Li Ran didn’t know what Chi Mo was doing at home, nor did he know that he wouldn’t see that string of black Bodhi Beads for a long time afterward.
When he got home, he ate something simple. He didn’t eat too much in the evening.
Three sushi rolls and one egg.
Plus 300ml of milk.
While washing up, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was still the same, looking soft and utterly harmless.
As if he could be slaughtered anywhere, anytime.
He used to hate himself like this. But over the past couple of days, he’d realized he was okay.
He didn’t know why…
Perhaps after a few interactions with someone like Chi Mo, his subconscious had started to arrogantly assume he wasn’t so bad either.
When the person in the mirror tugged at the corner of his mouth and smiled along with him, he felt even better about himself.
The next day, Li Ran went to school as usual and got up early every day to go to the market as usual.
There were many people buying vegetables, mostly new faces every day. Over the years, though, Li Ran had gotten to know most of the vendors’ faces pretty well, even if he wasn’t close with them.
He could spot it right away if someone new took over a stall, but he’d act like nothing was wrong. Since he wasn’t familiar with the person at all, he wouldn’t buy from that stall. Only after observing for several days and confirming the owner was decent and the veggies were cheap would he patronize it.
This wariness was a habit he’d developed since childhood.
Li Ran never succeeded in haggling again.
Last time had been pure luck.
But the uncle who’d “lost” to Li Ran last time, when he came back to buy more veggies, would say no, he couldn’t go any lower, it was a small business at cost price and he couldn’t make money, refusing to let Li Ran haggle—while quietly giving him a discount or wiping off the change, all while complaining that Li Ran was bad at bargaining.
Later, Li Ran kept going to that uncle’s stall.
Not out of gratitude for the discounts, but because the uncle’s vegetables were fresh and he was straightforward.
It was comfortable to deal with him.
The uncle said Li Ran was addicted to freeloading, grumbling under his breath but never charging extra.
The Black Cat’s toll was still two egg yolks every day, no more, no less. Lately, it always brought its wife along—from initially half-hiding and wary when Li Ran got close to look, to now boldly showing off without a care.
Li Ran had become quite familiar with the White Cat’s face from the front. The more he looked, the prettier she seemed.
The weather was getting hotter and hotter. Many people said spring was cat mating season, and by summer, they’d have a litter of kittens.
It was already summer now, so after thinking about it, Li Ran always stared at the White Cat’s belly.
Pregnant? Pregnant? Not pregnant?
Given birth? Given birth? Not yet?
He wondered how much the toll would be if the White Cat really had kittens.
Two egg yolks definitely wouldn’t be enough.
The White Cat hadn’t given birth yet, but the next day, Li Ran added an extra meal for them on his own.
Four egg yolks.
Cats couldn’t eat egg whites—or more precisely, couldn’t eat too many. Li Ran had never let them have any; he always dealt with them himself.
From two egg whites to four, he’d eaten like that for three or four days. His body felt fine, but he just didn’t feel great.
Looks like humans can’t eat too many either.
But not eating them would be wasteful.
He’d just finished feeding the cats when the Black Cullinan drove out from the upscale neighborhood across the street, passing by Li Ran. He was surprised Chi Mo was leaving so late today; he’d thought they hadn’t run into each other at the market because he was already at the office.
“Mr. Chi.”
Chi Mo rested his hand on the car window. “Mm.”
He glanced at the afterimage of the Black Cat and White Cat leaping into the bushes as the car pulled up—those two creatures had bristled and bolted on the spot, their wariness of humans matching Li Ran’s back then.
“Have you gotten them used to you after feeding them so long?” He turned back to Li Ran and said, “Hope they’re not ungrateful wolves.”
It sounded pointed, like a veiled jab.
“Pretty used to me… I think.” Li Ran wasn’t confident. His eyes shifted away from Chi Mo’s empty wrist draped over the window.
Then he gave a shy smile. “Mr. Chi, do you want some eggs?”
