On the thirteenth day of the lunar month, while A-Heng was organizing things at home, she received a phone call.

The voice on the phone was unfamiliar. He said he had met A-Heng a few times before and wanted to pass something of Yan Xi’s to her.

A-Heng asked who he was.

He said his surname was Chen and that he was an old acquaintance of Yan Xi’s.

A-Heng suddenly remembered who this person was. The Lu family’s secretary, the person Yan Xi feared.

Lin Ruomei had been replaced by Lu Liu two years ago, and the Lu empire now belonged solely to the Lu family. As for the Wen family, though they held shares, it wasn’t clear how much influence they had.

She asked him where to meet. Secretary Chen gave her an address, which A-Heng wrote on a note and tucked into her phone book, just in case. But then, worried about Yan Xi’s involvement, she tore up the paper and prepared to text her relatives and friends. However, counting her options, she felt lost. Because of Lu Liu, she had no one she could truly trust anymore. Her relatives and friends were all Lu Liu’s relatives and friends too – why put others in a difficult position?

A-Heng sighed and decided to go alone.

She took bus route 122, then transferred to routes 159 and 173, winding around for a long time before reaching her destination.

The area was filled with high-rise buildings, once a bustling commercial center, but for some unknown reason, it had gradually declined with the city’s changes. Secretary Chen’s location was in one of the tall buildings adjacent to the fountain in the square. He said he would wait for A-Heng on the top floor.

When A-Heng reached the top floor, she was startled. The top floor was a vast open space, separated by an iron gate thick with red rust. It must have been locked before, but now it was slightly ajar, opening with a gentle push. Wooden horses, slides, and racing car tracks were arranged around the space – a children’s playground. Only in the corner were a few withered rose eggplants, drooping, large, and pitiful.

The few times she had seen him before, Secretary Chen had always worn glasses and an impeccable suit, appearing refined. Now he wore a denim jacket, sitting quietly on the ground, gazing at these dust-covered toys while holding a can of beer.

Seeing A-Heng arrive, he nodded slightly and pulled out a palm-sized red racing car from his large denim jacket. The car was exquisitely made, carefully preserved, and well-maintained. In the sunlight, it casts a warm glow through its thick paint.

He offered it to A-Heng, who froze.

Secretary Chen smiled slightly: “This was Yan Xi’s childhood toy. It’s been with me for so long, it’s time to return it to him.”

A-Heng shook her head, putting her hands behind her back, eyeing him suspiciously, afraid to accept it.

Secretary Chen smiled: “What an adorable child, no wonder.”

A-Heng was direct: “You’re a bad person. Yan Xi doesn’t like you. Don’t bother him anymore.”

Secretary Chen’s smile turned bitter: “To Yan Xi, I am indeed a bad person. But not because of those dirty photographs.”

He said: “I’m giving you this little car to tell you and to remind you, that the relationship and entanglements between Boss and Yan Xi are not something you can interfere with. And what I owe Yan Xi, I’ll carry to my grave and into my next life.”

A-Heng said: “Lu Liu sent you.”

Secretary Chen took a swig of beer and nodded. He said: “A man serves his master. I’m just a chess piece moved here and there.”

A-Heng narrowed her eyes: “Why didn’t he speak to me directly? Why send you?”

Secretary Chen gently placed the car A-Heng hadn’t accepted onto the intricate little track, watching it run without stopping, his expression gradually softening, careful and tender. He said: “You stole his most beloved toy, so he deeply despises you and utterly disdains you, naturally unwilling to come himself. As for why he sent me, probably because I was also part of Yan Xi’s past. I know everything about him and Lu Liu.”

A-Heng caught the red car and examined it in her palm. Looking closely, she noticed the paint was uneven as if it had been touched up later.

Secretary Chen smiled: “It has a story.”

“So?”

“So, what Lu Liu wants to tell you is this story.

“I’ll tell you this matter from the beginning. The rights and wrongs within, Miss Wen, you can judge for yourself.

“The story starts with me. I had no name, and grew up in an orphanage, only knowing my surname was Chen. Later, I was adopted by the Lu family and people always called me Little Chen. When I was ten, because I correctly answered some logic puzzles, the Lu family took me from the orphanage. At first, I thought I would have a complete family, but in reality, I was constantly trained to be a chess piece.

“You know what a chess piece is, right? Someone who helps normally but can be sacrificed at crucial moments. I was sent to the best business schools to study, along with many children my age. Our existence was solely for the Lu family’s only grandson, Lu Liu. He needed a hard chessboard, and in fact, many times this was more important than having a hard heart.”

Secretary Chen paused, and smiled, his voice very soft, carrying reminiscence and seeming almost joyful: “And I, because of my excellent grades, was sent early to Lu Liu’s side to guide his daily studies and life. When Lu Liu was young, he was a very gentle, very kind child. Hmm, somewhat like you, Miss Wen – fair-skinned like a jade figurine, often called ‘Little Bodhisattva Lu’ by the elders.

