The admissions office occupied a small storefront squeezed right beside the factory gates. Inside, two staff members sat cracking sunflower seeds, the rhythmic clicks echoing in the dimly lit space. They’d only pulled the metal shutter halfway down, a futile attempt to block the harsh sunlight, leaving the room in a perpetual twilight.
Fang Li stepped inside and inquired about enrollment. The person in charge greeted him with a friendly air, his initial question being about who had referred him. Fang Li shook his head, explaining he’d come on his own.
The man’s smile visibly diminished. Leaning back in his chair, he stated, “If you were a factory worker, the tuition would be halved. Otherwise, it’s 120 yuan per semester. And space is limited—once a class is full, we don’t take any more students. First come, first served.”
“How long do the classes run?” Fang Li asked.
“That depends on what you study. The fastest programs take about six months. Slower ones might take a year. After graduation, you can find work. Electricians, welders—those are quick to learn and easy to get hired. A lot of factories are hiring right now. If you want something with better conditions, like accounting or cashier jobs, those are office positions, and they’re hiring too. Do well, and you can earn your tuition back in a month.”
The recruiter spoke with an almost evangelical fervor, leaving Fang Li to wonder if a commission was involved for each new student enrolled.
“Do you issue a diploma after graduation?” Fang Li inquired.
“Of course.”
“What kind of diploma?”
The man clearly hadn’t expected the young-looking Fang Li to be so serious. His smile faded further, and with a hint of impatience, he pulled a sample diploma from the drawer and laid it on the desk. “This is what we give.”
Fang Li examined it. The title read “Changding Vocational and Technical School,” but the stamps at the bottom bore the names “Kaimai Garment Factory” and something called “Chaoyang Something Corporation.”
“Is this issued by the school, or by the factory?”
The recruiter shot him a sharp look, snatching the certificate back. “This is a joint education program. Do you even know what that means? It’s a collaboration between our company, the factory, and the school. We have contracts. This is what you get. If you want some official school diploma, go take an entrance exam. Ours is for people who want to make money.”
Fang Li hesitated. He didn’t fully grasp the intricacies of this arrangement, but a nagging feeling told him that a diploma should come from the school itself, not a company.
“So are you signing up or not? We still need to grab lunch.”
“Sorry… I’ll think about it.”
The man retrieved the shop key from the drawer and snorted derisively. “No money, no problem, but still dreaming of some fancy official diploma? You’re living in a fantasy.”
Fang Li had already turned to leave, his face burning with embarrassment at the man’s parting words.
The truth was, his father still owed the factory workers over 200,000 yuan. Fang Li himself possessed no official employment record, no school transcript, not even a proper legal identity. The mere fact that he stood there now, safe and sound—not already hauled off to some black-market coal mine with his limbs mangled—was solely due to Qin Weidong risking his own life to pull him out. Pure, dumb luck.
Fang Li clenched his teeth and turned back. “How much is it if I sign up for accounting?”
“The accounting teacher charges more. Tuition’s thirty yuan higher—150 yuan a semester. That doesn’t include books or housing.”
A hundred and fifty… That was half a month’s salary for an average family in the city. And that didn’t even factor in the extra miscellaneous costs—books, meals, toiletries, living expenses…
The recruiter, key in hand, was just about to lock up. Seeing Fang Li still lingering, he asked impatiently, “We’re closing up for lunch. You’ve been asking questions forever—are you signing up or not?”
Fang Li replied, “Thanks. I need to think about it.”
The man waved him off dismissively and locked the door without another word.
It was noon, and the sun beat down relentlessly. Sweat broke out on Fang Li’s forehead. He took off his jacket and carried it in his hand as he walked towards the bus stop.
Paying for school presented a formidable obstacle. Honestly, it wasn’t as if studying was a necessity. But given his physical condition, he couldn’t endure hard labor. If he went to a mine, his pay would depend entirely on his output. How long would it take him to save enough to free Qin Weidong from having to work in those dangerous depths?
As for asking Feng Hui to cover his tuition…
Fang Li shook his head. The thought had never seriously taken root in his mind. If Qin Weidong ever found out, there would be hell to pay. In that regard, Fang Li held a genuine fear of him.
