Shen Yu’s speed had clearly been very fast, but as soon as that boy walked into the alley, he vanished without a trace. A fog suddenly rose around them, and then the two of them were back in the corner of that very same alleyway.
“Let’s just take this little knife today.”
The tall boy, still towering over him, pressed the frail boy into the corner, rummaged through his worn-out pencil case, picked out a small pencil-sharpening knife, and then strode away.
The little boy packed up his things, walked into that alley, and once again disappeared, before the scene reset right back to this spot.
For several days in a row, the tall boy took something from the boy every single day, while the little boy always endured it in silence, never uttering a single word.
The scene shifted once more. It was still dismissal time, and a light drizzle was falling. The tall boy stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, half-leaning against the wall as he waited for the little boy to pass by.
The fine rain wet his hair and clothes, but he seemed entirely unconcerned. Yet, when he saw the boy walking slowly toward him with his schoolbag on his back, he frowned slightly: “Little Bean Sprout, why aren’t you carrying an umbrella?”
The boy did not answer; he only kept his head down as he walked.
“A little chick like you will just turn into a drowned rat if you get caught in the rain!” The tall boy’s tone was half-reproaching and half-disgusted as he wiped the rainwater from his buzz cut. “Guys like me are the ones who are cool!”
The little boy stopped in front of him and raised his head to look at him for the very first time. Rainwater fell partly into his eyes and partly streamed down his fair, thin cheeks.
His eyes were half-squinted, his pale lips moved slightly, and his voice was somewhat hoarse.
“I’m giving it all to you.”
He shoved his entire schoolbag into the tall boy’s hands, then turned around and walked toward another alley entrance.
“The tall boy clutched the schoolbag and chased after him: “Hey, where are you going?”
The boy walked calmly and slowly, his slender back looking increasingly frail as it was soaked by the rain.
“Summer break starts tomorrow. You’re throwing away your schoolbag you can’t possibly be trying to skip your homework, right?”
The boy ran up beside him, asking questions all the way. The little boy remained completely silent throughout, until the tall boy finally lost his patience and blocked his path: “Where on earth are you going?”
The boy half-raised his gaze, yet he did not look at him.
After a long pause, he calmly said, “To die.”
The tall boy was clearly stunned. By the time he recovered, the boy had already walked away on his own. Holding the schoolbag, the tall boy followed him at a close distance until they reached the riverbank; by then, he was truly beginning to panic.
“Little Bean Sprout!” he shouted at the boy, rushing forward quickly to shove the schoolbag back into his hands. The bag was heavy, filled entirely with textbooks, accounting for almost half of the boy’s body weight.
“Here’s your schoolbag back. The protection money you handed over to me, I’ll return it to you tomorrow, too!” His tone grew somewhat urgent. “Don’t go dying.”
The boy looked at the schoolbag: “I won’t have any use for it anymore.”
“These are all things you treasure so much, why don’t you want them anymore? Aren’t your grades really good?” The tall boy was thoroughly baffled. “And these books, you even wrapped their covers with newspaper…”
“…What’s the point?” The boy forced out a self-deprecating smile, carrying a weariness and desolation that did not belong to his age.
“Is it because of… your dad?” The tall boy seemed to recall something. “I heard your mother died early, and your dad drinks and gambles, and won’t even let you study… He even came to cause a scene at the school before.”
He reached out to grab the boy’s shoulder, and the boy instinctively flinched, shrinking backward. Soaked through by the rain, the thin school uniform revealed mottled blue and purple scars across the boy’s arms and shoulders.
“Did he hit you?” The tall boy’s expression shifted slightly. After a moment of thought, he asked, “Why don’t you run away?”
The boy shook off his hand and stepped back a few paces: “Where could I possibly run to?”
“He’s my father. No one can do anything about it.” He walked toward the riverbank. “The teachers can’t manage him, and my classmates look down on me… No one cares…”
One of his feet had already stepped onto the river beach.
“Xu Jiachen!” the tall boy shouted at him, leaping forward to grab his hand. “You are not allowed to die!”
“What right do you have to manage me?!” The boy’s emotions had completely collapsed. Usually so frail and weak, he suddenly found an unknown source of temper and strength, shoving the tall boy away. “What right?! What right… No one cares about me… No one can manage me…”
The tall boy pressed down on his arms, trying to pin him in place, but the boy fought back with all his might, his strength shockingly formidable. For a moment, the two of them scuffled. After all, the tall boy had the advantage in size and ran with a street crowd; he had never lost a fight. Taking advantage of the boy’s unstable footing as one foot sank deep into the mud, the tall boy quickly pinned his shoulders and forced him down to the ground.
“Xu Jiachen.” The tall boy’s body hovered over his, his arms braced on either side of the boy’s head. Rainwater beat down upon him, tracing the contours of his cheeks to pool at his chin before dripping continuously downward.
“I collected your protection fee. I’ll manage you.”
His voice mingled with the sound of the rain as it fell beside the boy’s ear.
Lying in the mud, the boy opened his eyes wide, his mouth agape as he panted heavily, his chest heaving violently.
Then, his tears flowed unreservedly.
At first it was a suppressed sob, but gradually, a hoarse cry broke from his throat. He blocked his eyes with his arm, crying loudly and recklessly.
The rain grew lighter, gradually coming to a stop alongside the crying.
The tall boy let out a breath, withdrew his arms, and rolled over to lie flat on his back in the muddy ground beside him.
Neither of them spoke, just lying there quietly, watching the dark clouds in the sky disperse as the night gradually deepened.
“Dying hurts a lot. Don’t think about dying,” the tall boy suddenly said softly.
“You… how do you know?” Xu Jiachen tilted his head slightly.
