Chapter 32

Chapter 32

BOOM—

Fireworks exploded on the screen for a new high score. Chu Heng exited the mini-game and looked out the car window. The sun was beginning to set in the west, gilding the distant mountain peaks. Massed clouds pressed down on the ridges, slowly drifting westward. The sky was streaked with birds, transforming into elegant black silhouettes against the horizon.

Choosing a place like this for retirement—now that's knowing how to enjoy life.

Just as Chu Heng finished this thought, he saw Chen Jinsheng emerge from the iron gate, holding a document folder. He put down his phone, started the car, and pulled up beside Chen Jinsheng, leaning over to open the passenger door.

"Finished talking?"

Chen Jinsheng got in and hummed in response.

"How's your dad's health?" The seatbelt warning light on the dashboard blinked incessantly, accompanied by an annoying beep. Chu Heng turned the steering wheel, glanced in the rearview mirror, and reminded him, "Seatbelt."

Chen Jinsheng seemed distracted, his left hand clutching the folder, its contents a mystery. Chu Heng glanced at him several times before finally, with a sigh of resignation, stopping the car and leaning over to fasten the seatbelt for him.

The moment the buckle clicked into place, Chen Jinsheng wrapped him in a tight hug.

Chu Heng was stunned for a second. "What's wrong?"

Chen Jinsheng didn't speak, his hot breath washing over Chu Heng's neck.

Stuck in an awkward angle, Chu Heng hesitantly patted Chen Jinsheng's shoulder. "Did your dad yell at you? Give you a hard time? Didn't Chen Jiasheng speak up for you?"

"What did he say to you?" Chen Jinsheng's muffled voice came after more than ten seconds.

"Him? You mean Chen Jiasheng? Nothing much. Just thanked me for bringing you over. It was kind of strange." Chu Heng changed from patting to pushing. "Let go first, my back is sore."

Chen Jinsheng slowly released his hold. Chu Heng sat back in his seat, figuring he was just in a bad mood after seeing his father. He kept quiet, giving Chen Jinsheng space to calm down, then refastened his own seatbelt and started the car.

He didn't head straight home. Instead, he took Chen Jinsheng to the hospital for an IV drip and a bandage change. By the time they got home, it was nearly nine. They whipped up some noodles to fill their stomachs, then washed up and went to bed.

Having driven for hours, sleepiness washed over Chu Heng the moment his head touched the pillow. Just as he was drifting off, Chen Jinsheng, fresh from the shower and still damp, leaned over and embraced him. Chu Heng groggily opened his eyes, instinctively glancing at Chen Jinsheng's hand, spotting a section of damp plastic wrap. He was about to tell Chen Jinsheng to remove the wrapped plastic bag when his mouth was kissed.

Perhaps because he had just brushed his teeth, Chen Jinsheng's lips were wet and soft, carrying a clean, minty scent. The sensation startled Chu Heng more awake, dispelling most of his sleepiness. He raised a hand to push him away. "Not now. Wait until your injury is healed."

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head. Chen Jinsheng straightened up, looked at Chu Heng for a moment, his gaze gradually turning cold, then wordlessly walked away.

Chu Heng was confused. What was that about?

A moment later, the sound of a hairdryer came from the bathroom.

Oh, drying his hair.

Chu Heng felt relieved, clicked off the room lights, leaving only the bedside lamp on the other side. Amid the hum of the hairdryer, he gradually fell asleep. In that hazy state between sleep and wakefulness, the covers were pulled back, letting in a chill. He shifted uncomfortably.

The next moment, the bed beside him dipped slightly. The soft quilt was tucked back around him, and the last bit of light in the room was switched off. Chu Heng's furrowed brow smoothed out. After a while, an arm draped over his waist, and a warm chest pressed against his back. Half-asleep, Chu Heng fumbled blindly at his waist, his fingers brushing against a section of rough gauze. Too lazy to move further, he simply let his hand rest lower, atop the one lying across his waist, and drifted back to sleep.

For a while after that, Chu Heng wasn't particularly busy. He recorded a New Year's greeting video, occasionally walked red carpets or attended year-end events hosted by various investors, but spent most of his time at home. It wasn't until Chen Jinsheng's stitches were removed that Chu Heng said, "Pack your bags. We're going somewhere tomorrow."

