Returning home, the first thing Jiang Zhaoye did was take a shower.
Hot water poured down from the showerhead onto him, scalding his skin until it turned slightly red.
Jiang Zhaoye stood motionless beneath the stream of water. As the hot water continuously washed over his body, steam drifted up, blurring the tiles, the glass partition, and his vision.
He closed his eyes, yet those images still filled his mind—the emaciated corpses, those dead, despairing eyes, and those bones bearing teeth marks... He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands, his fingers trembling slightly under the hot water.
After finishing his shower, Jiang Zhaoye stood in front of the mirror, drying his hair with a towel.
The boy in the mirror looked weary around the eyes, with faint dark circles beneath them. His ice-blue eyes seemed covered in a layer of mist, appearing melancholic and clouded.
The young boy's movements slowly ground to a halt. He stared silently at his reflection for a long time as an indescribable, complex emotion surged up in his heart.
Unable to stay in his room, he walked out to the living room and spent a while on the sofa—sitting, lying down, curling up—before standing back up, walking to the balcony, and looking down at the courtyard below.
A loquat tree stood quietly in the corner, while several pots of succulents glinted with plump luster under the setting sun.
Everything was tranquil and peaceful, completely different from the world he had seen today. Yet those scenes kept flashing through his mind like a movie playing over and over, impossible to drive away.
With a dark face, Jiang Zhaoye returned to the living room, walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator to glance at the food inside, and shut it again.
Striding to the entryway near the stairs, the boy turned right back around and paced back and forth across the living room, circle after circle, as restless as a trapped beast in a cage.
In that moment, he desperately wanted to find someone to talk to.
But what could Jiang Zhaoye say? Say that he had traveled to another world and seen starved corpses littering the ground? Say that he had seen bones gnawed on by their own kind? He opened his mouth, facing the empty living room, but couldn't squeeze out a single word.
World travel was his greatest secret; he didn't dare tell a soul.
Truly unable to stay inside any longer, he put on his shoes and headed straight out the door.
The residential compound was very quiet. The evening breeze carried a touch of chill, making the camphor leaves by the roadside rustle gently.
Walking slowly along the asphalt road, he saw a few young children chasing each other and playing in the open space below the building, their laughter crisp like wind chimes.
A young woman pushed a stroller past him. The baby inside looked at him with grape-like dark eyes, babbling away, its chubby face matching its waving, chubby arms and legs. A Golden Retriever lay on the grass by the road, lazily wagging its tail; seeing Jiang Zhaoye walk over, it raised its head to glance at him before lying back down.
Slowing his pace, he watched these mundane, everyday scenes, feeling the restlessness in his heart gradually settle a bit.
Yet that heavy sensation remained, like a stone pressing down on his chest—not only impossible to lift away, but growing heavier and heavier instead.
He pulled out his phone, scrolled to Chen Tuizhi's number, and dialed it.
The call picked up after two rings, and Chen Tuizhi's voice came through the receiver: "Hello?"
Jiang Zhaoye opened his mouth, striving to make his voice sound normal. "Out for dinner?"
The other end fell silent for a moment before Chen Tuizhi's voice returned: "Sure, where?"
"The usual place."
"Be right there."
Hanging up the phone, Jiang Zhaoye stood by the roadside, looking at the darkening sky, and took a deep breath.
By the time Chen Tuizhi arrived, Jiang Zhaoye was already sitting in the restaurant they frequented.
His childhood friend sat by the window with a cup of tea in front of him untouched, his gaze falling heavily out the window as if watching something, yet looking at nothing at all.
He had an air of weathered exhaustion about him, looking old despite his young age.
Chen Tuizhi walked over, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He scanned Jiang Zhaoye up and down, his brows furrowing. He had originally wanted to tease him with something like, "Haven't seen you in a few days, how'd you get even handsomer, kid?" But upon seeing Jiang Zhaoye's eyes, he swallowed the words back down.
