The sun remained blindingly bright, the palm fronds shimmering with a greasy green luster. The neatly cut stone path in front of the house radiated heat. Pei Cangyu changed into a pair of flip-flops, put on a pair of shorts and a loose short-sleeved shirt, and followed Bai Shi out the door.
They were supposedly going to the market.
Pei Cangyu’s clothes had been handed to him by Bai Shi; he had no idea when the man had found the time to procure such things. Pei Cangyu looked exactly like a tourist—if he’d had a camera around his neck and a little red flag in his hand, he could have passed for someone on a guided tour.
He glanced at Bai Shi beside him. The guy had actually found himself a pair of sunglasses. Upon closer inspection, his short-sleeved shirt was the exact same style as Pei Cangyu’s grey one, only Bai Shi’s was white. He also wore khaki cropped pants with showy gold thread embroidered along the hem, and on his feet were the flat-soled skate shoes that were Pei Cangyu’s favorite style. Pei Cangyu felt a prickle of resentment; Bai Shi looked like a local—not that he stood out, but he possessed a certain effortless composure.
Pei Cangyu scuffed his flip-flops against the ground. "Hey, why do I have to wear flip-flops? Get me a pair like yours."
Bai Shi looked down at him, pressing a finger against the bridge of his sunglasses so he could peer over the frames. "They didn't have your size."
Pei Cangyu clicked his tongue. Bai Shi draped an arm around his shoulders. "Do you know why there weren't any shoes for you? Because I was the one buying. And do you know why I didn't buy you those? Because you can't run in flip-flops."
"..."
Pei Cangyu shoved Bai Shi’s arm away. "Get lost. Aren't you hot?"
At the entrance of the market, they bought a pancake that looked like it was filled with ice cream. Pei Cangyu ate as he followed Bai Shi inside. He glanced back at the intersection; if he headed east from there, he would reach the bank they had visited last time.
Bai Shi didn't eat street food. He started off walking quite fast, but when he realized Pei Cangyu wasn't keeping up, he slowed his pace. "What's wrong?"
"Huh? Nothing. I just can't walk fast in flip-flops," Pei Cangyu said, dawdling as he walked. He stopped at every stall, specifically squeezing into the most crowded areas.
The market was bustling. It was late afternoon, nearing dusk, and because the stalls were starting to pack up, the vendors seemed even more enthusiastic. They shouted in languages Pei Cangyu couldn't understand, occasionally interspersed with English that amounted to nothing more than "YES YES NO NO." As he walked, Pei Cangyu thought to himself that aside from the goods being sold, people all over the world made their living in much the same way.
The people in the market dressed similarly, though there were almost no Asian faces. Occasionally, he saw women who appeared to be from the Middle East; they weren't bundled up like the images on TV, but instead wore vibrant long skirts and intricate headpieces. When they walked past, they left behind the crisp tinkling of bells and a lingering scent of almonds.
He stopped in front of a stall where the owner was selling tortoises to a mother and son. Pei Cangyu reached out and flipped through a book on the counter. It was a simple annotated guide. He was almost at the point of looking for the words he cared about most.
A palm came down, covering the book.
Pei Cangyu didn't need to look up to know who it was. He licked his ice cream, pretending to just be browsing, and picked up something else to fiddle with.
Bai Shi picked up the book. "Oh, Basic English."
Pei Cangyu turned his head. "Is it? I didn't look closely."
Bai Shi held the book and watched him for a moment, then smiled. "Do you want to buy it?"
Pei Cangyu glanced at Bai Shi, then looked away with feigned indifference. "Whatever. I don't have any money anyway."
Bai Shi lowered his head to flip through it, then found several other similar books. He looked up, said something to the owner, and bought them all. Pei Cangyu’s heart hammered in his chest. He swallowed hard, looking away as if he didn't care.
They continued forward, but Pei Cangyu didn't dare go too far; if he couldn't remember the way back to the bank, he’d be screwed. Consequently, he walked exceptionally slowly. Bai Shi, meanwhile, kept buying similar books. Surprisingly, there weren't many of them.
Pei Cangyu watched Bai Shi pay and carefully tuck the books into his backpack. His Stockholm Syndrome was acting up again. Thinking about it, Bai Shi really did grant every request; even a Bodhisattva wouldn't provide feedback this quickly. Yeah.
Further into the market, the stalls gave way to individual shops. The path here was narrow and winding, as if hidden away, snaking upward. The further they went, the sparser the crowds became. On either side of the road were small shops with open wooden doors, selling goods that were impossible to identify. In front of one shop, a dying snake flicked its tail; across from it, an old woman was drinking a bowl of blue water. As she drank, she used her other hand to squeeze green grass juice into the bowl. She suddenly looked up at Pei Cangyu, who was staring at her. Her dark green pupils were devoid of luster, giving him a start.
"Hey, where are we going?" Pei Cangyu hurried to catch up with Bai Shi.
"Just ahead."
Before they reached "ahead," Bai Shi stopped in front of a shop window. He peered through the glass at something inside. Pei Cangyu stopped as well, following his gaze. "What are you looking at?"
He didn't actually need to ask; he saw it too.
There was an item exactly like the cheap necklace that used to hang around Pei Cangyu’s neck.
Pei Cangyu was about to snark, *“How did this piece of junk cross oceans and continents?”* but then he remembered that his own necklace was currently on Bai Shi’s person, which made him feel an indescribable awkwardness.
So, he kicked Bai Shi’s shin and said impatiently, "Hey, are we going or what?"
Bai Shi turned to look at him, a smile on his face as he pointed at the item. "Do you remember that?" He made a move to pull the one from his own neck, but Pei Cangyu cut him off quickly. "I don't know. Can we hurry up? I'm hungry."
