"Wow, Brother Ruan, I'm telling you—this morning when I came to work I ran into a drunk. He was so scary, he was hitting anyone he saw!"
"Seriously?"
"Of course I'm serious!"
Behind the counter, Tu Nan lifted her head, listening to the young cashier girl who worked here gossiping with Fang Ruan.
Fang Ruan had just come over from home. He hadn't slept well. He yawned and humored her. "You're okay though, right?"
"I'm fine. The police came fast. Good thing it was daytime, if it had been at night, I swear it would've scared my soul right out of me."
That wouldn't have happened.
Tu Nan lowered her head, thinking of what had happened after midnight. It felt half real, half dream.
It wasn't the classic kind of hero-saving-a-damsel. The man had felt… different. If she had to put it into words, it was more like a casual, reflexive gesture, something as natural as tossing an empty water bottle into a trash can.
She even sensed a thread of coldness hidden in him.
Which was… strange.
Fang Ruan shooed the cashier girl away and leaned over Tu Nan's shoulder. "Why are you up so early? You only slept a couple hours."
Tu Nan glanced at him. "Aren't you up early too?"
"I've got things to do today. Besides, your dad showed up at my place first thing in the morning with a pot of soup, don't I have to give the two elders some space to… you know. Create opportunities?"
"My dad didn't notice anything, did he?"
"Relax."
In fact, right before Fang Ruan left home, he'd overheard Tu Gengshan talking with his mother about how dedicated Tu Nan had been, copying murals out of town, how proud he was. Fang Ruan really didn't have the heart to repeat that to her.
Tu Nan nodded and went back to playing Minesweeper.
One of the few games here she could actually stand.
Fang Ruan shook his head. "You're so outdated. If you're bored, play something fun. It's either Minesweeper or Tetris with you. My mom's better than this."
Tu Nan didn't care. "Aren't games all the same? Just ways to kill time."
"Try this." Fang Ruan snatched the mouse, exited her game, and clicked an icon on the desktop.
A new screen popped up, its character design looked oddly familiar. Tu Nan glanced at the posters on the wall.
It was the same game with the ancient-style character that reminded her of mural figures—the one she'd stared at twice last night.
"This kind of historical-fantasy game suits you." Fang Ruan returned the mouse to her.
"I don't know how to play. Not interested."
"Then make a character. You can customize the face, pinch it however you want."
He had already adjusted the settings and opened the creation screen. With no way out, Tu Nan took the mouse.
"That's more like it. You have to get used to new things. Otherwise you'll fall out of sync with me, how are we supposed to be family then?"
"Get lost."
Fang Ruan laughed and went off to take an order.
On the screen, the left panel displayed the character model with body options. On the right were sliders for stats and features, all adjustable.
Tu Nan had no experience. She clicked randomly, picked whatever felt right, guided by instinct.
She wasn't sure how long she fiddled with it before a voice asked, "Is it fun?"
Tu Nan looked up. A young woman leaned in from outside the counter. She'd just taken her eyes off the screen and now looked at Tu Nan.
"Not really," Tu Nan said. She hadn't even stepped into the game, how would she know if it was fun? She simply wasn't interested.
The girl's expression stiffened. She straightened and ignored her.
"Oh, you're here." Fang Ruan slipped through the gap between the rows of chairs.
"I've been here," the girl said, glancing at Tu Nan, then turning toward the door. "I'll wait in the car. It's getting late, let's go early and come back early."
The door shut.
Tu Nan asked Fang Ruan, "Where's she taking you?"
"Ling Tan Temple."
"A date?"
"I wish," Fang Ruan said, sounding almost regretful. "But who goes to a temple for a date? She just wants to see it, but it's been closed lately, so she came to me for help."
So that was what he meant by having plans today. Tu Nan asked, "What can you do to help?"
"Hey, what do you mean what can I do? This is exactly the kind of thing only I can help with. I'm the king of this city, where can't I go?"
