Wen Jiuzhe knew that night was the student council dinner, but he hadn’t expected Wen Xuan to be there too, and that Xue Ling would be drunk.
Because of what he heard on the phone, his heart sank. He brought Lin Guosheng with him and went over.
When they arrived, they didn’t see anyone else—only Xue Ling and one of her friends waiting at the entrance of the KTV.
He grabbed the swaying Xue Ling with one hand and asked the girl beside her, “What happened, was she bullied? Did Wen Xuan even lay hands on her?”
The girl waved her hands awkwardly. “No, no, it’s… Lingling hit Wen Xuan.”
“We ran into Wen Xuan and his group at the KTV. Wen Xuan came over to talk to Lingling, I don’t know what he said, Lingling wasn’t very happy, so she drank a bit. Then suddenly she started arguing with Wen Xuan.”
To everyone’s surprise, Xue Ling slapped Wen Xuan across the face. The commotion on the phone had been Wen Xuan, after reacting, angrily trying to hit back, only to be restrained by the people around him.
Everyone was verbally persuading him, saying, what are you doing arguing with a drunk girl when you’re a guy.
But inwardly they were thinking, everyone knew Xue Ling’s temper. Even though she hadn’t been very easy to talk to lately, she wouldn’t pick a fight for no reason.
Wen Xuan must have said something unpleasant to her and pushed her too far—when a rabbit is cornered, it bites. Otherwise, how could Xue Ling have hit him?
They restrained and persuaded Wen Xuan, keeping him in the private room, and brought Xue Ling out.
“You live with Lingling, right? We’ll leave her to you—take good care of her.”
The girl seemed a little afraid of the tall, inscrutable-looking Wen Jiuzhe. After saying that, she hurried back into the KTV.
Wen Jiuzhe supported Xue Ling with one hand and had her sit down on a long bench. Pinching her chin, he shook it slightly. “You actually dared to hit Wen Xuan, you’ve really grown capable… what did he say to you?”
Xue Ling looked at him slowly, as if she couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“Did Wen Xuan bully you? Talk.”
Xue Ling scrunched her eyebrows into twisted caterpillars, her face twisting as well, and said slowly, “Xiaoxiao, I want to throw up.”
Wen Jiuzhe: “……”
Almost instinctively, he covered her mouth and directly lifted her up, finding a trash can.
After a bout of retching, the drunk person lifted her head again and said, “Xiaoxiao, I want to throw up.”
Wen Jiuzhe: “……aren’t you already throwing up.”
He supported her with one hand and used the other to gather her hair, so it wouldn’t get dirty.
After she finished vomiting, he steadied her, his large hand smoothing from the back of her neck down to her back.
Beside them, Lin Guosheng said in his booming voice, “Ninth Brother, why is she calling you Xiaoxiao, hahaha, is that your nickname?”
Wen Jiuzhe turned his head to look at him. “Why are you still here?”
Lin Guosheng said, “Wasn’t I following you the whole time?”
After sending the unnecessary helper away, Wen Jiuzhe casually wiped the mouth of the person who had finished throwing up, then picked her up.
The drunk person grabbed his ear and slurred, “Xiaoxiao, you—you…”
She dragged out the “you” for a long time, but never remembered what she was going to say next.
Wen Jiuzhe lightly patted her back in reminder. “Don’t call me Xiaoxiao.”
Wen Jiuzhe only entered the Wen family at the age of twelve. Before that, he wasn’t called Wen Jiuzhe.
Wen Jiuzhe was a name given by the old Master Wen. Unlike Wen Xuan’s and the Wen family sisters’ names, his name came from the nine rules the old Master Wen set for him when he entered the Wen family.
Wen Jiuzhe couldn’t be bothered to remember the specific contents. Simply put, they were meant to make him obedient like a dog.
Before entering the Wen family, he took his mother’s surname and was called Li Xiao.
According to his mother, when he was born his mouth already curled upward, looking like he was smiling. His mother felt he would definitely grow up to be a child who loved to smile.
After he got his new name, no one called him by his old name anymore. Only occasionally would his mother call it once.
When his mother talked to him on the phone, she had called his childhood name, and Xue Ling heard it. At the time, Xue Ling didn’t react to it, nor did she mention it afterward.
He hadn’t expected that once she was drunk, it would start hanging on her lips. It seemed she had laughed at him quite a bit deep down.
“Can’t—call—it, got it?” he emphasized.