His impatient attitude was like a bucket of cold water dumped over Bai Shi. Something that a certain someone had specifically stolen and worn for so many years—something he hadn't thrown away even when it caused an allergic reaction—and Pei Cangyu didn't have the slightest interest in it.
Bai Shi said nothing, picked up his bags, and continued walking.
Pei Cangyu caught a glimpse of his expression and lowered his eyes, following behind him. To be honest, if he could just stop caring about Bai Shi’s feelings, many things would never have happened in the first place.
He, Pei Cangyu, absolutely had to recover from this Stockholm Syndrome.
Dusk fell.
Today’s sunset was blood-red.
Following the silent Bai Shi, Pei Cangyu found himself standing by a river.
"Holy crap, we walked all this way just to come to a river, big brother?" Pei Cangyu was tired and hungry. He flopped onto the ground, dangling his flip-flops. "What are you planning to do? A picnic?"
Bai Shi glanced at him and crouched by the riverbank.
Pei Cangyu laughed from behind him. "Going to catch fish with your bare hands? I'm an expert at that. If I hadn't retired from the world, I’d show you my 'Eighteen Strokes' technique today..."
Bai Shi ignored him and didn't look back. He placed his messenger bag on the ground and stood up, seemingly looking for something near a tree.
As the light faded, everyone looked like a blurry silhouette to Pei Cangyu. He could only see children chasing each other on the opposite bank and hear the sound of a bicycle passing by. Combined with the evening breeze, it was actually quite nice.
He whistled, watching Bai Shi. "What are you looking for? Want me to help?"
Bai Shi seemed to have finished his search. He walked back to the riverbank, and Pei Cangyu saw him stuffing stones into the backpack.
"What are you stuffing those in for—"
Then Bai Shi stood up and, with a swing of his arm like a shot-putter, hurled the backpack far into the river. In the deepening twilight, Pei Cangyu watched the bag get caught in the current and quickly drift away.
Before he could react, he stared dumbfounded at Bai Shi, who walked over and crouched beside him.
"Now, let me explain something to you. As you can see, this isn't an English-speaking area. It's not even a tourist area. That market just now is a large-scale market that only happens once a month. I asked the owner earlier; he said those books are for tourists. He got a shipment of the same stock six months ago, and besides him, there are seven or eight other shops—they all know each other because they sell similar goods. So, I followed his directions and bought all of them." Bai Shi stared at him, his expression calm, his gaze tender. "Just in case they couldn't sell them and left them to the local shops when they moved on. I suspect there are none left now."
Pei Cangyu blinked blankly.
Bai Shi smiled slightly. "You see, I’m quite serious about the way I do things. I chose this place carefully; I can't let it be ruined by a couple of 'Basic English' books." He tilted his head. "By the way, I don't recommend calling the police. But if you absolutely must, I hope you bring enough water when you go looking for them. That way you won't be too thirsty before I bail you out. Police stations never give water to people in custody."
Pei Cangyu didn't move. He watched the demon’s mouth opening and closing, speaking as if this were a perfectly natural matter that had nothing to do with him. But he broke out in a cold sweat. Especially when the sun suddenly dipped below the horizon, Bai Shi’s face was instantly swallowed by darkness.
The next second, the lights along the bank flickered on. Bai Shi’s face was illuminated, looking deathly pale. Pei Cangyu shuddered, scrambled backward using both hands and feet, then rolled over and scrambled up. He ran forward as if his life depended on it, with only one thought in his mind: *Escape. Now.*
Bai Shi watched Pei Cangyu, whose lips were white and pupils dilated, run toward the darkness. He finally lost his mask of composure, cursed under his breath, and gave chase.
He quickly tackled Pei Cangyu, pinning him to the ground. Pei Cangyu struggled frantically in a daze, as if he had returned to that warehouse, losing his senses.
"Get off me! Dammit! You bastard, go to hell! Die!" He swung his arms, shoving at Bai Shi’s face, and spat viciously. He bit the hand Bai Shi reached out toward him, screaming at the top of his lungs for him to get lost.
Fortunately, Pei Cangyu hadn't eaten; Bai Shi was able to restrain him without letting him get away, letting him thrash for a while. After screaming for a bit, Pei Cangyu choked on his own saliva and lay on the ground, coughing violently.
Bai Shi helped him up, draping Pei’s limp arm over his own neck and holding him by the waist. He patted him twice. "It's okay, it's okay. It's over..."
Pei Cangyu pushed at him weakly. It was as if his bones had been removed, or as if he had simply given up. He rested his head on Bai Shi’s shoulder and closed his eyes wearily.
Bai Shi asked cheerfully, "What do you want to eat?"
Pei Cangyu didn't answer.
Bai Shi turned his head to kiss his cheek, smiling. "Then I'll decide."
Pei Cangyu’s forehead pressed against his shoulder. After a long silence, he said in a muffled voice, "Why don't you just kill me? I'd be more obedient that way."
Bai Shi let go of him, held him upright, and stared into his eyes. He said seriously, "No."
Pei Cangyu looked at the expression in his eyes and suddenly asked, "Bai Shi, can you let me live a little more happily?"
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
人字拖 | Flip-flops | Literally "character 'ren' (人) slippers" due to the shape of the straps.
板鞋 | Skate shoes | Flat-soled sneakers, often associated with casual or street style.
七分裤 | Cropped pants / Capris | Literally "seven-tenths pants," ending between the knee and ankle.
十八摸 | Eighteen Strokes | A reference to a bawdy folk song/technique; here used jokingly by Pei to refer to his "fishing skills."
斯德哥尔摩 | Stockholm Syndrome | Transliteration of the psychological condition.
