Chapter 10

He was caught completely off guard, his body swaying, and instinctively he gripped Duan Qingshen’s arm to steady himself.

“Careful, it’s hot!” the waiter called out as he set the small clay pot on the table, then turned to receive another dish from a colleague.

“You’re pretty strong,” Liang Yuanxing remarked.

“You’re quite focused when you zone out,” Duan Qingshen replied. “Since this is your stall’s serving style, just sit like this.”

Liang Yuanxing had been like this since childhood—unable to control his wandering mind, sometimes drifting so far he’d lose phone signal. He nodded. “Alright, I’ll sit like this.”

The wedding banquet was lively, but inevitably noisy. Children screamed over the music, and the adults raised their voices to scold them, though it had no deterrent effect at all.

Most classmates attending the wedding had taken leave to make it, so after the meal, everyone hurried to leave—some had to catch high-speed trains. Afterward, everyone gathered by the hall entrance to bid farewell to the bride and groom, exchanging remarks like “Stay another night,” “No, no,” “Leave tomorrow, I’ll call a car to send you off,” “Seriously, check the message from the boss…” and so forth.

Duan Qingshen and Liang Yuanxing were the last to say goodbye to Zeng Xiaoyang.

“We’re heading off,” Duan Qingshen patted his arm. “Congratulations on the wedding.”

Zeng Xiaoyang didn’t try to stop them, only sighed. “You’d better hurry up too—I’m eager to drink at your wedding banquet.”

Duan Qingshen smiled, wrapping an arm around Liang Yuanxing’s neck. “If you’re counting on me, you might as well count on Xingxing.”

Liang Yuanxing, a bit slow on the uptake, asked, “What kind of wedding banquet would I have?”

“A birthday one,” Duan Qingshen half-joked. “Next year on your birthday, I’ll throw a banquet just like this for you.”

Liang Yuanxing frowned. “No thanks.”

There were too many children, the tables cramped, and the music too loud.

Zeng Xiaoyang asked, “Why not this year?”

“You won’t make it this year,” Duan Qingshen said. “We’re leaving now.”

He waved, loosening his grip on Liang Yuanxing. Liang Yuanxing obediently smiled and said goodbye. Before leaving, he slipped a piece of chocolate into Jiang Yu’s hand, noticing she looked both hungry and tired.

It wasn’t until they returned to the hotel to pack that Liang Yuanxing finally realized.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, wiping his helmet, suddenly enlightened. “Zeng Ge’s ‘wedding banquet’ was a way of urging you to get married?”

Duan Qingshen looked at him speechlessly. “Yeah, what other kind of wedding banquet could I have at my age, little Liang?”

Liang Yuanxing carefully wiped the helmet clean, then bent down to use the same moist wipe on his shoes. Just then, a hotel attendant rang the doorbell. Duan Qingshen went to open it—two sets of clothes, freshly washed and dried, were delivered at the perfect moment.

Liang Yuanxing moved to the motorcycle, plugged the charging cable into his phone, clipped it onto the mount beside the dashboard, adjusted the earphones inside his helmet, then turned on the walkie-talkie.

While he fiddled with the wires, Duan Qingshen checked the navigation.

They both turned simultaneously in the parking lot, approaching each other, and said—

“Shen Ge, could you help me fasten the walkie-talkie?”

“How about taking the Jinghu Expressway route?”

Then they answered in unison—

“Sounds good.”

“Works for me.”

The walkie-talkie safety clip was purchased at the store and attached under the helmet. The clerk had advised Liang Yuanxing to avoid clipping it to his collar to prevent it from constantly hitting his throat, given his riding gear. But he wasn’t quite skilled with the clip yet.

“All set,” Duan Qingshen said, fastening it for him and looked up. “I’ll share the navigation route with you.”

He tapped Liang Yuanxing’s helmet and smiled.

Their plan for the day was to cover 400 kilometers to Cangzhou, about eight hours of riding. Leaving the hotel parking lot precisely at two in the afternoon under clear skies, Liang Yuanxing pulled down his goggles, feeling good.

He picked a favorite song, set the playlist to shuffle, twisted the throttle, and hit the road. Everything went smoothly—even the first traffic light was green, a coincidence that made him feel the day was remarkably fortunate.

Over the walkie-talkie, Liang Yuanxing said, “If the road stays green all the way onto the national highway, I think we could go beyond Cangzhou today!”

Duan Qingshen brought the walkie-talkie to his lips. “Where do you think we can get to today?”

The voice on the other end was boastful beyond measure: “Thirty hours to Jiuquan, a couple of hours’ rest there, then seven hours blasting past Jiayuguan!”

“I’d be impressed if you can even cross the Yellow River Bridge today.”

“Ha ha ha ha!”

Eight hours and arriving in Cangzhou by ten at night was Duan Qingshen’s idea of the best-case scenario—no traffic jams, no queues at gas stations, no mechanical failures or accidents. Ideally, he hoped to cross the Yellow River today. Though not in a rush, it would be perfect to reach Dunhuang on his birthday, he mused.

Liang Yuanxing rode ahead as usual, Duan Qingshen followed. Without the tail box, the motorcycle looked sleek, and in Duan Qingshen’s view, the young man in full riding gear revealed not an inch of skin.

For the first time, Duan Qingshen grasped what people online meant by “handsome is a feeling.”

