Chapter 11: Pervert

Until Chi Mo turned and walked back, moving from the dim streetlights of the rundown neighborhood toward the bright lights of the affluent area across the street. His silhouette was tall and long, upright in a way that inspired a strong sense of security.

Li Ran was so absorbed in watching him—lost in a daze—that he forgot to ask why Chi Mo had been standing alone by the roadside at eight in the evening; why he’d called out to him when he returned; or why he’d given him that chocolate, which was so bitter.

He only knew that when he got home, his mood was surprisingly good.

The phone he rarely used except for calls and messages unusually played music that night.

The melody was light and upbeat, cheerful and uplifting.

After listening to Miss Li pour out her story like beans spilling from a bamboo tube, Li Ran felt his heavy armor lift for no reason at all, leaving him inexplicably lighthearted. While showering, he hummed along with the music. The spacious bathroom filled with steam, creating faint echoes, giving him the illusion that even if a ghost screamed now, it would sing beautifully.

Li Ran picked up that small stone and brought it home. Now he held it in his palm, lathering it up and scrubbing it vigorously.

It turned out to be a white stone.

A pebble, probably dug out from a park path by some kid who got bored and tossed it away.

Once washed clean, it was plump and white.

At first, Li Ran had thought it was black and filthy beyond saving, but who knew cleaning it would make it so endearing.

He placed the white stone next to his toothbrush cup, so he could see it every morning and night while brushing his teeth and immediately recall the day.

Though he didn’t know what was so memorable about today. He just wanted to remember it.

The bitterness still lingered in his mouth. With a slight recollection, Li Ran shuddered as if he’d just bitten into that chocolate again, the realization hitting him late.

How could anyone eat something so bitter?

People should eat sweet things.

But… Li Ran clearly remembered that when the chocolate’s intense bitterness assaulted his tongue, the disappointment and sadness from returning from his mom’s place—repeatedly confirming that she was no longer just his mom—vanished in an instant, like a mountain collapsing into the sea.

Li Ran brushed the inside and outside of his teeth vigorously for five full minutes, his mouth full of foam with the cool, lemony mint fragrance.

Once the bitterness was completely gone, he took a big mouthful of water, rinsed, and spat it out. He repeated this several times, not letting any toothpaste foam linger.

Before bed, Li Ran slipped into his clean, soft pajamas—the green ones he liked. He flopped onto the bed face-first, sinking deeply into the quilt and pillow, letting out a contented sigh.

The bedsheets, quilt, and pillowcase had all been washed and sunned just yesterday, filling the entire bed with the scent of sunshine. Dry and warm.

Li Ran loved the feeling of being buried in sunshine, as if he were being hugged. He stretched his arms out to claim territory, pulling more of the quilt over and piling it in front of his face.

He took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly.

Li Ran fell asleep quickly.

The next day was overcast, a weekend with no school. But Li Ran still got up early, dressed, and headed to the market to buy vegetables.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep in; his biological clock was set that way, early to bed and early to rise a ingrained habit.

So he went to buy vegetables every day. Eating fresh produce had become a habit too.

Today, with extra time, he could practice bargaining, Li Ran thought as he eyed the stalls.

The market was crowded with aunties and grannies jostling to buy. Almost every stall featured heated haggling battles. Li Ran paused at each skirmish to listen, trying to pick up some tips.

The aunties said, “Give me a discount.”

The vendors replied, “This is already cost price! If I go any lower, I might as well give it to you for free.”

Amid the noisy chaos, Li Ran focused intently and concluded from ten “wars” that the aunties won nine times, the vendors only once.

This ratio ignited his confidence, slowly kindling fighting spirit in the usually honest boy—a rare sight. Li Ran decided to seize the moment and give it his best shot.

The vendor selling fresh bok choy had just finished arguing with an auntie. He sighed as he packed the vegetables into a plastic bag. “Fine, fine, just like you said.”

The auntie left triumphantly with a smile.

Li Ran seized the chance while the vendor was defeated and dispirited, unwilling to fight again. He quickly picked some good, fresh veggies, bagged them, and handed them over. Summoning all his courage from his dantian, he said, “Uncle, could you make it cheaper?”

His voice was neither too loud nor too soft, but it was the morning market. Chaos.

The uncle cupped his ear toward Li Ran. “What’d you say?!”

“…” His courage deflated a bit. Li Ran clenched his fingers, raised his voice, but lost his confidence. “…Cheaper, please, Uncle.”

The vendor immediately went on high alert. Losing to that auntie hadn’t depleted his fighting strength. Li Ran was too young, his observations too superficial. With more watching and learning, he’d realize that all sellers, no matter how big or small their business, countered customers with 200% seriousness.

The uncle’s eyes narrowed. Li Ran was dressed neatly, looked handsome. But that face seemed too shrewd, definitely a smooth talker. The uncle braced himself for battle and struck first. “No can do, kid. Uncle was up at three a.m. hauling veggies, worked my butt off. What you’re buying is cost price—no discounts.”

Li Ran’s face grew serious. The uncle expected a silver-tongued retort, but the boy just nodded, stumbling over his words. “Okay… alright then… sure.”

So he was just a clumsy-mouthed little loser.

The uncle sighed, instantly losing interest. “Fine, I’ll knock a bit off for you.”

On the way back, with veggies hanging from the handlebars, Li Ran basked in the morning breeze against his face, smug for the 80th time over his successful haggle.

His mood was great when, around the corner, he nearly bumped into an oncoming Cullinan.

The driver’s window was down, revealing Chi Mo’s cold, hard profile—like someone owed him eight lives first thing in the morning. Li Ran caught it full-on.

