The Scorching Sun - 11

 Fang Zhuo felt like a frog in a pot of slowly warming water. Her limbs, her brain, all of it had gone numb.

When Ye Yuncheng saw the light and realized it was her, a flicker of excitement crossed his face, but he kept his voice measured. "I thought you weren't coming. It got dark and you still weren't here, so I headed back first. What kept you so late?"

Fang Zhuo didn't respond. She stood up, hitched her backpack straps, and angled the flashlight beam at the ground.

Ye Yuncheng said, "There's only one streetlight for a long stretch out here, and it's been broken for months. Can you see at all? Weren't you scared walking alone?"

Fang Zhuo swallowed. After a pause, she said, "No."

Ye Yuncheng stepped closer and took the flashlight from her. His fingers accidentally brushed hers, the touch was ice-cold. She must've been so scared and was just putting on a brave front, but he didn't call her on it.

He hung the flashlight on the handle of the cart and softened his voice. "Your classmate called, asked if you'd made it home yet. That's how I knew you were on your way. It's my fault. I should have confirmed the time with you. That was careless of me."

Fang Zhuo's eyes shifted, and feeling began to return to her body. "Ah... Yan Lie?"

Hearing the peeping of chicks, Ye Yuncheng crouched down for a better look and smiled. "You bought chickens? To raise in the yard?"

Fang Zhuo nodded. "Mm."

"That's good. They'll lay eggs." Ye Yuncheng lifted the box with one hand, "Here, give me your backpack. I'll put it on the cart."

Fang Zhuo slid the backpack off. The second the weight left her shoulders, her whole body went light.

Ye Yuncheng tested the bag's heft and found it packed with books, at least ten pounds' worth. Behind her sat a twenty-pound sack of rice.

He squeezed Fang Zhuo's arm, unable to fathom how those thin limbs had managed to carry everything this far. A pang of distress hit him. "Next time you come, tell me the time. I'll wait for you at the village entrance."

Fang Zhuo said, "It's fine."

"Don't stand on ceremony with me. It's not a long walk." Ye Yuncheng paused, gathering his words. "I want to come get you. We're family."

After a long moment, Fang Zhuo answered, low and quiet: "Okay."

With Ye Yuncheng leading the way, the road ahead didn't seem so endless. 

Fang Zhuo trailed behind with the cart, lost in thought, and before she knew it, they were at the house.

Ye Yuncheng turned on the main light, illuminating the interior.

The place was nothing like the cluttered, dilapidated mess she remembered. Every surface had been thoroughly cleaned. The curtains had been replaced with new pale blue. The table and chairs were rearranged. Under the high-wattage bulb, everything looked bright, tidy, and airy.

The damp, mildew smell was gone too, replaced by a faint sweetness, something like osmanthus. Fang Zhuo had a fleeting suspicion that Ye Yuncheng had sprayed perfume.

The realization jolted her. She stole a couple of glances at the man and noticed for the first time that he was wearing a crisp new shirt and had trimmed his overgrown hair, nothing like the unkempt figure from last time. His complexion was healthier, too.

He practically looked like a different person.

With the light shining on their faces now, Ye Yuncheng sensed her sidelong scrutiny. A little self-conscious, he leaned on his cane, walked over to the table, and lifted the mesh cover. "Have you eaten? You must be hungry. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just threw a few dishes together. Go wash your hands. I'll heat everything up."

The food on the table had long gone cold, but they were plated carefully, untouched. It was obvious he had been waiting for her and hadn't eaten yet. Seeing her just standing there, he nudged her gently. "Go on. The bathroom's over there."

Fang Zhuo didn't own a watch, she couldn't know the exact time, but she estimated it was past eight.

Every detail carried a kind of care she had no experience with, and each one struck her like a small wave lapping repeatedly inside her chest. A rough, uneven shore, once washed over by that water, gradually smoothed out, its creases and furrows erased.

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Half a meter away, her reflection stared back, lost and bewildered. Her movements and thoughts had all gone sluggish. It took a hard blink before she could connect the person in the mirror to herself.

She bent over the sink and splashed her face, holding her breath, letting the cold water carry the heat from her skin.

Ye Yuncheng's care was different from Fang Yiming's. It was attentive, gentle, sincere.

He was offering so much, desperate to pour it all out for her to see. But Fang Zhuo's bottle could only hold two ounces. Anything beyond that was territory she'd never entered. She was afraid of letting it spill, afraid of owing someone else's care, of failing his kindness.

Pressure began to build in her lungs. She shut off the water, lifted her head, and gulped for air, staring at the person in the mirror again.

Realizing she'd left her towel outside, she pulled a tissue from the dispenser, wiped the water away, then smoothed the damp hair at her temples and tucked it behind her ears.

By the time she slowly made her way out of the bathroom, steam was already rising from the dishes.

Ye Yuncheng had set out the bowls and chopsticks. He was leaning against the wall, ladling soup.

"Tofu and carp soup. Good for the brain. Look at you, you're too thin." His hands trembled a little, so he kept his eyes fixed on the task. "Even if you don't like it, drink a little. You're just too thin."

