GT - 1

Dusk was almost closing its eyes, night lay hidden in the dark.

The violent summer was gasping its last breath, lingering in early autumn. A suffocating heat clung to all living things, and even the roads seemed restless.

The bus screeched to a halt at a busy downtown bus stop. Cheng Mi got off, pulling her suitcase.

This bus had come from the airport. A swarm of motorcycle touts rushed forward, dozens of voices swirling amidst the roar of passing traffic, disorienting the disembarking passengers.

Cheng Mi found her way through the chaotic crowd and stood by the roadside.

If it weren’t for her phone vibrating in her trench coat pocket, she might have just hailed a cab and left.

But where to go?

She didn’t know where to go either.

Cheng Mi didn’t need to look to know who was calling. She answered and put the phone to her ear. It was indeed Li Yehong: “Have you arrived in Fengxun?”

“Yes.”

The nearby residential buildings, having weathered the bustling city for over a decade, were not without their scars. Their walls were mottled with gray, collapsing power lines tangled into tree rings, and the strong scent of life clung to the air, unable to be dispersed.

The wind blew her long, curly hair across her face. Cheng Mi raised a hand to push her hair back from her forehead, a few loose strands catching on the tip of her upturned nose.

Unexpectedly, her fingertips didn’t slide smoothly all the way down, getting stuck halfway, pulling painfully at her ear.

Cheng Mi glanced over. The wind had mischievously tangled her hair around her earring. She casually tilted her head to untangle it.

Li Yehong spoke on the other end: “Your Auntie Huiru was planning to pick you up today, but something came up unexpectedly, and she couldn’t get away. I’ll send her address to your phone later. Be careful and take a taxi there yourself.”

“Mm.”

“Your Auntie Huiru asked me for your number.”

“Okay.”

Compared to Cheng Mi’s unenthusiastic and monosyllabic replies, Li Yehong was unusually talkative: “You two will have to make do living there for now. Once I’m done with things abroad, I’ll go back and get married to your Auntie Huiru, and then we’ll find a better place and move you all.”

Li Yehong, 45 this year, had found someone to share his life with.

Originally, Li Yehong’s marriage or move had nothing to do with Cheng Mi until the year her mother passed away.

Cheng Mi was brought back by Li Yehong the year her mother died.

Li Yehong was not Cheng Mi’s father, but rather the father of her childhood friend, Li Chu. When her mother passed away, there was no reason for Li Yehong, who was neither a relative nor an acquaintance, to take in a burden like her. However, because she and Li Chu were childhood sweethearts, and their deceased mothers were deeply devoted friends, she, being underage and without other relatives, was naturally taken into the Li family.

Although she wasn’t Li Yehong’s daughter, Li Yehong was still half her guardian.

Only Cheng Mi came this time; Li Chu was studying at a university out of town and did not come along.

“Remember to report to school on time tomorrow. Also, get along well with Auntie Huiru and your little brother.”

Her hair, usually so easy to untangle, seemed to be stubbornly fighting with her large round earring today. Cheng Mi simply gave up, glancing around to find someone.

About a meter away, a person with red hair was squatting. He had already polluted her with half a cigarette. He looked at her before she looked at him.

Among all the ordinary people, the most striking one never needed to flirt with their gaze; people’s eyes would flock to them. This boy was one of those who flocked.

The red-haired boy visibly froze when he saw Cheng Mi’s face.

Smoke rings brewed in the twilight; she was the wine brewed within them.

A wine that people couldn’t get close to when sober, and when drunk and disoriented, they ended up knowing nothing about her.

Mysterious, distant.

But Cheng Mi was not as cold as the boy thought. Unexpectedly, she was as gentle as a girl borrowing a pen in class. She gestured to the cigarette in his hand and curved her lips: “Lend me a light.”

As her words fell, Li Yehong’s warning also entered her ear, carrying the authority of an elder: “Cheng Mi.”

