Jinyang was the capital of Jin Province.
The moment they exited the highway and entered the city, Fang Li’s eyes were glued to the scenery outside. This was his first time in such a large city.
The roads in Jinyang were wide, and the sheer number of small cars on the streets was more than he usually saw in an entire day back in Changding.
He even noticed a shop by the roadside with a sign that read “Pet Hospital.”
“Pets have their own hospitals?” Fang Li asked, utterly amazed.
Qin Weidong wasn’t particularly fond of animals that shed fur everywhere and barked incessantly.
“You want one?” he inquired.
But if Fang Li did, then so be it—they would get one.
In front of the hospital, a few dog cages were displayed. Inside one sat a pretty little white dog with a tiny braid tied on the top of its head.
Fang Li stared at it for a while, then shook his head. “Forget it. I wouldn’t even know how to take care of it. What if it died?”
His thoughts drifted back to the little rabbit Qin Weidong had once caught for him at the mine. One moment of carelessness, and Wang Xiaohu had skinned and roasted it. The image of the bloody rabbit pelt discarded on the ground had left a lasting scar in his memory.
Qin Weidong could tell Fang Li was thinking about something upsetting again. He reached over and gently tilted Fang Li’s chin back toward him, preventing him from looking out the window at the dog.
“Are you hungry?”
“A little,” Fang Li admitted.
Qin Weidong pulled over to a roadside restaurant that served stir-fried dishes. Fang Li wanted fish, so when it arrived, Qin Weidong carefully picked out all the bones before placing it in Fang Li’s bowl.
By the time they finished eating and arrived at their new place, the sun was already beginning its descent. The company had assigned Qin Weidong a two-bedroom apartment on the fourth floor of a residential building. It had previously belonged to a deputy manager from Chaojiang who had lived there with his wife and child, but after getting into some trouble and facing disciplinary action, the place had been left vacant.
The apartment wasn’t very large, around fifty to sixty square meters, but it had a kitchen, a bathroom, and had been cleaned recently—there wasn’t much dust. It was more than enough space for the two of them.
Fang Li was so stunned he couldn’t even speak. Ever since leaving Chongsi, they had slept on the dirty, crowded floorboards of train cars, they had shared the rough dormitories at the mines—and now, here they were, in the capital city, with a clean, tidy place of their own.
That night, after washing up, Fang Li lay in the big bed, still feeling a little dazed. The weather had turned colder. While Qin Weidong was helping him wash up, he was worried Fang Li might catch a chill, so he hadn’t properly washed himself. He simply stripped off his wet clothes and told Fang Li to get into bed first.
Lying there, Fang Li lifted his head. “Aren’t you going to sleep too? It’s so late, where are you going?”
“I have to go to the company tomorrow. I’m just stepping out to look over some materials,” Qin Weidong explained.
Although Fang Li felt a wave of sleepiness wash over him, he still pushed himself up from the bed upon hearing those words.
Qin Weidong was standing beside the bed, already changing his clothes. Softly, Fang Li bent down and leaned against Qin Weidong’s back.
“I’ll go with you. If I stay here by myself, I won’t be able to sleep…”
“What are you scared of? I’m just outside.”
“I don’t want to…” Fang Li shook his head. “I don’t want to sleep alone. It all feels so unreal. I’m scared that if I fall asleep alone and wake up, I’ll be back in Chongsi again…”
“That won’t happen,” Qin Weidong reassured him.
“But I’m still scared…” Fang Li tightened his arms around Qin Weidong’s neck, then gave a little jump, effortlessly wrapping his legs around him. He nestled against Qin Weidong’s shoulder and yawned, as if only clinging to him could bring on sleepiness.
“I won’t bother you, I promise,” Fang Li said, trying to sound well-behaved.
Qin Weidong found himself unable to refuse him. He carried Fang Li outside on his back.
“Does your waist still hurt?”
“It does… it hurts a lot.” Speaking of that, Fang Li had something he wanted to ask. After a moment of thought, he said, “Are we going to do that… every day from now on?”
Qin Weidong paused almost imperceptibly but answered with a straight face, “Yes.”
Fang Li immediately felt a wave of intense embarrassment wash over him.
Qin Weidong glanced at him and asked, “You don’t like it?”
