In about a week, Gu Zhuoyan's room was completely made over, even down to its colour scheme. Gu Zhuoyan himself also grew more and more accustomed to life here. He no longer found fault in Ms Hu's cooking, and cared more for his dog, walking about with napkins and bags in hand every day.
Walking into his room after a shower, Gu Zhuoyan saw Gu Baoyan, who had come in to play, in the act of stuffing her Barbie doll into his model sports car. "You have three seconds to take that back out," he said.
Gu Baoyan was reasonably obedient, putting the model car back and going to the computer to play video games. Gu Zhuoyan sat at the foot of the bed and rubbed his head with the towel, shirtless, with one foot on the Barbie doll's skirt. When he looked up, he saw the drawing on the wall: a pair of hands, gifted to him by Zhuang Fanxin.
When he thought about it, this room's design, this sketch, and the fresh flowers in the garden were all gifts from Zhuang Fanxin. Both logically and emotionally speaking, Gu Zhuoyan thought he should thank the other, especially since he didn't like owing favours.
But how? It didn't seem very sincere to just thank him verbally, all the more because Zhuang Fanxin's help was made of tangible, visible, real objects.
It needed a practical reply, at least a gift in return.
In truth, Gu Zhuoyan had never really given gifts to others. Though he had childhood pals and friends aplenty, they were all capable of buying what they wanted. Between them, a verbal "thank you" or "sorry", or some plain speaking, or letting them win a game, would settle everything.
He thought hard. Zhuang Fanxin was an art student, maybe he should give art supplies? But this idea was quickly quashed on two counts: one, he wouldn't be able to tell the quality of art supplies, and two, they were what Zhuang Fanxin lacked the least.
The keyboard clacking loudly under her fingers, Gu Baoyan turned to ask for help. "Ge, I keep dying."
Gu Zhuoyan searched for a T-shirt and put it on. He walked over to the table and picked Gu Baoyan up, then sat down holding her as he started a new game. Looking at the screen, he asked from some desperation, "I'm going to give Zhuang Fanxin a gift, what should I get?"
Gu Baoyan didn't reply, asking instead, "Can you get me one too?"
Moving his long fingers across the keyboard, Gu Zhuoyan replied, "I'll give you plane tickets, you can go home." Speaking of going home, he remembered the child's first night here. Slightly puzzled, he asked, "You haven't been missing home for the past few days?"
Gu Baoyan responded, "I've seen the light."
There wasn't much discipline here, and Xue Maochen often brought her out to play, plus there was a pet. And Gu Baoyan noticed that Gu Zhuoyan was less cold lately. Who knew? Maybe tomorrow he would be in a good mood and let her take his model car apart.
Nice try, said Gu Zhuoyan. When the game reached the next level, a gift bag appeared, reminding him that he hadn't figured out the matter of the gift. He sighed to himself. "What should I give?"
"A guitar," said Gu Baoyan. "Xiao Zhuang gege seems to like them a lot."
"Nah." Fear lingered in Gu Zhuoyan's heart. Zhuang Fanxin really had no talent for music; after an evening of teaching him to play the guitar, his ears rang when he went to bed that night.
Gu Baoyan couldn't think of anything. Noticing that he had won a few rounds, she became eager to try playing herself. Gu Zhuoyan returned to lie down on his bed, pressing his pillow down as he continued to think. A gift had to be something the other party liked, right?
Besides drawing, what did Zhuang Fanxin like?
"Ge, I died again!" Gu Baoyan bugged him.
Gu Zhuoyan went to the living room for some peace. His phone gave a ding, signalling an incoming message from his childhood friend, Lian Yiming. The photo was of a pair of sneakers with a simple design. They weren't officially on sale yet.
Gu Zhuoyan was too lazy to reply. Shoes, hats, what was so great about them, were they really worth discussing? Guys were no better than girls on that count. But then he thought about it: he's a guy too, so would Zhuang Fanxin like sneakers as well?
He might as well buy this pair, and save himself some frustration.
Gu Zhuoyan didn't know what size Zhuang Fanxin wore, so he drafted a text message: "what's your shoe size", and then deleted it — this was too direct. "Are you there? Send me a pic of your feet." This one made him sound kind of pervert.
Finally, Gu Zhuoyan sent: "How tall are you?"
Zhuang Fanxin was in the middle of a movie. When he received the message, he pulled his hand out of the bag of crisps and picked up his phone. He looked at it, slightly confused. The first text Gu Zhuoyan had taken the initiative to send was to ask him about his height?
