Chapter Ninety-One: Time

Not long after the call ended, Bai Xiao came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of sliced fruit.

“Whose call was that? That’s been several this morning, hasn’t it?” Bai Xiao sat down beside Cheng Yao.

Cheng Yao smiled. “It was Jiang Yifan.”

“Ah.” Bai Xiao took a small bite of mango. “Let’s keep lunch simple and have noodles. The beef still needs a while longer to stew.”

“Mm.” Cheng Yao slowly swallowed a piece of mango too, glancing at Bai Xiao.

With one hand holding a fork and the other her phone, Bai Xiao was looking down at something on the screen. Suddenly she looked up and held the phone out toward Cheng Yao. “Look at this. Let’s take a trip here in a little while. This season is perfect for it.”

Cheng Yao skimmed it twice. “Mm... Shengsheng.” His expression suddenly turned solemn, and he looked straight into Bai Xiao’s eyes.

Bai Xiao froze. “What is it?”

“Have you ever thought about seeing your old friends?” Cheng Yao asked, and the moment the words left his mouth, his heart began to thud wildly.

Bai Xiao’s hand dropped to her thigh, and her gaze fell with it, distant for a moment.

Cheng Yao reached out and took her hand. Their rings touched. “Don’t keep everything bottled up.”

What should be between us is something we can say to each other without reserve.

That was what Cheng Yao wanted to say, but he could not bring himself to speak it aloud. He felt somewhat guilty, and even more lost.

Bai Xiao said, “I have thought about it... But we finally started over. Let’s not... let’s not be too greedy. This is already very good.” As she spoke, she leaned sideways against Cheng Yao. “I don’t want to think about those things. Meeting them... Huihui and the others... they must all have their own families by now, their own lives, right? They...”

Cheng Yao put an arm around her shoulders. “Mm. Huihui has a son. Her husband is that senior from the biology department.”

“Really?” Bai Xiao straightened at once, surprised. “They got back together?”

“Yes.” Cheng Yao smiled. The first time he received the wedding invitation, he had thought the same.

“What about Yuyu?” Bai Xiao asked again.

“Yuyu married the son of a colleague of her father’s, but once the child got into college, they divorced. Huihui said the two of them are on completely bad terms now. When Yuyu’s daughter got married, they even held three separate banquets: one in the son-in-law’s hometown, one for Yuyu’s relatives and friends, and one for her ex-husband’s side.” Cheng Yao sighed.

“Ah...” Bai Xiao was so shocked she could not speak, just as Cheng Yao himself had reacted when he first heard it.

“Your cousin never married all these years. The company he ran was sold long ago, and he bought three apartments and became a landlord. A few years ago he sold one of the apartments and moved to the countryside to retire. Your cousin found a partner through online dating, got married, and then emigrated together, even bringing your aunt along with them...” Cheng Yao slowly listed the changes in Bai Xiao’s relatives and friends over these decades.

His father had only one brother, and his mother was an only child. Their family was simple; the people who could even be called relatives were distant ones, usually only seen at holidays and festivals. Bai Xiao’s side had a few more relatives, but they had long since scattered in different directions, making it hard to gather.

Bai Xiao listened quietly, and little by little leaned back against Cheng Yao again.

After recounting everything he could think of, Cheng Yao fell silent.

After a long while, Bai Xiao finally said, “Thirty-five years... It feels like a dream. So many things have changed.”

Everything is still here, yet nothing is the same. No, even many of the things themselves have changed. Like the shops along the street outside their neighborhood gate: the barbecue place they used to order takeout from all the time had become a fruit wholesaler; the little produce shop they often visited had knocked through into the two neighboring storefronts and been turned into a small market; the convenience store was still a convenience store, but with a different owner; the new milk tea shop was already the third trendy shop to open in that unit this year, and Cheng Yao could not even remember what had been there before; the spicy hotpot place had been renovated twice, yet now looked old and cramped again, not clean enough, nowhere near as good as the new chain hotpot restaurant one more street over; even the road had been relaid several times with fresh tiles, the bus routes at the entrance had changed once, and a new intersecting line had been added to the subway station...

“But you’re still by my side.” Bai Xiao tightened her arms around Cheng Yao’s waist and buried her face in his chest. “As long as we’re still together, that’s enough.”

Cheng Yao instinctively held her tighter. Lowering his head to rest against Bai Xiao’s soft hair, he let out a quiet sigh.

...

In the dark television room, the shots on the small screen kept zooming closer, closer, closer.

The face Bai Xiao hid in Cheng Yao’s arms showed through a little. Her jaw was delicate, her neck slender, much of it hidden by long hair, yet the dark, greenish skin was still exposed to the camera.

The lens moved slowly along Bai Xiao’s arm and captured her hands.

