The Scorching Sun - 38

 Holding the phone, Fang Zhuo inexplicably wandered out onto an empty balcony. She crouched in a corner, thought it over for a long while, then finally sent Yan Lie a single character.

Fang Zhuo: Ding.

Yan Lie was standing beneath a curtain of cold rain, chilled clear through. When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he didn't check it immediately. He kept his gaze lowered, watching the people hurrying through the rain below.

He assumed it was another promotional text.

But boredom eventually got the better of him. After a long while, he pulled out his phone for a glance.

To his surprise, it had come from Ye Yuncheng's number.

There wasn't even a question.

Just that single word.

Yet somehow, from dozens of miles away, it felt as though someone had pressed the pause button on his entire world.

Fang Zhuo definitely possessed some kind of remote control connected directly to his emotions.

Yan Lie smiled and quickly typed back.

Yan Lie: That's ten cents.

Fang Zhuo's face darkened.

She nearly gave up on the conversation altogether.

How could someone be so good at saying infuriating things?

Yan Lie tapped his fingers lightly against the phone. He knew that if he didn't send something meaningful soon, she'd probably disappear without another word.

Yan Lie: So what important question was worth spending ten cents to build up to?

A minute later.

Fang Zhuo: Uncle wants to know when you're taking your mattress back.

Yan Lie: No need. My parents don't live there anyway. Even if it disappeared, they wouldn't notice.

Fang Zhuo frowned at the screen, debating whether she should simply reply with an "Oh."

Before she could decide, another message popped up.

Yan Lie: Twenty cents now.

Fang Zhuo wanted to throw the phone straight at his face.

Why was he rushing her?

He was making it sound as though she was recklessly wasting money, and it was stressing her.

She typed painfully slowly. She wasn't familiar with phone keyboards and had to search for every Pinyin one letter at a time. Whenever she texted, she wore the same grim expression she had while solving difficult homework.

But waiting for Fang Zhuo's replies was one of Yan Lie's favorite things.

Every word she sent represented careful thought. 

When Fang Zhuo texted, she concentrated even harder than she did on studying.

Yan Lie turned away from the window, his back faced the rain.

One hand, reddened and stiff from the cold, pressed against his cheek while the other occasionally brushed the screen to keep it from dimming.

This time, her reply came much sooner than expected.

Fang Zhuo: You're unhappy

She hadn't even bothered adding a question mark.

Yan Lie: Why?

This time, the wait was much longer.

Fang Zhuo: ? How would I know why seeing your dad makes you unhappy? I don't like seeing Mr. Fang either, and you already know why. If you're willing to talk about it, I don't mind listening. I'll delete the messages afterward so nobody else can read them. You can trust my character.

 

Yan Lie's fingers hovered above the keyboard for a long time without moving.

What was he supposed to say?

His family was well-off.

His parents were still together.

Even though they were rarely home, they had never deprived him of anything materially. The arguments and unhappiness belonged to more than ten years ago. Even the adults had long since turned the page and moved on with their lives.

Compared to Fang Zhuo's past...

His gloom seemed embarrassingly petty.

He didn't want Fang Zhuo to think he was the kind of person who held grudges over every little thing.

Before he could decide what to write, Mother Yan pushed open the door and called his name, saying it was time to leave.

"What are you doing out here? You've been standing outside forever." She looked at him. "What time do your afternoon classes start?"

In the end, Yan Lie simply typed one final message.

Yan Lie: I'm heading back to school now.

Mother Yan sighed. "Why did you come out here just to play with your phone?"

A middle-aged man happened to walk out at the same moment. Hearing that, he laughed. "Don't tell me you've got yourself a girlfriend? A handsome kid like you must be popular at school."

Standing behind him, Yan Chengli seemed to remember something. His expression shifted before he smiled.

"What girlfriend? He's a senior in high school. Besides, he's so quiet. What girl would like someone as dull as him?"

Yan Lie slipped the phone back into his pocket, walked over to them, and smiled without offering any explanation.

***

Fang Zhuo helped Ye Yuncheng pack everything away.

After the rain stopped, she caught a bus back to school.

By the time she reached the classroom, Yan Lie was already there.

He still looked unhappy.

He absentmindedly spun a pen between his fingers, occasionally glancing back toward the classroom door.

On her way over, Fang Zhuo had noticed Father Yan talking with their homeroom teacher in the office.

Yan Lie was probably checking whether he'd left yet.

Setting down her bag, she asked, "Have you eaten?"

Yan Lie turned around. "Not enough."

See? Fang Zhuo thought.

Even knowing perfectly well he'd just gone out for dinner, “Have you eaten?” was still the most universally useful conversation starter.

"There were a few ingredients left over that didn't sell, so I made these and brought them back."

