The Scorching Sun - 8

 Fang Zhuo hadn't eaten dinner yet. Without much appetite, she grabbed a random bread roll from the school store and went back to the classroom.

The students who'd been chatting and messing around a moment ago all quieted down when they saw her.

Shen Musi turned around. "You okay?"

Fang Zhuo shook her head.

Shen Musi hesitated for a long moment. In his hand was a can of eight-treasure congee. Carefully, he set it at the corner of Fang Zhuo’s desk.

When she kept her head lowered over her homework without reacting, he lightly nudged the can forward with his fingertip, little by little, until it finally slid into her line of sight. 

But the moment her eyes flicked toward it, he still chickened out. "F-for you... it's about to expire," he said under his breath.

The excuse was so familiar.

Expressionless, Fang Zhuo turned toward her deskmate.

Yan Lie wore the innocent face of a bystander and shrugged. "No need to consult me. The child is grown. I've authorized him to manage his own property as he sees fit."

"Shameless!" Shen Musi erupted. "You just love lording it over me!"

Fang Zhuo pushed the can back toward him. "Thanks," she said, "but I didn't faint because I can't afford food."

Shen Musi didn't dare argue. He just gave a meek "Oh."

Fang Zhuo glanced at the problem in front of her, then looked up again and added, "My diet might not be the most regular. But I think the bigger issue is lack of sleep and mental exhaustion." One small head, holding too many thoughts.

"I'm fine now. Thank you for your concern."

Shen Musi's expression was a vivid illustration of "whatever you say." After listening to Fang Zhuo's string of unconvincing explanations, he instinctively looked to Yan Lie for his reaction. The latter gave a faint smile. Shen Musi got the message and obediently took the congee back. 

Not long after, a private message pinged onto Yan Lie's social account.

Mousse Cake: Why wouldn't she take it? She's literally collapsing from hunger.

Lie Lie: Good kids don't like taking things for free. You give her something, she has to figure out a way to repay you. Don't do it again.

Mousse Cake: Why though? It's not like this is food handed out of pity or something?

Lie Lie: Depends on who's giving it.

Mousse Cake: ??

Mousse Cake: I don't like the sound of that. Is there anyone in this class with more charm than me?

Mousse Cake: Say something! Why aren't you answering?!

Yan Lie laughed. He put his phone away and nudged the leg of Shen Musi's chair with his foot. A clear signal: Study. Stop messing around.

Later, the homeroom teacher called Fang Zhuo to her office to ask about her health.

The infirmary's equipment was basic and hadn't turned up anything. Based on her classmates' reports, the teacher chalked it up to stress and poor nutrition. She gave Fang Zhuo a few words of advice and offered some encouragement. Fang Zhuo was calm and agreeable throughout, and was soon sent back to class.

· · ·

Registration for the sports meet had begun over the last couple of days. The sports rep and a few other class officers were going around trying to rally participation.

The image of Fang Zhuo collapsing during cleaning duty had left too deep an impression on them. Coupled with her thin frame, which practically broadcast malnutrition, no one dared bother her. They figured they'd just assign her to the cheerleading squad when the time came, let her use it as a chance to rest up.

Fang Zhuo's own enthusiasm wasn't high, either. She'd never been one for these kinds of collective activities.

At noon, she was on her way back from the cafeteria, looking for a quiet spot to memorize vocabulary, when the homeroom teacher stopped her.

The teacher waved her over from the doorway. "Fang Zhuo, been looking everywhere for you. The guardhouse says a family member's here to see you. Go on, hurry."

Fang Zhuo's first thought was that her homeroom teacher had called her parents and that Fang Yiming had shown up. But she dismissed the idea almost as quickly as it formed.

Fang Yiming wouldn't waste his time on something like this. He probably wouldn't come. And even if he did, he'd marched straight into the school and leave the instant he couldn't find her.

But she had no other family.

Fang Zhuo went to the back of the classroom, poured herself a cup of water, and drank it slowly before finally getting up to go.

The last couple of days had been sunny. The dropping temperature had bounced right back up, as if early autumn had warped back into the high of summer.

Fang Zhuo walked unhurriedly to the guardhouse and peered in through the window. No one was there aside from the security officer.

