coffee
After class, Zhong Qiqian was going home and specifically told Fang Chengyin, "If anything happens, be sure to tell me."
Fang Chengyin nodded. He didn't go straight back to his dorm; he still didn't really want to see Jiang Zhi. He wanted to call Song Zixin, but the school park was a public place, and it wouldn't be good if bad guys overheard.
He recalled Fang Bokang's behavior before his disappearance; he loved literature and art, just as Song Zixin loved film and television.
Every weekend when we talked, he was filming in the mountains.
He didn't entirely agree with the theory that Fang Bokang had been murdered by Song Zixin's obsessive fans. The art films Fang Bokang had watched before his disappearance were dark in tone, with an overall oppressive atmosphere, and always had an eerie feel to them.
The protagonists are mostly marginalized by society, their thoughts are disordered and lack of public order and morality, and this is most prominent in their emotions. They may go crazy in love and then become decadent.
Ever since Fang Bokang started working on art films, he has been shrouded in a gloomy mood when he returns home, which is what is known as being unable to get out of character.
He once suspected that Fang Bokang disappeared because he was immersed in the role, but Song Zixin said that the probability was not high. Fang Bokang was quite accomplished in the field of psychological medicine and had even taught her how to detach herself from the role of a patient with depression.
Song Zixin also used her connections in the film industry to get a director access to an art film that Fang Bokang had shot before his disappearance. The filming location was indeed the remote mountain area he mentioned. The content mostly revolved around the yearnings of young people from the mountains for the outside world, for love, for developing their hometown's agriculture, and for family reunion. Ultimately, these characters were abandoned by society—some died in despair, some took up arms in resentment, and some continued to degenerate. Moreover, these art films were all labeled "real" in their promotional materials; the humble dwellings they described were real, and the scripts and dialogue they provided were based on on-site interviews.
He once thought that Fang Bokang was filming them in the hopes that the effect would be similar to that of "Metamorphosis," and that he could find a group of sponsors for them.
But Fang Bokang said, "It's to let the public know that there is such a way of life in the world."
"They want things, but they lack ambition. Isn't it their just deserts to be abandoned by society?" I still clearly remember Fang Bokang's astonishment when he heard this. At that time, Fang Chengyin continued, "Dad, did I say something wrong?"
"Perhaps...they just have psychological issues..."
"But the film doesn't say they're sick. If their psychological problems are really caused by being marginalized, then you should have guided the audience to think about that when you were planning the filming, instead of focusing on the protagonists' unreasonable behavior."
"Does Yinyin think those older boys are being unreasonable?"
Fang Chengyin, who was just a primary school student at the time, did not understand. When he was with Fang Bokang, his thinking was free. Fang Bokang would always intentionally or unintentionally lead him to peek into many dark aspects of society.
However, if he were to follow Song Zixin, what he could learn and must adhere to is to have critical thinking skills while following the mainstream official ideology and to view life positively.
"So, Dad, when you film them, is it really just for presentation, like making a documentary? Isn't there a more direct purpose?"
Fang Bokang smiled and said, "Perhaps. Dad is also working on it."
"Is it confirmed?" Fang Chengyin hesitated for a moment. Perhaps Fang Bokang's disappearance was related to his "pursuit".
What is the ultimate goal of making art films?
Over the years, he has worked on several art-house film sets, and all he has seen are people who do not love life and are trying their best to denounce it.
What is their purpose?
Some say art films are more likely to win international awards because they capture the most authentic side of a country. But they seem to have forgotten that the root cause of the protagonists' self-destruction is not poverty, but a lofty and misanthropic mentality.
Some say the film aims to show contemporary society the future through its protagonist, suggesting that youth will inevitably become decadent and deceitful, and that innovative and entrepreneurial young people are merely a facade to mask societal decay.
Fang Chengyin disagreed, saying that the dismal box office results showed that audiences did not like this type of film because it was synonymous with despair.
Being depressed isn't about being completely despondent after a setback; it's about wallowing in self-pity before even starting to strive.
Furthermore, the white paper on the growth rate of the entrepreneurial population and examples from our own lives show that people are willing to start businesses and are willing to try new things in order to make a living. For example, Jiang Zhi, although we don't know his specific entrepreneurial direction, went out to set up a stall at a young age to connect with businesses.
For example, a student from Hongruisidu, despite being extremely wealthy, still takes every class and every exam seriously and learns how to take over the company.
