The Scorching Sun - 2

Mrs. Lu’s face darkened. "This family’s finances aren’t as comfortable as you think," she said stiffly. "Your little brother is about to start his final year of middle school. His grades are outstanding. Do you understand?"

Fang Zhuo met her gaze without flinching. “According to the law,” she stated, “I’m still a minor. You’re legally obligated to support me.”

Mrs. Lu barked out a laugh. "Compulsory education is nine years! What do you even know about the law?"

"I really don’t know much. But I imagine adults should." Fang Zhuo said. "You haven’t fulfilled your obligation toward me. Even calculated at the barest minimum standard, all those years of unpaid child support should be more than enough to cover my tuition."

The middle-aged man, who had kept his head down and stayed silent this whole time, finally lost his composure. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded, displeasure thick in his voice.

Fang Zhuo half-lowered her eyes, fixing her gaze at the grain of the wooden dining table. "I know where you both work. I’ve met your colleagues."

Colors drained from Fang Yiming’s face. Understanding the implication, anger began rising beneath his rigid features.

A pair of chopsticks slammed onto the table, one even skittered away. Furious, Mrs. Lu shot to her feet and directed a venomous glare at Fang Zhuo, then snatched the chopsticks from Fang Yiming’s hand. "You still have the mind to eat?!" she snarled at him. "Look at this daughter of yours. Listen to the filth coming out of her mouth. Just a student and she’s already threatening us! Fang Yiming, when I married you, you swore I wouldn’t have to deal with her!"

She was hysterical, but no one responded. Fang Zhuo turned her head, looking up at her stepmother from the side. “You think I’m threatening you,” she countered, “because deep down, you know what you’ve done can’t bear the light of day.”

The words choked Mrs. Lu mid-breath. She opened her mouth to hurl more abuse, but Fang Yiming raised a hand to stop her.

Whether it was a rare stab of guilt, or a wariness of the depths in Fang Zhuo’s mind, Fang Yiming’s chest heaved several times. In the end, he swallowed his rage and said through a frown, “Give her the tuition money.”

Across the table, the younger Fang slammed his bowl down, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned back. Dinner was over for him.

"And living expenses," Fang Zhuo added.

“You want to settle things once and for all with us, is that it?” Ms. Lu asked in disbelief, jabbing a finger at the front door. “Fine, I can give you money. Now get out, and never come back!”

Fang Zhuo got up, retrieved her backpack from the sofa, and walked out, not once so much as looking back. 

Mrs. Lu grabbed her shoulder bag from where it hung nearby, stormed out the security door in her slippers, and pulled a wad of freshly withdrawn bills from inside. Without even counting, she hurled them angrily at Fang Zhuo.

“You turn eighteen next month, right? I’ll count it as half a month left. Here, take it all! Keep the change!”

Red and white banknotes scattered everywhere, fluttering across the landing. A few caught the draft from the stairwell window and drifted down the steps below.

The motion-sensor light blinked on overhead, bleaching Fang Zhuo’s face an even colder white.

A gust of cold night wind swept through the stairwell, lashing against their exposed skin. Only then did they realize the sky outside had gone pitch black.

Fang Zhuo’s lips pressed into a thin line. She hitched the strap of her backpack higher on her shoulder, her voice took on a sharp, cutting edge, each word deliberate. "Pick them up."

Silence fell over the landing.

“If I can’t go to school, fine. I’ll just get a sign. Every day, I’ll sit outside your son’s classroom and tell his classmates and teachers exactly how family neglect kept me from getting aid, forcing me out of school. When he goes to high school, I’ll follow him there. When he goes to college, I’ll follow him there too. Cold days, hot days, I don’t care. Maybe I will come to your workplace instead.”

Her tone was clearly soft and unhurried, yet it struck a chill of fear into their hearts.

The dim light seemed to be swallowed by the black wells of Fang Zhuo’s pupils. Her long lashes veiled her shadowed, fathomless eyes.

“Pick them up,” she repeated.

The muscles in Mrs. Lu’s face trembled. Fang Zhuo’s words, and the menace behind them, had rooted her to the spot. Regret stirred in her, but her pride would not allow her to stoop for this girl. Caught in that impossible bind, she watched as Fang Yiming stepped forward and began gathering the scattered bills from the floor, one by one.

