Zhou Ai did not agree to Li Meng’s request, nor did he follow her to the nearby village to buy charcoal.
The sunlight at the summit was too intense, stinging his eyes as it spilled onto the pages of his book. After he closed the book and went around to the back of the mountain to smoke a couple of cigarettes, he returned to see the sudden appearance of Chen Xunfeng, along with Hu Cheng, who was being pinned down to the ground in a sorry state.
Zhou Ai had actually heard others’ evaluations of Chen Xunfeng. They said his family was wealthy, that no matter what kind of trouble he got into, there would always be someone there to smooth things over for him. Thus, he had the capital to be lawless and to do whatever he pleased.
But the Chen Xunfeng whom Zhou Ai first met in kindergarten was still a dirty child whom neither parent cared for. Back then, Chen Xunfeng didn’t have the family wealth to support him, yet he still dared to provoke everyone who displeased him students in both lower and higher grades at school, and even anyone passing by who lingered with a glance too long.
Perhaps it was because Chen Xunfeng lacked the rule-based upbringing he should have received from his parents from a young age, but his bottom line and sense of restriction had always been extremely weak. Even in kindergarten, he was the “little madman” others talked about. His code of conduct never changed based on his background; it was purely because that was who Chen Xunfeng had always been.
And so, when Zhou Ai walked around the corner and caught his first glimpse of Chen Xunfeng standing sideways to him, he couldn’t help but furrow his brow. Chen Xunfeng wasn’t counting and wasn’t restraining himself. If he had exerted just a little more force, the whole situation would have taken on a completely different nature.
Therefore, Zhou Ai had to go over to pull Chen Xunfeng up from the ground.
The back of the mountain was the western boundary of the entire summit plateau. A narrow, sheep-path-like trail was the necessary route through, marked with a sign reading: “Do not approach! Danger!” Zhou Ai walked in front, expertly pushing aside the warning sign and walking into the deeper area, while Chen Xunfeng just followed his back in silence.
After looping around, there was a small grove of trees, sparsely scattered, followed by the bottomless, steep mountain wall at the edge.
The wind here was incredibly strong, and the leaves overhead rustled and clattered, making the area feel even more secluded, far away from the noisy crowd on the other side.
When they reached the center of the grove, Zhou Ai stopped and turned around. Chen Xunfeng stopped at the same moment, standing exactly two steps away from Zhou Ai. He was wearing black, so the dust he had rubbed off on the ground at the edges of his pants was especially visible.
Zhou Ai’s gaze swept across Chen Xunfeng’s pant legs before he raised his eyes to look at the boy opposite him. Chen Xunfeng’s expression still maintained the coldness from before, but as he looked at Zhou Ai, his gaze softened. The woods rustled around them, and the two stood in silence, staring at each other. Since their reunion, Chen Xunfeng had been the one to initiate conversation almost every time they met. But this time, Chen Xunfeng stood opposite him and made no move for quite a while.
He was waiting for Zhou Ai to make the first gesture.
Zhou Ai exhaled softly. Since many things were now laid out before them, there was no need to ask for unnecessary details everything was already self-evident. Why Chen Xunfeng had beaten up Jiang Wenyi in the bathroom during the first monthly exam, why Chen Xunfeng had pinned Hu Cheng to the ground in front of everyone today Zhou Ai could guess the reasons.
And it was precisely because of what he had guessed that he felt hesitant now.
Zhou Ai bowed his head to fish a cigarette case from his pocket, but the wind was everywhere. He tried to light it twice, but the cigarette in his hand still wouldn’t ignite. In the end, Chen Xunfeng stepped forward two steps, took the lighter and case from his hands, and cupped his hands around the flame to light the cigarette for him.
The tobacco burned, mixing with the scent of cold peppermint as smoke rose and drifted toward Chen Xunfeng’s eyes. He didn’t pull back for a moment, just looking down at Zhou Ai with lowered lashes. Finally, it was Zhou Ai who stepped back two steps, until his back lightly touched a tree that wasn’t very thick.
Zhou Ai leaned slightly against the tree, slowly taking a drag of the cigarette. He always inhaled the smoke deeply, letting it cycle through his lungs before exhaling the smoking method of an experienced veteran.
Chen Xunfeng stood before him, staring straight at him, waiting for him to finish the cigarette.
As he exhaled a thin puff of smoke, the cigarette held between Zhou Ai’s fingers, Zhou Ai paused slightly before raising his hand to continue his movements. He signaled to Chen Xunfeng in sign language, asking him: In your eyes, what exactly do you see when you look at me?
After signing this, Zhou Ai had an instinctive urge to reach into his pocket, but his phone was in his backpack over there, and he hadn’t brought it with him. Chen Xunfeng’s lashes flickered; he noticed this, so he handed over his own phone.
Zhou Ai paused, looking down at the phone held out to him. Chen Xunfeng had already opened a clean memo interface, but Zhou Ai didn’t take it.