Chen Jinsheng was folding clothes. He looked up at Chu Heng's phone, which displayed two already-purchased plane tickets.

...

The weather in G City wasn't great. A fine, almost invisible drizzle fell—the kind that made carrying an umbrella seem excessive but going without one annoying. The air was hazy, with only occasional gusts of wind that vanished as quickly as they came. This resulted in poor visibility on the mountain road.

The driver slowed the car to a crawl, squinting as he inched forward, afraid of accidentally skidding off the road.

"You two locals? Coming back to visit family?" the driver struck up a conversation.

Chu Heng slightly lifted the brim of his cap. "Yeah."

The driver seemed surprised. "Fewer and fewer people come back to Ji County these years. Practically no one goes to Zhenquan Village. Judging by your getup, you've made it in the big city, huh? What brings you back? Still have elders here?"

Chu Heng smiled. "No, just coming back to take a look."

"Ah, makes sense. They say a golden nest or a silver nest is not as good as your own earthen nest. After all, it's home." The driver misunderstood. "You two came back at the perfect time. The government built this road in recent years. In the past, no driver would take you there."

"Then how did people get to Zhenquan Village before?" Chen Jinsheng spoke up.

"By bus. One trip a day. A real hassle. Passengers had to bring plastic bags in case they got sick." The driver glanced at Chen Jinsheng in the rearview mirror. "You haven't been back in a long time, have you?"

Chen Jinsheng remained silent.

He had originally thought Chu Heng was attending some event and followed him onto the plane without question. It wasn't until they transferred from plane to train, then to a bus, that he realized something was off. Before, when Chu Heng traveled for work, even if they set off alone, Little Mei and Old Ding would always catch up shortly after arrival. But this time, after nearly a day on the road, there was still no sign of anyone else.

Finally, after getting off a bus at a particularly run-down passenger transport center and Chu Heng chartering a local car, Chen Jinsheng realized this trip was Chu Heng's personal trip.

He didn't know what Zhenquan Village was. Looking it up online, he learned it was an extremely remote mountain village, a key target for local government poverty alleviation efforts.

A guess began to form in Chen Jinsheng's mind, and an inexplicable tension started to build.

"Yeah, when I came back before, the bus only ran once every three days," Chu Heng said. "The fog's lifting."

The driver focused ahead. Indeed, the visibility on the road had improved significantly. He stopped making conversation and hit the gas.

He still wanted to make the return trip before dark.

Two hours later, the car stopped before a rusted metal village sign. Chu Heng paid the fare and asked for the driver's phone number. "In a few days, we'll need to trouble you to come pick us up."

The price Chu Heng offered was high, so the driver agreed immediately, then started the engine and sped off, leaving only exhaust fumes and tire tracks in his wake.

Zhenquan Village was surrounded by mountains on all sides. No matter which direction you looked, layer upon layer of peaks enclosed the village tightly. Only one road led out from the village entrance. About three kilometers out, the cement road turned into a gravel path. Sharp-edged, bluish-gray stones covered the entire road. In some places, stones had been kicked aside by passing wheels, revealing the muddy, wet yellow earth and murky puddles beneath.

"Let's go." Chu Heng took off his mask, stuffed it in his pocket, picked up his suitcase, and led the way into the village.

Chen Jinsheng averted his gaze, picked up the other suitcase, and followed behind Chu Heng.

The village was quiet. The paths were divided into irregular layouts by clusters of houses. The architectural styles here were old, reminiscent of the 1960s or 70s, and not uniform at all. Some were wooden plank houses, some earthen houses, some built from stone blocks, giving the whole village a disjointed, inharmonious appearance.

Chen Jinsheng followed Chu Heng through a maze of twists and turns. The narrow paths were tightly squeezed between houses on both sides, ending at walls covered in moss at either end. Looking up, only a narrow strip of gray, overcast sky was visible, as if veiled by a shadow.

The ground beneath their feet grew increasingly soft and sticky. Here, it had completely transformed into a natural mud path. Chen Jinsheng looked down; a thick layer of yellow mud already caked the soles of his boots, oozing over the edges.