So what is Fang Bokang trying to ascertain? What does he need to ascertain? Will Yang Yuzan know? Has he been following Song Zixin for so many years simply to make her famous through his lens, or does he have ulterior motives? What was his purpose in giving her the memory card? Was he also threatened? Or did he want to lure out the murderer?
It's still a complete mess.
Before he knew it, he had arrived at the dormitory entrance. All his thoughts scattered. Fang Chengyin laughed at himself, never expecting that the terrifying existence of Jiang Zhi was more terrifying than these tangled worries.
As he entered the password, he planned his route: once inside, he would greet people if necessary, then walk past the people sitting on the sofa watching anime to wash up, and finally slam the door shut.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open with a thud.
A chill swept in, but the balcony window remained open. Jiang Zhi sat on the sofa as usual, but instead of watching anime, he closed his eyes to rest.
Fang Chengyin was overjoyed. This was perfect; there was no need to say hello.
Just as he was about to walk over, he asked, "You're back?"
The voice was too hoarse and weak.
Fang Chengyin turned his head, looked closely, and saw that there was still sweat on his forehead. "You have a cold?"
Jiang Zhi laughed, a painful laugh that was truly unsightly. "Perhaps?"
Fang Chengyin sighed, walked over and touched his forehead, recoiled from the heat, and said, "You have a fever!"
Jiang Zhi laughed again: "It seems so."
After saying that, he leaned forward. Fang Chengyin instinctively stepped forward and landed right on the side of his neck. The heat made him feel hot too. Luckily it was nighttime, otherwise he would have been burned by the stove.
"I'm not going to the hospital."
"You acted first and informed me later?" Fang Chengyin picked up the person and walked towards the room.
Jiang Zhi hugged his neck tightly, as if chuckling to herself: "Hmm. You should take care of me now. I've cooked so many meals for you."
"...I knew you had ulterior motives."
Jiang Zhi then said to himself, "I didn't wear enough clothes when I went out; the temperature difference between day and night is huge today."
Fang Chengyin said irritably, "Nobody said you can't get a fever in the summer!"
"Okay, I'll dress properly next time. You took care of me, and I'll repay you when I get better."
Fang Chengyin placed him on the bed, supporting him with his hands on either side, looking at Jiang Zhi with amusement. He was practically burning up with fever, wasn't he? Sweat soaked his forehead, rolled down his nose, and across his thin lips…
Jiang Zhi's lips curled into a smile. "Am I good-looking?"
Fang Chengyin was stunned, feeling his ear tips burning. He suddenly stood up and exclaimed, "Damn it!"
Seeing Fang Chengyin turn to leave, Jiang Zhi's upturned lips drooped, looking very aggrieved: "Aren't you going to abandon me?"
Fang Chengyin, who had already grasped the doorknob, sighed, "I'll go get a towel. Didn't you notice your clothes were soaked with sweat?"
"Then could you help me change my clothes first?"
Fang Chengyin turned to look at him in disbelief.
Jiang Zhi looked sickly.
Fang Chengyin said disdainfully, "A high fever can make a person stupid, but it won't affect muscle memory."
"Really?" Jiang Zhi raised his right hand, then softly lowered it back down. "You see, muscle memory only works when you have the strength to do so."
Fang Chengyin: "..." He turned around and left.
Soon after, he came in with a basin of water and a towel, wiped the sweat off Jiang Zhi's face, and then decided not to continue.
Jiang Zhi grasped his wrist, not too tightly, and said, "Help me wipe my body too. I'm in good shape, so I won't hurt your eyes."
Fang Chengyin shook off his hand, "Why do you always talk like you're teasing those gigolos? I've told you, I'm not! And I could never like you!"
Perhaps Jiang Zhi really was feverish; this kind of honesty, which he usually wouldn't mind, was unusually important to him today. Fang Chengyin watched as his eyes gradually reddened, looking pitiful, like a big dog being ignored by its owner.
Fang Chengyin helplessly bent down and patted his forehead, "Considering how many times you've cooked for me, I'll reluctantly accept."
Jiang Zhi immediately smiled and said, "Okay!"
Fang Chengyin: Is this guy trying to gain sympathy?
However, once he agreed, he agreed. Fang Chengyin helped him up with a mournful expression, and Jiang Zhi took the opportunity to throw himself into the other's arms like a limp rag, rubbing against the softness on the side of his neck before leaning against him contentedly.