Their son, clinging to the doorframe, called out hesitantly, "Dad." His father gave a stern wave, ordering him back inside.

Once all the money was collected, Fang Yiming looked up. From his position below, his eyes met Fang Zhuo’s directly.

It was a scrutinizing gaze, looking down from a height, devoid of any emotion. There was even something eerily cold in it.

Fang Yiming froze, averting his eyes away awkwardly. For the first time, he realized Fang Zhuo wasn’t the timid, pliant girl he had thought. The conciliatory words he’d been about to offer died in his throat.

Fang Zhuo was nothing like her mother. The thought drifted suddenly through his mind. Ye Yaoling had been so pure, so naive.

He held out the money. Fang Zhuo paused for a full two seconds before taking it.

As if to torment them on purpose, she counted the bills carefully in front of them, once, twice, then a third time. Not stopping until Ms. Lu’s patience had frayed to the breaking point.

Five thousand yuan, in total.

Slowly, as if some newfound awareness struck him, Fang Yiming fumbled another two hundred from his pocket and thrust it at her.

“Tuition, dorm fees, and other expenses come to 4,200." Fang Zhuo said, pulling her backpack around and carefully tucking the money into a middle compartment. She didn’t look at anyone. “And the buyout fee to settle the books, an even one thousand.”

Fang Yiming’s lips moved. He wanted to say no, that wasn’t it, but Fang Zhuo immediately followed with: “More than I thought I was worth.”

She glanced toward Mrs. Lu, noting the woman’s anxiety and unease, and smiled. Her lips curled with deliberate spite. “I’ll be back.”

Mrs. Lu yanked Fang Yiming violently back inside, slamming the door shut behind them.

The echo of the heavy bang had barely faded when a faint noise came from the floor above. Whoever it was tried to tread lightly, but in the silence of the stairwell, the quiet scuff still carried clearly.

On the other side of the door, Mrs. Lu’s composure shattered. Her hysterical shrieking tore through the wall. "Fang Yiming, how much do you even make in a month?! Get this straight: your son is in his final year of middle school. Do you know how expensive his tutoring is? His clothes, his meals, everything costs money! Are you planning to bleed your own son dry just to pay off that ungrateful wretch outside? Then you might as well forget about us!”

Whatever tiny attachment Fang Zhuo had once held for this family was gone. She turned and headed down the stairs.

All that violent turmoil, all that bitter fighting, ending just like that, so quietly. Like waves crashing against the sea, no matter how ferocious they were, they can only leave behind the briefest ripple.

Pushing open the building’s security door, a fine drizzle sprayed in, bringing to her the first cool breath of late summer. Fang Zhuo tucked the money into her pocket, her fingers clenched tight around it. But it felt as if all the warmth in her body was being leeched away by that thick stack of paper.

Perhaps the bond between them had never held any warmth to begin with.

Rain-damp strands of hair clung to her cheeks. Fang Zhuo walked along under the eaves with her head down. She hadn’t gone more than a few steps when a voice rang out from above.

"Hey!"

A window upstairs was pushed open. Fang Zhuo’s half-brother leaned out, holding an umbrella in his hand, motioning at it before tossing it down toward her.

Fang Zhuo bent to pick it up. "Take all your junk and don’t come back!" the boy called down.

No sooner had the words left his mouth, Fang Yiming yanked him back inside.

Fang Zhuo opened the umbrella and stood there for a moment, lost.

No phone, no GPS. The school dormitory was already locked for the night. She had no idea if the last bus had stopped running.

Tonight, the city showed its coldest, most unfamiliar face to the lost.

She wandered aimlessly down the street for a while, until she finally picked a 24-hour convenience store. She sat down on a bench outside, opened her schoolbag, and, using the light spilling from inside the shop, started flipping through a textbook.

Filtered through a pane of glass, the light was dim and weak. It wasn’t long before her eyes ached with strain. She simply packed her things, leaned back, and rested herself against the glass.