Chen Jinsheng lifted his suitcase a bit higher to prevent it from getting coated in the sticky mud. Ahead, Chu Heng also held his suitcase well off the ground, the yellow mud on his shoes almost as thick as the soles.

But he didn't stop, showing no intention of dealing with the mess.

The narrow path soon reached its end. Chen Jinsheng realized it wasn't a dead end; the exit was just too narrow, easily overlooked. He mimicked Chu Heng, turning sideways to the right. After a few steps, he paused.

The path ahead opened up considerably, but to the left front lay crumbling ruins and broken walls. The doors and windows of the houses were gone, leaving only empty brick frames, hastily blocked with cardboard and plastic bags. Rainwater slid down the plastic onto the cardboard; some sheets were completely soaked, sagging limply against the gray-green bricks.

A pair of tentacles emerged from the gap between the wet cardboard and the wall. A few seconds later, a slug slowly crawled out.

Chen Jinsheng frowned and averted his gaze. The doorways and corners of the houses were overgrown with weeds, nearly knee-high. The roof tiles were mostly intact, with only a few broken pieces. Under the eaves, a bamboo chair was propped up, occupied by an old man.

The old man was emaciated and stooped. Loose, wrinkled skin sagged on his face, densely covered with age spots. His hair was sparse, gray, and white, messy eyebrows framing eyes that stared vacantly ahead. The old man sat perfectly still.

Chen Jinsheng shifted his gaze to the old man’s chest. Chu Heng’s voice came from ahead: “That’s one of the elderly left behind in the village. Pay him no mind.”

“He—” Chen Jinsheng paused. “Is he dying?”

“Not anytime soon.” Chu Heng seemed to chuckle. “They hold on until their children or grandchildren come back to visit, so there’s someone to bury them.”

The old man and the dilapidated house were left behind as the two walked on. Chen Jinsheng gathered his thoughts and focused on the path ahead.

“We’re here.”

Chen Jinsheng looked up.

The small courtyard before them was remarkably intact compared to the houses they had passed along the way. Two cracked wooden planks leaned crookedly against the entrance, a rusted chain threaded through round holes in the planks and fastened with a lock, keeping the two gate planks loosely shut.

On either side of the gate stood a stone stool, both covered in moss. Chu Heng set his suitcase on one of them, pulled a brass key from his pocket, and stepped forward to unlock the gate.

The lock was rusted, and Chu Heng jiggled the key for a while before finally pushing the gate open.

The planks wobbled, emitting a grating creak. It was a miracle they didn’t fall down completely.

The courtyard was small, only about three meters square, with earthen houses on the east, west, and north sides. Most of the thatch on the roofs had been blown away, exposing the wooden frames. In the center of the yard was a half-meter-wide well, and the remaining ground was haphazardly paved with stone slabs. Though weeds grew wildly between the cracks, with a little tidying up, it was at least more walkable than outside.

Chen Jinsheng had never been to a place like this. He stood at the entrance for a good while before stepping inside.

Chu Heng had already carried his suitcase into the east room and emerged empty-handed. “Put your things in there and take a rest,” he said.

The bed in the east room was also an earthen kang, a raised earthen bed. Against the wall on the kang stood a dusty cabinet, its edges covered by a clean newspaper. Chen Jinsheng guessed Chu Heng had just placed it there.

Chen Jinsheng sat on the newspaper and looked around the room. Aside from the kang, there was only an old-fashioned washstand—nothing much to see.

He took out his phone and found the signal was very weak. If not for the old man they had seen earlier, he might have thought this was an abandoned village.

He heard a rustling overhead. Chen Jinsheng looked up and saw a large, thick plastic sheet in red and blue covering the roof, blocking the fine drizzle.

The plastic sheet was still shifting slowly. After a moment’s thought, Chen Jinsheng stood up and walked outside.

A two-legged ladder now leaned against the east wall. Chen Jinsheng stepped back a bit and saw Chu Heng crouched on the roof, tugging the plastic sheet taut.

He wasn’t holding an umbrella, just wearing a hat to shield himself from the rain. With practiced movements, he stretched the plastic sheet along the roof frame, weighed it down with stones, and climbed down the ladder.

Seeing Chen Jinsheng, he paused, as if just remembering something, and said, “This is my home, but no one lives here anymore.”