Xue Ling stared blankly at his expression for a while, then suddenly her eyes reddened. “Don’t be fierce to me, I’ll get scared.”
Wen Jiuzhe: “?”
He was almost amused to anger. All this time, when had he ever been fierce to Xue Ling? Even after being hit by her, he still smiled at her—no matter how bad his temper was, he had never vented it on her.
But Xue Ling, still clutching his ear, began hiccupping softly. “I’m scared when people are very fierce, angry. I get scared.”
Wen Jiuzhe hissed and tilted his head, trying to dodge her hand.
Normally she didn’t seem to have much strength, but once drunk, a bull-like force came out. Her face looked pitiful, yet she was just about to rip his ear off.
Wearing an expression of having suffered an enormous grievance, her hands were as rough as a child’s, tugging at his hair with no sense of measure, her chin knocking against the top of his head again and again.
“Don’t be fierce to me, don’t be angry…”
Wen Jiuzhe wanted to pry her off, but was afraid she’d rip out his hair and scalp along with it.
The back of his neck was wet. He didn’t know if it was from her tears or her drool.
Holding her, he walked past a street corner. Nearby, there was a mother holding her several-year-old child in the same posture.
The child was wailing loudly, wriggling in his mother’s arms, wanting his mother to agree to buy him snacks.
Both Wen Jiuzhe and Xue Ling were momentarily drawn by the child’s crying. Then Wen Jiuzhe realized that Xue Ling had also started swaying, starting to cry.
“You promise me, you promise me! Wuu!”
“Why are you copying him!”
Wen Jiuzhe could only be grateful that she didn’t copy the child and call him Mom. Numbly, he answered, “Alright, I won’t be fierce, and I won’t be angry… let go.”
Then this drunkard tugged at his hair and cried as she asked, “My hand, where is my hand?”
She couldn’t even find her own hand, yet her learning ability was quite strong.
Wen Jiuzhe didn’t know where her obsession came from. No matter what he said to her, she just went back and forth saying she was afraid of people getting angry and losing their temper.
He had no choice but to agree to her several times, firmly promising that he wouldn’t lose his temper with her.
“Fine. No matter what happens in the future, I won’t get angry with you, and I won’t lose my temper at you, alright?”
He agreed only after being tormented to that point, but when she woke up the next day, she didn’t remember this at all.
Later, whenever she messed something up, did something wrong, or accidentally hit him too hard, she would secretly look at him, wearing an expression of “it’s strange that he’s not angry even about this.”
Wen Jiuzhe didn’t remind her. He just wanted to see when she would remember it on her own.
But judging by her brain, she wasn’t going to remember it.
It was actually just a line agreed to casually, yet he treated it like a vow and remembered it for quite a long time.
Sometimes it wasn’t even directed at Xue Ling, but when he thought of the way she said she was afraid of people losing their temper, the irritation and anger in his heart would suddenly subside a little.
Xue Ling felt that the medicine was still somewhat effective. Although Wen Jiuzhe had vomited after taking it, after feeling unwell for a day, he recovered his spirits.
The weather was nice. Wen Jiuzhe parked the car by the river, flipped out a whetstone from the car, sat by the river, and sharpened the short knife he commonly used.
Amid the “ka-cha ka-cha” sound of sharpening, Xue Ling stiffly raised her hand and touched her own neck.
The quality of Wen Jiuzhe’s short knife was very good. After chopping so many zombie heads, the blade hadn’t chipped, but it inevitably became dull and needed sharpening.
That morning, Wen Jiuzhe had smiled and chatted with her, and suddenly had the interest to sharpen a knife.
It was just that the sound of sharpening made Xue Ling very nervous.
Wen Jiuzhe noticed Xue Ling’s sneaky glances and felt like laughing. He flicked the blade and called Xue Ling over.
When Xue Ling walked over to his side, Wen Jiuzhe narrowed his eyes and deliberately said, “The knife is almost sharpened. Come try whether the blade is sharp.”
Xue Ling: “!”
Try it with what? My neck?
She snatched Wen Jiuzhe’s knife, sat down in his spot herself, and started helping him sharpen it. As for Wen Jiuzhe, she chased him off to cook.
“Cha, cha”—the rhythmic sharpening sound rang out by the river again.
Holding a spatula in one hand, Wen Jiuzhe flipped the pan-fried meat in the pot, occasionally lifting his head to look at Xue Ling.
She was sharpening very seriously.