***

Spotting the familiar blue-and-white uniform crossing his line of sight, Yan Lie paused mid-bite with his burger and looked again to make sure. It really was Fang Zhuo.

What were the odds?

She looked exhausted. Sitting outside the convenience store, she hugged her backpack tightly against her chest, and soon drifted asleep.

Yan Lie hesitated but ultimately stayed where he was, figuring he'd wait and see when she would leave. However, after finishing his meal, playing through a round on his phone, and glancing up again, she was still there.

He walked over. His first instinct was to wake her, but he couldn’t be sure why she was outside at this hour. His raised hand hovered in the air, never falling. In the end, he just stood there, his tall frame blocking the harsh streetlight glare from her face.

Maybe it was the murky light, or maybe life had been too hard on her lately. From his angle, her complexion looked startlingly pale. Her lips were dry and chapped. A narrow strip of her exposed wrist revealed just how thin she was.

Yan Lie couldn’t, for the life of him, pull up a clear impression of Fang Zhuo at school; their interactions had been too few. All he could recall was that she always seemed busy, always in a hurry. She kept to herself, as if nothing ever interested her.

Everyone had their odd quirks, and Yan Lie’s instincts told him not to intrude on her solitary.

He went inside the convenience store, grabbed two steamed buns off the counter, a cup of sweet congee, and two small cakes. After paying, he lowered his voice and said to the cashier. "Could you give these to the girl outside? Just tell her they’re surplus stock about to expire, so she can have them.”

The cashier followed his gaze and spotted the figure sitting outside. From the vague silhouette, she wore the same school uniform as the good-looking young man in front of her. She agreed readily.

Yan Lie grabbed a bottle of water for himself and walked out. He stopped in front of Fang Zhuo for two seconds, then turned and left.

Not long after his shadow retreated, Fang Zhuo opened her eyes.

She didn’t quite have the nerve to sleep out on the streets. Besides, just carrying that amount of cash in her bag made it impossible to rest easy.

The cashier emerged moments later carrying a plastic bag. Seeing Fang Zhuo awake, she’d meant to follow Yan Lie’s script, but meeting Fang Zhuo’s upturned gaze, the words felt strangely hot in her mouth and took a different turn. "Your classmate’s pretty worried about you. Are you hungry? Have something to eat."

Fang Zhuo lowered her gaze to the white plastic bag in the cashier’s hand.

The cashier thought the girl seemed far too mature for her age. Or maybe it wasn’t so much maturity, but a kind of weariness, as though life had already worn her raw.

Just when the cashier expected a refusal, Fang Zhuo reached out politely, "Thank you."

"Don’t mention it."

The cashier tucked her hands into her pockets and turned to go back in. She’d gotten one foot through the door when she paused and stepped back. "It’s been raining the last couple of days. Lots of bugs out here. Why don’t you find someplace indoors to sit?”

Seeing the near-literal “no money” written all over Fang Zhuo’s face, she gave a rueful smile and pointed vaguely in a direction. “There’s a KFC on that street up ahead. It’s open all night. The staff there are pretty nice. You’re a student, they won’t make things hard for you. There’s a row of booth seats in the corner that’s decent for sleeping, if you’re lucky enough to snag one. If not, there’s a hospital nearby. Just keep an eye on your belongings."

Fang Zhuo listened, nodded, and after a brief hesitation, rose to her feet and slung her bag over her shoulder.

The steamed buns still held a trace of warmth, the heat transferring to her palm as her fingers tightened around them.

She watched the traffic as she walked. At the red light ahead, she stopped and finally lowered her head to take a bite.

Warmth flooded her mouth along with the savory, juicy filling, heating her ice-cold insides. It was only then she felt the full, delayed force of her own hunger.

She ate with complete focus, standing there as the red light turned green, then red once more.

A fine mist of rain drifted through the air. The night was cold, the wind restless.

This was her first meal of the day.

A brilliant, unbroken stream of neon lights stretched down the road, vanishing into unfathomable depths of the night.

Fang Zhuo gazed absently at where the sky met the darkness. Her future, she thought, was like that river of light, maybe not perfectly straight or bright, but it was there, stretching out before her, unavoidable. 

---

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