After leaving the private screening room, Zhou Ruo An turned into a narrow alley, took out his phone, opened a chat window, and transferred five thousand yuan.
He glanced back toward the alley entrance. Seeing the narrow lane empty, he pressed the voice-message button. “The number is real. I’ve sent you the remaining balance. But you’d better let this rot in your stomach. Don’t go running your mouth after a few drinks.”
The other party accepted the payment instantly, and a lazy male voice came through. “You don’t need to tell me that. Reselling the number of Bai Jiu’s chief steward—if word gets out, they’ll skin me alive.”
The man sounded as if he had been drinking, his tongue thick and clumsy. “Zhou’er, a small-time scammer at your level—what do you need their chief steward’s number for? There are mountains between you and him. Don’t overestimate yourself.”
Zhou Ruo An had no interest in wasting words with him. He cut the call off over the man’s trailing voice, then walked a few steps deeper into the alley and pushed open a gaudy door.
A small hair salon. Colored lights spun at the entrance. As soon as the door opened, cold wind slipped in through the gap. The women inside wore little and showed plenty; one shivered, then swayed her hips as she walked toward the door.
“Well, if it isn’t Handsome Zhou?” The woman tugged her shawl aside, revealing rounded shoulders. “So today, which head are you looking to take care of…?” Her gaze gradually drifted downward.
Zhou Ruo An had a refined, almost scholarly face, but his eyes hooked like barbs as he looked the woman up and down. Smiling, he said, “Can we go to your place? I don’t want to stay outside.”
“Of course.” The woman picked up a fox-fur coat hanging behind the door. “I’ve been craving a taste of you for a long time, little brother. Finally figured things out, have you?”
Zhou Ruo An thoughtfully helped her into the coat, then leaned close to those golden earrings and blew softly into her ear. “It’s not too late now, is it?”
The woman’s fine brows lifted as she hooked a finger under Zhou Ruo An’s chin. “Darling, with a face like yours, from now on, everything you say is right.”
Bodies pressed close, flesh against flesh, the woman nestled into Zhou Ruo An’s arms as they walked through the long, narrow alley. The winter sun was pale, its light thin and dull. Even a face wearing a full ten parts of a smile would have three parts of warmth stripped away beneath it.
When Zhou Ruo An saw Lin Yi, he was standing at the alley entrance in a spot sheltered from the wind and facing the sunlight, his expression blank as a dead man’s face.
“Waiting for me?” Zhou Ruo An asked.
Earlier, the two of them had watched the recording and parted ways outside the shop, each going home. Before leaving, Zhou Ruo An had even glanced at Lin Yi’s crotch. It looked no different from usual—calm and quiet.
At the time, Zhou Ruo An had wanted to make some cheap joke, but then his own legs clenched together as he realized his own thing had not reacted either. While watching the movie, he had thought about Zhang Jin more often than about that sort of thing. No wonder there had been no response.
Lin Yi’s gaze first scraped over the woman, then over the two bodies leaning together, before finally landing on Zhou Ruo An’s face.
“I wasn’t waiting for you. Just standing here out of the wind for a smoke.”
They were only a few steps apart. By the time the words were spoken, they had already reached each other. The alley was narrow, and Zhou Ruo An brushed past Lin Yi’s shoulder as he went by. As they crossed, he said softly, “Then I’ll head back first.”
The other party said nothing, and his fingers were empty too—no cigarette between them. Zhou Ruo An glanced back and felt that winter truly was desolate. Even someone like Lin Yi, who carried a natural air of menace, seemed now to have a trace of loneliness about him.
The woman also looked back, her gaze sticking to that tall figure. “I heard you and Lin Yi are close. Introduce him to me sometime. If he comes, I’d even take a loss.”
Zhou Ruo An said, “Huh?” Then he laughed and asked, “Why the special treatment?”
The woman turned back, giggling. “I’m craving his body. And he looks like the type who won’t budge no matter what, so of course I’d treat him better.”