It wasn’t Shen Shu driving…

Though they’d interacted a lot lately—Li Ran had gone to Chi Mo’s company building, Chi Mo had given him chocolate—but after 17 years as a little turtle, Li Ran’s nature was hard to change.

He instinctively shrank from tough situations.

And Chi Mo was clearly the toughest “problem” person.

It was overcast today, but Li Ran felt Chi Mo’s expression was even gloomier.

Spotting that cold face—sharp jawline but so aloof, high nose bridge but so aloof, perfect profile but so aloof… Li Ran didn’t dare greet him.

Remembering how he’d upset Chi Mo last night, he lowered his long lashes and drooped his eyes, scanning the asphalt for interesting things.

Afraid Chi Mo didn’t want to talk, approaching would only annoy him more.

…Even though Li Ran had no idea why Mr. Chi was unhappy.

Beside the asphalt, on the dirt, a little ant found food—a crumb of bread. It joyfully retraced its path, touched antennae head-to-head with a companion to share the location.

Soon, they formed a long, orderly line marching toward the food.

Li Ran watched with relish.

By the time he looked up again, the Cullinan and its owner were long gone.

Li Ran exhaled in relief, like surviving a disaster.

No mirror on the handlebars, but he instinctively smiled at himself and nodded approvingly.

Breakfast was simple.

Li Ran sliced two square, white, soft steamed buns horizontally in half, making sure they looked neat, like simple bread slices.

On one half, he layered a poached egg with greens and sliced sausage; on another, tender pan-fried beef with greens and sliced sausage; then spread salad dressing and Lao Gan Ma chili crisp.

The two Chinese-style burgers were perfect, fragrant. Li Ran grabbed one and wolfed it down, squinting in satisfaction. For the second, he decided to savor it slowly, chewing as he headed downstairs with two eggs in his pocket to pay Black Cat’s daily toll.

When he arrived, Black Cat leaped out first, baring teeth in the ritual robbery, then vanished into the bushes.

“Hey…” Li Ran stood there with the two eggs, puzzled. “Don’t you want the eggs anymore?”

About thirty seconds later, Black Cat jumped out aggressively again, resolving Li Ran’s confusion.

It carried a huge dead rat in its mouth, strutting over with majestic kingly aura.

On closer look, the tail was still twitching.

Black Cat didn’t approach Li Ran. It shook its head slightly, flinging the nearly dead rat at the feet of this useless human. After repeated failures to hunt, it decided to handle it personally this time.

But the human didn’t appreciate it.

As the shoe tip touched the soft, squishy… prey corpse, Li Ran’s brain short-circuited. His senses snapped back; horrified, he twisted and jumped away. The eggs and remaining half-burger dropped to the ground. He didn’t even pick them up, still spooked by Hei Ge’s “death threat,” his heart nearly stopping.

He respectfully declined and fled!

He bolted home “putt-putt-putt.”

In an elegant cat sitting pose, watching the fleeing human, Black Cat licked its front paw, utterly baffled. It was repaying a favor.

Why was the human like this?

Halfway back, Li Ran remembered the dropped bun and egg, now trash, and turned to clean up.

But they were gone.

The two shattered round eggs were devoured, leaving only bits of shell.

“It must’ve been on purpose,” Li Ran muttered seriously to himself. “Scared me on purpose to steal my food. Are all cats this smart…?”

Back home, he scrubbed his shoes inside and out three times, then hung them on the balcony to dry.

He wrapped them in layers of paper first, afraid the sun would like his shoes too much and fade them.

The next day, after buying veggies, Li Ran spotted the Cullinan again. He inwardly groaned, lowered his head, and watched ants forage in his usual spot.

Once the Cullinan drove away, he bolted.

And Black Cat was even more outrageous today. On the way to school, after feeding it eggs, it gifted Li Ran two rats, bigger than yesterday’s.

It scared him so much his courage tightened; pedaling his mountain bike madly to escape, he thought if things didn’t get back to normal, he’d never come out again.

So starting Tuesday, Li Ran stopped going early to the market and stopped feeding Black Cat face-to-face. He just tossed eggs into the bushes; Hei Ge would eat them himself.

He no longer encountered the Cullinan or saw Hei Ge’s dead rats. Life was peaceful.

Li Ran was very tolerant.

To achieve his goal, he could go a full week without fresh vegetables. This week, rice was his staple. He’d steam three bowls at a time, or he’d go hungry.

The soft, chewy grains mixed with mushroom sauce, salad dressing, or Lao Gan Ma had their own flavor.

He was easy to please, not picky, and everything tasted good.

Eating like this long-term might cause heatiness.

But Li Ran wasn’t there yet.

He got heaty without pimples, but with canker sores on his lips.

On Saturday evening, as Li Ran prepared to wash up and cook, someone knocked on his door.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

From the day he knew he’d have to live alone, Li Ran’s wariness grew like wild grass.

Besides utility workers checking gas and pipes, no one had ever knocked on his door. The knocking continued.

Li Ran pursed his lips; truthfully, he was a bit scared. He silently crept to the door and peered through the peephole.

…Shen Shu.

Though they’d never spoken, Shen Shu was Chi Mo’s friend, a trustworthy good guy. Li Ran didn’t realize this logic didn’t hold; his vigilance needed work.

Puzzled, he opened the door.

“Is… is there something wrong?” he asked softly.

“You haven’t bought veggies in days; must be out at home.” The door was only half-open; peeking in would show how Li Ran arranged his living room, but Shen Shu stood at the threshold without glancing inside. He thought to himself, Chi Mo this pervert, stalking the kid all day, knowing his three meals clearly, even if he bought veggies in the morning—what the hell.

He said, “Chi Mo wants you to come over for dinner.” He added, “You have to go.”