Fair hands, glittering diamond rings—so beautiful, and yet all at once they seemed to have been enchanted into growing rapidly. The skin wrinkled like dead bark, and the fine cracks on the ring widened several degrees. The black nails gleamed with an ominous light.

Bai Xiao’s hand tightened as she clutched Cheng Yao harder.

The shot changed, becoming Cheng Yao’s calm face. As if sensing something, he suddenly turned his head.

Bai Xiao’s body jolted, then she lifted her face, revealing her usual appearance.

“What are you looking at?” Bai Xiao asked, her hands already around Cheng Yao, though those hands were still grotesquely distorted.

“Nothing.” Cheng Yao withdrew his gaze and smiled. “Something just flew past. Looked like a little bug.”

“No way. The windows are all shut tight.” Bai Xiao’s hands returned to normal and withdrew from Cheng Yao.

Maybe it flew in through the front door, with people going in and out,” Cheng Yao said.

The camera turned with his voice.

On the sofa, the doctor narrowed his deep blue eyes.

Ten fingernails whispered to one another.

Tap.

The doctor clicked a finger.

A file cabinet suddenly appeared in the dark room.

A tall metal filing cabinet stood behind the sofa.

With a body leaning back and his head tilting with it, the doctor turned his face completely upside down, his neck nearly folding in two as his deep blue eyes scanned the neatly arranged binders on the shelf.

At the end of the cabinet sat a box of discs.

The doctor’s deep blue eyes reflected the shape of the discs.

He raised a hand; his arm bent and then stretched impossibly long, seizing the disc box from the bottom shelf.

When the doctor withdrew his hand and sat upright again, the dark room had already changed.

The little television was now a newer model, its screen a blinding blue, and it was connected to a DVD player, a fairly advanced triple-disc changer.

The doctor crouched in front of the TV cabinet and fed the discs into the machine one by one.

When he had finished, he returned to the sofa.

The ten fingernails gave a rather eager cheer.

The doctor relaxed and watched the blue screen switch to the disc’s opening animation.

The words “Monster Clinic,” in rather dated decorative lettering, sprang from the screen. A soundtrack with a hint of static went “thump, thump, thump,” and the title letters spun and faded on the screen.

A new image appeared.

The resolution was low, the colors soft, and like the opening, it was steeped in an air of another age. In the frame was a photograph in a picture frame. The same gentle sunset light fell across it, illuminating the face of the elderly man leaning on a cane in the black-and-white photo.

A young hand reached in from outside the frame and picked up the picture.

The camera shifted, and the young man’s face came into the doctor’s deep blue eyes.

It was Fang Xi.

Fang Xi’s expression was complicated; joy, shock, distress... all sorts of emotions flashed across his face. In the end, he smiled and set the frame down.

The camera changed position.

In the shot, the old man in the photograph and Fang Xi’s reflection on the surface of the frame were pressed together, one old and one young, one black-and-white and one in color, yet astonishingly alike.

The background music faded in, replacing the natural sounds of insects and birds.

The film continued.

The ten fingernails responded to its scenes with one sound after another.

The doctor’s face was covered by the shifting light and shadow from the television, while only those eyes continued to emit their deep blue glow.

...

It was late at night.

Cheng Yao slept deeply, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm with his long, even breaths.

Bai Xiao, lying beside him in the bed, suddenly opened her eyes. Her throat moved as she turned her head and quietly stared at Cheng Yao’s profile.

Bai Xiao slowly propped herself up, tilting her head to look down at the still-sleeping Cheng Yao. She raised a hand and traced his face in the air. The ring on her finger was dull in the dark, but the finger it bound seemed to glow more and more brightly.

The dark, greenish veins were like lit fuses. Strange points of light crawled over Bai Xiao’s skin, leaving scorched marks behind. Those marks seemed to still hold embers, flaring and fading from time to time.

Bai Xiao’s hand froze in the air.

She looked up at the window beside them.

The curtains were closed tight, with excellent blackout coverage.

Bai Xiao’s eyes rolled, and then she looked up at the ceiling.

Suddenly, those two eyeballs, like rolling glass beads, spun rapidly and erratically in their sockets.

Bai Xiao sprang out of the blankets and landed lightly on the floor, then suddenly reached out and seized the curtains.

Whoosh.

She yanked them open in one motion.

Her other hand shot out and clenched into a fist in midair.

In the end, the fist pressed lightly against the glass.

“Shengsheng?” Cheng Yao woke with a start.

Bai Xiao turned around, her clenched hand dropping naturally as the other hand swiftly pulled the curtains shut again.

The room fell back into darkness.

“Did I wake you?”

“What are you doing?”

“There was a bug just now. I was going to open the window and chase it out. I don’t know where it flew off to.” Bai Xiao answered calmly.

“Spray some repellent in the house tomorrow. Let’s buy a mosquito coil too.”

“Okay.”

Bai Xiao returned to bed.

