New Year’s Eve saw Fang Hongqing’s return, his young, newlywed wife in tow. The pretty woman wore heavy eye makeup, and her figure still showed the recent effects of childbirth. A nursing baby boy rested in her arms.
Fang Li’s mother, Li Wenling, also emerged from the back seat of the Buick. She lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag, clearly reluctant to step into this rural home.
“Mom,” Fang Li called out.
Li Wenling exhaled a plume of smoke without so much as a glance, her eyes fixed on the young woman with a sharp look. “Don’t call me that. You’re getting a new mother. She’s over there.”
“It’s New Year’s Eve—cut the damn drama!” Fang Hongqing barked. “You stupid bitch, do you even know how much money you’ve gambled away? Just you wait, I’ll deal with you after the holidays!”
Li Wenling’s temper flared instantly. Soon, she and Fang Hongqing were yelling and cursing at each other right there in the yard, jabbing fingers inches from each other’s faces.
Fang Li was long accustomed to such scenes. He walked around to the back of the Buick, where Qin Weidong was unloading New Year’s goods from the trunk.
This year, Fang Hongqing had brought less than usual—just a few boxes of fruit and roast chicken and goose from city shops. Qin Weidong stacked the boxes and carried them, and when Fang Li peeked inside, he spotted several strings of air-dried sausages.
“Smells amazing. I’m starving, Qin Weidong.”
In the countryside, this much meat only appeared during the New Year. Qin Weidong motioned for him to take one, and the two of them carried the food to the small kitchen in the backyard.
Inside, Qin Weidong was slicing sausage at the counter. Fang Li reached out and grabbed some, quickly devouring seven or eight slices. When he reached for more, Qin Weidong shot him a warning look. “That’s enough. These are salty—if you eat too much, you’ll upset your stomach.”
“It’s not every day I get to eat this kind of meat. I’m having a few more.”
Fang Li ignored him, slipped past his hand, and popped another slice into his mouth. Just as he bit down, Qin Weidong set down the knife and intercepted the piece mid-bite.
Not just the unchewed part—he even reached into Fang Li’s damp mouth, pried his molars apart with two fingers, and pulled out the chewed half too.
“Go set the table. Call your grandma out to eat.”
Mouth now empty again, Fang Li glared at him, fuming. Damn this man, seriously heartless. He stomped off to the east room to find his grandma.
Before long, word spread throughout the town that Fang Hongqing had driven home.
Soon, the workers demanding their unpaid wages were gathered outside the house. Fang Hongqing greeted them, explaining that the mine he was running in Xuxi had all its funds tied up in newly purchased equipment.
So that’s why he couldn’t pay the workers yet. But he swore he wouldn’t short anyone a single cent. Once the holiday was over, he said, he’d bring everyone to the new mine to start fresh.
The workers weren’t convinced. They shouted that he needed to pay them now.
Fang Hongqing climbed onto a stool and pulled a thick stack of red envelopes from his leather bag, handing them out to the workers. When they opened them, each contained a single red 100 yuan bill. As he handed them out, he apologized for ruining everyone’s New Year and promised that on the fifth day of the lunar year, once work resumed, he’d give everyone a two-thousand-yuan red envelope as compensation.
When the workers heard they just had to wait six more days to get two grand, there were all kinds of reactions. Master Yang, who had taken the lead, huddled with a few others, and they ended up getting Fang Hongqing to write out IOUs for 22,000 yuan in wages per person, complete with his signature and red thumbprint. By the time everything was sorted, the sun was already starting to set. Only then did the workers leave, holding the IOUs in hand.
Fang Li did a quick mental calculation. “That’s over ten grand out the door again. Do you think my dad really is running a mine in Xuxi? That’s a lot to be giving away.”
Qin Weidong kept washing dishes without commenting.
Fang Li pressed, “Be honest with me—are you planning to quit working for my dad?”
Qin Weidong neither nodded nor shook his head.
Fang Li stared him down. “Then why won’t you just tell me the truth?” He pinched a roll of soft flesh at Qin Weidong’s waist. “So now you’re hiding things from me? And it’s something this big?”
Fang Li didn’t know how to go easy. Qin Weidong winced and looked down at the fingers pinching him—slender, pale, and delicate—but said nothing.
“I’m not sure,” he finally said. “But for the past six months, neither the public nor private accounts have balanced. Your dad fired Accountant Li. He told me your dad’s been using company funds to gamble on jade stones.”
“Gamble on stones? What’s that?”
The water in the basin was freezing cold in winter. Fang Li ended up standing beside Qin Weidong, and the icy spray from the running tap soaked the cotton lining of his coat. Qin Weidong warned him, “Stand back a little.”
“If I stand back, I won’t hear what you’re saying! Just tell me—what does gambling on stones mean?”
Fang Li pestered him, circling around to the other side of the basin, waiting to hear more.
“It’s gambling, but with stones.”
“That explains nothing.” Fang Li propped his chin on his hand. “How expensive can a damn rock be?”
“Tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Sometimes even more.”
“Seriously? That expensive?” Fang Li was stunned. “So what about my dad? How much has he gambled?”
Qin Weidong thought for a second, then shook his head. “I don’t know.”
He had asked the dismissed accountant Li, but Li refused to say much—only told him not to work under Fang Hongqing anymore. If he could leave, he should do it quickly. From the sound of it, the amount involved wasn’t small. Judging by all this, it was likely that even the company’s accounts in the city had been drained.
He didn’t want Fang Li to worry about any of that.