Zhou Ruo An thought again of Lin Yi’s state just now and mused inwardly, Craving him is useless. It’s just for show.
The two of them went inside, and Zhou Ruo An shut off the light with a snap.
Before the woman could ask, he explained, “It’s more atmospheric this way. I like it.”
They stumbled into the bedroom in an embrace. The woman was pushed onto the bed. After a flurry of rustling sounds, she suddenly let out a sharp scream.
Then came the sound of someone tumbling off the bed, followed by hurried footsteps scrambling out of the bedroom in the dark.
Amid the scattered noise came a helpless sigh. Then the living room light was slapped on.
Under the sudden brightness, Zhou Ruo An stood by the entrance door, arms folded across his chest, fully dressed and leaning against the wall.
Using the light from the living room, the woman glanced back at the bedroom. Then she rushed over in a few quick steps, raised her hand, and slapped Zhou Ruo An hard across the face. “You bastard Zhou, what the hell were you thinking, tricking me into sleeping with someone who’s practically dying?”
Ever since Lin Yi had been backing him, Zhou Ruo An had not taken punches, kicks, or slaps in a long time. He touched his cheek and began apologizing. “Sorry, sis. My brother only had this one wish. He came to me begging, so I couldn’t exactly turn him down, right?”
“So for the sake of helping this brother of yours, you don’t care what happens to your brother downstairs?”
The woman abruptly raised her knee and drove it hard between Zhou Ruo An’s legs.
“Fuck.” Zhou Ruo An’s vision went black from the pain, and cold sweat suddenly broke out all over him. He bent his knees, folded at the waist, and braced one arm against the wall.
“Pay up.” The woman pulled up her payment QR code and shoved it in Zhou Ruo An’s face. “Two thousand.”
Zhou Ruo An was usually the one shoving his payment QR code in other people’s faces. Now that he had suffered through it himself, he did not feel cheated. It was what he deserved.
After he paid, the old door slammed shut loudly enough to shake the walls. Once the first wave of pain had passed, Zhou Ruo An dragged a chair over and slowly sat down beside Zhang Jin’s bed.
“How did she find out?” The man who had just had his family jewels nearly crushed sounded somewhat irritated. “Didn’t I tell you to wear a few more layers up top, to look a bit fuller?”
Zhang Jin lay on the bed, his eyes staring straight at the ceiling. There was lipstick smeared at the corner of his mouth; at a glance, he looked like a vengeful ghost with its tongue hanging out.
Zhou Ruo An let some of his temper go and awkwardly asked the person on the bed, “So… just now, did you get any taste of sweetness?”
Zhang Jin’s eyelashes seemed to move, then seemed not to. He remained in that same position the entire time. Just when Zhou Ruo An thought he would not answer, he spoke again. “With this body of mine… it’s already ruined.”
Zhou Ruo An’s brows only furrowed for an instant before smoothing out. He fished out a pack of cigarettes and asked casually, “Want a cigarette, or a drink?”
“I know what the truth is,” Zhang Jin suddenly said.
The fingers gripping the cigarette pack tightened. Zhou Ruo An slowly looked at the thin, narrow person on the bed. He did indeed have something he had hidden from Zhang Jin: the true cause of Zhang Yu Ting’s death had actually been nothing more than an accident.
The cigarette pack crinkled softly in his hand. Zhou Ruo An asked in a low voice, “What do you know?”
Zhang Jin struggled to sit up, half-reclining against the headboard. He turned the desk lamp to its brightest setting, then twisted the lamp head around to shine directly at Zhou Ruo An.
“The truth is, if I give you my identity and let you become the Zhou family’s young master, when that time comes, you won’t keep your promise and take revenge for me. You’ll only enjoy the pleasure of standing high above, looking down on the people beneath your feet.”
Zhang Jin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Zhou Ruo An, you’re a petty little man. By then, you’ll even forget I existed, let alone any promise.”
“I’ll remember…”
“You won’t!”