She explained her purpose to the uncle on duty, who then pulled a red plastic bag out from under his desk and exclaimed, "Oh, student, you're finally here! The food's about to go cold!”

Fang Zhuo froze. She untied the loose knot on the plastic bag. Inside were two lunchboxes.

Bewildered, her first thought was that someone had ordered takeout for her. She was just taking the containers out when the guard added, regretfully, "That person waited here ages. He just left. Here, he left his number."

He handed over an irregularly torn piece of white paper. In the center, in black pen, was written: "Zhuo Zhuo, happy birthday."

Below that was a phone number.

Fang Zhuo had seen this handwriting recently. She recognized it. And because she recognized it, it threw her profoundly off balance.

Her head buzzed. Her thoughts ground to a halt. Images of Ye Yuncheng's arduous, hobbling steps flashed through her mind, growing sharper with each replay. "Who brought this?" she asked, her voice dazed. "He... is his leg... does he have trouble walking?"

The uncle launched into a detailed description. "Yes! I told him he could go in and find you, but he was afraid your classmates might see him, didn't want to make you look bad. So he just sat by the roadside and waited. And this heat, my goodness. He waited half an hour and you still didn't come, so he left."

Suddenly the lunchboxes in Fang Zhuo's hands felt impossibly heavy. The weight pressed down on her chest until she could barely breathe. She clutched the paper, crumpling it deep into her palm. "Can I go look outside?"

"He's really gone already..." the guard began, but seeing her expression, he couldn't quite bear it and relented. "All right. You can look around the school gate. Don't go far."

Fang Zhuo stepped out through the gate. She scanned both sides of the empty street. No trace of where he'd waited.

Sunlight poured down from ahead, casting a shadow behind the high wall. There was nothing outside the school gate that offered any shade. She could almost picture it vividly: Ye Yuncheng waiting by the roadside, soaked in sweat under the blazing sun, only to leave disappointed in the end.

A tangle of emotions surged through her. Fang Zhuo walked back in, thanked the guard in a daze, and carried the lunchboxes back to the classroom.

The lunch break was almost upon them. Yan Lie had finished the test paper handed out that morning and was sprawled across his desk, resting. Sensing Fang Zhuo return, he cracked an eye open to observe her. And at her troubled, preoccupied look, he lifted his head.

He watched her quietly for a moment, then pointed at the pink-and-white lunchboxes on her desk. "Where'd you order takeout from? You haven't eaten lunch yet?"

As if jolted back to the present, Fang Zhuo lifted her hand and pulled out the piece of paper, nearly damp with sweat now. She turned to him. "Can I borrow your phone?"

"Sure." Yan Lie fished it out without hesitation and handed it over. "Password's our mother's birthday."

Fang Zhuo's brow twitched. In a bizarre leap, she synced with his train of thought and tentatively typed in "1001."

It unlocked.

Good lord.

What a fine young patriot.

She took the phone to the utility closet near the restroom. After confirming no teachers were nearby, she dialed the number on the paper.

The dial tone buzzed several times. No one picked up.

Fang Zhuo guessed Ye Yuncheng was on his way home now. Taking public transit must've not been easy for him. The transfer in the middle required a twenty-minute walk, and the distance from the village entrance back to his house wasn't short either. She wondered if he'd run into any trouble.

Scattered worries tangled chaotically through her mind. The call disconnected on its own, and almost mechanically, Fang Zhuo dialed again.

This time, the other end picked up fast.

"Hello."

The clear, gentle voice rang out. Fang Zhuo felt as if a current had passed through her whole body. The tangled, knotted mess of thoughts that had been plaguing her was instantly wiped blank. And along with them, everything she'd meant to say.

The person on the other end waited patiently, saying nothing. In the background, Fang Zhuo could hear the clamor of bus-stop advertisements, confirming he was on a bus.

Ye Yuncheng guessed her identity from the long silence. He cupped his hand over the phone. "Fang Zhuo?"

"It's me." Her voice came out stiff. "I only just got back to the classroom. When I went to the school gate, you'd already left."