Xue Ling understood why Wen Jiuzhe sharpened knives. This kind of repetitive, regular work was somewhat stress-relieving.
Watching the river water wash away the grime, watching the blade surface get polished bright and become sharp, gave a sense of accomplishment.
While Wen Jiuzhe was cooking, she was sharpening the knife. After Wen Jiuzhe finished eating, she was still sharpening the knife.
“Sharpening it like this is enough,” Wen Jiuzhe went over to remind her.
Xue Ling shook her head. She hadn’t sharpened enough yet.
Wen Jiuzhe said, “If you keep grinding, you’ll grind my knife away completely.”
Seeing that Xue Ling still hadn’t had her fill, he turned around and rummaged through the car, pulling out several knives—different sizes, some even rusty.
How could there be so many knives?
“When you’re out and about, how could you have only one knife? This one is the most useful now. I used those less before.”
Xue Ling switched to a rusty knife and, full of interest, started grinding again.
The very first stage of grinding off rust and grime was the most satisfying.
From these chipped knives, Xue Ling seemed to be able to see the countless battles Wen Jiuzhe had gone through.
This knife had a chunk broken off the tip.
This knife still had a bloody handprint on the handle.
Xue Ling picked it up and examined it carefully, not certain whether that handprint belonged to Wen Jiuzhe.
Xue Ling got addicted to grinding knives. She was still grinding while Wen Jiuzhe went to sleep. He called out to her twice, but she refused to put it down.
Without realizing it, Wen Jiuzhe fell asleep. In the middle of the night, he suddenly woke in fright because of a dark figure standing in front of him.
Xue Ling stood before him with a stiff, wooden expression, looking down at him, holding a gleaming knife in her hand, water still dripping from the blade.
Seeing that he was awake, she shoved the knife up to his eyes.
Wen Jiuzhe: “……”
“Is it okay ground like this?” Xue Ling slowly extended the writing board again.
“…It’s fine now,” Wen Jiuzhe said. Watching Xue Ling lift the knife and return to the riverbank in the darkness, he could no longer fall asleep.
Now it was Wen Jiuzhe’s turn to feel nervous listening to the cha cha sound of grinding.
Xue Ling ground knives to her heart’s content in one go, thinking to herself that this was far more fun than playing cards or flying chess.
The next night, they stayed at a roadside safety camp enclosed by a fence. Conditions didn’t allow it, so Xue Ling didn’t get the chance to grind knives through the night again.
In the camp, aside from Wen Jiuzhe’s two-person single car, there was also a convoy made up of three cars. There were men and women in the convoy, young people and elderly alike—it seemed to be one big family.
They sat together eating and chatting.
Compared to them, Wen Jiuzhe and Xue Ling, with their car parked in the corner, were very quiet.
Every time Xue Ling stayed overnight at a camp, she remained in the car. She thought this time would be the same. Unexpectedly, Wen Jiuzhe observed the convoy across from them for a bit, then suddenly pulled Xue Ling out of the car.
Wearing gloves, Xue Ling clenched his hand, nervously looking toward those people opposite, then guiltily pressed at the sunglasses and mask on her face.
“It’s fine. We’re in the corner, and it’s dark over here with no lights. No one will notice,” Wen Jiuzhe reassured her.
He unfolded two chairs and set them out in the open space beside the car, sitting there together with Xue Ling.
The people in the convoy glanced their way a few times, then quickly looked away and stopped paying attention.
The two sides weren’t far apart, and the voices carried clearly.
After her initial nervousness passed, Xue Ling slowly relaxed, listening to the big family chatting not far away.
The son complained that there wasn’t enough salt in the noodles and they had no flavor, and his mother scolded him for being too fussy.
A young girl took out the seasoning packet from the instant noodles, triggering a scramble among several brothers and sisters of similar age.
A middle-aged couple picked out some meat and vegetables and gave them to the oldest elder, saying, “Dad, eat more.”
The elderly man said okay, then turned and picked up a chopstickful of meat and gave it to the eleven- or twelve-year-old child beside him.
“Dad, eat it yourself, don’t worry about him.”
“Mom! Look at big brother, he’s snatching my seasoning packet!”
“What are you picking on your younger sister for? Hurry up and give it back to her!”
“I want some too, sis, give me a bit!”
…
Xue Ling’s hand was always being held by Wen Jiuzhe.
She tilted her head up to look at the stars in the sky. These sounds carried her back to before the disaster happened, when she was still among the crowd, living ordinary, peaceful days.
