Neither Zhou Ya nor Fang Long had expected that the first person close to them to find out about their relationship would be Ren Jianbai. Nor had they expected that the Jiang Yao matter would take a turn within two hours.

By the time Ren Jianbai called, Zhou Ya was already busy at the stall marinating the mantis shrimp for the evening. He held the phone between shoulder and ear, listening to Ren Jianbai explain that Jiang Yao’s incident had actually been caused by taking soft drugs — and cheap counterfeit ones at that.

Ren Jianbai said: “Old Gao and I went to the hospital again — that kid was awake, and he really can’t handle pressure. We shoved the report in his face and he spilled everything, stammering.”

Jiang Yao had felt unwell the day before, his stomach burning with pain, but he’d toughed it out without going to the hospital. By today, he’d vomited blood and passed out. Not wanting his family to know he’d taken “pills,” he’d pinned it on Zhou Ya, claiming the internal bleeding was from the beating.

Ren Jianbai rattled on nonstop like beans pouring from a bag: “He said it was his first time trying that stuff, a friend talked him into it, he thought it wouldn’t test positive after a day. He named all the friends who went singing with him that night — a bunch of young kids just chasing a little thrill. A few others had symptoms similar to Jiang Yao’s, but a bit milder, didn’t faint or need hospitalization.”

“Ugh, you weren’t there, the scene was total chaos. Jiang Yao’s dad slapped him right across the face, one after another, until Jiang Yao was howling. His mom went after his dad. That little girlfriend of his was there too — oh, that’s the girl who had the falling out with Fang Long last time — scared and crying the whole time.”

“Though the real reason for Jiang Yao’s hospitalization has nothing to do with you this time, you were still wrong to hit him. As a dutiful officer of the people, it’s my duty to criticize and educate you! A fight feels good for a moment, but the tears come later, and you’re not exactly young anymore—” the line cut off abruptly.

Zhou Ya, unable to stand his rambling, hung up directly.

A few seconds later, Ren Jianbai called back. Zhou Ya picked up, irritated: “Cut the nonsense.”

Ren Jianbai swallowed the curse on the tip of his tongue and asked bluntly: “What’s going on between you and Fang Long?!”

Zhou Ya, one hand chopping cilantro, didn’t even lift his eyelids: “Your ears aren’t deaf, you eavesdropped at my place just now, didn’t you?”

Ren Jianbai stammered: “That, that, that could mean a lot of things! ‘Being together all night’ could mean playing mahjong or cards till dawn, or sitting in the living room watching movies all night!”

Zhou Ya couldn’t be bothered to hide it from him, glancing at Fang Long helping out beside him: “No, that night I was in her room. She fell asleep, and I stayed with her.”

There was a long silence on the other end.

Zhou Ya knew he needed to give everyone time to process and accept it, so he sighed and asked: “You free tonight?”

“…I’m on duty tonight, till tomorrow morning.”

“Then how about breakfast together?”

“…Old Banyan Tree rice noodle rolls.”

“Fine.”

After he hung up, Fang Long hurried to ask: “What did Old Bai say?”

Zhou Ya told Fang Long everything he’d heard, word for word. When she heard the word “K-pills,” Fang Long involuntarily shivered: “Why, why is it that again…”

Zhou Ya knew Fang Long deeply hated these kinds of things. It was one of the executioners that had torn her family apart. Thinking about it carefully now, Zhou Ya felt a chill of his own — if Fang Long hadn’t broken up with that guy yet, she might have been influenced too. If not this “drug,” then some other one. Zhou Ya was grateful that he could now hold Fang Long securely in his arms.

Fang Long helped him seal the evenly marinated mantis shrimp with plastic wrap and asked: “What else did Old Bai say?”

Zhou Ya glanced at her sideways: “What else could there be? Just that thing about me staying in your room all night.”

Fang Long stuck out her tongue. She’d spoken too hastily earlier, without thinking it through — truly, acting on impulse leads to trouble.

Fang Long muttered under her breath: “I wonder if Auntie heard anything…”

After Ren Jianbai and Officer Gao left, Auntie had come out of her room — it seemed she hadn’t been asleep after all. Zhou Ya recalled his mother’s expression. Mostly worry, no different from usual.

“Not sure, we’ll keep an eye on it these next few days.” Zhou Ya, his hands smelling of marinade, only lowered his head, nuzzling the top of Fang Long’s hair lightly with his nose, saying quietly, “Alright, stop overthinking it. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. It’ll have to come out sooner or later — if she heard, she heard. Unless…”

Zhou Ya paused a moment, his voice dropping even lower: “Unless you don’t want her to know.”

Fang Long immediately propped up on her elbow and jabbed him, baring her two little canine teeth as she scolded: “You’re the one who shouldn’t overthink it!”

