Luo Yang placed the bowls and chopsticks in the sink and turned on the faucet to rinse the sauce from his fingers.
“Mom, I’m heading out for a bit to buy a phone.”
Yan Ya was wiping down the kitchen counter. She didn’t look up as she spoke. “Going out this late?”
“Being without a phone these days feels like having a broken leg; I just don’t feel right,” Luo Yang said, drying his hands on a towel. “A-Zhi, come on, I’ll take you for a stroll.”
Yan Zhi slid down from her chair. She glanced at the Coke bottle on the table, which still had a small sip left at the bottom, hesitated for a moment, and finally decided to leave it.
Yan Ya hung the dishcloth over the faucet’s neck and turned to lean against the cabinet. Luo Yang was standing in the entryway changing his shoes; as he bent over to tie his laces, his bangs fell over his eyes.
“Where are you planning to buy it?” Yan Ya asked.
“There’s a shop I usually go to in the First Commercial District.” Luo Yang stepped into his shoes and tapped his toes twice against the entryway tile. “I’ll have to take a bus and then walk for a bit.”
Yan Ya gave a hum of acknowledgment and walked out of the kitchen, still holding her teacup refilled with hot water.
She leaned against the wall between the living room and the entryway, watching Luo Yang bend down to find shoes for Yan Zhi.
A pair of small canvas shoes sat on the bottom shelf of the shoe rack. There was a gray smudge on the white surface, left over from that day at the industrial park.
Yan Zhi put on the shoes herself, shoving her heels in after a couple of tries. She squatted down to tie the laces, holding both ends and gesturing for a long time, but her movements stalled at the very first loop.
Luo Yang knelt down to help her, his fingers wrapping the laces twice to pull them into a tight butterfly knot.
“Let’s go.”
He paused for a second as he stood up, his brow slightly furrowed and his lips moving as if he were mentally calculating which direction to turn for the nearest electronics store.
Yan Ya watched his distracted expression, holding her teacup to her lips without drinking. Her gaze moved from Luo Yang’s furrowed brow to Yan Zhi, who was obediently clutching the hem of his shirt, then back again. A faint, subtle smile played at the corners of her mouth.
“Hurry back,” she said.
“I know,” Luo Yang said as he opened the door.
The evening breeze rushed in, carrying the scent of damp soil from the neighborhood’s freshly watered greenery. Yan Zhi followed him out, her canvas shoes stepping onto the welcome mat with a soft crunch of the fine sand trapped within.
Yan Ya walked to the door and rested her hand on the frame, watching the two of them slowly walk away along the neighborhood’s concrete path.
The tea grew cold.
She withdrew her gaze and closed the door.
The night breeze was even cooler than before.
Yan Zhi stayed to his right as usual, one hand gripping his shirt while the other hung free. As she walked, she occasionally looked down at the tips of her shoes.
“The nearest shop is past the bus stop,” Luo Yang said, though he seemed to be talking to himself. “It’s about seven or eight stops away, and then a bit of a walk after we get off.”
“Are we taking a bus?”
“Mhm.”
Luo Yang slowed his pace, one hand in his pants pocket while the other went up to push his glasses. “There’s no rush anyway. What time do the shops close... it should still be early. We’ll head to the bus stop first; consider it a little walk.”
Yan Zhi slowed down with him. Camphor trees lined both sides of the concrete path, and cicadas chirped from the branches, their long cries rising and falling. In the distance, a cricket answered from the grass.
As they reached the neighborhood entrance, the old man in the security booth was sipping tea from an enamel mug. Seeing Luo Yang, he poked half his head out of the window.
His name was Uncle Zhou, and he had worked in this neighborhood for nearly eight years. He knew the face of every resident, and he especially knew Luo Yang.
After all, this young man often came home in the middle of the night, sometimes covered in blood. For a long time, the old man had suspected he was involved with the underworld, only relaxing once he happened to see Luo Yang’s Ability Bureau ID left in the guardhouse one day.
“Xiao Luo, out so late?”
“Just buying something.” Luo Yang stopped briefly at the window. “My phone broke; I need a new one.”
Uncle Zhou took a sip of tea. With the lid of his enamel mug half-open, he blew the tea leaves away from the surface and tilted his chin up. “Things were quite noisy last night. I heard there was fighting in South City for half the night. Were you there?”
“I was.”
“Oh, that’s dangerous. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, just a few scrapes.”
Uncle Zhou’s gaze moved past his shoulder to the little girl clutching his shirt behind him.
Yan Zhi peeked out from beside Luo Yang’s arm, her face looking clean and fair under the streetlights. Her unusually dark eyes blinked once.
“Whose child is this?” Uncle Zhou asked.