Cheng Mi could imagine him frowning, but she had no intention of explaining. She took the cigarette offered by the red-haired boy, and the tip of the cigarette directly singed off the tangled hair on her earring.

The red-haired boy stared, dumbfounded.

Cheng Mi handed the cigarette back and gave him a gentle smile: “Thanks.”

At the same time, her call with Li Yehong came to an end. He had clearly called her during a break in his meeting, and since the meeting was resuming, he didn’t give any further instructions.

After hanging up, Cheng Mi noticed an unfamiliar missed call from two minutes ago. Just as she was about to ignore it and put her phone back in her pocket, the unfamiliar number called again.

Cheng Mi probably knew who it was and didn’t want to be impolite, so she answered: “Hello.”

The person on the other end probably didn’t expect her to answer so quickly, and their words were clearly stuck, as if their carefully prepared speech had been disrupted: “Hello.”

Then, they immediately asked, “Is this Cheng Mi?”

Cheng Mi’s gaze fell on a woman collecting clothes behind the security bars on the second floor across the street. She vaguely remembered the woman on the phone being this type of virtuous wife and loving mother: “It’s me.”

The woman’s reply was gentle, but it couldn’t cover the chaotic noise on her end, nor could it hide the anxious flattery in her words: “I’m Auntie Huiru. I originally planned to pick you up this afternoon, but something suddenly came up, and I was so busy I couldn’t make it.”

She probably thought Cheng Mi was a difficult teenage girl.

Cheng Mi said: “It’s fine.”

The other side clearly breathed a sigh of relief and then asked, “Where are you now? Have you arrived?”

“I’m here.”

“Then hurry home,” the other party seemed afraid of neglecting her, “Auntie will send you the address via text message. I left the key for you when I went out this afternoon, it’s on the fire hydrant by the door.”

“I have the address.”

“You have it? Good, good,” she continued, “Then hurry home. All the fruits on the table are for you to eat.”

Cheng Mi lowered her eyes slightly, her fingers playing with her earring, then her lips curved into a gentle smile, her attitude could be described as excellent: “Okay.”

After a few more stiff back-and-forth questions and answers, the call finally ended. After hanging up, Cheng Mi realized the red-haired boy hadn’t left yet.

The red-haired boy had transitioned from squatting to standing and very naturally pointed to her suitcase: “You’re going home, right? Which area do you live in?”

It was obvious he was experienced in approaching girls; his flirting skills were perfected.

Someone who just arrived wouldn’t know where they lived, but for a boy like him, wherever she named, it would be “on his way.”

“This area,” Cheng Mi said.

As expected, the red-haired boy said, “What a coincidence, I live around here too. I’ll walk you back then?”

The red-haired boy originally thought she would be difficult to deal with, but then he saw her smile at him again, agreeing readily: “Sure.”

He was delighted and said, “Let’s go,” and was about to pick up her suitcase when he was interrupted: “But I’m not going home. Are you still on your way?”

The red-haired boy looked puzzled: “Didn’t you just say on the phone you were going home?”

These words made Cheng Mi think of something. She smiled faintly, her gaze falling on the road, saying nothing.

Seeing her not reply, the red-haired boy didn’t dwell on the previous question: “But you’re carrying such a big suitcase, where are you going?”

Cheng Mi stopped him with a question: “Do bars have rules about not bringing suitcases?”

The red-haired boy paused, then thought: “No, they don’t.”

Then he became even more excited: “Why didn’t you say you wanted to go to a bar earlier? A buddy of mine runs a bar, and it’s about to open now. If you go, I’ll tell him to give you half price. How about it, wanna go? He’s got a bunch of fun stuff there.”

Cheng Mi believed him that his friend ran a bar. She tossed the earring with her tangled hair into a trash can: “Lead the way then.”

________________________________________

A bar is a city that never sleeps with song and dance.

People endure their sober days, their plastered smiles shattered, their feverish souls revealing their true forms.