“I observed him secretly. You know, my presence at his side wasn’t simple. I had to report his every move to Old Master Lu, had to prevent him from only seeing the bright side of the world, and even from becoming too close to any one person. But he would look at me constantly, pitifully saying: ‘Brother, let me play with Yan Xi a little longer, we’ll do homework after we defeat the monster.’ That was the first time I heard Yan Xi’s name from his mouth.”

A-Heng smiled slightly: “Was Yan Xi as sharp then as he is now?”

Secretary Chen waved his hand, lost in deep remembrance: “No, no, no, completely different from now. I’d never seen a child who loved to smile so much, with baby fat on his face, a bowl cut, huge eyes, and a mouth that could smile into the shape of a heart. Every time I saw him, he always wore pink pig slippers, with a milk bag hanging from his mouth, running behind Lu Liu while gulping it down.

“He grew up with Lu Liu, the two of them… because of similar loneliness, they remained very close. There’s a phrase – inseparable – that often proved true with them.

“I frequently saw them sitting together on the carpet playing with Transformers, holding game controllers and killing little characters, yet unknowingly falling into a sweet, deep sleep against each other’s little heads. Ah, yes, Yan Xi had a habit of sucking his thumb while sleeping when he was small, probably because he didn’t have a mother from a very young age.

“This place was set up by me for Lu Liu and Little Xi. No one has ever called Yan Xi that, right? Because that was my exclusive name for him. I called him Little Xi because he was a child I treasured deeply in my heart. I once gave this toy car to him when he was small, he often kept it in his pocket. When I called ‘Little Xi,’ he would solemnly salute me, then put the little car on the track and tell me: ‘Sir, everything is ready, please judge fairly.’

“When he raced against Lu Liu, I was the judge. He often lost and always thought it was because I didn’t favor him enough that he lost to Lu Liu. He mistakenly believed I was unfair. But I lived for Lu Liu, and loving Little Xi was already a kind of unfairness.

“With Old Master Lu, I chose silence, no longer actively reporting, just teaching Lu Liu business skills at appropriate times, taking him to eat the cheapest yet truly delicious food I had eaten as a child, telling him how gentle this world could be. Lu Liu developed in the direction I hoped for – intimate companionship, and a soft heart. But this was already beyond what Old Master Lu could tolerate. He flew into a rage, threatening to take away everything I had, including my position by this child’s side.

“Lu Liu cried and begged him, saying ‘Grandfather, don’t make brother leave, I’ll never dare again.’ From that time on, Lu Liu changed greatly, becoming self-disciplined and patient, though gentle in appearance he no longer loved to talk. He became increasingly dependent on me, yet gradually grew distant from Yan Xi.

“At that time, Yan Xi had just started middle school, a small child just beginning to show signs of adolescence. His beauty was just emerging, like a pipa half-concealed, just a smile, just a glance, so pure it increasingly moved one’s soul. He would carry his sketchbook running all over the city, drawing whatever he saw. I once saw him stand on tiptoe to kiss a brilliant little flower growing in a gap in the city wall and saw him sitting with his head lowered in the park, drawing stray cats. He would feed those cats, but they remained aloof, never smiling at him. Thus, as time passed, he came to understand some principles of the world and no longer smiled at everyone he met. He said only fools smile all the time, and fools are looked down upon by those with hard hearts.

“Later, he often went to the places where Lu Liu and I ate together, and would come back to tell us very seriously: ‘I’ve eaten the food you eat, it’s too sweet, too sour, too bitter, not good, really.’

“Lu Liu would look at him, always smiling meaninglessly, trying to be tolerant or patient with Yan Xi’s childishness despite his youthful pride. He often said to me: ‘Brother, Yan Xi is still too young, isn’t he?’ He was eager to proclaim his maturity, preferring to teach me how to eat an elaborate European dinner rather than expose his weakness by crying loudly in my arms.

“But he and Yan Xi were so strikingly similar, sometimes even like each other’s shadows. No one is happy without their shadow. Yan Xi became dejected, and Lu Liu was equally unstable.

“He often said he needed to think of a better way to make Yan Xi stronger, so they could become the world’s best friends again, inseparable even by grandfather. But even thinking this way, his behavior already showed disdain and hatred for Yan Xi’s age-appropriate innocence and confusion.

“Yan Xi used to love singing a randomly composed song to Lu Liu, with lyrics saying, ‘La la la la, the sky has turned dark, the sunflower has lost me.’ Lu Liu would ask where he was, and Yan Xi would sing in response: ‘The sunflower has you.’ Others say Yan Xi is now as brilliant as a sunflower, but he was light itself, never depending on other light. Lu Liu was like the moon, always drawing warmth from him. This warmth was endless, and when he grew accustomed to it, he took it for granted. Lu Liu told me, ‘Brother, every time I turn around, Yan Xi is there, it’s annoying.’

Every time he turned around, there was Yan Xi, frowning and pretending not to smile, so small yet standing there brilliantly in the sunlight, really, really annoying.