“A relative’s,” Luo Yang said, casually ruffling the hair on top of Yan Zhi’s head. “She’s staying with me for a bit.” He ruffled it again. “Say hello to Grandpa.”
“Hello, Grandpa,” Yan Zhi said obediently.
“Ah, hello, hello.” Uncle Zhou’s face wrinkled into a wide smile. He rummaged around inside the booth and found two fruit candies, which he handed out through the window. “Here, have some.”
Yan Zhi looked up at Luo Yang. Only after he gave a small nod did she reach out to take them. In her open palm lay two candies—one orange and one green—their wrappers shimmering under the streetlights.
“Say thank you.”
“Thank you, Grandpa.”
The two continued forward, exiting the neighborhood gates and turning onto the sidewalk. The tree trunks lining the road were painted halfway up with white lime, and the light from the streetlamps spilled across the sidewalk tiles in large patches.
Yan Zhi peeled one candy and popped it into her mouth, her cheek bulging slightly. She folded the wrapper twice and tucked it into Luo Yang’s hoodie pocket.
“Is it good?” Luo Yang asked.
“Mhm, orange flavor,” Yan Zhi said, her voice a bit muffled by the candy. “It tastes different from the one I had at home earlier.”
“The one earlier was tangerine; this one is orange.”
“Aren’t tangerines the same as oranges?”
“Of course not.”
Yan Zhi gave an “Oh” and didn’t ask further. A small convenience store was still open nearby, its outdoor freezer covered with a half-folded quilt weighed down by two large jugs of mineral water. Only half of the LED sign was lit, leaving the word “Drinks” flashing alone.
The owner, a middle-aged woman, was sitting on a plastic stool by the door scrolling through her phone. Short video background music blared from the speakers, the melody drifting in and out with the night wind.
A few steps further, they ran into someone coming the other way. The man was wearing flip-flops and large boxer shorts, carrying two bags of trash. He raised a hand in greeting when he saw Luo Yang.
“Oh, if it isn’t Luo Yang. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you out for a stroll.”
Luo Yang recognized him. This man’s surname was Liu, though he didn’t remember his full name. He lived in the building diagonally opposite Luo Yang’s and apparently ran a construction materials business in Yuanxing City. Last year, when a pipe burst in the man’s home and he called for help in the neighborhood group chat, Luo Yang happened to be home and helped him turn off the main valve. That was how they met.
“Mr. Liu, out to take out the trash?”
“Don’t even mention it; I forgot this afternoon.” Mr. Liu shifted the trash bags to his other hand, his gaze landing on Yan Zhi. “Is this your... sister? Or niece?”
“A relative’s,” Luo Yang used the same explanation. “Staying for a few days.”
“Oh, I see.” Mr. Liu nodded without asking further, then suddenly remembered something and lowered his voice. “By the way, did you hear? Another new family moved in nearby. They came the day before yesterday, into that detached house at the end of the row in front of ours—the one that’s been empty for ages.”
Luo Yang glanced in the direction Mr. Liu pointed. The villa was hidden in the shadows of the trees by the neighborhood wall. A light was on in a second-floor window, but the curtains were drawn tight, making it impossible to see inside.
“I hadn’t heard.” He pulled his gaze back. “New people come and go here all the time. One more family isn’t exactly news.”
“True enough.”
Mr. Liu shrugged. “But they moved in quite a hurry. I didn’t see much furniture being brought in—just two small vans and a few boxes. They finished the whole thing in one afternoon. My wife said they didn’t even call a moving company; just three or four people moving things themselves. It’s rare to see people moving house by themselves these days.”
“To each their own.” Luo Yang let out a yawn. “Let’s go, A-Zhi, the shops will close if we dawdle. See you around, Mr. Liu.”
“You’re right. I’ve got things to do anyway. See you.”
The bus stop was just a hundred meters or so past the corner from the neighborhood entrance. The sign was new, its solar-powered light box glowing as the advertising space cycled through various videos.
Only one elderly woman was waiting on the platform, holding a deep blue cloth bag with a stalk of celery leaves sticking out of the top. She glanced at Luo Yang, then at Yan Zhi, and moved half a step to the side to make room for them.
The bus arrived quickly. There were few people inside. Luo Yang led Yan Zhi in and swiped his card before finding a window seat in the back row.
Yan Zhi sat down beside him. As the bus started, the scenery outside flowed slowly by. The streetlights dragged orange-yellow streaks of light across the window, separated by patches of deep night. She turned sideways to look out, her nose almost touching the glass, and eventually let out a small yawn.
They were on the bus for less than twenty minutes. By the time they got off, the only people left in the cabin were the two of them and a middle-aged man clutching a briefcase while dozing off.
Rate on N.U.