Fair enough. Even as a kid he'd been trouble in motion, young, but with way too many connections.
Fang Ruan walked over and poked her. "Coming with us?"
"I don't want to."
"Come on. It's outside the city, you won't run into anyone you know. And the temple has murals, sculptures, all that stuff. You get it. You can even talk about it with the girl."
Tu Nan still didn't feel like it. She wasn't the type who liked tagging along.
Fang Ruan's eyes flicked to the screen and he suddenly shouted, "Holy, what did you make?!"
When other people customized their characters, male or female—they all ended up with peach-blossom faces and picturesque brows, impossibly pretty.
But the character on Tu Nan's screen had a high broad forehead, rounded cheeks, long brows and narrow eyes, a plump nose tip, a wide jaw, and full lips.
Tu Nan said calmly, "A solemn, sacred countenance."
"…"
Fang Ruan was convinced she did it on purpose.
Mural-fed aesthetics, seriously.
In the end, Tu Nan was still persuaded.
Fang Ruan's persuasion skills weren't a joke. When they were kids, he could use his silver tongue to copy her homework every single day. Convincing her to go out now was nothing.
But, really, Tu Nan was also giving him face.
She'd come back too suddenly. Anyone with eyes could tell something was off. Yet Fang Ruan hadn't pressed her for answers. He'd only tried to distract her in every way he could. She wasn't blind to it.
A little after two in the afternoon, the sun was blazing.
Tu Nan followed Fang Ruan onto the street, shading her eyes with one hand as she looked at the car parked by the curb.
An SUV.
Not Fang Ruan's.
Somewhere in her chest, an odd, inexplicable feeling surfaced. She turned her head and scanned the surroundings.
The girl they'd seen earlier was in the back seat, playing on her phone. Through the tinted window she spotted Tu Nan and asked Fang Ruan, "She's coming too?"
Fang Ruan pointed at Tu Nan. "This is my little sister. Poor thing. I'm taking her out to see the world."
Tu Nan slapped his hand away.
The girl looked like she wanted to laugh, but held it in. She jerked her chin toward the front. "You know the way. Drive."
"Gladly, for a beauty." Fang Ruan trotted around and climbed into the driver's seat.
Left with no choice, Tu Nan sat in the front passenger seat, still catching, out of the corner of her eye, the way the girl in the back looked at her.
Weird. All she'd said was the game was average. She hadn't said the girl was average. Why did she look annoyed?
And honestly, the girl wasn't average at all, long curled hair, a polka-dot tee with denim shorts, fashionable and bright. Tu Nan even thought she looked harmonious in the car, pleasing to the eye.
Fang Ruan hummed a tune as he started the engine.
Then the girl suddenly said, "Wait, there's one more person."
Fang Ruan hit the brakes. "Huh? Where is he?"
"Hold on. He's coming." The girl lifted her phone and called.
Tu Nan faintly heard the busy tone. No one picked up.
Tu Nan tugged Fang Ruan's sleeve and shot him a look, how about we forget it? Who knows how long we'll be waiting. If I can avoid going, I will.
Fang Ruan lifted a hand and made a slicing gesture across his neck.
No negotiation.
Tu Nan glared at him, then turned away , only to see the window darken.
Someone passed outside, heading toward the back seat. A door opened, and the person got in.
"Finally," the girl exhaled in relief.
A man slid into the back, leaning into the seat. One hand pressed at the bridge of his brows. His shirt collar was loose, two buttons undone.
Tu Nan turned very slowly, eyes narrowing slightly.
Even before getting into the car, she'd felt something for no reason at all, because the car had been parked near the place where that man disappeared last night.
And now, it seemed her intuition had been right.
The girl said, "Good thing there's someone to drive. You didn't pull another all-nighter, did you?"
The man murmured, "Mm."
"So hard on yourself. One day something's going to go wrong."
The man smiled, but his hand never left his brow.
Fang Ruan, ignored for too long, finally found an opening. "Can we go now?"
"Let's go," the man said. "I'll sleep a bit more."
