FWP Chapter 9

Chapter 9: 9. Talent is an Annoying Thing

Speaking of Chen Buchu, Wanderer remembered what Zhou Zhao had said before, wasn’t there a brother of Chen Buchu named Chen Buqing? He thought the name Chen Buqing was pretty good, one more character than “Wanderer,” three characters felt more stable.

After Zeng Haitang collapsed in bed, Wanderer’s first thought was to borrow money. But from whom?

His maternal uncles were all broke. To marry off their sons and buy houses, they had invested even their coffin money.

He borrowed from a few, writing IOUs. His eldest maternal uncle, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, pointed at the IOU with his stained yellow fingers, saying, “You silly kid, what are you writing about cents? Erase them, erase them.” His second maternal uncle, taking advantage of his wife’s inattention, led him to the room for storing sundries, opened the wooden cabinet in the farthest corner, and squeezed out a few large bills from behind his late mother’s photo frame to stuff into Wanderer’s hands. After stuffing them, his wife yelled for him to hurry outside and find their granddaughter to come home for dinner. The second maternal uncle walked away as if nothing had happened.

Wanderer also thought of Zhou Zhao. Zhou Zhao didn’t have money, but Zhou Zhao’s family was very rich. When he was in his third year of high school, his family even hired a nanny for him. “I’ll just borrow a little bit,” he thought, “that money might just be a drop in the bucket for him.”

Thinking this, Wanderer took out his phone. He first sent Zhou Zhao a photo.

A few days after Zeng Haitang had her first surgery, Wanderer went home and moved the fruit sent by Zhou Zhao to the hospital ward. Zeng Haitang wanted Wanderer to give Zhou Zhao some mountain products from home as a return gift. She was happy, elated, and asked the woman in the next bed to take a picture of them. She loved taking pictures the most. She wore the wig she had prepared long ago, removed her breathing mask, and put on a new piece of clothing. The grandmother and grandson sat on the hospital bed, taking a group photo against the backdrop of the withered branches outside the window and the gray buildings. Several copies of that group photo had been printed. One was placed in front of the portrait of her husband, who had passed away twenty years ago, one was burned for Wanderer’s parents, who had died in a car accident, and one was placed in the hospital ward, specially put there by Wanderer to encourage Zeng Haitang’s rehabilitation.

Wanderer wanted to send this photo, but also wondered how to steer the conversation to the matter of borrowing money.

He typed: Thank you for the gifts you sent.

Deleted.

Then typed: Can I talk to you about something?

Deleted.

Wanderer struggled for half an hour, and finally packed a large bag of mountain products and took it to the express delivery point to send to Zhou Zhao.

Wanderer: Thank you for the gifts you sent. I also sent you a gift. It’s not valuable, just some stuff from our own mountains. Don’t dislike it.

Zhou Zhao: You cut your hair

Wanderer: Yeah.

Wanderer: Is it ugly?

Zhou Zhao: Energetic But you look good with long hair

Wanderer: Okay.

Wanderer stared at the emoticon, tugging at the ends of his hair. Do I really look good with long hair?

He walked towards the bus stop while looking at his phone. It was almost time to buy lunch for Zeng Haitang, and Wanderer was worried about where to buy some cheap beef.

His phone vibrated. Zhou Zhao sent a message – Are you having guests at your house?

Wanderer became nervous and quickly went back to look at the background of the photo. Fortunately, it didn’t look much like a hospital, more like a building. He made up a few sentences, wondering if he could steer the conversation towards borrowing money. He deleted and typed, asking if old people could eat out-of-season fruits.

At this moment, someone riding a motorcycle stopped and called out his name. Chen Buchu, with dyed red hair and dressed in the “hooligan” style that Zeng Haitang described.

Chen Buchu took Wanderer to the hospital. He bought a large fruit basket and visited Zeng Haitang before the afternoon arrival time.

The old folks always said that you can’t visit patients in the afternoon, there’s a dark meaning of the sun setting and being on your last breath, which is bad for the patient. Wanderer found that Chen Buchu had changed a lot. He used to swear, every sentence asking about your mother and your father and your entire family, but Chen Buchu after graduation must have done big business, almost worthy of the word cultured.

Zeng Haitang spoke in fragments, her saliva accumulating at the corners of her mouth. After a long time, it would fall down. Chen Buchu rushed in front of Wanderer to wipe it for her. He listened patiently, even though they had no common topics. After chatting for a while, Zeng Haitang needed to urinate. Wanderer grabbed her arm and placed it on his shoulder. He put his arm around her waist, slowly helping her to the toilet. Chen Buchu followed and waited at the door.