“I almost died once. I have experience.” The tall boy curled his lips, speaking nonchalantly.
Xu Jiachen’s gaze fell upon the scars on the other’s arms. He remembered that the exposed arms and calves of the boy had numerous scars, which looked like they had been left behind from street fights and brawls.
“Then are you afraid of death?” Xu Jiachen asked.
“I don’t know,” the person beside him answered candidly.
“Then why do you still fight with your life on the line?” Xu Jiachen did not quite understand.
The tall boy rested his arms behind his head and thought about it: “Probably because that’s the only way I feel like I’m alive. A guy like me doesn’t even know how to prove the value of his own existence; all I know how to do is fight.”
“At least I’m really good at fighting.” He blinked and turned his head to look at Xu Jiachen. “You’re different. You study very well, you’ll make something of yourself in the future, and you’ll leave this place.”
“You… how do you know who I am?”
“If I didn’t even know that, how could I survive out on the streets?” He laughed. “Besides, don’t you know how famous you are at school?!”
“Huh?”
“Out of the three impoverished students in our school, your grades have always been the top ones the kind the teachers praise every time they open their mouths.”
“You’re also a student at our school?” Judging by his height, Xu Jiachen had assumed he was already in middle school.
“I’m in the fifth grade too, Class 3, but I’m two years older than you.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, what?” the tall boy chuckled. “I was held back a grade, didn’t you know that either? I’m quite famous too, though I’m the exact opposite of you the kind of student whose name makes teachers need smelling salts the moment they bring it up.”
“What… what’s your name?”
The tall boy gazed at the night sky with a pair of brilliant eyes.
“My name is a bit old-fashioned.” He paused. “It’s Zhao Bin, the ‘Bin’ of military and cultural prowess.”
Song Huaiyan finally remembered the two people whom his teachers had repeatedly brought up in front of him when he was in the second grade: one was Xu Jiachen, and the other was Zhao Bin.
When he was in the first grade, both of his parents suffered an accident. Since his father had been an orphan, only his maternal grandmother, who was still alive, was left to raise him.
He became the third impoverished student at the school. Back then, the teachers always used the fifth-grader Xu Jiachen as an exemplary example to encourage him to study hard, while treating Zhao Bin a rebellious youth who had gone to join the Qinglong Gang as a typical negative textbook example.
There were many street gangs in the town back then, with the Qinglong Gang being the largest among them. They ranged from unemployed drifters to students of all age groups, engaging in gambling, lending, fighting, disturbing the peace, and collecting protection money. However, because their boss had some connections, as long as no one was killed, the local police turned a blind eye.
Song Huaiyan turned his head and saw that Shen Yu had been quietly watching everything unfolding before them, his thin lips pressed into a straight line as he wondered what was on his mind. Just as he was about to speak, the scene before his eyes suddenly shifted, and they were back in that alleyway.
“Take these things back.” Zhao Bin brought over all the “protection money” he had collected over the past few days, completely intact.
Xu Jiachen looked them over and only took back that single fountain pen from the pile: “You said it yourself, you were going to collect protection money.”
Zhao Bin seemed to understand, and he smiled, revealing his signature canine teeth.
“Actually, that day was my first time collecting protection money. I had just joined the Qinglong Gang, and the boss wanted me to prove my loyalty and capability. I picked and chose for a long time before I finally selected your fragile little frame—you looked so thin and small, just like a bean sprout.”
He burst out laughing and patted Xu Jiachen on the shoulder.
“From now on, you’re someone under my protection, Big Brother Bin! You don’t have to be afraid of anyone!”
He was, after all, only half-grown himself, but because he was tall and built large compared to the malnourished, short, and slender Xu Jiachen, he especially looked like an adult.
The nightmare shattered abruptly at that moment, and the surrounding scenery faded away.
Song Huaiyan turned around and saw that Shen Yu was standing right behind him, one hand tugging at his sleeve.
“Are you alright?” Song Huaiyan instinctively pulled his hand to bring him forward, his two fingers releasing spiritual energy to tap right between his brows.
Shen Yu’s soul was currently unstable, making him most susceptible to invasion by nightmares.
A so-called nightmare is a dream fragment generated by the lingering obsession of a deceased person. Generally, they do not last long in the world before dissipating, or they are gathered through formations into the Hall of All Things to be purified by the waters of the Boundless Pool. If one occasionally enters the dream of a mortal, it will not cause too much harm—merely resulting in a few days of nightmares and some fatigue upon waking.
Song Huaiyan was practically immune to the effects of nightmares; entering one in broad daylight this time must have been because Shen Yu pulled him inside.
Fortunately, Shen Yu’s spiritual platform remained unaffected; his gaze was simply fixed steadily on him. Song Huaiyan breathed a sigh of relief and then somewhat awkwardly let go of his hand.
“Shixiong,” Shen Yu spoke, his gaze shifting past him to look ahead.
“What is it?” Song Huaiyan turned around and saw a few snack carts approaching from the intersection ahead, evidently packing up in a hurry because of the rain.
“Flower pastry.” Shen Yu’s gaze landed on one of the snack carts selling pastries.
Nowadays, there were quite a few shops and stalls selling flower pastries in the old street, but most of them only looked pretty in style, and their taste fell far short of Uncle Li’s.
Yet, since his junior brother wanted to eat them, buying them was a given.
Shen Yu held a flower pastry shaped like blossoms and green leaves for a long time, then suddenly called out, “Shixiong.”
Song Huaiyan had just put away his phone after scanning the QR code, waiting for the rest of what he had to say.
He then heard Shen Yu package the pastries properly and say earnestly, “I’ve collected your protection fee; from now on, I’ll protect you.”