Pei Cangyu still remembered receiving the phone call at school. It was six in the evening; the sky was a bruised, heavy dark, and the streetlights had already begun to flicker on in some places.
He didn't even wait for the bus, running all the way home.
He skidded to a halt at the entrance of the residential compound, gasping for air. From a distance, he saw Pei Yueshan hanging upside down from the railings of the gate. He hung there, suspended, seemingly still dripping blood. Nearby, police officers were taking photographs, surrounded by a throng of onlookers and a cacophony of noise.
Pei Cangyu couldn't move. He stared from afar, his legs refusing to take a single step forward.
For a moment, he didn't know how to feel; there was only a very strange sensation.
He felt a sense of liberation, a release from the constant, gnawing question of "why is this happening?" But now, it didn't matter. The world was fair after all. A man like Pei Yueshan truly didn't deserve a good end.
This was justice. Pei Cangyu felt as though his entire worldview had been reconstructed.
But then, from beside him, came his grandmother’s heart-wrenching wails. She collapsed to her knees with a heavy thud. People nearby rushed forward to try and help her up, but she was crying so violently she seemed on the verge of fainting.
Pei Cangyu couldn't cry.
He wanted to go forward to support his grandmother, but the moment he thought of his own feeling of liberation, he felt a wave of guilt toward her.
And so, he remained frozen.
He would always remember the sunset that night, how it eerily framed Pei Yueshan’s hanging corpse. Such a terrifying dusk should have been a nightmare—the dusk of a broken family—yet Pei Cangyu didn't feel a shred of fear. His heart felt light, as if it might float away, though not out of happiness.
That bizarre day.
It was his birthday.
***
Pei Cangyu woke up amidst streaks of flowing light. He turned to look out the car window; they were driving along a wide, straight road. Streetlights stood along the roadside, glowing with a warm, orange-red hue. The road seemed to stretch on without end, and the night wind brushed against his face.
He turned his head and saw Bai Shi’s profile as he drove, his features flickering between light and shadow under the intermittent lamps.
Bai Shi turned to look at him and offered a small smile. "You're awake."
Pei Cangyu stared at his face, slowly sitting up. Looking at this man who was as beautiful as an angel, he asked, "Did you kill him?"
Bai Shi didn't speak, but the corner of his mouth quirked up.
Pei Cangyu rolled down the window and gazed outside. "Where are we going?"
The wind tossed Bai Shi’s hair. It had grown longer again, showing its natural curls and remaining a glossy, deep black. He turned to Pei Cangyu. "Let's go wandering."
Pei Cangyu sat up straighter, leaning closer to Bai Shi’s face. "Do you like me?"
Bai Shi was silent for a moment, then shook his head.
Pei Cangyu leaned against him, looking up. "What do you want?"
Bai Shi didn't answer. Pei Cangyu tried to sit back, but Bai Shi suddenly grabbed his arm. His grip was incredibly strong; Pei Cangyu felt as if he had been bolted in place.
Yet Bai Shi still didn't speak. He kept one hand on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Pei Cangyu watched him with wide eyes. His lips were naturally rounded, giving him the slight appearance of pouting for a kiss. Bai Shi glanced at his lips, then looked away.
Bai Shi asked him, "And you? What do you want?"
Pei Cangyu thought for a moment. "I want to be happy. I want my wishes to come true."
Gazing at the road ahead, Bai Shi said, "Of course you can. You just have to follow me."
Pei Cangyu looked at his profile but did not give an answer.