An accident in his early childhood had caused Zhou Ai to lose the ability to speak forever, long before he had the chance to utter his first clear word. As a mute in the universal sense, Zhou Ai’s first required course was learning to communicate with the world in another way. Others learned to open their mouths and make sounds to express themselves from a young age; Zhou Ai had to learn to express himself using body language and sign language.
Other children were led by their parents to slowly speak their first complete sentences. Zhou Ai, at roughly the same pace, was taught by teachers to sign his first long sentence. But even so, this method of communication didn’t increase Zhou Ai’s connection to the world or the people around him. Zhou Ruicheng didn’t want Zhou Ai to be “special,” so from childhood to adulthood, Zhou Ai was placed in a pile of normal people to grow up.
Zhou Ai attended normal kindergartens and elementary schools; his daily life was entrusted to the care of a strict and indifferent nanny. Normal children had no patience to wait for him to sign; normal adults couldn’t understand Zhou Ai’s “language” at all. Just as Zhou Ai had learned how to “communicate,” he was passively cast aside by the world. Sign language was his way of communicating with the outside world, but in turn, it reminded others that he was an outlier.
So, many times, Zhou Ai would even forget that he could actually express himself.
The cigarette between his fingers was about to burn out. Zhou Ai crushed it out. His throat and lungs were soaked with the coolness of peppermint. He looked straight at Chen Xunfeng, continuing the question he had just asked. He asked Chen Xunfeng: In your eyes, am I still that mute who needs to hide behind you?
Chen Xunfeng’s gaze was deep. He watched Zhou Ai standing before him and signed the final short sentence: But I don’t need your help anymore.
Zhou Ai finally let his hands down. This was the attitude he was putting forward—three simple questions, directly tearing away the final layer of fabric standing between them. Since their reunion, Zhou Ai had always felt that a layer of fabric was draped over them; that fabric was called “time.” Chen Xunfeng could always easily ignore that fabric, but Zhou Ai could not, because the person under that veil was no longer the person he once was.
Chen Xunfeng watched him and remained silent for a while. The sun was suddenly obscured by a thick layer of clouds, making the spot feel more shaded. Chen Xunfeng’s frame was shrouded in shadow; his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, and he finally spoke. He said: “But I can’t stand it.”
Chen Xunfeng’s voice was slightly dry. He looked into Zhou Ai’s eyes: “I won’t hide anything from you. At a certain moment today… I wanted Hu Cheng to completely disappear from your life.”
Chen Xunfeng laughed softly and shook his head: “I don’t know why… but in my eyes, you are just Zhou Ai. Zhou Ai is Zhou Ai. 7-year-old Zhou Ai, 17-year-old Zhou Ai aren’t they both you?”
“When you were 7, other people bullied you, and I couldn’t stand it. You’ll be 17 next month; I know you’ve grown up. You’re almost an adult; you’re already an adult now. But when others bully you, I still can’t stand it.”
Chen Xunfeng shook his head lightly again and repeated: “…I don’t know why. I only know that this doesn’t seem to have anything to do with whether you’ve grown up or how old you are now.”
Chen Xunfeng was still clutching the lighter he had just taken from Zhou Ai a light blue, transparent plastic lighter, worth fifty cents, seen everywhere on the streets. Chen Xunfeng flicked the lighter mindlessly, but the flame was extinguished by the wind every time it sparked. Finally, he stopped: “I still haven’t asked you… how you really lived during the years I was gone. On one hand, I haven’t found the opportunity to ask you yet; on the other hand, I suspect that even if I did ask, you wouldn’t want to tell me.”
Chen Xunfeng reached out and took Zhou Ai’s hand, placing the lighter in Zhou Ai’s cool palm. He said: “I don’t care what you hide from me; that is your power and your freedom. But Zhou Ai, what I want to know, I will eventually find out, because that is also my power and my freedom.”
Chen Xunfeng looked at Zhou Ai before him. Zhou Ai stood quietly in front of him, with only his hair being blown into delicate arcs by the wind. No matter when or where, he always softened involuntarily whenever he saw Zhou Ai. That was why he didn’t understand why there were always so many rotten people from childhood to adulthood who had to be bastards, who had to come and provoke Zhou Ai.
Chen Xunfeng suddenly felt a desire to embrace the boy before him, and he indeed did so. From the first moment he saw Zhou Ai at the Sixth High, from the days he had followed Zhou Ai, he had wanted to do this—he had wanted to gently embrace the slender back before him.
The sun hid behind the thick clouds, and the gloom in the woods remained undispelled. In the shade, Chen Xunfeng took a small step forward, then raised his hand and loosely embraced the back of the boy before him.
Zhou Ai’s cool, peppermint scent surrounded him. He lowered his head and rested his eyes lightly on Zhou Ai’s shoulder. It was a very loose, very quiet embrace. Zhou Ai only needed to apply a little force, and the two could separate.
Chen Xunfeng paused, leaning against Zhou Ai’s shoulder and neck, before finally saying the belated words of reunion to the boy he was holding. He said: “Zhou Ai, I am Chen Xunfeng. I’m back.”
Zhou Ai’s hands hung at his sides without moving. Chen Xunfeng’s voice was pressed against his neck, sounding low and light when it emerged, like a whisper.
