LC chapter 42

 

Winter passed, spring came, and another year had passed. By April of the following year, Lin Ruan was almost ready to graduate. His classmates were busy doing different things: some were job hunting, some were going home to inherit the family business, and some were planning to study abroad.

Lin Ruan and Meng Zhen wore black student uniforms and stood in front of a crabapple tree. The branches were full of blooming flowers—a whole tree of blossoms, beautiful beyond words.

A classmate took a photo of the two of them. Though the photo couldn’t capture the colors of the flowers, it preserved the youthful energy of that moment.

Since Zhan Xi’s birthday banquet, Lin Ruan’s popularity had suddenly increased. Many classmates greeted him politely on the street and gave him friendly smiles. He was also invited to various events. When Lin Ruan mentioned this to Meng Zhen, Meng Zhen sighed and said that moral cultivation couldn’t earn a person a good reputation, but social status and position could.

Meng Zhen called this a case of taking advantage and still pretending to be innocent.[mfn]得了便宜還賣乖 (dé le pián yí hái mài guāi) is a Chinese idiom. It literally means “after getting a benefit (cheap gain), still acting cute or innocent.”[/mfn]

Lin Ruan took the camera back from his classmate. It belonged to Shi Ning, who liked tinkering with cameras and record players.

“What are you planning to do after graduation?” Lin Ruan asked Meng Zhen.

Meng Zhen replied lazily, “My brother wants me to do business with him, but my father wants me to continue studying abroad.”

The Meng family business was managed by Meng Zhen’s eldest brother. Things hadn’t felt significant before, but after graduation, some things suddenly changed. For example, his sister-in-law now came by every few days to ask if he was interested in the family business or if he wanted to compete for the inheritance. His father constantly repeated, “A harmonious family brings prosperity.”

Lin Ruan looked at Meng Zhen and asked, “Then what do you want to do?”

Meng Zhen said, “I want to become a girl and then get married.”

Lin Ruan gave him a strange look. Meng Zhen continued, “Don’t doubt it—if I were a girl, things would be much easier.”

“Forget it. Let’s not talk about that,” Meng Zhen said. “What about you? What are you planning to do?”

Lin Ruan thought for a while and said, “I might transfer to the architecture department and continue studying.”

“I guessed as much.” Meng Zhen looked at Lin Ruan and asked, “Does your master agree?”

“Of course he does,” Lin Ruan replied. “He’s very supportive.”

Meng Zhen said, “I thought the first thing you’d do after graduation would be to marry your master.”

Lin Ruan was stunned. Zhan Xi had brought up the topic of marriage before, but hadn’t said much about it.

That year, Lin Ruan learned a lot—about himself, Zhan Xi, his interests, and his values. He gradually realized that marriage wasn’t something that could be settled with just “I’ll listen to you, sir.” However, he still didn’t truly understand what marriage represented.

“No matter what, I really envy your life right now,” Meng Zhen said, looking at him. “You have food, drink, and someone who loves you. You even know what you want to do. The future’s looking bright.”

Hearing that, Lin Ruan felt a hard-to-describe emotion in his heart. He smiled, put the camera in his bag, and left with him.

After parting ways with Meng Zhen, Lin Ruan didn’t go straight back to the Lan Residence. He wandered through a maze of alleys until he stopped in front of an inconspicuous shop.

It was a tattoo shop that was usually quiet with few visitors. A child squatting at the entrance, eating a bun, saw Lin Ruan approaching and hurried inside to shout, “Customer’s here!”

Lin Ruan entered. The shop was small, with a counter and two chairs in the outer room. A curtain divided the outer room from the inner room, so you couldn’t see inside.

The walls were covered with drawings of tattoos, such as blue dragons, white tigers, and so on. The artwork wasn’t crude; it was clearly not made for street thugs.

A familiar face emerged from the inner room. He wore a black shirt and a string of red agate beads around his wrist. He still had the same roguish expression. “Got a customer?”

Lin Ruan was surprised yet oddly calm when he saw him—as if Suanzi’s sudden appearance in his life wasn’t strange at all.

“Master… changed professions?”

Suanzi didn’t answer, only teasingly saying, “Yo, a rare guest.”

Lin Ruan sat down, and Suanzi handed him a bowl of tea. The tea was so weak that you could count the leaves at a glance.

“You’re the tattoo artist?” Lin Ruan asked. “I’m here for a tattoo.”

Suanzi smiled mischievously. “Rebellious phase, huh?”

Lin Ruan pressed his lips together. He had already checked and confirmed that this was a trustworthy tattoo shop. If he left now, he wouldn’t know where else to go.

Seeing that, Suanzi stopped teasing him. “What do you want tattooed and where?”

Lin Ruan hesitated for a moment, but he decided to stay. “On my neck, near my left shoulder. I want the words ‘Zhan Xi.'”

Suanzi raised an eyebrow. “Do you have any design preferences?”

Lin Ruan didn’t answer, but instead asked, “Are you doing it for me?”

“Don’t dare,” Suanzi replied without looking up. “You’re too precious for me to touch.”

After a moment, Lin Ruan said, “With that sarcastic mouth, how has no one beaten you up yet?”

Suanzi just laughed. “I’m a feng shui master—who’d dare offend a feng shui master?”