That night, after closing up the stall and heading home, Ma Huimin had already gone to bed. The two of them, afraid of another sudden incident like the night before, didn’t dare act up in the bathroom again. Each in their own room, they chatted across the gap via QQ like any other young couple.

There was something weighing on Fang Long’s mind, and she asked Zhou Ya whether he still needed the old computer at home.

Zhou Ya, puzzled: “I barely get a chance to use it, why?”

Fang Long: “That day we went to the welfare institute, I heard Xiao Hong say they don’t usually get a chance to use a computer. Isn’t that computer of ours just sitting unused? I was thinking of asking Boss Qin to upgrade the specs, maybe get a new monitor, and donate it to the welfare institute for the kids to use daily. What do you think?”

Zhou Ya: “Sure, one of these days I’ll take the tower over to Old Qin’s shop and have him sort it out.”

Fang Long, hair still damp, lying on her stomach on the bed, typed quickly: “I’ll cover the cost!”

Zhou Ya raised an eyebrow: “You, little miser, suddenly so generous? Struck it rich?”

Staring at the message, Fang Long froze for a moment, then abruptly sat up, calling Zhou Ya on the phone while glaring fiercely at the wall between their two rooms, as if she could burn a hole through it with her eyes.

Zhou Ya answered quickly, his voice lazy: “What?”

Fang Long ground her teeth: “I’m a miser?!”

Zhou Ya laughed: “Aren’t you?”

“I’m just… just frugal and good at managing a household!”

“Right, right, right.” Zhou Ya lay on the bed, legs crossed. “Why the sudden urge to donate a computer to the welfare institute?”

“I just want to do something for the kids.” Fang Long lowered her head, picking at the blanket, thinking it over, then mumbled, “Just like you did back then.”

In the past, she and Zhou Ya had fought plenty, but Fang Long wasn’t heartless — like the lyrics of a certain Cantonese song, she knew clearly who treated her well and who treated her poorly.

Zhou Ya chuckled softly, accepting this gesture of hers, and said: “Alright then, on behalf of the kids at the welfare institute, thank you, Sister Long Long.”

The next morning, Zhou Ya got up early, and Ma Huimin was up too. He explained the Jiang Yao matter to Ma Huimin, mentioning that Jiang Yao’s family had already dropped the case, and Ma Huimin finally relaxed. Zhou Ya watched his mother closely several times, and seeing nothing unusual in her expression, felt somewhat at ease.

He didn’t eat breakfast at home; the rice noodle roll shop he’d arranged to meet Ren Jianbai at was in front of the middle school they’d both attended, where the two of them used to eat almost every day.

Ren Jianbai arrived with two dark circles under his eyes, and the first thing he said upon seeing him was: “You sly dog, Zhou Ya, no wonder you objected back when Auntie Min wanted to match me up with Fang Long!”

Zhou Ya was momentarily stunned, having nearly forgotten that episode. Back then, Ren Jianbai hadn’t yet met his wife Lin Tian; after several failed blind dates, one day when Ren Jianbai came over to mooch a meal, Ma Huimin had actually asked him if he wanted to try dating Fang Long. At the time, Fang Long had just turned eighteen a few days prior, and Zhou Ya, his temper flaring, had slammed his chopsticks on the table and loudly declared he didn’t agree. His mother had quickly laughed it off, saying she was just joking.

…

“Tsk, my mom was joking that time, and you actually took it seriously?” Zhou Ya rolled his eyes at him.

“Whether I take it seriously is none of your business…” Ren Jianbai, having processed it all night, had finally figured it out — all those past conflicts had been driven by ulterior motives all along. “Anyway, you’ve had ulterior motives from way back.”

Zhou Ya didn’t entirely agree with Ren Jianbai’s characterization, but he didn’t deny it either: “Sure, call it ulterior motives then.”

The rice noodle rolls arrived, and Ren Jianbai scraped the burrs off his disposable chopsticks, asking: “Does Auntie Min know?”

Zhou Ya shook his head.

Ren Jianbai: “Have you thought about how to tell her?”

Zhou Ya shook his head again.

“I thought about it last night — actually, this works out pretty well. Doesn’t Auntie Min always worry about you two’s love lives? Now she can solve both your relationship problems at once, and with people you already know inside and out — living habits and everything already worked out. Perfect!” Ren Jianbai chewed on his rice noodle rolls, mumbling, “Also, that saying ‘a beating is affection, scolding is love’ — I think I finally get it now…”

Zhou Ya rolled his eyes again: “You make it sound like I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“You’d better hurry up, look at your age, an old bachelor… Fang Long’s so young, any minute now some other handsome young guy could sweep her off her feet, and then you’ll be too old for her.”