That night was New Year’s Eve. Firecrackers were going off door to door, deafeningly loud. That was always the way it was in Chongsi Town—every time a mine opened, firecrackers; when one closed, firecrackers; if they struck ore, they celebrated with firecrackers, and even if they didn’t, they lit them anyway to ward off bad luck.
The air was thick with the sharp, acrid smell of sulfur.
Fang Hongqing had taken his young mistress out to a restaurant in town. Qin Weidong brought a hunting rifle to stand guard at the mine. Li Wenling had gathered a few women to play mahjong in the west wing, going well past midnight. Fang Li couldn’t sleep—between the fireworks and the clacking tiles next door, it was impossible. He got up to use the bathroom and happened to run into Li Wenling, who had just lost money and came outside cursing under her breath to have a smoke.
“Fang Li! Go get me a lighter!”
The curtain at the door lifted, releasing a thick puff of smoke. What kind of damn New Year’s Eve was this? Fang Li was irritated. He turned to the small kitchen, grabbed a box of matches off the stove, and tossed it to her.
“Cut back on smoking, would you? You’ve still got lungs to think about.”
Li Wenling had a small hair salon in the county. She’d picked up smoking when she was fifteen or sixteen, taught by her first boss after she started working. She’d never quit since. She brushed back her frizzy curls and motioned for Fang Li to come over.
“What do you know? Out so late—where’ve you been running around? And why haven’t I seen you go to school?”
Fang Li rolled his eyes. “It’s winter break, Mom. School starts after the holiday. You ever see anyone go to school during Chinese New Year?”
Li Wenling hadn’t even finished elementary school. She didn’t understand any of that. Back when she was a young shampoo girl, she’d gotten together with Fang Hongqing and gave birth to Fang Li. She’d thought having a son would be her ticket to a better life, but Fang Hongqing never married her, and because his mother doted on Fang Li, she wasn’t allowed to raise him herself. Because of that, she and Fang Li never developed a strong mother-son bond.
Fang Li didn’t have much to say to her. He turned to leave, but then he saw a patch of bruised purple skin peeking from her sleeve. He grabbed her wrist. “What happened? Who hit you?!”
Li Wenling tugged her sleeve down. “Fell, that’s all. Can’t count on that bastard Fang Hongqing. So I found someone else—an American. He’s got a passport and everything.”
“I don’t care if he’s American or Chinese—nobody should be hitting their wife! Where else did he hit you?”
Fang Li reached to pull up her sleeve, but Li Wenling grabbed his hand and yanked it away. “Mind your own business. You’re starting senior year after the New Year, right? I think it’s senior year. If things work out with this man, I’ll take you to the U.S. next year for school.”
The moment he heard “America,” the first thing Fang Li thought about wasn’t where it was, but that going there would mean being separated from Qin Weidong.
“I’m not going. I’m staying here in Chongsi, with Grandma.”
“You idiot. If you stay in a backwater like this all your life, you’ll never amount to anything.”
Li Wenling laughed, thinking her son was still too young and naive. She stubbed out her cigarette. “Go on, get back to bed. I’m leaving tomorrow—don’t want to see that little slut gloating. After the New Year, wait for my call.”
During the first half of the night, the sound of mahjong tiles clacking went on nonstop. In the second half, Fang Hongqing came back with his young mistress. The woman made a ruckus drawing water and boiling it to take a bath, stirring up so much noise that Fang Li didn’t sleep a wink all night.
When Qin Weidong got home, he found Fang Li completely cocooned under the blanket, even his head buried deep inside.
Worried he might not be able to breathe, Qin Weidong gently tugged the covers down a little. That set Fang Li off like a lit fuse—he sat up, eyes blazing, and flung a pillow at him. “You’re so annoying, Qin Weidong! I’m tired!”
Qin Weidong took the hit, picked up the fallen pillow, dusted it off, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
As soon as he did, Fang Li reached out from under the covers with two smooth, snake-like arms and wrapped them around Qin Weidong’s waist. Then he pressed his little face against the belt exposed under Qin Weidong’s short jacket, on the verge of tears. “You weren’t here last night and they were so noisy—so noisy! I couldn’t sleep at all. My head hurts from how tired I am.”
Qin Weidong set his chin on Fang Li’s leg and gently massaged his temples. “Then I’ll stay with you and sleep a little longer, okay?”
“Mhm…” Fang Li nodded. Once Qin Weidong had taken off his cold outer clothes and climbed into bed to hold him, Fang Li shifted uncomfortably, squirming under the tight grip around his waist. “You’re squeezing too hard… it hurts.”
Qin Weidong loosened his arms a bit, though not much. “Go to sleep.”
Fang Li shifted again. “It really hurts… You always grab me like this when you sleep, and then you don’t even know once you’re out…”
“Such a baby.” Qin Weidong opened his eyes again, scolded him softly, and shifted to the side, making space for Fang Li to sit up. Fang Li climbed up, shifted higher, and settled on Qin Weidong’s chest, lying on top of him.
Qin Weidong was more solidly built—broader chest, stronger shoulders, and his body ran warmer. Hugging him in the winter was like holding onto a heater.
Fang Li, drowsy now, gently touched the bluish shadows under Qin Weidong’s eyes. “You didn’t sleep well at the mine either… Let’s sleep till afternoon, okay? I don’t want to go visiting relatives anyway…”
His dad was out flaunting a girl young enough to be his daughter—what a disgrace.
“I need to run into the county in the afternoon,” Qin Weidong murmured, keeping the time in mind. He lowered his head and brushed Fang Li’s bangs aside, kissing his smooth forehead. “Be good. I’ll bring you some chocolate when I get back.”
Axolotl Translations 
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