The Scorching Sun - 74
Yan Chengli stared at the words, “Closeness and dependence cannot be demanded,” and drifted into a daze.
As his thoughts wandered, some fleeting notion struck the stillness of his mind, shaking loose a scene he had almost forgotten.
He had asked someone the same question once before, only he hadn't been nearly so calm about it. At the time, he was at the lowest point of his career and his life, with no patience left to spare for the trivial frustrations of everyday life.
Frustrated to the point of exasperation, he had demanded of a still-young Yan Lie, his voice raised, “What the hell do you want?”
He couldn't remember what Yan Lie's expression had been then, or what he might have been feeling. No matter how hard he searched his memory, he couldn't give Yan Lie any more of a place in that scene. All he remembered was that the boy obediently fell silent, crouched down in the corner of the room, and played with his remote-control car.
Come to think of it, Yan Lie had never been much like other children. He wasn't particularly fond of toys.
Whether it was an elaborate transforming car or a set of expensive LEGO bricks, he rarely looked happy when he had one in his hands. It was more as though he were using them to kill time, going through the motions while giving them an excuse for brushing him off.
He would dismantle the LEGO before he had even managed to build anything complete, and the expensive remote-control cars they bought him were reduced to toys he simply pushed back and forth across the floor.
Sometimes, when the mood struck him, Yan Chengli would go over and try to teach him. But Yan Lie seemed almost incapable of learning, and as always, ended up destroying whatever he was supposed to be making.
Back then, Yan Chengli had often wondered whether the boy was simply disobedient or just not very bright.
His mother believed it was because Yan Lie had received a poor education in the countryside, and that children of the new generation couldn't be raised that way.
Neither of them had any experience with education or guidance of that sort. Under the pressure of everyday life, they instinctively chose the easiest approach.
They used that reasoning to convince themselves, and tried to convince the child as well.
Yan Chengli could almost see that child again, standing in the corner of the room, watching him from a distance with wary, timid eyes.
For no reason he could explain, a chill ran through him, as though he could hear a question Yan Lie had been unable to ask all those years ago.
Yan Chengli relaxed his stiffened back, then hunched over the desk again as his fingers moved across the keyboard.
Yan Chengli: So what does Yan Lie want?
Fang Zhuo: What do you mean?
Fang Zhuo: Oh. If you mean what Yan Lie wants from his current coldness and distance toward you, if you mean whether he's sulking because he wants something, I don't think that's it. Once you reach a certain age, there are things you simply stop needing. He may not want anything from you at all.
Fang Zhuo: Of course, that's just my guess. You can ask Yan Lie himself. He's a mature and sensible person. I'm sure he can calmly and objectively exchange his thoughts with you.
Fang Zhuo: Though I'd suggest doing some self-reflection before you go. If, after reflecting, you still think you did nothing wrong, then forget it.
Whenever Yan Chengli spoke with Fang Zhuo, he had the strange illusion that he was talking to someone his own age. It was hard to believe that this style of conversation came from a young woman who had only just started university.
Then again, the more he thought about it, the more natural it seemed.
Fang Zhuo had grown up in a very different environment from theirs. Reality was harsher and more transparent in her world. Human nature had been sharpened against a blade, stripped of every layer of false ornamentation and laid bare before her. All she had to do was open her eyes to see it clearly.
That was why she understood better what was worth holding on to and what had to be painfully let go.
When it came to family, she had come to understand far more than Yan Chengli ever had.
What Yan Chengli couldn't understand was why Yan Lie liked Fang Zhuo.
He had always assumed Yan Lie would prefer a more lively girl, someone who, at the very least, wasn't as dull as himself.
Was it because Fang Zhuo understood him? Yan Chengli wondered. Or because they shared the same sense of loneliness?
Fang Zhuo's words forced Yan Chengli to think about the period when Yan Lie had once needed them, wondering where exactly things had gone wrong, and what had happened.
He remembered that after Yan Lie had been brought home because he needed to attend school, their family had gone through a brief period of chaos.
They had tried to be patient with his various childish protests, but unfortunately, their patience hadn't lasted long before it failed.
After discussing it, the husband and wife decided that strict discipline was the only way to rid him of the spoiled temper he'd picked up in the countryside. They were both too busy, and they couldn't let Yan Lie continue having his way.
One holiday, the whole family had originally agreed to go on a trip. Yan Chengli couldn't even remember what had caused it anymore, but Yan Lie threw a fit, hid himself in the little room, and refused to open the door.