Those ice-blue eyes seemed covered in a layer of grey, and his entire person exuded an indescribable fatigue and gloom. Having grown up with him since childhood, Chen Tuizhi had never seen him like this before.
"What's wrong?" Chen Tuizhi asked, a probing tone in his voice.
Jiang Zhaoye shook his head. "Nothing. Just a bit tired."
Chen Tuizhi said nothing. After glancing at him for a moment, he silently picked up the menu and soon arranged a table full of dishes. He ordered everything Jiang Zhaoye usually loved: stir-fried spirit sprouts, braised spirit fish, an iced spirit fruit platter, and a pot of fresh, delicious wild mushroom soup.
When the dishes were served, steam billowed upward, and aroma instantly flooded the table. Chen Tuizhi picked up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks and dropped it into Jiang Zhaoye's bowl. "Son, your dear father bestows this upon you. Eat up!"
Jiang Zhaoye looked down at the chicken in his bowl. After a moment of silence, he picked up his chopsticks and began to eat slowly.
Chen Tuizhi's heart skipped a beat.
Oh damn, this looks like a serious problem.
As they ate, the two chatted. Chen Tuizhi racked his brain talking about recent student gossip and fun anecdotes—what announcements their homeroom teacher had sent out, who in class was planning to go to which high school, and how a new psionic supply shop had opened at the neighborhood entrance, selling decent-quality items at cheap prices.
Jiang Zhaoye listened, giving occasional responses. He took a bite of food, then stopped; he had a sip of soup, then put the bowl down.
Those handsome blue eyes looked over melancholically. Several times he seemed on the verge of speaking, only to swallow the words back down.
He couldn't say it. He couldn't say anything at all.
He even found himself unable to eat the food, left only to listen sullenly as Chen Tuizhi made idle small talk.
As Chen Tuizhi talked, he gradually quieted down as well. Setting down his chopsticks, he looked at Jiang Zhaoye, fell silent for a moment, and then asked, "Did something happen to you?"
Jiang Zhaoye paused for a moment before shaking his head. "No."
"Who are you trying to fool?" Chen Tuizhi said. "You've been terrible at lying since we were kids; whenever you lie, you don't dare look people in the eye. From the moment you sat down until now, how many times have you looked at me?"
Jiang Zhaoye opened his mouth to refute it, but realized he truly had no words. He could only lower his head, staring silently at the food in his bowl.
"Look at you, staying silent again whenever you hit a hard question."
Chen Tuizhi complained, but didn't push him further. He simply picked up the ladle, scooped a bowl of soup for him, and placed it by his hand. "If you don't want to talk, don't. Drink the soup first."
Jiang Zhaoye forced himself to lift the bowl and took a sip.
It was mushroom soup; the savory umami melted over his tongue, warming its way down his throat all the way to his stomach.
He set down the bowl, raised his head, and looked at Chen Tuizhi. He wanted to say something, but ultimately nothing came out except, "Thanks."
Chen Tuizhi waved his hand. "Come off it, why are you being so formal with me? Once we're done eating, your dear father will take you to buy clothes. Didn't you say a couple days ago that you wanted to buy a few new pieces?"
Jiang Zhaoye froze for a moment. "How did you know?"
"You said so last time, did you forget?" Chen Tuizhi said. "You said you wanted to buy some new clothes before school starts and asked me to help you pick. What, you forgot?"
Jiang Zhaoye remembered; he really had said that. That had been a long time ago—so long that he had almost forgotten it. He nodded. "Yeah. Let's go check it out after eating."
Chen Tuizhi grinned. "That's more like it. You've gotten handsomer out of nowhere, kid. With a handsome face like yours, you should dress it up a bit. Once we're full, we'll go shop around, get some new clothes, and dazzle those old classmates of ours in a few days."
Looking at Chen Tuizhi's grinning face, Jiang Zhaoye felt the heavy sensation in his heart lighten a bit. He nodded, picked up the remaining piece of chicken from his bowl, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed tastelessly, and swallowed it down.
Rate on N.U.