He squatted on the curb, worry etched deeply on his face. When his legs grew numb, he stood up and began pacing near the bus station.
A cluster of small shops lined the area—mostly selling trinkets and cheap goods. Fang Li wandered aimlessly for the entire afternoon, yet no opportunity presented itself. Even considering starting a small business, from sourcing inventory to selling it, even just securing a stall—none of it was a simple undertaking. Defeated, he slumped down on a set of steps.
Nineteen years old, and he lacked a single useful skill. A complete failure. Since leaving the Fang family, Qin Weidong, drawing on his mining experience, had managed to forge a path forward. But Fang Li? He knew absolutely nothing about that world. Starting a small business? He was utterly clueless.
Useless. That’s what he was.
As dusk began to settle, Fang Li drifted past a street vendor’s stall and noticed a silver harmonica.
“Boss, how much for this?”
“Twenty. But I’m about to pack up—if you really want it, take it for fifteen.”
Fang Li didn’t even need to check his pockets to know he was short. Still, his gaze lingered on the harmonica for a few more moments. If none of this had happened, maybe he’d still be taking music lessons from city teachers.
He shook his head, a faint pang of regret in his chest, and caught the last delayed bus heading home.
Most of the passengers on that route were workers from Xiahe. Half the seats remained empty, yet two middle-aged men chose to squat in the center aisle. Their necks appeared thin and parched, the skin stretched taut over their bones. They drew each breath with visible effort, as if trying to force a little more air into their heavy, congested lungs.
Fang Li noticed the bags of medicine clutched in their hands. A moment later, he turned his gaze away, his thoughts already elsewhere. As he arrived at the mine, a floodlight suddenly blazed in his face, momentarily blinding him. He raised a hand to shield his eyes and heard someone shout from the distance, “Hey! Weidong’s little brother—he’s looking for you!”
Before Fang Li could respond, a hand clamped onto his arm, the grip tight and painful.
“Fang Li! Where the hell did you go?!”
Qin Weidong ripped off his helmet, his forehead glistening with sweat in the harsh light. He spat the words out, yanking Fang Li into the room and slamming the door shut with a resounding bang.
Fang Li stumbled from the unexpected force, nearly losing his balance. “What the hell is your problem? That hurt!”
“Hurt? I ought to—!”
Qin Weidong raised his hand abruptly. Fang Li flinched, his eyes snapping shut in an instinctive, physical reaction. But he quickly lifted his head again, glaring back at Qin Weidong with defiance. “What, you gonna hit me? You high or something?! Try it!”
Qin Weidong’s jaw clenched, his eyes sharp and dangerous, like those of a wild animal teetering on the brink of rage.
A flicker of fear crossed Fang Li’s mind—but it was fleeting. He wrenched his arm free with all the strength he could muster and shouted, “What the hell is wrong with you?! You nearly crushed my bones!”
Qin Weidong stared at his now-empty hand. He was afraid of actually hurting Fang Li, which prevented him from using his full strength. Fang Li mistook this hesitation for weakness and struggled even harder, finally breaking free.
Seeing this, the fury inside Qin Weidong erupted like dry grass catching fire. He lunged forward and seized Fang Li by the jaw.
“You really want to leave me that badly?!”
“What the hell are you talking about?! I left you a note!”
Fang Li found himself pressed against the cold wall, his jaw held in a vise-like grip. A quick glance to the side revealed the crumpled note he had left about night school—now discarded on the floor like a piece of trash.
“Say it—say you’re not going.”
Qin Weidong’s voice carried the weight of a direct order.
Fang Li twisted his neck and jaw, his chin throbbing from Qin Weidong’s brutal grip. A wave of regret washed over him—regret for skipping those extra bowls of rice back in the day. Damn it, Qin Weidong was strong as an ox. There was no way he could break free on his own.
“Let go of me!”
“No.”
Fang Li didn’t hesitate. He lifted his leg and delivered a sharp kick to Qin Weidong’s shin. The flesh there was relatively unprotected—Qin Weidong winced in pain, his grip finally loosening.