Fang Chengyin felt a little ticklish from his teasing and pushed his head away, saying, "Don't push your luck!"
Jiang Zhi remained unmoved.
Fang Chengyin frowned and lifted the hem of Jiang Zhi's sweater, then realized he was in a bit of a predicament. Jiang Zhi was wearing a soft turtleneck sweater; would pulling it up directly dislocate his arm?
He probably never imagined that he was treating Jiang Zhi like a child who was less than a year old.
After an unknown amount of time, Jiang Zhi said sullenly, "Do you need me to raise my hand?"
Fang Chengyin finally came to his senses and cried out in disbelief at his own stupidity. He pulled upwards with all his might, and could hear Jiang Zhi's faint cry of pain.
The clothes were violently thrown off the bed.
Jiang Zhi raised his head: "How about you just hold me like this while I wipe you?"
Fang Chengyin, unable to bear it any longer, pushed him away without any pity, and Jiang Zhi fell onto the quilt.
Fang Chengyin couldn't help but be stunned.
It was nighttime, and the room was filled with soft light. The person on the bed had a delicate, frail face, yet, as he had said, he had a good physique—his skin wasn't the wheat color of a fruit farmer or the earthy tan of someone tanned, but a healthy white, with firm abdominal muscles, glistening with the sweat from a high fever, the lines flowing smoothly over his lean waist…
Jiang Zhi: "Do you think my physique is also very down-to-earth?"
Fang Chengyin looked away and wrung out the towel in the basin.
"Actually, no. I work with the land, and God has been kind to me, giving me a healthy body." She smiled, looking extremely charming: "I have fair skin and a beautiful face."
The towel was thrown at him, covering his face, and Fang Chengyin felt his body shamefully heating up.
"Did I make you feel anything?" The voice from under the towel was muffled. He didn't remove it, but continued to tease her.
Fang Chengyin irritably picked up a towel and wiped Jiang Zhi's body, his lips pressed tightly together, and he didn't hold back at all. During the process, Jiang Zhi hissed a few times, and after wiping his upper body, it was indeed quite red.
After wiping my upper body, I put the towel back in the basin.
Before Jiang Zhi could make any more unreasonable demands, Fang Chengyin said, "The rest can be dealt with by ourselves once the fever subsides."
After saying that, he went to his wardrobe to get his pajamas. He glanced at the other clothes and saw that they were all designer brands. Are fruit farmers this rich now?
She slammed the closet shut, helped Jiang Zhi get dressed, gave him some medicine, and tucked him in. "If he doesn't get better in four hours, we'll go to the hospital. You haven't eaten yet, have you? I'll go make some porridge. Do you want some sugar?"
Jiang Zhi didn't seem to hear him. After taking the medicine, he just stared at the person intently, but it was impossible to tell what emotions he was expressing.
Fang Chengyin reluctantly took out his phone to search for "Is it suitable for patients with high fever to drink sweet porridge?" After finding out, he reached out and touched his eyes, "Close your eyes and go to sleep."
Jiang Zhi obediently closed his eyes.
Fang Chengyin went to the kitchen to tinker. After putting the rice in the pot, he made himself a bowl of very light noodles. He wanted to have a bowl of spicy chicken noodles, but he was afraid that the strong smell of oil would affect the patient with a high fever in the room, so he ate alone at the dining table with sighs.
After they finished eating the noodles, it started raining heavily outside the window again, accompanied by rumbling thunder. Fang Chengyin brought the porridge into Jiang Zhi's room.
Jiang Zhi opened his eyes and looked at him.
Fang Chengyin touched his forehead; it didn't seem so hot anymore. "Can you drink it yourself?"
Jiang Zhi shook his head.
"Then I won't drink it." He made a move to take the cup away.
"Yes." A deep voice.
While Jiang Zhi was drinking porridge, Fang Chengyin stood by the window, pulled it shut a little, and looked out, lost in thought.
"Can you sleep with me tonight?"
"What did you say?" Fang Chengyin doubted his ears, turned around and teased, "You still have the strength to do this with a fever like this?"
Jiang Zhi paused for a moment, then chuckled: "I'm always ready to help you."
Fang Chengyin then realized that he had misunderstood him, and went over to take the empty bowl from his hand. "If you usually behaved more properly, people wouldn't have such wild ideas."