Aside from a hint of fatigue, that low voice was exactly the same as last night.
Tu Nan adjusted the rearview mirror.
The man shifted slightly, one hand supporting his forehead, elbow resting against the window. His long fingers covered his brows and eyes. Only the straight line of his nose and his pressed lips were visible.
Even the silhouette matched what she'd seen under the streetlamp.
The world really could be ridiculously small.
They took the highway. It didn't take long to reach the outskirts.
No one spoke the whole way, there was someone sleeping in the car.
Fang Ruan was talkative. Holding it in for the entire drive, unable even to play music, was torture. But he'd been hired to help, so he couldn't complain.
The temple sat on the mountain. A long flight of steps climbed nearly a hundred meters. Trees shaded the path, dense and lush.
Outside the mountain gate was a ticket window. But since the temple had been closed to the public, it was shut.
A novice monk opened the gate just a crack. Tu Nan held the incense offerings she'd just bought and slipped through.
Fang Ruan had to greet the abbot before being allowed in. The temple didn't ask for money, but basic respect was required. Fang Ruan had dumped the errand of buying incense on her, while he drove the others straight around to the back mountain entrance and went in that way.
What could Tu Nan say? In the car there was a sleeping man and a paying customer of a girl, other than her, who was going to be sent running errands?
"Thank you, Master."
"Amitabha." The novice chanted, shielding his shaved head from the blazing sun with both hands as he jogged away.
Tu Nan looked up. In the distance, several halls were under repair. Workers stood on scaffolding under the fierce sun, sweating as they worked.
When she'd gotten out of the car earlier, she'd deliberately looked back. The man had shifted, half-awake. She'd withdrawn her gaze and walked away, assuming that by now he'd be fully awake.
They were probably already wandering the temple grounds. She likely wouldn't run into them for a while.
Carrying the incense herself, Tu Nan went to the Mahavira Hall. It seemed mostly finished, she caught a strong smell of fresh paint the moment she stepped inside.
The Buddhist temples inland weren't as rough and rugged as those in the borderlands. The central Buddha statue looked down with lowered eyes, peaceful, calm.
There was no open flame. She didn't light the incense, she simply laid it on the altar table, pressed her palms together, and bowed a few times out of politeness.
Outside, the sun was so harsh it left nowhere to hide. The hall, instead, was a refuge.
Tu Nan twisted open a bottle of mineral water and drank half in one go, exhaling in relief.
Truthfully, she'd been here once as a child, her father had brought her.
He'd said, "It's good for you to see places like this. Remember their wonder."
Back then she hadn't understood the word wonder at all.
Now she didn't want to feel any wonder. She only wanted her father to never discover what had happened.
After finishing the water, she finally stepped back out of the hall.
She'd just reached the corridor when someone walked toward her.
The man looked fully awake now, his eyes clear, his steps brisk.
Tu Nan watched him cross the carved and vermilion-painted walkway.
When he reached her, he lowered his head slightly, glanced at her, and gave a small nod, then continued past her.
That was his greeting.
Tu Nan shot him a look. As he was about to pass, she suddenly spoke.
"Last night… thanks."
He stopped and turned back, smiling faintly. "No need. It was nothing."
"…"
So he recognized her too?
Tu Nan looked at his smile and, in the scorching heat, felt a chill creep up her back. If she hadn't thanked him, would he have said nothing and kept pretending they'd never met?
He still stood there in front of her, more than half a head taller.
Tu Nan steadied herself. "My name is Tu Nan. Tu as in graffiti. Nan as in south."
"Shi Qinglin," he said. "Shi Qing as in the mineral pigment shiqing. Lin as in 'arrive.'"
It was a rare way to introduce a name, like he didn't just have the surname Shi (Stone), but the surname Shi Qing.
Shiqing, a mineral blue pigment used in Chinese painting. A color.
Tu Nan's temples suddenly throbbed.
The stroke she'd painted wrong
had been shiqing.