Seizing the opportunity, Fang Li ducked away. Rubbing his now-tender chin, still seething with anger, he reached out and smacked Qin Weidong across the head and face. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Are you some kind of rabid dog?! Trying to strangle me?!”
Qin Weidong just stared at him, his gaze intense. The moment Fang Li took a step, Qin Weidong shifted, looking like a predator about to spring. Fang Li snapped, “I’m going to get some water, damn it!”
Even after he’d spoken, Qin Weidong’s eyes remained fixed on him. Fang Li couldn’t be bothered with further curses. He grabbed the thermos from the table, poured himself a cup, and gulped it down, his throat parched.
Once he had calmed down and quenched his thirst, Fang Li wiped his mouth, sank onto the stool, and gingerly touched the area near his jaw. Even a light press sent a jolt of pain—it was likely already bruising.
“Look what you did to me!”
Qin Weidong glanced over. Fang Li’s skin was smooth and fair, and sure enough, near the bottom of his cheek were two distinct bluish finger marks—remarkably symmetrical.
At the sight of those marks, Qin Weidong’s anger seemed to dissipate instantly.
The more Fang Li considered it, the more his own anger flared. He yelled across the room, “You think you can see it from all the way over there? Get your ass over here! Come look at what you did!”
When Fang Li yelled, it was never just empty noise. When he got mad, he truly hit, kicked, and punched—a pattern that stretched back to their childhood. Qin Weidong hesitated for a couple of seconds, then reluctantly walked over. The moment he was within reach, Fang Li landed a solid smack right on his head.
“That freakin’ hurt!”
Qin Weidong’s head snapped to the side from the force of the slap. He hated it when Fang Li hit him like that, especially on the head, but seeing the purplish bruise blooming on Fang Li’s cheek, he slowly turned back and gently tilted Fang Li’s face upward, his eyes intent on the mark.
Fang Li hissed softly in pain, and Qin Weidong murmured, “I couldn’t find you this afternoon.”
“I left you a note! I rode with Feng Hui to go check out the night school!”
Qin Weidong remained silent. He couldn’t articulate it, couldn’t explain to Fang Li that even a single minute of not knowing his whereabouts felt like a thousand invisible claws tearing at his chest. The anxiety was simply unbearable.
Instead of replying, Qin Weidong tilted his head and softly pressed a kiss to the bruised spot on Fang Li’s cheek—the very spot he had marred.
The kiss tickled, and Fang Li muttered a curse under his breath. But as he looked at Qin Weidong—this large, imposing man, now crouched before him, covered in the fine, white dust of limestone from the mine—his heart softened unexpectedly. He allowed the kiss to linger.
And sensing Qin Weidong’s rare, more pliant mood, Fang Li decided to voice what had been weighing on him.
“I know you don’t want me to go. But tell me honestly—what else do you think I can do right now?”
“Stay here. Just wait for me for one year. Let me earn enough money, and I’ll pay for your surgery.”
“And what about you?”
Qin Weidong froze, his expression momentarily blank. In all his meticulous planning, he had rarely considered his own well-being.
Fang Li lowered his gaze, his earlier playful tone completely gone. He focused on Qin Weidong’s right ear. “Tell me—can you still hear out of your right ear?”
Qin Weidong’s eyes flickered, avoiding his. He turned his head slightly. “I can.”
“Bullshit!”
Fang Li cursed vehemently. He slumped back down onto the stool, bent forward, and buried his face in his hands. “Qin Weidong, I don’t want you to keep living like this. Just to pay for my surgery, you spend every single day down in that mine, blasting rock, day in and day out. Sooner or later, you won’t be able to hear out of either ear…”
“And I can’t do anything. I can only watch—from up here. I see you leave every morning. I see you come back every night. And I can’t take it anymore, Qin Weidong. I just can’t do this anymore…”
Fang Li’s forehead pressed against the side of Qin Weidong’s neck, a gesture of utter helplessness. He truly didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t like Qin Weidong—he couldn’t hold a multitude of plans in his head. Whatever he thought, he said. He harbored no secrets from Qin Weidong. But right now, he was consumed by a suffocating anger directed inward—an anger he had been suppressing for far too long.
“So just listen to me this one time, okay?”
Axolotl Translations 
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