Chapter 31

Chapter 31

That evening, back home, Fang Bingxue lay on the sofa, medicine patches on his arm, staring at the ceiling.

He lay there for a long time, the towel on his forearm growing cold, yet he didn't stir to change it. His mind felt dull, a little downcast. Fang Bingxue detested this muddled sensation, but tonight, he allowed himself a rare indulgence, not forcing an immediate emotional detachment.

This feeling was unfamiliar to him.

His phone buzzed nearby, but Fang Bingxue remained still, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Due to his work, he rarely turned off or silenced his phone, keeping the volume high. The sudden ring in the quiet room was jarring.

After a while, Fang Bingxue sat up, tossed the towel into a basin, and switched on the TV with the remote.

He flipped to a random channel, finally bringing some sound into the room.

After hanging the towel to dry and quickly washing up, he finally checked his phone. He squinted at the bright screen; it was just a promotional text from his carrier about a messaging plan.

He deleted it without a second thought.

By the time Fang Bingxue was in bed, ready to sleep, his phone rang again.

He flicked on the bedside lamp. "Hello?"

It was Lao Yan, the call brief and hurried.

Half a minute later, Fang Bingxue leaped out of bed, pulled on his shoes, grabbed his jacket, and rushed into the vast night.

Tonight, the moon was a thin, incomplete crescent.

Zhou Xu couldn’t sleep.

Something had taken root inside him, sprouting and branching, its roots aggressively expanding through his veins, showing a defiant resolve to stay put.

Realizing this, Zhou Xu pressed a hand to his chest.

He loved it.

Early the next morning, the mechanics at the shop noticed, exchanging knowing glances before approaching Zhou Xu. "Bro Xu, you’re in a good mood today?"

"Yeah," Zhou Xu nodded. "Not bad."

He and his friends owned several businesses, but the auto repair shop was his most frequent haunt. Zhou Xu had spent years working with cars; the mingled scents of oil and rust were like a key that, the moment the rolling shutter door lifted, clicked into place, settling his restlessness.

In the past, he’d driven semi-trucks for a while, hauling freight across the highways of five northwestern provinces. The dashboard would vibrate, and when Zhou Xu occasionally glanced out the window, the poplars would recede into black dots in the rearview mirror.

Now, Zhou Xu no longer had to contort himself under car chassis propped up by jacks, letting leaking transmission fluid drip onto his shoulders. The repair shop had over twenty mechanics and apprentices; he didn't need to personally handle painting or welding. But right now, Zhou Xu just wanted to do something—preferably something that would exhaust him completely.

It wasn’t until midday that he finally tossed the wrench aside with a clang and let out a long sigh.

Ding Yong had been waiting for him outside, sitting in the shade but still tugging at his collar from the heat. "I can’t take this—are you possessed or something?"

He’d been waiting for two hours, but Zhou Xu had been working like a madman at the repair shop, his arm muscles bulging with each movement, sweat glistening on his tanned skin. Though it was manual labor, Ding Yong could tell—the guy was in his element.

"Alright," Zhou Xu pulled off his gloves and went to wash his face under the faucet. "What’s up?"

Ding Yong, still tugging at his collar—his bulk left him gasping in the heat—said, "Nothing major. Just wanted to discuss something. A friend’s recently gotten into the jade trade, dealing with raw stones. Says if we pay a crossing fee to the local armed groups, we can ship goods from Myanmar—"

"No," Zhou Xu wrung out the towel. "That’s smuggling."

Ding Yong froze, stopping mid-motion. "Seriously?"

"You actually believe in this kind of get-rich-quick scheme?" Zhou Xu threw the towel into the water and turned around, his arms still wet. "If you even try it, I’ll be the first to report you."

After saying that, he put his gloves back on—wearing sturdy work gloves was completely normal, even in the heat. Ding Yong didn’t pay it much mind, instead chewing on Zhou Xu’s words.

The two of them had a solid friendship, with no pretense. If something was up, they’d say it outright. Zhou Xu didn’t have much of an accent—he’d traveled widely and seen a lot. Ding Yong often came to him for advice when unsure about things. Now that he understood, he cursed, "Fuck, trying to scam me out of my money... I knew that guy looked shifty as hell, like a total sleazeball. Pah!"

With no outsiders around, Ding Yong sat in a corner of the auto repair shop’s backyard. A couple of years ago, Zhou Xu had kept a dog here, building it a kennel under a sheet of sun-faded tin for shade.

After ranting for a while, Ding Yong finally vented his anger, sighing about how much simpler puti beads were—no messy complications. Then he called out to Zhou Xu, "What’s really going on with you these past couple of days?"

Zhou Xu replied, "Nothing. Don’t overthink it."

Ding Yong wasn’t having it. "You keeping secrets from me now?"

It wasn’t that Zhou Xu was deliberately hiding anything—it was just that their group of friends tended to joke around a lot, and he didn’t want any careless words reaching Fang Bingxue’s ears, making things awkward. Once he’d truly set his mind on something, he kept it locked tight, never bringing it up.

Not only that, but he also brushed Ding Yong off. "If there’s nothing else, get going. Go check on the billiards joint."

"Golden Sunshine" had gone under, and they’d seized the opportunity to acquire some of its stock, planning to draw in its former customers. Zhou Xu rarely kept an eye on the place himself, so he pushed Ding Yong to handle it.

Ding Yong grumbled, "I see how it is. Your ass is already checked out, wild and flying away!"

Zhou Xu chuckled quietly, ignoring the jab, only saying he’d treat Ding Yong to drinks next time.

