Twenty-Four

The next day was Saturday, but Xu Yan woke early—he had to go shoot with Lu Sen. Past seven, he packed up and headed out. The weather was cold, and Xu Yan planned to stop by the wonton stall at the Residential Area Entrance for a bowl of wontons. The moment he opened the door, he nearly retreated in fright—Shen Zhi was standing right there, faint blue-black shadows under his eyes, hair uncombed, dressed carelessly, the kind of look that came from throwing on a coat in a panic over some emergency. Rare sight.

The scene of Xu Nian screaming at Shen Zhi last night was still vivid, making his head ache. Xu Yan looked at him for two seconds, closed the door, and turned toward the elevator. Shen Zhi suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist—Xu Yan hissed—Shen Zhi's hand was unreasonably cold, he almost shivered.

'Let go.' Xu Yan struggled once, couldn't break free. He looked coldly at Shen Zhi—Shen Zhi paused for a moment, then let go.

Xu Yan was too lazy to think about it, about to stride forward again, but Shen Zhi called out to him, voice low and hoarse: 'Xu Yan.'

'If you have something to say, say it. If not, I'm going to work.' Xu Yan turned back, frowning.

Shen Zhi pressed his lips together, seeming not to know how to begin. After a few seconds he found an opening: 'Your Storage Card...'

'You brought it?' Strange—he could've just mailed it over, but came all this way early in the morning. Xu Yan didn't understand, didn't want to guess. He extended his hand to Shen Zhi: 'Give it here, thanks.'

Shen Zhi stared at his palm, his Adam's apple moved, then looked up: 'Didn't find it.'

'What?' Xu Yan turned fully around, looking at him. 'You had someone clean the study?'

'No.'

'The bottom drawer on the right side of the desk. I wouldn't misremember.' Xu Yan said.

'Didn't find it.'

Xu Yan furrowed his brow, carefully considering where he might have put the Storage Card, but thinking it over it should be in that drawer... After a while he said: 'Then please look elsewhere for me. Whenever you find it, mail it to me.'

But Shen Zhi said: 'I looked everywhere. Didn't find it.'

Xu Yan was silent for a moment: 'Forget it.' Most of the photos were backed up on the computer—if he really couldn't find it, he'd have to let it go... Maybe Shen Zhi had someone clean and it got thrown out. What could he do? He'd been careless first.

'You could... go back and look yourself.' Shen Zhi suddenly said.

'What?' Xu Yan blurted, then glanced at Shen Zhi a little strangely. 'No need.' He checked his phone again: 'Sorry for the trouble of coming all this way today. Goodbye.'

He left after speaking, his attitude distant and without a backward glance. For the first time Shen Zhi realized that words like 'thanks,' 'sorry for the trouble,' 'goodbye'—these polite phrases—could be so grating, when they came from Xu Yan's mouth. He hesitated briefly, then followed Xu Yan and got on the elevator together.

Xu Yan leaned against the wall looking at his phone. Lu Sen said he'd come pick him up in twenty minutes. Xu Yan calculated—he could eat wontons today after all. Shen Zhi stood to his left, not far, not close. Xu Yan vaguely sensed him watching, then thought he was overthinking. Weird—but whatever, he was too lazy to dig deeper.

Ding—the elevator doors opened. Xu Yan walked out. From his building to the Residential Area Entrance wasn't far, about two minutes. Shen Zhi kept walking half a step behind him. Xu Yan acted as if he didn't notice. Saturday morning, everyone was sleeping in. The wonton stall wasn't crowded. Xu Yan greeted the Boss: 'One bowl of wontons.' Then went to sit at a small table nearby.

He heard Shen Zhi order a bowl of wontons too.

Xu Yan tucked both hands into his sleeves, a very honest peasant-style warming pose. The street was just too cold, but this stall's wontons were good—just didn't know when the Boss would ever wise up and rent a storefront...

He was still planning the Boss's business prospects when Shen Zhi walked over and sat down beside him. Xu Yan turned his head and clearly saw Shen Zhi frowning down at the dirty, greasy little wooden table.

Heh. Xu Yan laughed coldly inside—he should've realized long ago that he and Shen Zhi weren't compatible, in every way.

'Haven't eaten breakfast?' Xu Yan said flatly.

As if he hadn't expected Xu Yan to speak first, Shen Zhi paused, then gave a low 'mm.'

But after asking, Xu Yan suddenly paused himself. He opened his phone—7:08. Driving from Shen Zhi's place took about an hour and a half, which meant he might have left at 5:30. Though he understood the longing of reuniting with Tang Yunyan after a long separation, this kind of initiative and enthusiasm still deeply shocked Xu Yan.

He realized—someone cold to you through and through will eventually give all their patience and tenderness to someone else. Don't worry.

'Your two bowls of wontons are ready!' The Boss turned and called.

Xu Yan stood up to respond, but someone behind him was hurrying past carrying wontons. He bumped right into them. The person yelped, their hand tilted, and the whole bowl of scalding wontons came pouring down—no time to dodge.

