Priest

These last few weeks, Lang Qiao had often remembered Fei Du’s secretive look before he’d left that day. Each day on the way to and from work she’d let her imagination fly; she had already gone through a string of labels like “seizing by force” and “sadomasochistic love,” visualizing a soul-stirring erotic television drama—only there had been too much stress at work lately, so she hadn’t had time to leak any “spoilers” to Luo Wenzhou, one of the main characters.

An autumn rain shower had passed a few days before. Comrade Lang Qiao was so startled by Fei Du’s sudden appearance that she stepped into a pool of water at the gates and nearly fell flat on her face, flailing her limbs and clinging onto the wall.

Hearing the movement, Luo Wenzhou turned to look at her. First, this damn gay guy jeered at her pose. Then he said, “Why are you wearing high heels to work? None of us can see you unless we’re looking down. We all know you’re short.”

Lang Qiao: “…”

She rolled her eyes and straightened out her heel with difficulty, firmly biting back the warning she’d been about to give him. She thought, Well, it’s his funeral.

Luo Wenzhou had frequently worried about him before, although that had been while he’d still been little; since Fei Du had grown into a 360 degree scoundrel without a blindspot, there’d been nothing worth worrying about.

Sometimes when you stood looking out into the street, watching the people pass by, men and women, young and old, you’d feel that they were all about the same. You’re wearing a button-down and pants, and I’m also wearing a button-down and pants; you looked down and saw that the old people jogging by the street and the golden-haired, green-eyed foreigners were wearing the same brand of sneakers, almost giving you an illusion that the whole world was one.

The people living in the sun couldn’t imagine the inescapable and customary torment that the smiling and chatting buddy next to them suffered, while a person deep in depression couldn’t understand that the human figures rushing past them really weren’t forcing themselves to smile.

I sometimes find that it can be very difficult for a person to escape his parentage and the surroundings he grew up in.”

Luo Wenzhou looked at him.

“Thoughts, habits, disposition, manners, level of virtue, cultural accomplishments… These things, which can be altered later, are like the branches and leaves of plants. As long as you’re willing, you can prune yourself into any direction.” Fei Du leaned back in his seat, looking out into Yan City’s night sky with his eyes narrowed. “But the deeper levels, the most essential things, are very hard to alter. The things you encounter in the earliest surroundings of your childhood, when you have no notions about the world, settle into your unconscious mind. Traces of these things will be hidden in all the abstract concepts you take in through your native language. You won’t notice it yourself, but those things will shroud your whole life.”

As clever as Fei Du was, he must be well aware of how he didn’t fit in, so he carefully wore a human skin, restricting himself to a circle, imitating Tao Ran, imitating Zhang Donglai, imitating all the people he came into contact with… Only in front of Luo Wenzhou, who’d thought so highly of himself when he was young and had always wanted to pry people’s painted faces off, had he given up the act, simply letting the human skin he wore hang loosely, letting him see the vicious fangs.

Our zookeeper is ten minutes late.

After a pause, Fei Du finally realized what he meant. “Wait, you think I asked you out because of this?”

Luo Wenzhou ignored him and went to open the door. Fei Du grabbed his shoulder.

“Shixiong.” Not only was Fei Du not angry, he was smiling. “I’ve wanted to ask for a long time, are you a little afraid of me?”

Luo Wenzhou nearly raised his eyebrows past the frames of his sunglasses. “Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?”

“Afraid I’ll squander your emotions, afraid I’m not in earnest, afraid you won’t be able to control yourself with me and won’t be able to end things…” One word at a time, Fei Du said, “Which of my guesses is right?”

was afraid that if he breathed too deeply he’d blow the earth out of the solar system.

Doors and locked courtyards deter gentlemen; they don’t deter villains. All kinds of laws and regulations seemed to exist only to control honest and decent citizens. Looked at like this, “honesty,” “decency,” “civility,” “sensibility”… These qualities were all errors that wouldn’t make you anywhere near as happy as a mad dog going around biting everyone.

Fei Du’s wholly unwavering voice was like a bowl of warm water, pouring into Luo Wenzhou’s ear over the phone signal. For some reason, his restless emotions were rinsed clean by these brief words. Luo Wenzhou put out his cigarette, pressed his thumb to his forehead, and for no reason at all very much wanted to see Fei Du.