Electronic music roared and surged in her eardrums, laser lights flashed, burning her eyelids. But amidst this loud commotion, Cheng Mi still noticed the buzzing vibration of her phone, a sound like a mosquito, just like the caller.

She looked at the unfamiliar number, still without a contact name, picked up her phone, and left the booth.

Walking outside, the streetlights, swarming with insects, seemed desolate compared to the noise inside. As soon as Cheng Mi answered, a slightly anxious voice came through.

“Cheng Mi, have you not come home yet?”

Only now did Cheng Mi have time to think about how to answer the question of not being home yet. Her response formed effortlessly, without any urgency or panic: “Mm, I just got here and it’s unfamiliar, so I’m walking around nearby. After all, I’ll be living here from now on.”

“Good, good to walk around, get familiar with the environment,” the other party echoed repeatedly.

There was a moment of silence again.

Then the other party found a new topic: “There’s a KTV in Chengnan. I’ve seen my colleagues’ children usually like to go there on weekends. You can also go check it out if you’re free. You young people should like it.”

Probably assuming that a child her age would only go out to sing and eat, Cheng Mi hummed: “Okay.”

“On the way back from the hospital, I bought a few stir-fried dishes. Your uncle said you like spicy food, so I bought all your favorites. Auntie is really sorry for not hosting you well today. I originally wanted to cook you a hearty dinner at home, but I was busy until now. It’s too late to cook now, and I was afraid you’d be hungry, so I bought some food outside tonight. Tomorrow, Auntie will cook you a nice meal.”

Cheng Mi caught the word “hospital” but didn’t ask further.

“No need to trouble yourself. I can just eat at school tomorrow,” she took her phone away to check the time, then put it back to her ear. “Also, I’ve already eaten out. Don’t wait for me. It’s already this late; you should eat quickly yourself.”

“You’ve eaten out?”

Cheng Mi tapped her finger on her phone: “Mm.”

She added: “And you don’t need to wait for me to come back tonight. I think there are quite a few fun things to do lately. I’ll come back later.”

The other party was naturally gentle and had no objections to this. In the end, she only exhorted: “Then remember to come back early tonight. You still have to report to school tomorrow.”

Cheng Mi agreed. This call was considered dealt with.

When she returned to the bar, she saw some new faces at the booth, noisily playing a game.

A girl seemed to have lost a game and was being egged on to kiss a boy. The girl was unwilling and said she’d rather drink.

Before Cheng Mi even got close, she heard the boy loudly exclaim: “Still despising me? You girls only look at faces. Isn’t he just a pretty boy? He’s not as solid as I am.”

The girl sitting opposite him chugged a glass of alcohol, wincing as it burned: “That’s called greasy, not solid. How disgusting.”

“He’s just a damn sickly fellow. Do you believe I could develop these muscles in my body that he wouldn’t be able to achieve in his entire life?”

“Who are you talking about?!” The girl was annoyed.

“Who else? It’s just that kid from second year of high school you guys keep talking about, Si—”

Someone interrupted: “Alright, alright, stop talking. Li Zhiyue is here. If you keep talking, you’re all doomed.”

Cheng Mi was happily listening to the commotion, but was interrupted by the newcomer. She looked up.

A boy walked towards them, tall with long legs, thick eyebrows, deep-set eyes, and features so striking they immediately brought to mind an ID photo. No one knew his background, but those who were loudly arguing earlier were now silent.

At the same time, the red-haired boy in the booth spotted Cheng Mi and waved to her: “Where did you go? Couldn’t find you for ages.”

This commotion drew the attention of others, including Li Zhiyue, who turned his head. A guy then went to interrogate the red-haired boy.

Cheng Mi had just sat down on the sofa when she heard the red-haired boy say: “She’s right here. Why are you asking me for her phone number? Find it yourself! I don’t even have her number.”

Cheng Mi pretended not to hear and spoke very casually: “What game are you playing?”