Yan Chengli had been furious at the time.
Looking back from where he stood now, he was startled to realize that when he was younger, he had always been far too impatient with Yan Lie. For one strange reason or another, he had been consumed by inexplicable resentment, lacking both the composure and consideration expected of an adult.
He and his wife had stood outside the door and tried to reason with him for a while. Yan Lie refused to listen, so they simply left him home alone, got in the car, and drove away.
It must have been sometime that evening when they finished their dinner and received a call from the police. They had to go to the police station to collect their son, who had run away from home.
In the cool room in the dead of night, Yan Chengli had raged at him, telling him that his grandmother was already dead and that he had nowhere else to go.
Yan Lie had spent half the day wandering outside without even eating, yet he simply sat there in the chair and looked at him.
The police officer beside them patiently tried to mediate, while the person at the center of it all remained as calm as though he were merely an onlooker.
What had Yan Chengli been thinking back then?
He had thought that the quieter the child became, the more defiant he seemed. He clearly had no idea what he'd done wrong.
The friend who had brought him to the station told him that every child had thought about running away from home at some point, and that it was perfectly normal. But he still had to make it clear to the child that such behavior could never be indulged. They wouldn't necessarily be lucky enough to find him every time.
Yan Chengli thought that made perfect sense. He took Yan Lie home, lectured him, and demanded that he learn to be sensible.
Yan Lie covered his ears and said he didn't want to listen. Yan Chengli slapped him.
In truth, it had all been made up of little things.
The kind of grievances that most people find difficult to bring up with their parents once they've grown up.
Otherwise, they'd be branded “immature” or accused of “holding a grudge.”
But those very real hurts, accumulating with nowhere to go, lingered all the longer, embedded in the heart like the sting of a needle.
He had been so terrible at being a parent that he hadn't even realized he'd done anything wrong.
Yan Chengli vaguely felt that it was around then that Yan Lie had stopped thinking of them as family.
And there had been so much more. His arrogance as a parent, his conceit, his coldness.
The things he'd ignored, or simply allowed to happen.
That was the family environment Yan Lie had grown up in.
Perhaps during those years when he later went to B City to build his career, Yan Lie had actually been happier living on his own.
Just as Fang Zhuo had said, did Yan Lie respect him?
He already respected him more than enough.
Did he understand him?
Probably.
So Yan Lie had become exactly what he wanted him to be: an excellent student, independent and self-reliant. But that was all.
Yan Chengli found it painfully bleak to realize that Yan Lie's current lukewarm attitude didn't even leave him the opportunity to say he was “sensible.”
All along, he had been the one who didn't know how to behave. He had failed to shoulder his responsibilities as a father, yet had borrowed that lofty position to order everyone around.
Yan Chengli: Do I still have a chance?
Fang Zhuo: I don't think you do.
Fang Zhuo: I don't hold grudges, but I can't make peace with who I was back then.
Yan Chengli pressed his knuckles against his forehead and fell into thought. After a moment, he opened his eyes and asked, bewildered.
Yan Chengli: Didn't you say he never told you anything?
Fang Zhuo: Sigh, he really didn't badmouth you. Mostly, he made fun of himself for being overly dramatic and asked me to comfort him.
Yan Chengli: I'm starting to wonder if he's still angry with me.
Fang Zhuo's fingers moved slowly over the keyboard. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her phone screen and paused her homework again for the night. Instinctively, she wanted to reply, “There's no need. You're making too much of it.” But before sending it, she decided the line sounded a little too sarcastic and made a small adjustment.
Fang Zhuo: If you don't provoke him, there's no reason for him to be.
She could tell Yan Chengli was grasping at straws in desperation. A few minutes later, he came to her for help again.
Apparently, he hadn't noticed that her emotional intelligence was hardly suited to such a sophisticated line of work.
Yan Chengli: How do you two normally talk?
This was unmistakably the prelude to a heart-to-heart. Fang Zhuo's head began to ache.
Fang Zhuo: Uncle, if we're going to keep talking, add me on QQ. Texting costs too much.
Yan Chengli: Okay.
Yan Chengli switched over to the social app to add her, then, with remarkable initiative, topped up a hundred yuan of phone credit for Fang Zhuo's number.
Fang Zhuo received the recharge notification... That changed the nature of things entirely.
She pushed her computer aside and gave her temporary boss her full attention.
Little Sun: So, what exactly is going on?