Zhang Jin somehow gathered a burst of strength from nowhere and suddenly grabbed Zhou Ruo An by the collar, dragging him right in front of him. “I’ve seen that face of yours breaking promises too many times. I’ve seen the most garbage, most despicable side of you.”
Zhang Jin’s fingers, like dried branches, twisted into Zhou Ruo An’s collar as he ordered him, “Take out your phone.”
Zhou Ruo An’s expression darkened. “What are you doing?”
“Take it out!”
Zhang Jin was hysterical; the blood vessels in his eyes had spread until they nearly covered them completely. Zhou Ruo An stared at those eyes for a while, then took out his phone.
“Pull up your payment QR code.”
“…”
The chaotic black-and-white QR code reflected in those blood-red eyes. Zhang Jin released one hand, picked up his own phone, and scanned the code with a soft ding.
The next moment, Zhou Ruo An received a payment of 15.86 yuan. Looking at that uneven amount, he asked, “What is this supposed to mean?”
Zhang Jin seemed to have used up all his strength. He released Zhou Ruo An and collapsed back onto the bed. “That’s all the money I had left after buying my grave. Now it’s all yours.”
Zhou Ruo An tugged at the corner of his mouth. “An inheritance? No need.”
“It’s not a gift.” Zhang Jin stared into Zhou Ruo An’s eyes. “It’s a transaction.”
“You take my money, so you have to do something for me. I can cooperate and help you become the Zhou family’s young master, but you have to complete our transaction. Either scam those people out of all their money and trample them underfoot, or give each of them a packet of rat poison and send them down to meet me.”
“Zhang Jin…”
The sickly man slowly lay back down on the bed. Even his lips seemed to have no strength left to move; his voice could only slip out faintly. “Although I’ve seen that face of yours breaking promises too many times, I’ve also seen you search for a blind old woman’s cat in the dead of winter for a five-yuan deal. You found the cat, and nearly froze to death yourself.”
Zhang Jin laughed softly. “But afterward, you swiped two eggs from the old woman, boiled them, ate them right in front of me, and even fucking smacked your lips.”
He slowly turned over, facing away from Zhou Ruo An. “I don’t trust your character, but I trust your business sense. Miss one job, stay poor for life.”
Zhou Ruo An’s brows tightened slightly. He slowly drew a cigarette from the crumpled pack, lit it, and took slow drags, swallowing and exhaling at an unhurried pace. After thinking for a long while, he pressed the half-smoked cigarette against Zhang Jin’s broken alarm clock.
“Deal,” he said, then added, “But you also know I’m just a rat in the gutter. Whether I can stir up trouble in a different environment is hard to say. Still, I’ll do my best and try. If I fail, I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Don’t look down on yourself. No matter where you are, you’ll still be scum.”
Zhou Ruo An laughed and cursed, “Fuck.” Then he turned off the desk lamp and headed outside. Just as he reached the bedroom door, he heard a ghostlike voice behind him.
“Zhou Ruo An, if it were you, would you forgive Zhang Yu Ting?”
The man who had been called to a stop fell silent for a moment, then answered clearly, “No. I would never forgive someone who abandoned me.”
The door closed, cutting off all sources of light.
＊
Half a month later, Zhang Jin passed away.
The grave he had bought was very far away, surrounded front and back by farmland, with no scenery to speak of.
The photograph on his tombstone showed him smiling, flesh on his cheeks, nothing like that skeletal face he had at the end.
Zhou Ruo An tossed two beautiful paper effigies into the incinerator. Then, dusting the ash from his clothes, he dropped heavily onto Zhang Jin’s grave. Leaning against the stone behind him, he dialed a number.
“Who is this?”
The call connected, and a deep, mature male voice scattered into the cold wind blowing through the cemetery. Zhou Ruo An tilted his head, looked at the photograph on the tombstone, and said calmly, “Mr. Zhou Jing Tao, is it? I’m Zhang Yu Ting’s son… Zhou Ruo An.”