“Eh?” Chi Mo narrowed his eyes.
Li Ran immediately handed over four egg whites with shells, intact yolks removed, offering them like treasure.
“Here, for you. Boiled eggs are tasty.”
He was skilled at feeding the cats and extracting yolks—he’d crack the egg slightly from the top near the middle, expose the yolk, and carefully take it out. The egg white stayed mostly intact in the shell, though separated from the yolk.
Chi Mo wanted to say, what kind of garbage are you trying to fob off on me? But his hand had already reached out and taken the pile of scraps.
…Leftovers from wild cats, no less.
If his business rivals knew the renowned President Chi was eating this, they’d die laughing.
“Remember to send messages,” Chi Mo said.
The Cullinan pulled away slowly. Li Ran replied, “I know.”
These past few days, everything about sending daily messages had been taught by Chi Mo.
He wasn’t allowed to ask Qi Zhi anymore, but Li Ran had wondered what exactly to send.
Chi Mo said anything was fine.
Red lights, green lights, roadsides, blue skies, white clouds, school—and of course, three meals a day.
Every little detail his eyes caught could become its own poem.
Li Ran sent them earnestly; Chi Mo read them earnestly.
On his bike ride to school, he ran into his landlady Auntie Wang.
She was with her husband, both carrying bags of stuff.
Li Ran greeted uncle and auntie.
“Hey, good good, Xiao Ran, off to school? You head out so early now—starting to study hard?” Auntie Wang took a bag of fruit from her husband, telling him to watch his old bones, and beamed as she held it up. “Want some fruit, Xiao Ran? My daughter bought these; she’s picking up the kid soon. My son comes back next month too.”
Li Ran quickly said no, no thanks.
Every time he saw Auntie Wang, she talked nonstop about her kids, bragging them up big time. He’d met her daughter, who was a lot like her—always smiling and chatty. But he’d never seen her son. Auntie Wang said he’d graduated university, gone abroad for further studies, hadn’t come back yet, but this time he would to get married. She was glad he hadn’t found a foreign wife, or she’d be lost with that bird language—couldn’t wake up to “good morning” or whatever.
Their family vibe was warm and joyful. Li Ran found it interesting and secretly envied it a bit, feeling happy when he overheard Auntie Wang chatting with the neighbors.
—
High School Class 20’s homeroom teacher had a perfect name—Ban Wei.
The students called him “Old Ban,” which suited his name perfectly. Sometimes the “class vibe” he gave off matched it too. In the last ten days before the end of sophomore year, Ban Wei underwent a personality shift. He arrived at school one or two hours early every day, cracking down on class discipline.
He’d issued an iron decree: if they dared let him place dead last in the final exams again, he didn’t mind “sharking” a few students for fun, warning Class 20’s sixty heads to watch themselves!
To fight for second-to-last and save some face, Ban Wei had been coming in extra early lately.
When Li Ran entered from the back door and collided with Ban Wei entering from the front for the third time that week, their eyes met, creating an illusion that the sky was falling.
The end of the Earth was nigh.
Otherwise, why would two lazy good-for-nothings like them suddenly get motivated?
Ban Wei couldn’t hold back. “Li Ran, you’ve been really proactive lately.”
Li Ran wanted to say the same about Ban Wei, but he was the student—he didn’t dare.
Instead, he silently poked Qi Zhi’s shoulder with a finger, telling him to scoot his stool forward and make space so he could pass.
Every time he returned to or left his seat, Qi Zhi needed a poke from Li Ran to budge. With all the girlfriends he’d dated, he really shouldn’t lack that much awareness.
Once seated, Li Ran endured Ban Wei’s scrutinizing gaze, pretending to open a textbook, burying his head in it to fake diligent studying.
But what he pulled out was math. After two years of high school, he recognized the formulas, but actually doing problems? Pure guessing.
The eight-school joint exam score of 55.5…
Was thanks to good multiple-choice guessing.
A couple days ago, the school held a monthly exam; results came out today.