Zhou Ya choked, kicking him under the table: “Get lost, how am I not as good as those young guys? Skinny as ribs, one push and they’d fall over.”

Ren Jianbai kicked him back, teasing: “Sure, sure, sure, just make sure the little ancestor doesn’t push you over.”

Zhou Ya cursed with a laugh: “Get lost.”

The two finished eating and left the shop, standing under the old banyan tree by the road for an after-meal smoke. Ren Jianbai, cigarette between his lips, patted Zhou Ya’s shoulder: “Bro, this road might not be an easy one to walk.”

Easy to say, but what if Auntie Min didn’t approve? Ren Jianbai could think of many other variables, but couldn’t bear to dampen Zhou Ya’s mood at this juncture. Because Fang Long, that little ancestor, was really just too young. They’d both been through their twenties — restless, unsettled, unwilling to commit to anything less than a whirlwind romance, the word “love” always on their lips, weightless, let alone “family.”

Zhou Ya flicked away his ash: “However hard the road, you won’t know the outcome unless you walk it.”

He knew this road wouldn’t be easy, of course, but as long as Fang Long was willing to walk it, he’d walk it with her. Unless… Fang Long no longer wanted to. But when that time came, would he be able to bear letting her go?

The things Zhou Ya and Fang Long had bought at the supermarket the day before were still in the van. After buying the ingredients needed for the shop, Zhou Ya went back to the new house, wanting to tidy up a bit more.

He inserted the key into the security door and felt something off the moment he turned it. The door was unlocked. His heart rate quickened inexplicably; he opened the door and walked in, hearing singing coming from the bedroom.

The singer, unaware anyone had entered, was singing off-key: “Take me away, to the distant future—”

Zhou Ya set down his things and followed the sound. Yesterday he’d given Fang Long a spare key to the new place, but the two of them hadn’t agreed on when she’d come by. An empty, deflated backpack lay on the floor — probably what Fang Long had used to carry her things.

The master bedroom’s wardrobe door was open, blocking Zhou Ya’s view; Fang Long was bent over rummaging through something, and all he could see was half of her bottom swaying back and forth.

This house had been bought quite some time ago, but Zhou Ya had never actually lived in it, and it had never felt much like “home” to him — more like a new “residence.” Only in this moment did he truly, genuinely feel that this was his “home.”

An indescribable emotion surged up, and Zhou Ya strode forward, wrapping his arms around Fang Long from behind.

“Ah!!”

Completely unprepared, Fang Long screamed in fright, dropping the clothes in her hands, and instinctively slapped backward at the “intruder.”

Zhou Ya took the slap without complaint, biting down on the earphone cord dangling by Fang Long’s ear and pulling it out: “It’s me.”

The moment he finished speaking, he’d already pressed his lips to the smooth, pale skin of her neck.

“It’s you… it’s you… even if it’s you, you can’t scare me like that!!”

The fright turned into anger; Fang Long twisted and stomped furiously, shoving hard at the arms circling her waist. But this was Zhou Ya — there was no way she could push him off. Kiss after kiss fell, from the side of her neck to her earlobe, from the curve of her ear to her jaw. His hot breath crept into her ear, resonating with her drumming heartbeat. The moisture at the corners of Fang Long’s eyes — she couldn’t tell if it was from the sudden fright, or from her body gradually stirring awake.

The tall, sturdy man already carried some weight on his own, and holding her so tightly, Fang Long’s legs went weak, and she stumbled forward a step: “I’ll fall, I’ll fall!”

“I won’t let you fall.”

Zhou Ya’s voice was like dry wood scorched by fire; he wrapped an arm around her waist and spun her around on the spot, then, cupping her bottom, lifted her easily off the ground.

Fang Long found that she’d become “practiced” at this — the moment her legs left the ground, they instinctively wrapped around his waist. Her chest heaved violently, her dark eyes glistening, and even her scolding softened: “Zhou Ya, did you eat rice noodle rolls this morning, or Viagra?!”

“Mm, must be something messed up the boss put in the food. I’ll go settle the score with him later.”

Zhou Ya was talking nonsense. Through her fuzzy sweater, he pressed his nose to her collarbone, saying hoarsely, “Pull it up, let me have a taste.”

This wasn’t a night with stars and moon rising together, all silent and still — warm sunlight was pouring in through the window. The bedroom faced the complex’s central garden, and one could faintly hear the neighbors downstairs greeting each other and chatting.

However thick-skinned Fang Long might be, she’d never tried doing this sort of thing in broad daylight before. Flustered and embarrassed, she bared her teeth, muttering: “It’s daytime right now!”

Zhou Ya kissed her chin, his eyes holding a coaxing, pleading look: “Just one bite.”