Her clenched fist had already loosened, and her hands were back to normal.

Cheng Yao reached out and naturally drew Bai Xiao into his arms.

Bai Xiao naturally leaned against him too and closed her eyes.

Steady breathing filled the room again.

The night returned to its quiet peace.

...

Cheng Yao declined Jiang Yifan’s invitation and muted the high school group chat, but before two quiet days had passed, he received a call from Tong Bin.

Tong Bin had no particular reason for calling, just a normal chat. There was no need for Cheng Yao to lie and say he was still traveling. After hearing the truth, Tong Bin immediately and enthusiastically invited him out for drinks.

Cheng Yao was just about to refuse.

“You should go,” Bai Xiao said from the side.

Tong Bin heard the voice and was hugely surprised. “Who was that? Your wife?”

“Ah, yes.” Cheng Yao was surprised too, answering Tong Bin while looking at Bai Xiao.

Bai Xiao smiled. “It’s rare for you to have such a friend. Go have some fun.”

“Your wife’s agreed, so let’s meet up tonight. How about that barbecue place from last time?” Tong Bin suggested.

“Sure.” Cheng Yao agreed absentmindedly and hung up.

By then Bai Xiao had already turned back to the television, watching a variety show with great interest.

“I thought...” Cheng Yao said, holding his phone.

Bai Xiao turned in confusion. “What?”

“No, nothing.” Cheng Yao shook his head.

He had thought Bai Xiao disliked him being in contact with other people.

But on second thought, Bai Xiao’s indifference when he met old relatives and friends, and her habit of refusing outright, were not because she did not want to, but because they could not, were they?

“Have you ever thought about meeting new people?” Cheng Yao asked cautiously.

Bai Xiao looked astonished. “Are you trying to get me to cheat?”

“What do you mean, cheat?” Cheng Yao said with a laugh and a cry at once.

Bai Xiao laughed. “I don’t mind. If I make some new friends, that’s fine too. The most important thing is that the two of us stay together.” She hooked her arm through Cheng Yao’s and suddenly became interested. “I saw that Hu Yun has a new movie out yesterday. Let’s go see it sometime. I bought a lot of his postcards and posters before—where did you put them for me?”

“I’ve sorted them out. They’re all in a box.”

“I look at the merch they make for idols now and it’s so well done. They have everything.”

“Hu Yun did release some of those things too. A few years ago he even held a concert for his anniversary in the business and made an autobiographical film.”

“Really? I want to see it. Is it in the film library?” Bai Xiao grew excited, grabbed the remote, and switched off the variety show that was playing.

“I forgot the title.”

“You didn’t even remember it for me?” Bai Xiao complained, or perhaps was simply being coquettish.

“You don’t like him anymore, do you?” Cheng Yao asked in confusion.

“That’s different. I did follow him for years, after all... Ah, found it!” Bai Xiao stared at the screen. “He only made so few films all these years?” she counted in surprise. “Or is this TV’s library just small?”

“Probably just that many. He wasn’t popular for very long.”

Bai Xiao, in full fan spirit, first ordered Hu Yun’s autobiographical film, and then objected to Cheng Yao’s words. “But he was hugely popular then. He made so many dramas, got into movies too, and even worked with award-winning actors and top directors. That film, Blood Sin Hunter, did pretty well at the box office too.”

For a moment, Cheng Yao felt dazed.

Back then Bai Xiao had dragged him to the cinema to watch Blood Sin Hunter, and he had contributed two tickets to its box office.

It had to be said, the movie was decent, but Hu Yun was just a decorative face in it, with or without him, it made little difference. With her fan’s filter, Bai Xiao’s evaluation was completely different from Cheng Yao’s. He still remembered her praising Hu Yun’s handsomeness in a torrent of words after the screening, and complaining that they had no common language in that regard—something he did not realize until two weeks later. Bai Xiao turned down his next two invitations to go out, and, together with Huihui, Yuyu, and the other fan friends, watched the movie three more times.

Later, after the two of them graduated, moved in together, and married, Bai Xiao “jumped ship” and her interest in Hu Yun cooled, along with the fan filter. What had once been Bai Xiao dragging Cheng Yao to the movies was now reversed. Because Cheng Yao liked crime films, he rewatched Blood Sin Hunter several times. Bai Xiao, like Hu Yun in the film, simply accompanied him, present but of no real consequence.

Back then, Cheng Yao had never imagined that this sort of “of no real consequence” would one day become unimaginably precious.

“Wow! He’s so handsome!” Bai Xiao’s exclamation interrupted Cheng Yao’s memories and gave him the strange feeling of having returned to the past.

Cheng Yao could not help laughing as he looked at the television screen.

On the TV, the teenage Hu Yun stood on stage, radiant and brilliant, a side of him Cheng Yao, who was not a fan, had never known.