Li Ran scored 60.
Not bad, not bad… He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Rounding up, that’s five points better than last time.” When Ban Wei read Li Ran’s paper, he nodded approvingly and called him up to get it.
His expectations weren’t high. “Proves you can improve by five next time too. So aim for 65, then 70. By senior year with daily tests, you’ll ace the gaokao. I hear you’ve been coming early lately, not arriving just in time for class. You must be studying hard after getting to class, right? Have you discussed tough questions with your deskmate?”
Ban Wei handed Li Ran his own perfect-score paper last, telling him to pass it back, then looked toward the back row. “Qi Zhi, teach your deskmate properly.”
As if. The guy’s romance was flying high—one bell and he’d hug his phone texting, yet scores didn’t drop. Impressive. Qi Zhi grinned without smiling. “Ok, ok, ok.”
Li Ran set Qi Zhi’s perfect paper on his desk, then carefully poked his shoulder again, signaling him to move so he could get back.
After class, when Ban Wei left the room, Li Ran immediately ducked his head to rummage in his bag.
He always kept his phone in there.
Never played with it in class—a model rule-follower. But before, he hadn’t played much after class either. When Qi Zhi asked what good was a phone if not played with, Li Ran had seriously said: for calling.
His phone was just transportation—for chatting or calling Mom and Dad.
Not like these past few days… Texting every break, even taking calls outside, like he wanted to crawl into the phone.
Who dated this clingily?
Sour enough to rot teeth.
And Li Ran wasn’t a total idiot. He’d only asked Qi Zhi for advice once, then somehow self-taught how to deal with girls—no more need for Qi Zhi.
“So close with your friend?” Qi Zhi poked Li Ran’s arm with his pen cap, smirking.
Li Ran had solemnly declared no girlfriend, so Qi Zhi played along.
No point poking the bear.
“Yeah, he’s a good guy. Deskmate, want some chocolate?” Li Ran dug in his bag and pulled out a rectangular bar, generously offering it to Qi Zhi. “This one’s good. Try it.”
Qi Zhi thought he was grabbing his phone; caught off guard by this, the pen cap slipped, and he fumbled to catch the chocolate before tossing the cap on the desk in annoyance.
“Why give me this all of a sudden?” Qi Zhi took it without hesitation, tore open the wrapper without looking, and crunched half off.
Li Ran said, “Thanks for the snacks last time. Of course I have to give you some too.”
“Just snacks—why split hairs?” Qi Zhi laughed. “Did you like those? I can give you more if you did.”
“They were from my aunt from abroad anyway; I’m sick of them. She…”
The chocolate was smooth and silky, melting in the mouth.
Slightly bitter at first, but mostly sweet.
A bitter aftertaste lingered.
Yet it was addictive.
Not done chewing, Qi Zhi glanced down at the logo.
He’d had this chocolate before.
This logo was unique.
Not on the market—sold through rare channels, like exclusive for the factory owner.
Top-notch texture, safe ingredients.
You could eat a bunch no problem.
“A’Dai… You didn’t buy this yourself somewhere, right?”
Li Ran shook his head. “Friend gave it.”
Qi Zhi knew a bit about Li Ran’s divorced parents. His social circle was simple; honestly, Qi Zhi was probably the richest in it.
The chocolate wrapper suddenly felt like a knockoff.
Taste was spot-on, though. Good fake.
Qi Zhi didn’t pry further, swallowed the rest, slung an arm around Li Ran’s neck, and said, “Thanks, best deskmate. Didn’t dote on you for nothing. You even know to give me stuff now—growing up, Li Ran. Whatever good stuff I get, it’s all yours from now on.”
The buddy weight slumped Li Ran’s shoulder; half his body nearly fell into Qi Zhi’s lap. He hurriedly gripped the desk to sit up straight, unaccustomed. “Mm.”
The bell rang just then. Li Ran instantly became the obedient rule-follower, whispering for Qi Zhi not to talk to him.