Lin Ruan said nothing. Suanzi wiped his hands with a cloth and called toward the back. A white-haired old man came out.

He was old, but his back was straight, and he looked healthy.

“This is the tattoo artist,” Suanzi said. “Tell him what you want. He’ll design the pattern for you.”

Lin Ruan explained, and the old man picked up a brush and some paper. He wrote the two words “Zhan Xi,” then added decorative details to make them more beautiful. His strokes were steady. Lin Ruan was also good at drawing, but he couldn’t match the old man’s skill.

After some discussion, they finalized the design. It was so beautiful that Lin Ruan knew it was exactly what he wanted. He asked when they could start, and Suanzi said right away.

Before following the old man inside, Lin Ruan hesitated and asked if the man was skilled.

“Excellent,” Suanzi replied, fiddling with an abacus. “He used to tattoo criminals[mfn]tattooing criminals (刺字 / cìzì) was one of the “Five Punishments” (五刑) in early imperial China. It branding or tattooing words onto a criminal’s face or body, often marking their crime (like “thief” or “traitor”).[/mfn] in the palace—your job’s right up his alley.”

Lin Ruan swallowed his anger and went inside.

Suanzi found some anesthetic, but the old man didn’t know how to use it, so Suanzi administered it himself.

Lin Ruan lay face down on the recliner with his upper clothes removed and a white cloth covering his back, except for the area to be tattooed.

As Suanzi injected the anesthetic, he looked at Lin Ruan and laughed. “Scared? I might sell you later.”

Lin Ruan turned his head away, ignoring him.

The tattoo wasn’t big, but it still took several hours. When the anesthetic wore off, his left shoulder burned like fire.

By the time he left the shop, it was dark. He ran home, but Zhan Xi hadn’t returned yet. Zhan Xi had a social engagement tonight, and Lin Ruan had carefully calculated the time before getting the tattoo.

Uncle Tong told him to eat dinner, but Lin Ruan was avoiding certain foods and didn’t want him to notice. He said he’d already eaten outside and hurried upstairs before Uncle Tong could ask any more questions.

In his room, he took off his shirt and turned his back to the mirror to see the tattoo. The characters had the elegance of small seal script, but they were more refined and surrounded by lotus petal designs. On Lin Ruan’s fair skin, the tattoo looked both restrained and sensual.

It was late at night and Uncle Tong had gone to bed. Lin Ruan was too hungry to bear it, so he quietly went to the kitchen and made himself a bowl of steamed egg custard. He turned on only a small light, afraid of waking Aunt Cao with any noise.

He cracked three eggs into a bowl, added salt, and poured in hot water. He stirred constantly so that lumps wouldn’t form. The mixture turned pale yellow. He skimmed the foam off with chopsticks and set the bowl on the stove to steam.

The little kitchen was empty. The gas flame hissed softly and felt warm when you leaned closer. Lin Ruan waited idly and took a pocket watch from his coat to check the time. He wondered when Zhan Xi would return.

Soon, the aroma of the steamed egg filled the room. The custard was soft and smooth. Lin Ruan took it out and drizzled vinegar, sesame oil, and soy sauce on top. The color deepened slightly from the soy sauce. He tasted a spoonful—it was silky and tender, just right.

He was about to take it out to eat when he heard the door open. Zhan Xi was back. Lin Ruan stayed quietly in the kitchen, saying nothing. Zhan Xi exchanged a few words with Shi Ning, then started up the stairs.

Shi Ning went to his room, but Zhan Xi noticed the kitchen light was on.

He had only taken a few steps when Lin Ruan poked his head out.

“Sir.”

Zhan Xi’s expression softened a little. “What are you doing here?”

“Making a late-night snack,” Lin Ruan replied. “Would you like some?”

Zhan Xi nodded casually. Lin Ruan divided the custard into two bowls and placed a small porcelain spoon in each. They sat at the dining table under the warm yellow light, which made Zhan Xi’s profile look like a flawless sculpture.

Lin Ruan took a spoonful and looked at Zhan Xi. Without raising his eyes, Zhan Xi asked, “Something to say?”

Lin Ruan quickly shook his head.

Zhan Xi glanced at him. “You’re hiding something from me.”

Lin Ruan found it difficult to lie to Zhan Xi. When Zhan Xi beckoned him closer, Lin Ruan pushed his chair forward. Zhan Xi raised an eyebrow and placed his hand on the back of Lin Ruan’s neck. “Really hiding something from me?”

There was pressure in his tone. Lin Ruan flinched subconsciously, his left shoulder instinctively drawing back.

Zhan Xi eased his voice, sounding calmer now. “I don’t want to force you. If you don’t want to say, you don’t have to.”

Lin Ruan quietly exhaled. Seeing that, Zhan Xi sneered. “So you do have something to hide—and not a small thing, either.”

Lin Ruan looked at him. “You said you wouldn’t force me.”

“How many men’s words can be trusted?” Zhan Xi said. “I’ll give you a chance. Say it yourself, or else…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, leaving plenty to the imagination.

Lin Ruan had no choice but to tell the truth. He unbuttoned his shirt, turned around, and showed Zhan Xi the tattoo on his left shoulder.

Zhan Xi’s face darkened. “Lin Ruan, you’ve really got some nerve.”

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