang Yifan went on complaining, "Fine, then go experience different cultures and customs. Hey, if you don't come, Lao Dui is definitely going to call you out. Last year, he and the vice-captain even flew back through a typhoon to attend the gathering. This year's retirement reunion for our class, and one of the people involved is missing... Did you see the messages in the group? The date for the college soccer club reunion still hasn't been set. You absolutely have to come back then."

"Mm, it's hard to say."

The words had barely left his mouth before Cheng Yao could almost imagine Jiang Yifan staring wide-eyed on the other end.

Still, no matter how Jiang Yifan wore out his tongue, he could not persuade Cheng Yao, and in the end he could only hang up in frustration.

Cheng Yao looked at his phone and let out a soft sigh.