Fang Zhuo took the small bowl and set it on the table. She moved to help him, but he had already stepped back on his cane and pulled out a chair.

Their mouths seemed sealed shut. Any words that rose to their throats rolled back down to single syllables: "Sit." "Eat." "Here."

It was a lavish meal. Fish, meat, vegetables, and a small cake in the center.

Probably made without a proper mold, the cake was oddly shaped. The cream spread on in a messy layer, but you could see the care someone had put into it.

Fang Zhuo wanted to say he shouldn't have spent so much money, but seeing Ye Yuncheng's eager, hopeful expression, she thought better of it. All she asked was, "Did you make the cake yourself?"

"Yes. Steamed though, not baked." Ye Yuncheng's mouth tugged into a shy, embarrassed smile. "It's not much to look at, but it tastes alright. I've made some for the school before. They said it was decent."

Fang Zhuo's eyes drifted toward the stack of books neatly arranged in the corner. "Do you like to read?"

"I do. Not like I have much else to do. But it's all just random stuff. Whatever people send me, I read." He added, "Some of it's not very good."

Fang Zhuo took a sip of soup, "This is really good."

"Glad to hear it."

Ye Yuncheng held his bowl and watched her, smiling with open, radiant warmth.

His gaze was calm, his eyes holding a faraway look. The light brown of his irises slowly gathered a glimmer of brightness.

Fang Zhuo looked away and buried herself in her food.

She was genuinely hungry. And with both of them struggling to find things to talk about, eating was her only escape from the awkwardness. She lost track of herself and ended up overeating.

When the quiet meal was over, Fang Zhuo got up to clear the table. Ye Yuncheng tried to stop her, but she wouldn't be deterred, so he let her be.

By the time she finished washing the dishes and came back, Ye Yuncheng had made up the bed in the inner bedroom.

He was bent over, one hand braced on the headboard, smoothing the corners of the sheet in an awkward posture. He looked back at Fang Zhuo. "You can sleep in this room tonight. The blanket's new. I aired it out in the sun. The light switch is this string. Just pull it."

Fang Zhuo nodded and turned to look around.

The room was furnished with several old wooden pieces. A dark vanity table stood against the wall, along with some other small ornaments, all things a girl would like.

Ye Yuncheng lived alone, and he was a man. These didn't seem like his taste. Which meant this room...

Ye Yuncheng read her expression and guessed her thoughts. He forced a faint smile. "This was your mother's room. Her things have just been sitting here all this time."

Fang Zhuo's lashes trembled involuntarily. She looked at him, eyes wide.

But Ye Yuncheng showed no sign of elaborating. He changed the subject abruptly. "The water for the shower should be heated by now. Go wash up first. I'm in the room next door. Just call if you need anything."

He gave his instructions, grabbed his cane, and headed for the door. Just as he stepped out, the phone in his pocket rang. He checked it, then turned back and handed it to Fang Zhuo. "Do you want to let your classmate know you're okay? He was pretty worried about you."

Fang Zhuo took the phone. On the lit screen, she saw a message asking if she was okay.

It was a smartphone, but the glass over the screen was shattered, and the touch response wasn't great.

Fang Zhuo saved the unfamiliar number with a name, then sent a reply.

Fang Zhuo: I'm home.

The response came almost instantly.

Yan Lie: I'm home too.

Fang Zhuo thought for a moment and sent another.

Fang Zhuo: I ate dinner.

Yan Lie: I ate too.

It was her first time texting anyone. She racked her brain and managed to squeeze out one more.

Fang Zhuo: Oh. Goodnight then.

Yan Lie: ......

She'd heard a single text cost ten cents. Yan Lie had already cost her thirty, and these six dots weren't worth a reply.

Making friends, Fang Zhuo thought, was way too expensive.

Ye Yuncheng had been watching her expression the whole time. When she put the phone down, he asked, with some interest, "Is he your boyfriend?"

Fang Zhuo froze, startled. "What? No. He's my deskmate."

"Oh." Ye Yuncheng said, "You and your classmate are really close."

The comment struck her as slightly odd, but Fang Zhuo didn't examine it too deeply. She followed up with a compliment. "He's a nice guy. He walked me to the bus station today."

Ye Yuncheng had been about to leave, but he stopped. "He's not going home?"

Fang Zhuo said uncertainly, "There's no one at his place, I think?"

Ye Yuncheng asked, "He's spending the Mid-Autumn Festival alone too?"

"Yeah."

Ye Yuncheng paused. "Then why didn't you invite him over?"

Fang Zhuo frowned, her gaze drifted sideways. She thought hard for a moment, then drew a sharp breath, her expression one of dawning shock.

She had never invited a classmate to her home before. First, she never had any say in the house, and second, she never was on good enough terms with anyone for the question to even occur to her.

Now, thinking back over Yan Lie's behavior, all the hints and cues, a circuit finally clicked into place in her brain.

Had he wanted to spend the holiday with her?

Ye Yuncheng asked, "What's wrong?"

The lightbulb in Fang Zhuo's head went dark just as quickly as it had lit up.

Forget it.

There was no room, no spare blanket.

And Ye Yuncheng would have to set everything up again.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

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