He wasn't tall, just 173cm. Most people at 158 would call themselves 160, and at 178 they would say 180, so he replied with "175". After this reply, he felt a bit guilty, and followed up: "Why?"
Gu Zhuoyan: "No reason."
This made Zhuang Fanxin even more curious. "What are you doing?"
Gu Zhuoyan: "Nothing."
After this reply, Gu Zhuoyan called Lian Yiming. This was the first call he had made since coming to Rongcheng. When the line connected, he didn't even have a warm greeting for his best friend, directly asking him to buy the shoes.
The size was off. "Who are you buying them for?" asked Lian Yiming.
"A friend," said Gu Zhuoyan.
"A friend?" Lian Yiming complained, "Every day I'm waiting for news that you've drowned yourself at sea, thinking you'd be forced to come back home sooner than later, and you've gone and made a friend already?"
Gu Zhuoyan laughed. "It's great here, my sister loves it."
While he was here chewing fat over the phone, over there, Zhuang Fanxin was still baffled. He occasionally lifted his phone and took a look, but instead of another reply from Gu Zhuoyan, he received a call from his good friend Pei Zhi.
Pei Zhi had gone to Japan to study over the summer holiday, and was returning the day after the next. Zhuang Fanxin checked online: the latest art exhibition would be ending the day after that, so they would make it in time.
Probably because of his family environment, Zhuang Fanxin had grown up frequenting all sorts of art galleries, never getting bored no matter how many times he went. Two days later, he walked out into the blazing sun and ran into Gu Zhuoyan walking his dog when he exited the gate.
There was a high temperature warning for the day, so Zhuang Fanxin reminded him: "Be careful not to get a heat stroke."
"Why are you going out, then?" Gu Zhuoyan said.
"I'm going to an art exhibition." Zhuang Fanxin put on a baseball cap. "If I don't go now, I'll miss it. I'm sacrificing my body for art."
"When will the sacrifice be done?" Gu Zhuoyan asked casually.
Zhuang Fanxin thought for a moment. "Around noon. Bye!"
Gu Zhuoyan led the dog into the shade and waited until Zhuang Fanxin's shadow had faded from the corner of the street before slowly walking over as well. After a few minutes, he signed a delivery receipt and brought the pair of shoes home.
It really was scorching. Just a little bit of movement and he was sweating all over.
Zhuang Fanxin got down outside the art gallery. There wasn't much of a crowd outside, since not many were foolish enough to sacrifice themselves for art. He stood waiting in an obvious place. The air was hot and humid, and the sun was burning his skin red. Only when sweat had drenched his back thoroughly did Pei Zhi finally appear on the other side of the road.
He was exactly half an hour late. Zhuang Fanxin yelled, his throat smoking, "You better run!"
Pei Zhi rushed over, gasping for air. "I'm so so sorry… I was getting tailgated… and then traffic was at a standstill for the whole stretch of road… I had to get down and take the metro…"
Both of them looked as if they had just emerged from a sauna, faces florid. Passing the ticket booth, they entered the gallery and were greeted by a blast of goosebump-raising cold air. Zhuang Fanxin sniffed and asked, "How was Japan?"
"Classes every day, wasn't it the same for you last year?" Pei Zhi replied. They had different interests: Pei Zhi liked clothing design, whereas Zhuang Fanxin liked jewellery design, so they somewhat complemented one another.
"Did you go to the art gallery in Mitaka?" asked Zhuang Fanxin.
"I did. I even wrote a blog post. I'm sure you didn't see it."
Indeed, Zhuang Fanxin hadn't. It was a niche foreign blog with posts from many designers. At first, he had posted a few photos himself, but after a while he grew too lazy to sign in.
Then he thought of something else. "Did you bring me a present?"
Pei Zhi withdrew a small, light bag from his backpack, with a delicately wrapped gift box within. It was a Japanese bathrobe. Zhuang Fanxin liked it very much; he wrapped an arm around Pei Zhi's shoulder and promised to treat him to lunch.
The art gallery was large. They walked around it until noon, leaving to find a nearby restaurant for lunch. As they waited for their order, Pei Zhi read the magazines in the restaurant, while Zhuang Fanxin fiddled about with his gift.
His phone lit up. Distracted, Zhuang Fanxin took a look. It was a text from Gu Zhuoyan: "Not back yet?"
"No, I'll go back after lunch," he replied.