Jiang Zhi laughed, returning to the original point of the conversation: "You can sleep here. If I'm not feeling well in three hours, just call an ambulance."
"I'd be crazy to sleep in the same bed with you."
He got up to leave, but his wrist was suddenly grabbed, and a strong force pulled him backward. In an instant, he was pressed down on the bed, the two of them very close, and Fang Chengyin could clearly feel Jiang Zhi's hot breath.
"What's wrong with you?!" She struggled a few times to no avail.
Jiang Zhi lowered her head and touched the tip of his nose. "I told you, I always have the strength to help you."
Fang Chengyin knew that he simply wanted him to sleep next to him, but he was still angry, so his words became harsh, "I'm afraid of being infected by you."
The large shadow on her body disappeared, and with a click, the soft light in the room also vanished. The next second, Jiang Zhi wrapped her limbs around her, and the person in her ear whispered, "Don't worry about infecting you, I'll take care of you now."
He was enveloped by a scalding heat, unable to break free. Fang Chengyin gritted his teeth: "You're insane..."
"Let's make a deal, you can hold me."
Fang Chengyin wondered if he might be hard of hearing tonight, "What exactly are you sending...?"
Before she could finish speaking, her hand was grabbed and she was turned around, as if she had taken the initiative to embrace the person in front of her.
Fang Chengyin stared speechlessly at his hand, which had been clenched so tightly it had turned white, and found it somewhat amusing: "Are you that desperate for love?"
Actually, compared to being hugged, this is indeed more comfortable. The cool breeze leaking in from the window behind me helps to counteract the heat in front of me.
Jiang Zhi nuzzled against his collarbone, found a comfortable position, and remained still, replying, "Perhaps?"
Fang Chengyin blurted out, "Your life has so many uncertainties."
Jiang Zhi didn't speak again. He could hear his breathing become shallow as he was about to fall asleep, then suddenly become rapid again, as if afraid that he wouldn't be held. He didn't know how Jiang Zhi had learned to do this.
A few minutes later, Fang Chengyin said helplessly, "Stop squeezing it."
Jiang Zhi shook his head firmly, still unaware of the meaning behind his words.
Fang Chengyin pulled his hand away. "I'll hug you."
Jiang Zhi's hand tightened suddenly, then loosened. "Okay."
Fang Chengyin naturally put his arm around the man, gently patting his back with his numb hand, like coaxing a child. The action was so natural that even he himself didn't realize there was anything wrong with it.
The person in front of him snuggled closer, Fang Chengyin was so sleepy, "Don't move! Go to sleep, and get better soon. I won't have time to take care of you tomorrow..." and then fell asleep.
A few minutes later, Jiang Zhi opened his eyes and kissed his collarbone.
Three hours later, Fang Chengyin jolted awake. The thunder outside the window had subsided, leaving only torrential rain. Half asleep, he reached out and touched the other person haphazardly. The fever had subsided considerably and wasn't as high anymore.
A deep voice came from above, "It's still early, sleep a little longer."
Fang Chengyin's mind went blank for a few seconds before he suddenly snapped back to reality. He looked up, his forehead resting against Jiang Zhi's chin: "..."
When did Jiang Zhi hug himself?
Seeing that Jiang Zhi still had his eyes closed, Fang Chengyin quietly lifted the hand that was on his waist, but was instead pulled even tighter.
"Don't move, it's still raining outside, and it's cold." It was a coaxing, indulgent voice.
This only made Fang Chengyin more irritated. "What do you take me for! I'm taking care of you because I don't want to take another life on my hands. Don't push your luck!"
Jiang Zhi opened his eyes and looked down. "I won't do anything more than that until you agree. But if you keep provoking me like this, I have to do something to relieve it."
A hand began to subtly slip inside his clothes, and Fang Chengyin snapped, "Get your filthy hands off me!"
Jiang Zhi laughed: "You've been taking advantage of me for so long, I'm just returning the favor."
"You're talking nonsense..."
Only then did Fang Chengyin fully realize how shameful his posture was—his legs were tightly clamped around the other person's, and his other hand reached under his armpit and onto the other person's back.
Fang Chengyin: "..."
Jiang Zhi: "So I need to hold you until dawn to even things out. Or should I kiss you unconscious first?"
Fang Chengyin stopped struggling. "I really want to know why you're so clingy to me."