Secretary Chen hesitated slightly, then spoke softly: “In 1997, I don’t know if you heard from the news, there was an explosion at the south end of B City, caused by fireworks set off inside a bar during New Year’s celebrations. Thirty-three people died.”

A-Heng tried hard to recall, remembering this tragic incident. Raging flames consuming and exploding, spreading wildly, endless burning, horrific screams – she had seen it all, those tragic faces enlarged in the newspapers back then.

Secretary Chen crumpled the beer can, looking wearily at the sky: “At the time, I was there with Lu Liu and Yan Xi. Lu Liu and Yan Xi had drunk too much, and I was quietly watching over them. I was watching the fireworks inside, thinking how beautiful they were one moment, but the next second I heard horrific screams spreading with the wind.”

He said: “At that moment, I… only chose one.”

A-Heng froze, tears falling continuously from her eyes as she stared at him in disbelief. The heartache squeezed out her breath, she couldn’t breathe, and finally, as if mad, she knocked him to the ground. She kept crying, voice hoarse, shouting: “How could you, how could you so easily abandon him?”

Secretary Chen’s eyes were numb as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth: “My first reaction was to grab Lu Liu, while Yan Xi held his hand, looking at us with fear and pleading. I couldn’t carry both half-grown children out at once.

“Yan Xi’s eyes held sadness, almost as if he had predicted the outcome. Lu Liu violently shook off his hand and said to me: ‘Don’t look back, don’t you dare look back.’ I didn’t know then that this was all part of young Lu Liu’s scheme to train Yan Xi’s mind.

“But I did look back. Yan Xi had tears in his eyes, lying on the ground, so thin and small, looking up at the melting sign, desperately crawling toward the exit.”

Desperate… desperate… desperate…

He said: “By the time I got Lu Liu to safety, the bar had become a sea of fire. I couldn’t tell which was fire and which was Yan Xi. I seemed to hear him calling ‘Brother, save me,’ but I could never find him again, only this burned toy car. I can’t find peace, almost every day is a nightmare. Lu Liu couldn’t face Yan Xi and used studying abroad as an excuse to go to Vienna.”

He lay on his back, laughing miserably while crying: “I had promised him I would love him fairly, just like Lu Liu. But in 1997, one month after Lu Liu left, I watched as Lin Ruomei’s people humiliated him, and to end his suffering, I picked up the camera. Through the camera, I softly called ‘Little Xi,’ but he hung his head as if unhearing, fists clenched, surrounded by darkness. Lu Liu and I finally destroyed that foolish child who gave us unlimited sunshine – we destroyed love itself.”

A-Heng breathed deeply, but tears covered her face. She kept wiping her eyes with her sleeve, wiping and wiping until she crouched on the ground, sobbing loudly.

In 1997, Hong Kong returned to China amid national celebration; Zai Zai had grown a bit and could eat half a bowl of food; school sent her to the city for her first mathematics competition, where she was lucky enough to win first place.

Counting on her fingers, she realized that somehow, every single thing had nothing to do with her Mr. Yan.

As the sky darkened, someone gently pushed open the creaking door.

That person looked at the red toy car drawing beautiful arcs on the track, where perhaps many years ago there had been cheers. Perhaps for one person’s victory, or perhaps for another’s defeat.

In this city, when some lose completely, others win hollow victories.

He quietly walked past the bespectacled man, tall now, no longer looking like a child.

They all wanted him to grow up, and look – because of this forced growth, he had become more worn and aged than anyone.

He held the painstakingly pieced-together address in his hand, gently crouched down, and took the crying young woman into his arms.

A-Heng hung her head, trembling as she spoke: “I can’t even find a reason to tell them in 1997 that the youth they abandoned would become someone’s heart and soul in 2003. They even nearly trampled another’s treasure using ignorance as an excuse!”

Yan Xi froze, looking intently at this child without missing a detail, only then discovering that the sadness and pain in her eyes had carved into her bones, impossible to go deeper.

He understood what she meant almost instantly.

He felt sad, yet clumsily tucked A-Heng closer into his embrace: “Baby, I crawled out, see? I’m so capable, I didn’t need anyone to save me. I understand this world is unfair, but I just… didn’t know other people’s love looked like this.”

Love was abandonment, love was doing one’s best and then standing idly by – for them, love was everything except what love should look like.

“I don’t need it, and I don’t want it,” he said, gripping A-Heng’s bones almost into his flesh and bone. “But, Wen Heng, in this world, only one person must love me fairly. You must love only me.”

Wen Heng, you must love me fairly, love only me.

Only you.

A-Heng looked up at him, and looked deeply for a long time, before finally nodding gently.

She promised him fairness, for her future but could only be so biased.

She wiped away her tears, frowning, yet looking so serious. She said to him: “Unless reduced to yellow earth and white bones, I’ll guard you to be without worry for a hundred years.”

Light a longevity lamp, and bargain for a hundred-year life. Yan Xi ninety-seven, A-Heng three years complete.

Swear to the gods, explain to the gods.

She could no longer turn back.