He heard Wanderer say, “Pee, don’t look at me. I’m not going out.”

Zeng Haitang made a sobbing sound, meaning for him to go out. Wanderer had no choice but to stand outside the stall door. When he turned his head, he saw Chen Buchu. There were a few bloody marks on Wanderer’s arms. These were all from Zeng Haitang’s grip. She couldn’t control her strength, let alone her temper. Several times when going to the toilet, Wanderer couldn’t support her properly, and was afraid of her falling, so he stubbornly knelt on the ground first, cushioning Zeng Haitang.

While seeing Chen Buchu off, Wanderer was still thinking about how to borrow money from Zhou Zhao. Chen Buchu walked outside the ward, leaned against the handrail on the corridor wall, and stopped. He held his helmet, turned his head, and watched Wanderer close the ward door properly.

“Bro, do you want to come work with me? With Grandma like this, it must be tough for you, right?”

Chen Buchu’s red hair had a heavy smell of chemicals, the ends translucent, the same color as the sunset glow spilling in at the end of the corridor. In Wanderer’s eyes, this color slowly settled and darkened, finally becoming a memory as thick as blood plasma.

“Chen Buchu’s family has always been a bit shady. They’ve been running underground casinos for many years, and they’re considered the richest in our area. The jobs he gives me make money really fast, but they’re a bit immoral.”

A strange stench permeated the courtyard. Yu Zipei’s snail noodles had arrived, and Wanderer’s chicken soup was still on the way. She ate with a greasy mouth, asking what kind of job it was.

Wanderer looked down at his hands. If the world really had such a thing as talent, his talent was pointed in the direction he hated most.

“Cheating at gambling.” Wanderer sat to the side. Unfortunately, the entire courtyard was filled with the sour smell. He moved his fingers, and after blocking them, an ID card appeared in his fingers. Yu Zipei’s eyes widened, “Holy shit!”

“Chen Buchu and I have been in the same school since we were little. When we were little, we went to steal his dad’s money together. I was always successful. Later, his dad found out, and not only didn’t beat me, but also taught me a few tricks.”

“Teaching a kid to cheat at gambling.”

“Yeah, consider it a skill. He wanted to teach Chen Buchu, but Chen Buchu was too stupid to learn. After we met, Chen Buchu introduced me to his family’s casino to deal with those who won too much. He said this was called… planned economy.”

“You’re selling, selling your conscience?”

Wanderer showed a sad expression. He returned the ID card to Yu Zipei, ruefully: “The day my grandma took me away from Chen Buchu’s house, she said a lot of begging words, and also said a lot of harsh words. She told me why she could get me back on credit, because she had a conscience, and the Chen family believed her.”

He changed the topic, “What a load of crap. She doesn’t have any conscience. How much is conscience worth anyway?”

Yu Zipei echoed, “Conscience is crap.”

“But I need it now.”

Yu Zipei was speechless by his two sharp turns, and lowered her head to eat her snail noodles.

Only to hear Wanderer say again: “I went to work that night. The first two days I took care of a guy named Pan. Chen Buchu gave me five thousand yuan. He said there would be more in the future, and all of them would be earned by my personal labor.”

“This Chen Buchu, did he mess around in high school?”

Wanderer shrugged, “Didn’t take the college entrance exam, but he’s pretty good. He even gave me a holiday on Labor Day.”

As he spoke, the door outside was knocked. Wanderer got up to get the takeout.

He came back with the bag. Yu Zipei, who was browsing her Moments, suddenly said: “Why does Li Tinglin’s partner look so much like Zhou Zhao? Look.”

Wanderer sat over, not minding the smell of snail noodles, and carefully examined the phone.

Li Tinglin had posted a few photos of dishes, with a man caught in the corner. “It does look a bit like… but he’s not this thin, right?”

Yu Zipei: “Right? I thought so too. It’s hard for him to find such a handsome substitute. Mr. Zhou is in the United States of America.”

She belatedly realized what she was saying, glanced at the phone, and then at Wanderer in front of her, and couldn’t help but shudder again, cursing loudly, “Fuck!”

Followed by severalSnap——”Fuck! I’m fucked! I’m really fucked! Fuck! What a fucking mess! I fuck Li Tinglin!”

“I fuck his great-grandfather, fuck! I’m really impressed by you gays!”

The gay silently listened. Yu Zipei wiped her mouth, and with lingering interest, said: “So I grew up in a pile of mistresses. Mistresses are my best vibe.”