Even through the phone, Ye Yuncheng's voice was very gentle. Low, unhurried. Like a timely summer breeze. "Oh, I see. I was thinking maybe it wasn't convenient for you. Senior year, so busy."

"It's not inconvenient," Fang Zhuo said. "The noon break is free time."

"Ah," Ye Yuncheng said.

Fang Zhuo drew a breath.

Ye Yuncheng spoke again, this time with a deliberate brightness in his voice. "Happy birthday. You grew up so fast, and I barely got to see any of it."

Fang Zhuo paused. "...Thank you."

She honestly couldn’t remember who had last said those words to her. Maybe no one ever had. So when she heard that unfamiliar blessing, she blanked for a moment, failing to notice anything off about it.

She'd once looked forward desperately to this moment of becoming an adult, believing that adults were naturally equipped with strength and courage, that adulthood would let her reclaim all the defiance and willfulness she'd swallowed down.

 

The older she got, the better she understood. The so-called armor of adulthood was cobbled together from scars and hard lessons. If you wanted something, you had to get it yourself. Slowly, she'd forgotten that childish expectation.

Now that she'd actually crossed the threshold into adulthood, she had to admit it stirred something in her. But the feeling was like a single drop of water falling on a still lake. It didn't cause any great upheaval in her world.

It didn't even compare to a single sentence from Ye Yuncheng.

"Actually, your birthday isn't until next week," Ye Yuncheng went on. "But isn't next week Mid-Autumn Festival? I figured you'd be going home. I won't have a chance to bring you a cake then, so I just came by a bit early."

"I'm not going back," Fang Zhuo said.

"Ah...?" Ye Yuncheng's voice took on a cautious edge. "So... do you get a break for the holiday?"

Suddenly infected by the breath of anticipation he was holding, Fang Zhuo found herself feeling a little tense too. "Three or four days off, I think?"

"Are you staying at school? Everyone goes home during the break. It'd be so lonely. Why don't you leave too?" The words poured out of him in a rush. "Why don't you come to your uncle's place?"

After he said it, he let out a breath like a weight had lifted. The joy in his voice turned genuine, unreserved. He invited her warmly, "Come to your uncle's place. The house is a little old, but it's big. Lots of empty rooms."

"Won't I be a bother?" Fang Zhuo said.

"No bother, no bother, come!" Ye Yuncheng laughed. "I tidied up a room yesterday. And behind the house, there's this huge yard, you know? I've cleared out half of it. It's all empty now. I have no idea what to do with it. Any suggestions?"

"I'll think about it," Fang Zhuo said.

"You think it over. Take your time. Good, good." Ye Yuncheng was tripping over his own words. "Oh, right! There's seafood in the lunchboxes. You need to eat it soon. It can't sit out too long. And the fruit, too."

Fang Zhuo replied calmly, "Okay."

Ye Yuncheng's dam of words had just breached. He had so many little reminders and instructions he wanted to say, but before he could sort them out, he heard an alarm bell ringing in the background. It calmed him down at once.

He asked, "Is that the bell? You have to get to class now, right?"

"Lunch break's starting. The class officers will take attendance," Fang Zhuo said.

Ye Yuncheng said immediately, "Then you should go back."

"Okay."

Just as she was about to hang up, Ye Yuncheng couldn't help one last reminder: "Remember to come back during the break."

Back in the classroom, Fang Zhuo returned the phone to Yan Lie. Feeling very warm all of a sudden, she pulled out a tissue and wiped the sweat from her face.

Yan Lie studied her face for a moment, then said out of nowhere, "You're blooming.” 

Fang Zhuo didn't get it. "Huh?"

"Nothing." Yan Lie smiled. "Just rare to see you this happy."

Fang Zhuo didn't think she'd show that much happiness. She lifted a hand to touch the corner of her mouth. No smile. She had no idea what Yan Lie was seeing.

Yan Lie tapped at his phone. "Who was it…on the phone?"

"My uncle," Fang Zhuo said.

"So it's Uncle!"

Yan Lie saved the number to his contacts. Out of the corner of her eye, Fang Zhuo saw the name he'd typed in for the entry: simply, "Uncle." She blinked, confused. Isn't that my uncle?

---

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