"I'm not clingy to you, you're the one who's clingy to me."
Fang Chengyin decided that he would be a fool to talk to him again.
Soon he was overcome by sleepiness and slept soundly for the rest of the night.
The sound of rain outside the window was incredibly soothing. The person in his arms rubbed against him like a kitten, their toes playfully tapping around. Jiang Zhi gasped, a certain part of him reacting uncontrollably. He tried to move the other's legs away, but to little avail. Fang Chengyin, still groaning in dissatisfaction at being moved, snuggled even closer to Jiang Zhi.
Jiang Zhi, sweating profusely, could only lower his head and peck the instigator several times, saying, "Fang Chengyin, you're really going to kill me!"
When Fang Chengyin woke up again in the morning, he found himself still in the other person's arms. This time he really couldn't bear it anymore. Taking advantage of the other person's lack of vigilance, he kicked him off the bed with a loud thud.
Jiang Zhi laughed instead of getting angry, "You eat it and then throw it away, leaving nothing but dregs."
Fang Chengyin stared incredulously at this shameless man, who had skin as thick as a wall, before walking out and slamming the door shut.
I plunged into the bathtub, wanting to wash away all the sweat.
I opened my phone and saw that Yang Yuzan had already replied: 4:00 PM, Spoon Taro Cafe.
Fang Chengyin buried himself in the water.
After washing up, Jiang Zhi had already left. The breakfast he had prepared was placed on the table, along with a sticky note:
"Thank you for taking care of me last night."
—Zhi
Remove the food cover, and this time it's no longer an unappetizing "alien" bun. The meat filling is delicious, and the soy milk is rich and creamy.
After eating a few bites, Fang Chengyin went to class, and after class, he rushed to Spoon Taro Cafe. He took the path in the backyard; the willow trees along the path were long gone, but the roses on the fence were in full bloom.
He strolled around, admiring the scenery, when suddenly he stopped. Through the fence, he saw two people sitting in front of a hazy purple light, pausing occasionally, seemingly talking about something.
Fang Chengyin walked away quickly, went around to the front door and entered the house, where Yang Yuzan was already waiting.
The robot barista said at the coffee counter, "Please sit at table number six."
Fang Chengyin walked towards Yang Yuzan, who was much more subdued than he had been at the crime scene last time.
After Fang Chengyin was seated, Yang Yuzan asked, "You added sugar to your coffee, don't you like it?"
Fang Chengyin said he didn't drink.
Yang Yuzan stopped beating around the bush, saying, "You and your mother are both very capable in background checks."
"Your presence here has nothing to do with my mother. It is you who shaped my mother."
Yang Yuzan showed no surprise. "So you already knew, so what did you want to ask me today?"
"Liu Desheng used to be your mother's bodyguard. What is your relationship with him?"
“You can call us your mother’s studio members. We were just former colleagues, and later my daughter happened to attend the same kindergarten, so we exchanged pleasantries a few times.”
"So what do you mean by giving me the memory card you got from him? I can't find anything out with just this card. On the contrary, you know more than I do and have more means at your disposal."
"I just wanted to say hello to your mother."
Fang Chengyin was taken aback. "What do you mean?"
Yang Yuzan didn't speak, he just looked at him.
Fang Chengyin seemed to understand something.
Yang Yuzan stood up.
"You're just guessing."
Yang Yuzan stopped.
Fang Chengyin leaned back in his chair and tilted his head slightly. "You also think that person is Fang Bokang? You used to work with my mother, and you're such a perceptive reporter. You couldn't possibly not know Fang Bokang's habits, could you?"
Yang Yuzan picked up the bag, seemingly losing interest.
Fang Chengyin scoffed: "But then again, the criminal's disguise skills are superb. Everyone, including you and me, was kept in the dark. At first, you even grabbed me and yelled that I was a murderer. I don't know if you were trying to protect Song Zixin or ruin her?"
Yang Yuzan stopped and turned around. He saw a resemblance to Song Zixin in the person in front of him, so he added, "There is no such thing as paparazzi and celebrities protecting each other."
After saying that, he was about to leave when he turned back and asked, "Is the doll with the topknot still alright?"
Fang Chengyin couldn't understand the implied meaning in his words.
Yang Yuzan said nothing more and left.
Fang Chengyin picked up the cup of coffee and drank it. It was sweet, but his heart was filled with bitterness.
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