Chen Xunfeng said he was Chen Xunfeng; Chen Xunfeng was emphasizing to him that he was Chen Xunfeng.
Zhou Ai’s chin was passively resting against Chen Xunfeng’s shoulder; Chen Xunfeng’s cool hair brushed against his ear, causing a slight itch. Sunlight leapt out from behind the clouds, and a ray of light spilled down through the branches, casting a honey-colored band of light on Chen Xunfeng’s back. Zhou Ai’s eyes were squinted by the sudden light, and then he slowly raised his chin from Chen Xunfeng’s shoulder, looking up at the sun gradually revealing itself overhead.
“Why is there something hard under your clothes?” Chen Xunfeng released Zhou Ai gently. He tugged at Zhou Ai’s jacket with his hand; there seemed to be a hard, shell-like layer beneath the clothing.
Zhou Ai looked at him and reached up to unzip his jacket, revealing the lumbar support brace he was wearing underneath.
Chen Xunfeng reached out to touch it. He naturally recognized the object. His brow twitched slightly, and a cold flicker crossed his lowered face: “So, is this the reason why you asked for half a month of leave last time?”
Zhou Ai zipped his jacket back up and looked at him.
Chen Xunfeng raised his hand to straighten the collar Zhou Ai had folded down. His gaze rested on the edge of the collar, and he asked as if very casually: “What happened?”
Zhou Ai tilted his head slightly, observing the expression of the Chen Xunfeng before him. With his eyebrows slightly raised, the Chen Xunfeng before him looked as if he were preparing to seek revenge for him. Chen Xunfeng seemed to always feel that he would suffer losses or be hurt in all sorts of places; he was even becoming paranoid. Zhou Ai raised his hand to sign: Do you think I’m that useless?
As soon as this question was asked, they seemed to be heading back to the topic from before. So, after signing this, Zhou Ai quickly added: Fell down the stairs.
The expression of sign language is inevitably less free than spoken language, and even the content translated by different people varies. The natural syntax and grammar of sign language purely for the deaf and mute are also different from spoken language. Zhou Ai, who started coming into contact with sign language in childhood, would initially adjust the order of words and phrases character by character to match the order of spoken language, but he soon discovered that even if he signed a complete sentence, no one could understand it.
Gradually, he stopped moving his hands, until he met Chen Xunfeng. But at the beginning, their “communication” didn’t rely on sign language because Chen Xunfeng didn’t know it at all.
They had written words, but Chen Xunfeng was the type of person who didn’t listen in class and didn’t turn in homework; he was barely literate. Zhou Ai could only start by using pinyin to annotate and teach Chen Xunfeng how to read. Eventually, the goal turned into teaching, not communication. They also drew pictures, but their drawing styles were vastly different; even when copying the same object, the results were entirely different. Then Chen Xunfeng said he wanted to learn sign language, but by the time Zhou Ai had slowly taught Chen Xunfeng all the signs he knew, they realized that they had already become too familiar with each other by then.
So familiar that Zhou Ai only needed a single look, and Chen Xunfeng would know what he meant.
So at that time, Zhou Ai could be very “lazy” when communicating with Chen Xunfeng. They knew each other too well. Sign language wasn’t their only way of communicating. Many times, Zhou Ai only needed to sign two simple words, and Chen Xunfeng could fill in the meaning of the whole sentence himself.
Just now, when adding the final answer, Zhou Ai had instinctively signed the word “stairs” first, and Chen Xunfeng had reacted just as quickly. His brow furrowed slightly as he examined Zhou Ai carefully: “Fell down the stairs? Did you get hurt anywhere else?”
Zhou Ai didn’t answer this question. He wanted to end this topic. He looked at Chen Xunfeng’s pant legs, took a tissue from his pocket, and handed it to him.
Chen Xunfeng took it but just patted his leg casually. Then, he took Zhou Ai’s wrist, spread his palm, and used the tissue to wipe away the black cigarette ash from the fingers he had used to extinguish his cigarette earlier.
Zhou Ai looked down at his own fingers. The bit of ash he hadn’t even noticed had already been wiped clean by Chen Xunfeng.
Zhou Ai’s palm was always a little cool. Chen Xunfeng touched it and asked: “Are you cold?”
Zhou Ai pulled his hand back, tucked it into his jacket pocket, and walked out first. They still returned along the original path; it was still Chen Xunfeng walking behind. After passing the “Do not approach! Danger!” sign, Chen Xunfeng reached out and pushed the sign back to its original position.
The violence that had been about to erupt in Class 1 was blocked by Zhou Ai, who had arrived mid-way. After Chen Xunfeng left, only then did anyone from Class 1 dare to approach Hu Cheng and help him up from the ground. No one talked about the beating Chen Xunfeng had just delivered, because this wasn’t the first time such an incident had happened in their class. No one wanted to invite trouble upon themselves and become the next Jiang Wenyi or Hu Cheng, so they quickly painted over the situation, pretending nothing had happened and continuing to prepare for the barbecue.