In that instant Xu Yan thought it was over, the hand holding the Camera was done for, Tide losing a rising star of photography, whatever... But in a blink, a hand reached swiftly from behind, blocking his hand back. The scalding soup only splashed a few drops on Xu Yan's sleeve. He turned in surprise and saw Shen Zhi's tightly furrowed brow.

'Oh damn, sorry sorry!' The other person apologized hurriedly. 'Here, here, get it treated quickly.'

'It's fine, we weren't paying attention.' Shen Zhi looked down at Xu Yan rapidly pulling tissues to wipe his hand, and said: 'Give him my bowl first.'

Xu Yan silently tossed the tissue into the trash, went to get the wontons, one bowl to compensate the passerby, one bowl back to his own table, then asked the Boss to make another.

When he returned, Shen Zhi was wiping his clothes. On his fair right hand back was a patch of burned red. Shen Zhi had never done manual labor, yet it was the right hand, again the right hand, taking injury for him a second time.

'Go to the Hospital and have it looked at.' Xu Yan said.

'It's fine, not serious.' Shen Zhi said with his head lowered.

Xu Yan sat down, pushed the wontons toward him, pulled his hand over and wiped the soup from his sleeve clean, then stared at his hand back carefully. After a few seconds he pressed his own slightly cooler hand back against it, to cool it down—anyway, a very habitual gesture. After a long silence, Xu Yan said: 'I'll go with you to the Hospital, get some medicine on it.'

One thing at a time—he and Shen Zhi had cleanly severed things emotionally, but this was genuinely blocked for him by the other person. Whether it was subconscious or whatever, Xu Yan didn't want to owe him.

This time Shen Zhi didn't refuse. He kept looking at Xu Yan and said: 'Okay.'

Xu Yan released his hand: 'You eat first, I'll tell my colleague.' He texted Lu Sen on WeChat, apologizing for a sudden matter, saying he'd go to the location himself in half an hour. Lu Sen replied: 'OK, I'll head over first, come after you've resolved it.'

The new wontons were ready quickly. Xu Yan brought them to the table and saw Shen Zhi using a plastic spoon to scoop wontons, his wrist slightly unsteady. Xu Yan suddenly asked: 'Did you go to Doctor Liu for a checkup and acupuncture?' The last time Doctor Liu had called him urging a checkup was over a month ago. The assistant would definitely have told Shen Zhi, but Xu Yan suspected that given Shen Zhi's character of not caring about things when busy, he might not have taken it to heart at all.

Shen Zhi paused: 'No.'

He thought Xu Yan would be anxious, would ask him like before why he still hadn't gone, would coax him like a child saying the consequences of not going are very serious, you know, don't make me worry, baby... words like that. But Xu Yan just sat down calmly, using his spoon to stir the wontons and cool them, and said lukewarmly: 'Good, eventually the pain will kill you.'

Shen Zhi paused, his hand action stopped. His right wrist seemed to really ache for a moment—or somewhere else, like a rising tide, blocking those words about to come out. Everything became unspeakable.

After the wontons, Xu Yan drove Shen Zhi's car to the Hospital. Shen Zhi sat in the passenger seat. From his angle, Xu Yan's lips were pressed together, his expression showing some cold impatience. They didn't speak the whole way. At the Hospital, registering, seeing the doctor, getting medicine—back and forth, Xu Yan was the one running everything.

While the nurse applied the medicine, Xu Yan came over and put the car key on the table, then immediately turned and left. Shen Zhi turned to look at the door, not knowing where he'd gone. After the medicine was applied, Shen Zhi stood in the corridor, didn't see Xu Yan, called him, got hung up on. Soon a text came through: 'Medical fees already paid.'

Xu Yan had left without a word, too lazy to even say goodbye.

Shen Zhi looked at that text for a long time, then texted: 'What time do you get off work? I'll come pick you up.'

Xu Yan sat in the taxi, glanced at the screen, frowning in extreme irritation—he didn't understand what Shen Zhi wanted. The words had been said clearly long ago, so clear they were about to explode. Why keep stepping on his defenses one after another? This wasn't fun at all. He thought of Shen Zhi's hand, his heart ached. That 'eventually the pain will kill you' hadn't been his intention—Shen Zhi's hand had originally been injured because of him. Xu Yan knew he was being ungrateful saying that, but what standing did he have to care about the other's body anymore? Besides, Shen Zhi didn't need his concern.

Taking a deep breath, Xu Yan typed a few words on his phone, then locked the screen, closed his eyes, and leaned back against the seat.

The Hospital elevator was crowded. Shen Zhi stood in a corner, his hand back accidentally bumped hard by someone beside him. He frowned and drew a breath, moving his hand up a bit. His phone rang; on the lock screen a message bubble appeared—Xu Yan's reply: 'No need, I don't want to see you.'

Ding—first floor. People streamed out around them, the elevator suddenly empty. The lobby wind blew in, warmth mixed with the smell of disinfectant and crowds. Shen Zhi still stood there, looking at the darkened phone screen, until someone asked him: 'You're not getting off?'

He slowly raised his head, said sorry, and walked out of the elevator.