Zhuang Fanxin grew suspicious. When they met this morning, Gu Zhuoyan had asked him when he was coming home; now he was asking again. Was there something he needed help with? But there was no follow-up after his reply. He couldn't resist asking, "Is something the matter?"
Gu Zhuoyan: "No."
How confusing. The other day, with no other message history, he mysteriously asked about his height; today he sent yet another strange text. Zhuang Fanxin couldn't control his curiosity, asking again, "Seriously, what's going on?"
Gu Zhuoyan ignored him. On the other hand, Pei Zhi prodded his arm and showed him a page of his magazine. He looked: it was a pair of very beautifully designed sneakers, which had yet to be officially released.
"Do they look good?"
"Yeah."
"When do they come out? I'm thinking of getting them."
"It's six thousand, you might as well buy art supplies."
They talked it over like two girls. When the dishes arrived, they put down the magazine and began to eat. Zhuang Fanxin had spoken rationally, but his gaze was quietly drawn to the magazine, and he could not stop himself from deciding to save up his allowance.
Based on his temperament, he wouldn't be able to save enough. It would be wonderful if Zhuang Xianyang gave him a pair.
Though it was a meal for two, Zhuang Fanxin and Pei Zhi ate less than a third of it, perhaps losing their appetite in the heat. In the afternoon, they didn't have much energy left to wander about. Before any obvious symptoms of heat stroke could appear, they quickly split up at the crossroads.
Zhuang Fanxin took a taxi home. He got down from the car at the corner of their street, slightly dizzy as he held his present and walked. From afar, he spotted the German Shepherd sitting outside his gate.
Bewildered, he walked over and saw that the dog's leash had been tied to their gate. As soon as he untied it, the German Shepherd ran homeward, then stopped after a few steps to eat a piece of jerky on the ground.
The dog was drawn by the jerky, and Zhuang Fanxin was drawn by the dog, running from his gate to the Xues'. The gate was ajar. He brought the dog in and went to the first floor living room to look for its owner.
"What's all this?" Zhuang Fanxin asked the mysterious boy.
"I was waiting for you," replied Gu Zhuoyan. He wasn't certain when Zhuang Fanxin would reach home, so he had left the German Shepherd out there for some air, naturally attracting Zhuang Fanxin over.
Zhuang Fanxin grew even more curious. He sat to the side and stared at the other, a head full of sweat. No longer hiding, Gu Zhuoyan lowered his head and looked at Zhuang Fanxin's feet, feeling more assured.
He took the bag from the coffee table and handed it to Zhuang Fanxin, saying directly, "For you."
"For me? Why?" said Zhuang Fanxin, clearly surprised.
"To thank you for your help," Gu Zhuoyan replied concisely.
"Ah, you know what they say, a neighbour nearby is better than a relative far away…" Zhuang Fanxin hadn't expected Gu Zhuoyan to be so polite. Even less did he expect that when he opened the box, he would find the pair of sneakers he had seen in that magazine an hour ago.
He looked at the shoes, then looked at Gu Zhuoyan. He looked at Gu Zhuoyan, then looked at the shoes.
Gu Zhuoyan was baffled by this expression. He really did lack experience in giving gifts, and suspected that he had chosen this present poorly. But whatever it was, he had already bought it, so he said, "They're not bad."
Zhuang Fanxin had mixed feelings. The flowers had come from his garden, the design for his room was a favour to Xue Maochen, and the scrawl he did was even less valuable than that. But these shoes cost over six thousand. He said in a small voice, "These are really expensive."
Inexplicably, Gu Zhuoyan breathed a sigh of relief. He could tell that Zhuang Fanxin was satisfied with the gift, so that meant he hadn't failed.
Zhuang Fanxin liked it indeed. He looked at the shoe size and found it was the right one, immediately understanding why Gu Zhuoyan asked for his height. Suddenly embarrassed, he said, "I actually added 2cm to it."
"I guessed," said Gu Zhuoyan. "You look 173cm at most."
"…" Zhuang Fanxin licked his dry lips. You're a talker, he muttered inwardly. He held his present and took his leave, but as soon as he rose, he fell back down to the sofa.
At that moment, his phone received a text from Pei Zhi: "I think I have a heat stroke."
Zhuang Fanxin lay on the sofa and giggled, "Haha, it really was too hot today, my friend even got a heat stroke."
Gu Zhuoyan looked at that red face and lifted the corner of his lips. "What are you laughing at? Looks like you did, too."
—
1.Pei Zhi pronounced "pay-tch".