By the time Ding Yong got into the car, he was still grumbling as he snapped his seatbelt on, shooting Zhou Xu a sidelong glance through the window crack. "Just give me one straight answer—is there something going on?"

Zhou Xu stood with his hands in his pockets, a mischievous grin on his face.

It made Ding Yong laugh too.

"Fine," Ding Yong finally relented, getting serious. "You’ve had it rough these years... If you need any help, just say the word. I’ll be waiting to drink at your wedding."

Zhou Xu said, "Deal."

By the afternoon, Zhou Xu had gone home, showered, and spruced himself up properly—even applying a bit of scent. He was usually a slob, often forgetting such things, but today he’d made a detour to a convenience store on his way back, stocking up on snacks.

Zhou Xu had a simple philosophy when it came to courting someone: give flowers, spend money, and always carry some food in case Fang Bingxue got hungry. As he rubbed his face, he thought about Fang Bingxue—wondering if he’d eaten, if he was hungry or tired, if there was anything Zhou Xu could do to help. His thoughts wandered until a strange idea suddenly popped into his head.

How had Fang Bingxue’s previous... relationship started?

No, Zhou Xu couldn’t let himself dwell on that.

He tensed his expression, flexed his arms, and felt an itch in his hands.

When the itch came, he glanced down at his right hand—the bite mark still clearly visible on his web of skin between thumb and forefinger.

After holding back for a long time, he finally sent Fang Bingxue a text, typing and deleting repeatedly before settling on just three words: "You busy?"

After a moment’s thought, he added a smiley face: "You busy? :)"

An old friend had once advised him that when pursuing someone, conversations should be fun—use cute expressions, don’t come off too harsh.

Zhou Xu thought the smiley face was charming as hell.

Fang Bingxue saw the message just as he got into his car. After two sleepless nights, aside from some numbness in his fingers, he was wide awake and calm.

He checked the time: 4:30 a.m.

Zhou Xu’s text had been sent twelve hours earlier.

Two nights ago, he received a sudden notification—a homicide case had occurred in the provincial capital, with a method highly consistent with two other unsolved cold cases locally. The higher-ups demanded an urgent case merger. At the same time, the suspect's trail was discovered, likely moving along small highway motels near Lichuan County, requiring immediate investigation.

Xiao Li and others rushed to the provincial capital with case files to compare photos and evidence, while the remaining police force, as instructed, locked down the relevant road sections. The police chief led the team in conducting an intense search.

With limited technical resources, the target motels mostly used paper registration logs, filled with numerous entries by others and unreadable handwriting. Management loopholes were as plentiful as holes in a sieve. Fortunately, after round-the-clock work, they finally pinpointed the suspect's whereabouts.

...Fang Bingxue rubbed his eyes.

When it came to work, his professionalism and composure were ingrained—not innate talent, but muscle memory honed through countless trials. There was a bottle of mineral water in the passenger seat. Fang Bingxue picked it up, unscrewed the cap, and drank slowly.

He had driven over, first dropping off Ma Rui and two other officers at their homes. Everyone was exhausted, yawning nonstop, but their spirits were high, eyes bloodshot with excitement, saying they’d finally caught the bastard.

When only Fang Bingxue remained in the car, he got out and splashed water on his face with the leftover water. It was already the last day of May, and dawn came early. Leaning against the car door, Fang Bingxue squinted at the sunrise.

All the books he’d read over the years were useless now. His mind felt slightly sluggish, as if filled with the sands of the Hexi Corridor, and only one memorized line of poetry surfaced:

*"A lone smoke rises straight in the vast desert, the long river swallows the setting sun."* [Tang Dynasty poet Wang Wei]

Back then, the ancient verse had left no impression, but now it unfolded before him with striking grandeur. No adjectives, no fitting rhetoric—even though the poem described a sunset while Fang Bingxue was watching a sunrise, it felt just right.

The red sun rose, silent and solemn.

Fang Bingxue took out his phone and texted Zhou Xu: "Going to grab breakfast."

Replying after so long was kind of rude. Someone more sensitive might wonder if he was being deliberately aloof or giving me the cold shoulder. But Fang Bingxue was too tired to care. He just wanted a hot meal and sleep, too exhausted to even shower.

A few seconds later, his phone buzzed.

Zhou Xu replied quickly: "Me too. Wanna join?"

It wasn’t even six yet. The small northwestern city was still asleep, with only a few sparrows hopping on tree branches, peeking at the steam rising from breakfast stalls. Fang Bingxue was genuinely dead tired, typing slowly. Before he could send a refusal, Zhou Xu’s second and third messages arrived.

"What do you want? Beef noodles, oil tea, or mashed potato cakes?"

"Tell me, I’ll go buy it."

A fourth followed: "Or egg pancakes—I can make them."

Though not stated outright, Zhou Xu’s intention was obvious—he was making a move on Fang Bingxue.

Fang Bingxue paused before replying: "It’s fine, I’ll grab something myself."

Truthfully, he really wanted those egg pancakes. But things were awkward between them. Plus, after pulling two all-nighters, Fang Bingxue knew he must look terrible.

This time, Zhou Xu replied slower: "Alright, eat up then."

Fang Bingxue said: "Yeah."

After a while, Zhou Xu sent another message, similar to the last, but Fang Bingxue fell silent, not getting Zhou Xu’s meaning. If he had to describe it, it felt inexplicable, almost sarcastic.

Because this time, Zhou Xu added a symbol—

"Okay, take your time eating :)"

Author's note:

Bro Xu: What a tease!