Yan Li: When he talks to me, it feels like he's getting a little angry.
Little Sun: Let me see your chat history.
Yan Li: Is that really appropriate?
Little Sun: [Oh.] If it isn't appropriate, then I don't know what else I can do.
Yan Chengli hesitated for a moment before giving in. He took two screenshots from the conversation and sent them to her.
Fang Zhuo analyzed them with impressive speed. No wonder she was Yan Lie's girlfriend.
Little Sun: ?
Little Sun: That would make anyone angry.
Little Sun: Why do you always talk in imperatives?
Little Sun: It feels like you've already made the decision for him and are simply telling Yan Lie to follow it. You never actually ask what he thinks.
Yan Li: I don't.
Little Sun: Go back and count how many question marks you used in that entire conversation.
Yan Chengli mulled that over. He had a feeling Fang Zhuo's attitude had changed a little since they moved to QQ.
She'd stopped calling him “you” respectfully. And she was talking a lot more.
He didn't have the energy to pay attention to that just then. He scrolled back through their conversation and discovered that she was right.
Yan Chengli panicked.
Yan Li: What do I do now?
Little Sun: Try adding a couple of emojis when you talk to him. Yan Lie always uses stickers when he chats. They make him look ridiculously cute.
Yan Li: What kind does he like? Can you show me?
Little Sun: [Husky Grinning Stupidly]
Little Sun: Use more question marks.
Little Sun: Don't suddenly start showing concern for him out of nowhere. The things you think he needs you to care about aren't really the things he wants you to care about.
Yan Li: Ah...
Yan Lie was lying on his bed reading when he suddenly received a text from Fang Zhuo.
Little Sun: If Uncle agrees to grant you one request, what would you ask for?
Little Sun: You can ask for several, too.
Little Sun: Don't overthink it. I'm just asking.
It was so blatantly transparent that Yan Lie immediately knew Yan Chengli had brought in outside help.
Something complicated and indescribable stirred in Yan Lie's heart.
They Call Me Lie: Fang Zhuo, something's not right. What are you up to? Did you come to gather intelligence?
They Call Me Lie: Are you investigating him or me? Whose side are you on? [Fierce]
Little Sun: [Husky Grinning Stupidly]
The words “typing...” remained on Yan Lie's side for quite a while before a message finally came through.
They Call Me Lie: Don't drink.
Fang Zhuo relayed his answer exactly as it was.
Yan Li: That's it?
Little Sun: I think that's important. He really doesn't like you drinking.
Little Sun: I don't know if you can actually quit.
Yan Li: I'll try.
Yan Lie stared at Fang Zhuo's message list. Knowing she was talking to Yan Chengli made him feel a little dejected.
The quiet evening had become strangely restless because of this.
He typed a few words but hadn't sent them yet when a message from Yan Chengli popped up.
Yan Li: Are you short on money lately? [Husky Grinning Stupidly]
Yan Lie: “...”
Well, they weren't family yet, but apparently they'd already started sharing stickers.
That question left him at a loss, too.
He replied that he wasn't short of money, and right on cue, Fang Zhuo's message appeared at the top of the screen.
Little Sun: Done.
They Call Me Lie: What exactly did you talk to him about?
Little Sun: Topics that would make you happy?
Little Sun: He really has no idea how to talk to people. [Terrifying]
Fang Zhuo actually had the nerve to say that?
They Call Me Lie: Nothing else?
Little Sun: Nothing else.
Yan Lie wasn't entirely convinced.
He tried not to let it bother him, but in the end, he couldn't help himself.
They Call Me Lie: You didn't tell him to be more sensible and try to understand his difficulties?
Little Sun: ?
Little Sun: Then why don't you be more sensible and try to understand me?
They Call Me Lie: What difficulties do you have?
Little Sun: Not difficulties, exactly. But I do want to earn some brownie points with you.
A dozen seconds later, another message popped up.
Little Sun: Our Lao Ye family doesn't need anyone's understanding. We've still got one empty spot for an unhappy little one, though.
The corners of Yan Lie's mouth curled upward. Slowly, he lowered his phone and covered his ears.
This was getting out of hand. Fang Zhuo was flirting with him again, standing there with a giant loudspeaker and hawking her wares all over his world.
Bag after bag of goods, containing a little bit of everything. They were clearly precious, yet she was giving them away for free, filling in every hollow place inside him.
They Call Me Lie: [Hands Raised]!
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