Wanderer didn’t refute, and actually agreed in his heart.

No wonder he’s so annoyed by this group of people, this group of people is just like this, loving and hating, never ending.

Wanderer hadn’t read “Tiny Times” and thought that the group of people who messed around with each other in the group were the group in front of him.

After cursing enough, Yu Zipei lit a cigarette, and she sneered: “Although you didn’t date Zhou Zhao, you must have been my third party at least three times.”

Yes. Three times, three times five times.

Wanderer wanted to laugh. How come it’s like the “Five-Year College Entrance Examination, Three-Year Simulation” that kids are writing now.

“Compared to borrowed money, I prefer the money I earn myself. Although the process isn’t glorious, in less than a month, I paid off all my debts and hired a caregiver for Zeng Haitang. Chen Buchu gave me a new phone card and also gave me a motorcycle.”

“Several times when I got off work in the morning, I wanted to drop out of school. It would be nice to live like this for the rest of my life. The money is readily available, allowing me to stay away from the hospital bed, away from the endless dirty diapers, away from the days of bowing and scraping to people. What’s the point of studying? Anyway, you have to come out and work.”

Wanderer was almost giddy. He wanted to live with more style than anyone else. This style had always been Chen Buchu’s father. That man had money and leisure, style and demeanor. Knowing that their family couldn’t pay back the money and couldn’t give back the child, he signed a so-called IOU, lightly letting them off the hook.

That period should have been his lowest point, but he didn’t fall like usual, beaten down and unable to even crawl up from the ground. He had money. The money allowed him to escape responsibility. The money gave him freedom. He was a free and wealthy person.

Just as he was floating higher and higher into the sky like a hydrogen balloon, the person holding the string came.

What was Zhou Zhao’s expression when he found out? Anger? Disbelief? Contempt? Disgust?

He sent Zhou Zhao to a hotel, never expecting that he would turn around and follow him here. How should he introduce himself, workplace? Internship company? There’s still a pool of blood on the ground. Shouldn’t you not chop off people’s fingers after signing a contract and getting on the gambling table?

Did Zhou Zhao see me screw that person over? Can he understand the rules? If he knows that I’m the one who made that person lose two fingers, will he rush over and slap me?

“I said this matter is a bit immoral, right,” Wanderer asked Yu Zipei for agreement, and he reached out to show Yu Zipei his complete ten fingers, “My first job in life was actually similar to a secretary, helping the leader solve problems. It’s just that the consumables are more expensive and non-renewable.”

Yu Zipei suspected that he had been spending too much time with Chen Buchu and had mixed up some knowledge. Was Wanderer joking? Why didn’t I think he was so humorous before? Did I ever give him a fortune reading? Besides the unusually short life line, wasn’t there also a sentence about a good career line… Fuck.

Tonight was Wanderer’s personal memories special. The person giving the special always eats less than the audience, because his mouth is always occupied.

Yu Zipei couldn’t wait to know what happened after Zhou Zhao followed to the casino. Wanderer had to pause opening the takeout box.

Meeting Zhou Zhao in that place made Wanderer lose seven of his three souls. In essence, he’s a pretty bad person. How could someone who hung out with Chen Buchu be like that simpleton in front of Zhou Zhao? But Zhou Zhao likes simpletons, Wanderer couldn’t help it.

“Zhou Zhao initially wanted to fight Chen Buchu. He thought Chen Buchu was leading me astray.”

“Me, I was a bit confused. To be honest, before, when Zhou Zhao asked me to play cards with you, I was a little scared. I was afraid you would lose too many times, damaging my image. I can’t lose the face I worked so hard to maintain.”

Yu Zipei, with the superiority of having defeated everyone in Beijing, gave him a big “Roll!”

Wanderer took the opportunity to drink a mouthful of chicken soup. He finally relaxed. Then he thought of something, and began to worry, glancing at Yu Zipei. Yu Zipei was creeped out by his big eyes, cursing, “What are you looking at your sister for! I don’t have any scallions on my face.”

“Oh, I don’t eat scallions. I love cilantro.”

Yu Zipei: “Who asked? Continue!”

Wanderer stirred the spoon, looking at the chicken soup in the light of the mosquito zapper, the color was terrible, a thousand points disgusting, ten thousand points vomit-inducing. He hesitated and said, “I’m not sure whether to objectively and neutrally tell you what happened next.”

“Do you like to hear people talk about sex? Not a dirty joke.”

[The author has something to say]

Catching up on homework, I’ll finish it by Saturday (the 24th).