Chapter 29

It took some effort to pry Xiao Yu’s fingers loose. Ai Qing towed her to the sofa and planted her there.

Without Ai Qing’s arm, Xiao Yu still couldn’t walk steadily; she could only sit and watch him walk away.

He opened the front door and greeted Xiao Youqian at once: “Sis Qian, sorry to keep you—let’s go.”

“Mm.” She nodded, peering past him. “Where’s Xiao Yu? Didn’t see her.”

“Ah... she’s playing in the living room—leave her be.” Ai Qing guiltily blocked the view, slipped outside and pulled the door shut.

If Sis Qian caught sight of Xiao Yu in human form—and that outfit she was wearing—her imagination would stage an entire soap opera.

...

Jinpan Yunting’s South District felt livelier than the North, which had only been finished a couple of years earlier.

Enter the compound at dusk and you’d meet grandpas, grandmas, kids, and white-collar parents all streaming in and out.

Two streets west lay the local 5th Primary; one more block and you hit No. 2 Middle.

Calling it a “school-zone estate” was fair.

Right now the primary school had just disgorged its pupils, and the little invaders were storming the gates.

Most families here had once belonged to the same village; everyone knew everyone, so greetings flew back and forth.

When an elder recognised Ai Qing and Xiao Youqian, the pair had to stop and return the courtesy.

“So where’s Guigui?” Ai Qing asked, glancing round. “Thought we were meeting at the gate?”

“Got drafted to pick up his little brother at the last minute,” she said, checking her phone. “Told us to give him a few.”

With time to kill they wandered to the pocket park in the middle of the estate and spotted, in the nearby pavilion, Ai Lisong locked in a chess match.

“Isn’t that Grandpa Ai?” Xiao Youqian’s sharp eyes found him first; she elbowed Ai Qing.

Ai Qing strolled over and parked himself behind his grandpa.

The opponent still had a chariot, a horse, a cannon; Grandpa Ai was down to two chariots—looked sticky.

“If that chariot doesn’t come back you’re dead. He’ll drop the horse here and block the lane—then it’s too late,” Ai Qing murmured.

“Quit rushing me, I see it.” Grandpa Ai’s whole brain was on the board; noticing the enemy horse was lethal, he yanked the chariot home.

The rival grandpa knew Ai Qing. With his next few moves exposed, he looked up and chuckled: “Ganging up, grandpa-and-grandson tag-team?”

“Hm?” Only then did Ai Lisong realise the kibitzer was his own flesh and blood. “You little rascal, what brings you here?”

“Meeting Guigui for dinner. Sis Qian and I are waiting.” Ai Qing grinned. “What about you? Where’s the supermarket?”

“Your grandma’s watching it—what else can she do?” Grandpa Ai puffed his moustache. “Now hush, or he’ll claim I win unfairly.”

Ai Qing left him to it and sat with Xiao Youqian on the pavilion bench.

Outside, a small pond; inside, two old men hunched over a board while a ring of retirees offered running commentary.

The setting sun slipped behind high-rises; sliced by concrete, its glow lay in bars across the water.

A lazy kitty yawned on a stone by the pond.

Sheriff—black back, snow-white belly—ambled into the pavilion, spotted a familiar face and hopped onto the seat beside Ai Qing.

Ai Qing scratched the cat’s head, then his chin.

Xiao Youqian laughed. “Careful Xiao Yu smells another cat on you when you get home—she’ll sulk.”

“Nah, she’s easy-going.”

“Sure she is. Last time she butted Vera out of the way so you couldn’t pet her.”

“That was just horseplay.” Ai Qing shook his head in Xiao Yu’s defence.

They were still chatting when Kong Fugui finally showed.

“Here you are.” He greeted Grandpa Ai first, then turned to them. “Come on, let’s find Lao Wu.”

“Got your brother?”

“Dropped him home already.”

“Already? I wanted to ask him something.”

Kong Fugui blinked. “What d’you want with my kid brother?”

“He’s still in primary, right? Does he still have his grade-one to grade-four textbooks? I need to borrow them.”

“Why?”

“Novel research.” Ai Qing produced his all-purpose excuse.

Xiao Youqian frowned. “What kind of novel needs primary-school textbooks?”

“My protagonist has a little brother. I’m writing a tutoring scene—need reference material.”

“Fine, I’ll ask. Mum probably kept them.” Kong Fugui shrugged, then hustled: “Move it—let’s fetch Lao Wu.”

...

Wu Yong had been Ai Qing’s closest friend through childhood and school—just like Kong Fugui.

And just like Kong, his grades had stunk.

But while Kong’s family was comfortable, Wu’s had struggled; his father, a firefighter, had died in a blaze long before the area was redeveloped.

From primary school on, Wu’s mother raised him alone.

He bombed the college-entrance exam and enlisted.

Recently injured, he’d been discharged; healed now, everyday life was fine, but high-intensity training was out.

So he was back home, waiting for the government to assign a civilian post.

“My second-last boyfriend was army too,” Xiao Youqian said, clicking her seat-belt in Kong Fugui’s passenger seat. “Got transferred last year—relationship over. If Xiao Wu doesn’t mind an older woman, you could introduce us.”

“Even rabbits don’t graze beside their burrows.” Kong Fugui steered, chuckling. “Give it a rest, Sis Qian—stop hunting our Lao Wu.”

“Hmph, who asked you?” She rolled her eyes, then sniffed. “Your girlfriend’s perfume is decent—way better than the last one’s.”

“What about you?” Kong Fugui drove toward Wu’s place. “How long since the last break-up? Still single?”

“Into older guys lately, but most are greasy. A charming older man is hard to find.” She flipped the sun-visor down and checked her hair.

In the back seat, Ai Qing listened to the two sea-kings trade lines, unable to get a word in—until his phone rang.

He glanced down.

Caller: “Xiao Yu”

Ai Qing: “...?”

What the hell?

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