But then he reconsidered—it wasn’t necessarily the face, since that was hidden; the body shape was still visible.

Perhaps because the face was hidden, the figure became all the more important.

Their first gas stop was near Qingzhou’s roadside.

By evening, close to seven, darkness had fallen.

Duan Qingshen asked, “Want to eat something? There are a few shops ahead.”

They were near a small town, with a gas station at the national highway off-ramp, surrounded by several chain snack shops and mini-markets. Liang Yuanxing shook his head. “I haven’t even digested lunch yet, but I want to stretch.”

“Alright.” Duan Qingshen smiled, putting Liang Yuanxing’s helmet on the back seat of his bike and closing the door.

Duan Qingshen had expected to bring cold and pain medicine for the long ride but found they also needed digestive tablets.

“You’ve got to watch your diet,” Duan Qingshen said on the way back to the gas station.

Liang Yuanxing understood what he meant. “But it was really delicious—my first time having sea intestine rice.”

Duan Qingshen sighed. “Just because it’s tasty doesn’t mean you should overeat.”

Liang Yuanxing pursed his lips. “I usually only realize I’ve overeaten after the fact.”

Back at the gas station parking area, Liang Yuanxing stretched luxuriously, squinting his eyes and humming softly, clearly enjoying the moment. Duan Qingshen guessed this was his first time heading north and that he viewed everything in northern cities through a pleasantly filtered lens.

Just as Liang Yuanxing was about to put his helmet back on and continue, he suddenly remembered something and turned sharply.

“Shen Ge!”

“Hm?”

“My ukulele!” Liang Yuanxing darted toward the Jeep’s trunk like stepping on a snake. “I still have desiccant in the case. Quick, open it—I need to take it out!”

“Desiccant?” Duan Qingshen opened the trunk and found the ukulele case inside.

He unzipped it and found three packets of desiccant. Liang Yuanxing took them out, saying, “I can’t leave them in there; the humidity at home can reach 99%.”

Duan Qingshen nodded in agreement.

After dark, Duan Qingshen took the lead, with Liang Yuanxing following. There were still more than 300 kilometers to Cangzhou. Duan Qingshen said over the walkie-talkie, “No more rushing today. After crossing the Yellow River, we’ll find a place to stay.”

“No problem.”

The provincial road section was poorly lit and riddled with potholes. Elderly men on three-wheeled bikes ignored the distinctions between motor lanes and bike lanes, displaying a fearless disregard for life and death.

Duan Qingshen drove almost in a fury. Electric bikes ignoring traffic lights were one thing, but there were also seniors zigzagging and going the wrong way.

Compared to that, Liang Yuanxing riding behind was much more relaxed, unaware of Duan Qingshen’s state; he only heard a car horn after passing a no-honking zone.

“There’s a group chatting in the middle of the road!” Duan Qingshen explained over the walkie-talkie.

“Ha ha ha ha,” Liang Yuanxing laughed. “You were holding that in? But honking is banned on the provincial road…”

Still, Liang Yuanxing was in high spirits.

Even when faced with an epic traffic jam, he smiled brightly.

Duan Qingshen had thought the road would be clear off-season, but they were stuck in a complete standstill more than ten kilometers south of the Yellow River Bridge.

It was nine at night. Liang Yuanxing had one leg down, parked beside Duan Qingshen’s bike.

He didn’t even hold the handlebars, took off his helmet, set it on the gas tank, and breathed in the cool night air deeply. Duan Qingshen teased, “Are you inhaling exhaust fumes?”

Liang Yuanxing nearly choked. He turned to Duan Qingshen inside the car. “Bro, all the engines around us are off. No exhaust.”

Duan Qingshen shut off his engine too, as many ahead had gotten out to stretch. The jam looked set to last indefinitely.

Liang Yuanxing kicked the side stand, stretched his shoulders and neck, then rested his arm on the window frame of Duan Qingshen’s passenger seat. “Get out, we’re stuck here for a while.”

Duan Qingshen agreed and stepped out, lighting a cigarette. The driver behind came over to borrow a light. Liang Yuanxing joined the conversation.

“Brother, it’s not a holiday or festival—why’s the traffic so bad tonight?”

The man lit his cigarette, returned the lighter to Duan Qingshen, and said, “There was a major accident up ahead—a multi-vehicle pileup.”

He added, “I heard an overloaded big rig lost control, failed to brake, and crashed into the oncoming lane. Life and death happen in an instant.”

Liang Yuanxing was momentarily stunned. Duan Qingshen grabbed his wrist and led him back to the bikes.

They never made it across the Yellow River that night. They crawled with the traffic to the nearest town, ate burgers and fried chicken, and found a small inn to stay.

That night, Duan Qingshen received a call from his mother.

The call lasted only a few minutes, mostly Duan Qingshen reassuring them. It was clear his parents already knew about his resignation.

The inn room was small, and they shared the same one, so Liang Yuanxing heard him say last, “I understand—there’s no medicine in the world for regrets.”

After the call ended, Liang Yuanxing tried to close the gap in the curtains and said, “There is a medicine for regrets in this world.”

“What?” Duan Qingshen looked at him.

Liang Yuanxing turned back. “There is—it’s called a tattoo sticker.”

Then he lifted the side of his T-shirt, revealing a cluster of clouds inked on his waist.

“Nice,” Duan Qingshen said.