The chocolate was from Chi Mo yesterday.
Li Ran finished school in the evening, and Chi Mo happened to get off work at the same time. The two had been getting along well lately, reaching the point where they would naturally exchange a few words whenever they met.
The mountain bike and the Cullinan parked one behind the other along the same roadside, both in black tones.
“Here.” Chi Mo reached out.
He offered two chocolates identical to the ones from last time. The bitter taste was still fresh in Li Ran’s memory, and he didn’t want to take them.
For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.
It wasn’t until Chi Mo said, “You can refuse me.”
Li Ran looked at him distrustfully.
Three seconds later, with insufficient confidence but an inexplicable tenacity, he said, “…I don’t want them.”
Chi Mo asked, “Why?”
It was clearly him who had said refusal was allowed, yet he asked the question with leisure. Li Ran stared at him bluntly. “They’re too bitter.”
“Mm.” Chi Mo acknowledged, letting him see that his refusal had an effect. He turned to the car, swapped them for two new ones, and extended his large hand forward again. “This flavor is sweet.”
Li Ran’s eyes were full of suspicion. Though he didn’t dare meet his gaze directly, he lifted his eyes to peek at him, boldly showing his distrust.
Back when he had first met Chi Mo, he wouldn’t have dared to be so bold and lively.
“They’re really sweet.” Chi Mo didn’t regret losing his trust; instead, he found it somewhat helplessly amusing. In a childish way that Li Ran could accept, he raised his hand and swore, “If I’m lying, I’m a dog. Though there’s still a slight bitterness—try it and see if you like it.”
Li Ran took a small bite first, testing it out. It was delicious.
His eyes lit up.
The situation of clearly refusing and receiving positive feedback stirred something in Li Ran’s heart.
He thought, so voicing a refusal wasn’t that hard after all, and the outcome wasn’t necessarily bad.
With that in mind, he looked at Chi Mo again.
It was this person who had taught him to refuse.
Seeing Li Ran eat happily, Chi Mo fetched more from the car, all with the freshest dates. After handing them over, he instructed him that chocolates just needed to be stored in a cool place, and if putting them in the fridge, to pay attention to the method.
Before they each headed home, Li Ran asked, “Mr. Chi… can I give some of the chocolates to my deskmate tomorrow?”
Understanding dawned on Chi Mo’s face, but he still asked, “Why?”
“He gave me snacks last time…”
“Repay him with chocolate?”
It was always borrowing flowers to offer to Buddha, and Li Ran felt embarrassed. “Mm.”
“You can.” Chi Mo said generously.
But not generously enough: “Only one, though.”
Precisely because Chi Mo had given him sweet chocolates, when Li Ran ran into him that morning, he dared to give him the four leftover egg whites.
He couldn’t finish them himself, so he could give them to Chi Mo—no waste.
While the teacher lectured on the test papers up front, Li Ran’s thoughts had already wandered far away.
The day passed in a flash, and evening at six o’clock arrived as scheduled. As Li Ran biked home, the sun sank slowly in the west, with fiery clouds painting half the city like melted orange cream.
He braked to a stop, pulled out his phone to take a photo, and sent it straight from the camera to Chi Mo.
Li Ran: [Image]
Li Ran: [Mr. Chi, the sky looks nice, right?]
Chi Mo sent back a nearly identical photo, though taken from a rooftop, seeming even closer to the sky.
Chi Mo: [Image]
Chi Mo: [Li Ran, nice.]
Li Ran stared at the reply, knowing Chi Mo meant the scenery was nice, but without the noun, it felt weird.
“Buzz, buzz.”
Two messages came in from the contact saved as “Dad.”
Li Ran immediately tapped to view them.
Li Ang said: [Xiao Ran, I’m off this weekend. Come eat at my place.]
[I called your mom ahead of time, and she agreed you can come over.]
Li Ang sent another: [Your Uncle Pei will be out of town on a business trip these next couple days, not home.]