She pulled out two rice balls. After examining them carefully, she realized she couldn't tell which was which anymore.

So she simply held both out to him.

"One's savory soy sauce flavor, and one's spicy. Let's see how lucky you are."

Yan Lie casually grabbed one. "I've always been lucky."

***

Even sitting down, Yan Chengli's height and commanding presence carried an undeniable sense of authority.

Relaxing slightly, he adjusted his coat before introducing himself. "Hello, Teacher. My name is Yan Chengli."

The homeroom teacher hurriedly replied, "Hello, hello. My surname is Gao."

Yan Chengli nodded. "I'm sorry. My wife and I are always busy and rarely stay in A City. Yan Lie has probably caused you a lot of trouble."

Teacher Gao poured him a cup of hot tea and smiled politely.

"Not at all. Yan Lie is an exceptionally well-behaved student. He hardly gives us any trouble at all. In fact, he's helped us a great deal. With him around, even the boys in class are much easier to manage."

Yan Chengli accepted the cup with both hands before setting it aside on the desk.

"He's in his final year now. How are his grades? Is he doing all right?"

"Very well," Teacher Gao replied as she sat down across from him. "I'm not exaggerating when I say that as long as he maintains his current performance, he can apply to any university or major he wants. He's already planned out his future very clearly."

Yan Chengli nodded. "So... as long as he maintains it."

Teacher Gao began searching through a stack of documents for Yan Lie's report card, hoping to reassure him.

"Don't worry. Yan Lie knows his priorities. He's far more mature than most students his age. There's only half a year left. I don't think there will be any problems."

Yan Chengli shifted posture. Folding his hands together on his lap, he asked in a more serious tone, "His deskmate is a girl, right?"

Teacher Gao paused. She quietly withdrew the report card and sat back down. "Are you referring to Fang Zhuo? She's the hardest-working student in our class."

Yan Chengli considered his words carefully.

"I understand that A High wants as many students as possible to achieve excellent results. But as a parent, I'm selfish. I'd prefer my child to focus all of his attention on a single goal."

Teacher Gao answered calmly. "Mr. Yan, I think you may be worrying a little too much. They're seniors in high school. Most of them are already eighteen. They aren't children who know nothing anymore. They won't suddenly make poor decisions simply because they're sitting half a meter apart instead of one meter... or three."

"I'm only making a suggestion." Yan Chengli spoke slowly, sounding uncertain even to himself. "They're deskmates. They attend class together. They board at school together. That feels... a little too close."

He had seen the unmistakable happiness on Yan Lie's face when he walked out of the cafeteria.

He had also seen the disappointment in his eyes as he watched his classmate get out of the car.

As an admittedly imperfect father, there were times when Yan Lie felt like a stranger.

Yet at other times, he could understand his son's thoughts at a single glance.

Perhaps that was simply the strange power of blood.

***

Fang Zhuo told Yan Lie to split the rice ball open first to see which flavor he'd picked.

He stubbornly took a bite instead.

With fifty-fifty odds, he'd somehow managed to choose the only one he couldn't eat.

The spicy one.

His expression immediately soured.

So this is where my bad luck starts...

He reached forward and tugged the hood of the student sitting in front of him. "Cake. It's spicy. Here."

Shen Musi turned around, accepted the rice ball, and sighed dramatically. "Fine. Isn't being a dad just about finishing all the food your kids don't want?"

"Give it back, then," Yan Lie said. "I'll go give it to my eldest son, Youyou."

"No!" Shen Musi shouted immediately.

Fang Zhuo quietly placed the unopened rice ball on Yan Lie's desk. "You can have this one."

Yan Lie was about to refuse, saying he wasn't really that hungry anyway.

But Fang Zhuo beat him to it. "Isn't that what deskmates are for? Returning the good luck you happened to miss. Stop looking so down. Hurry up and eat."

Yan Lie swallowed every word he had been about to say.

Silently, he unwrapped the rice ball.

After finishing about half of it, he looked at Fang Zhuo again. "No... that's not what being deskmates is about."

Fang Zhuo stopped working on her problem set and shrugged. “Whoever it is, what's the difference?"

At that moment, Teacher Gao walked in carrying a stack of exam papers.

"Yan Lie, switch seats with Shen Musi."

Shen Musi and Fang Zhuo both looked up in surprise.

Yan Lie refused without hesitation. "No."

His tone was firm.

The homeroom teacher didn't force the issue. Pretending nothing had happened, she instructed everyone to hand out the papers.

This was simply the outcome of a struggle between parent and child. As the homeroom teacher, she held no real authority in the matter.

Yan Lie drew a heavy line across the page with his pen. From that moment on, the expression on his face never relaxed.

Fang Zhuo thought to herself:

Straight men really are impossible to comfort.

---

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