The topic was thus lightly steered away by her. When the game was mentioned, the girl who had just chugged a drink was still unhappy from her suffering. Hearing Cheng Mi ask, her cannon aimed at the boys, and she rolled her eyes: “We’re playing ‘Big Lie’. I don’t know who came up with this awful game. You absolutely must not play with them. If you lose, you have to draw cards, and the cards are full of their prank stuff. They’ll just gang up and trick you. I just got tricked when I was the blind one.”

The boys burst into laughter.

Cheng Mi had played the game “Big Lie” before. Simply put, the “blind” person designates an unlucky person. The blindfolded person’s eyes are covered, and others continuously point to people, asking if they can stop. When “stop” is called, the person being pointed at is the one chosen by the blind person. The blind person then has to guess who the chosen person is and draw a card for them to complete a task. Of course, the chosen person could also be the blind person themselves.

The girl earlier was tricked this way; she was the blind one, and the boys pointed at her the whole time, so the card task she drew had to be completed by herself.

Cheng Mi was careful, and when playing games later, she stayed out of it, not getting involved in the chaotic waters.

But bad luck strikes at any time. Cheng Mi was chosen by Li Zhiyue’s card task. As the person chosen by the blind one, Li Zhiyue’s card task was to date the prettiest girl present.

There was no need to look elsewhere; the person was right there in the booth.

Li Zhiyue didn’t choose to drink. He waited for Cheng Mi’s response. If she agreed, they would date; if not, he could always drink later.

After briefly understanding the situation, Cheng Mi learned what kind of person Li Zhiyue was: someone virtually no one at school dared to provoke.

Cheng Mi had learned her lesson before; as a newcomer, it wouldn’t hurt to cling to a powerful figure.

So, she picked up a boyfriend just like that.

________________________________________

Young and spirited, the group didn’t disperse until the early hours of the morning.

It was only after Cheng Mi got into the taxi that she finally properly looked at the address Li Yehong had sent her phone. Alcohol lowered her psychological defenses, and she drowsily slumped in the backseat, streetlights flashing past her face, intermittently illuminating it.

It wasn’t until she got out of the car that Cheng Mi realized this was the same place she had gotten off the bus that afternoon: the busy street, the old residential buildings, the bus stop. No wonder Li Yehong said she’d have to make do living here for a while.

Cheng Mi dragged her suitcase up to the third floor and stopped in front of door number 5. She found a key on the fire hydrant on the wall.

The key slid into the lock. In the long, dim hallway of the early morning, the metallic clink was exceptionally cold. With a click, the door opened.

Though Cheng Mi’s steps weren’t exactly unsteady, her thoughts were hazy with alcohol. As she pushed the door open, her shoulder leaned against the doorframe.

The crack in the door slowly widened, and a faint halo of light from a room inside spilled into the living room.

Someone was in the living room.

Cheng Mi’s hand paused.

The dim light divided the space into two: light and dark. At the boundary, a slender figure sat in a wheelchair, the back of his hand on the armrest tensed, veins protruding. His brows were tightly furrowed, as if enduring intense pain.

Cheng Mi inevitably saw a white medicine bottle on the table, with a few white pills around it, dampened by water stains from a glass.

Light cut shadows, casting them onto the boy’s pale skin. Beneath his disheveled hair, his eyes were unfathomably deep.

Cheng Mi suddenly remembered what Li Yehong had told her on the phone that afternoon: to get along well with her little brother.

She looked at him. He seemed to sense her presence, his eyelids subtly trembling as he lifted his gaze.

His eyes were very beautiful, but this attractive beauty didn’t lessen the sense of distance by even a fraction. His dark pupils were calm, and his gaze was sharp.

Cheng Mi leaned against the doorframe, her eyes slightly hazy with drink, her earring, dangling from only one side, still swaying.

The world seemed to shrink to only the slightly rising and falling chest in the wheelchair not far away. The surrounding air tightened with every breath, and the seconds stretched infinitely.

He looked at her.

Cheng Mi’s consciousness was boiling with alcohol, half sober, the other half a drunken haze that became a hook sinking into her eyes as she met his gaze.