“I do… but…” It wasn’t that he resisted—not if it was Qin Weidong—he liked it too. It was just that… it lasted too long, and it really hurt afterwards, especially that night… “I’m going to die in bed at this rate…”
Sure enough, the moment Qin Weidong heard him say “die,” his brow furrowed. “You just can’t keep that mouth of yours from talking nonsense, can you?”
Seeing Qin Weidong get angry, Fang Li laughed softly. Sometimes, he found a strange comfort in Qin Weidong’s mild irritation. He tilted his head and bargained, “Okay, okay, I won’t say it anymore. But… can we make it shorter next time?”
Qin Weidong pulled out a chair and sat down, shifting Fang Li onto his lap to hold him securely. Then he took out the documents Wei Jianghe had given him.
“No.”
“Stingy… grudge-holder…” Fang Li muttered under his breath, a hint of frustration in his tone.
He couldn’t help but wonder if Qin Weidong was merely teasing him. Maybe he should ask someone else? But then the realization hit him–he didn’t know a single soul in Jinyang yet. And even if he did, how could he possibly bring up such a delicate matter?
Lost in his thoughts, a wave of drowsiness washed over Fang Li. His head lolled onto Qin Weidong’s shoulder, and soon soft snores escaped his lips. Back in school, he could never find restful sleep alone, but whether it was in Changding or now in Jinyang, as long as he was nestled beside Qin Weidong, sleep always came easily.
When he finally stirred, he had no sense of the time. Qin Weidong was still holding him securely, one hand using a pen to mark important information in the documents spread before him, the other arm wrapped gently around Fang Li’s waist to prevent him from slipping in his sleep.
The moment Qin Weidong noticed he was awake, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Awake? Want me to carry you back to bed?”
Fang Li yawned, his eyelids fluttering sleepily as tears welled up in his eyes. “What time is it?” He only used that soft, whiny tone when speaking to Qin Weidong when he was half-asleep or particularly tired.
The sound melted Qin Weidong’s heart, and he kissed him again. “Not quite two o’clock.”
“It’s that late already…!” Fang Li’s eyes widened a little more, shaking off some of the lingering sleepiness. He glanced at the table and saw several thick documents laid out. On the open page, he caught a glimpse of something about “Zhengcheng Auction Company,” but the words were a blur, making no sense to him.
“I thought you weren’t going in until tomorrow? Why are they already making you work now? Even the most ruthless bosses aren’t this bad…”
“I agreed to do this earlier.”
“Is the work they gave you really hard?” Just looking at the dense pages gave Fang Li a headache.
“It’s not that hard,” Qin Weidong said, gently flipping to the next page. “But it needs careful thought.”
Qin Weidong understood the situation clearly: even though they were now in Jinyang, the car, the apartment—everything they had—was ultimately a reminder from Wei Jianghe. Wei Jianghe had smoothed the path for him, but it was also a subtle warning: everything he now possessed depended on his performance. If he faltered, it could all be taken away in an instant, leaving him with nothing.
He loathed being under someone’s thumb. But the path he had chosen was still long. He needed to plan meticulously and proceed with caution.
Fang Li had absolutely no idea what Qin Weidong was plotting, and Qin Weidong had no intention of letting him in on his plans. He didn’t want to burden Fang Li with unnecessary worries. He cherished the way Fang Li could laugh freely when joy struck him and cry openly when sadness overwhelmed him.
The turmoil at the mine the previous year had deeply affected Fang Li, forcing a premature maturity upon him. Now, he often fretted about their financial situation, and sometimes, noticing Qin Weidong’s constant busyness, he would quietly take on burdens himself.
But Qin Weidong didn’t want Fang Li to live with that kind of weight. He didn’t want anything—other than himself—to cast a shadow or restrict Fang Li’s spirit.
Qin Weidong gently ran his hand down Fang Li’s back, then remembered the new cellphone he had bought him. He located it among the shopping bags he had brought back. Fang Li had only ever seen those bulky “brick” phones carried by wealthy businessmen, so when he saw this much smaller, lighter phone that fit comfortably in his hand, a look of pleasant surprise spread across his face.
Qin Weidong saved his own number into the phone. “Tomorrow when I go to the company,” he said, “if you need anything at all, just call me.” He then patiently taught Fang Li how to use it.
Fang Li quickly grasped the basics after a few tries. He made a test call to Qin Weidong, and when the line connected and he heard Qin Weidong’s voice on the other end, a wide smile bloomed on his face. “This is so much better than those clunky wired phones back at the mine!”
“Yeah. If anything happens, tell me immediately.”
Then something else crossed Qin Weidong’s mind. He gently tilted Fang Li’s chin upward, and with a stern look, as if scolding a child, he said, “I’ll let it slide this time, but why didn’t you take that 1,600 yuan?”
The moment Qin Weidong’s tone turned serious, Fang Li instinctively wanted to shrink away. After all, he was a whole year older than Qin Weidong! Being scolded like a kid was seriously embarrassing. He pouted, a low grumble escaping his lips. “Because you obviously don’t like the way I earn money.”
He waved the new phone in his hand. “Now you’re rich, Manager Qin. You’ve made it to the provincial capital. Of course you’re not impressed by the little money I make…”
Seeing that he was joking and completely missing his point, Qin Weidong frowned and gave him a light smack on the waist. “Be serious.”
Fang Li stared at him, eyes wide with exaggerated shock. “You hit me?!”
Qin Weidong felt utterly helpless. Honestly, swatting a mosquito would have required more force than that gentle tap, but Fang Li refused to let it go, acting as if that tiny smack had caused him real pain. He pouted dramatically, his face a picture of grievance and mock anger, and accused, “Qin Weidong! You really don’t treat me well anymore! I told you I was hurting and you ignored me, and now you’re even hitting me?!”
Fang Li no longer wanted to cling to Qin Weidong. What was the point of sticking to him anyway? All he ever did was scold him! He pushed against Qin Weidong’s shoulders, trying to create some distance.
Seeing that Fang Li was on the verge of a tantrum, Qin Weidong quickly wrapped an arm around him and apologized in a soft, placating voice, “Alright, alright, I was wrong…”
“Where exactly were you wrong?” Fang Li demanded.
“I shouldn’t have hurt you,” Qin Weidong admitted.
“That’s more like it…” Seeing Qin Weidong’s sincere reflection, Fang Li decided to drop the matter. He was just feeling a little wronged. Growing up, he had rarely experienced physical pain, but these past few days had been different, and he needed to release some of that pent-up frustration. Fortunately, Qin Weidong understood him and caught on quickly.
“You really can’t so much as touch a finger of mine…” Fang Li lay back down and nuzzled against Qin Weidong’s neck. “Otherwise, I’ll really feel awful.”
Qin Weidong nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. Then he asked Fang Li, “Why didn’t you tell me about losing the money?”
“I was too embarrassed,” Fang Li confessed. “I can’t seem to do anything right. I took that money to enroll in night classes but didn’t learn much. Even Qi Jian was picking things up faster than me. And then I even managed to lose the money you gave me…”
“What’s mine is yours,” Qin Weidong said firmly. “I’m not going to scold you this time, but from now on, you have to tell me everything you’re planning.”
Qin Weidong had repeated this sentiment more than once. Fang Li had heard it so many times it was practically ingrained in his memory. He glanced at the piles of documents on Qin Weidong’s desk and muttered, “There’ll always be special circumstances. Last time, you were in Yicheng. I couldn’t find you and had no choice but to act on my own. Later, you’ll probably get even busier—how am I supposed to check with you about everything first?” Even if he wanted to, Qin Weidong might not always have the time to listen.
“I’ll always pick up your call,” Qin Weidong said, his eyes narrowing slightly, his voice serious and carrying a subtle warning. “But if you don’t tell me, then I’ll definitely punish you.”
“You’re still threatening me? Haven’t you scared me enough already?” Under Qin Weidong’s intense gaze, Fang Li couldn’t help but recall the last time Qin Weidong had truly lost his temper. The memory was still vivid, and a shiver ran down his spine at the thought of what might have transpired if he had made a different choice back then… Would Qin Weidong really have broken his legs?
Fang Li could only reluctantly feign agreement. “Why don’t you just plant a pair of eyes on me already!”
“You heartless brat,” Qin Weidong cursed under his breath, a hint of exasperated affection in his tone. If it were truly possible, he would have done it long ago.
Axolotl Translations 
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