ATLAS TRANSLATES

“Brother, let’s be sworn bros!” “You’re my brother now!” “Why are you so quiet, brother?” “Brother, come here, give me a hug!”

Before Hao Ming could finish playing the video, Yang Shikun tried to grab his phone. He stood up holding the phone out of reach. Yang Shikun jumped on him, knocking him back onto the sofa as he tried to snatch it.

Hao Ming stared at his round ears for a moment before looking away, saying: “You don’t know how long you were laughing yesterday.”

The worst part about getting drunk isn’t the drinking – it’s having someone remind you what happened afterward.

Yang Shikun covered his mouth: “Stop, Big Head. I don’t want to remember. It’s too embarrassing, I’ve lost all face.”

Hao Ming just stared at him directly.

Yang Shikun let go, realizing he was practically straddling him, and got off: “I was going crazy by the telephone pole yesterday – did anyone see?”

“What do you think? Your drunken antics scared away two aunties. They thought you’d escaped from a mental hospital.”

Yang Shikun grabbed a sofa pillow to cover his face, trying to bury himself in the couch: “Why didn’t you stop me? So embarrassing. I’ll wear a mask when I go out from now on.”

“You think I could stop you?”

Seeing Yang Shikun still hiding his face, Hao Ming pulled him up: “I’m kidding, nothing happened.”

“Really?”

“Really. Let’s eat.”

Only then did Yang Shikun sit down to eat properly. After eating, he sprawled on the sofa texting Xu Si. Hao Ming looked at his exposed nape – so thin and white, bones clearly visible. He sat beside him and squeezed his neck.

Yang Shikun turned to look: “Giving me a massage?”

He lay face down on the sofa: “Go ahead.”

“…”

“You’re acting like an old master.”

Hao Ming said: “I’m your Master Yang.”

“Get lost.”

Though Hao Ming cursed, his hands still kneaded Yang Shikun’s shoulders. He could feel the bones protruding from his back. His hands moved down along the shoulder blades, his elbows gently circling on his back. Yang Shikun hummed contentedly.

Hao Ming gripped his waist with both hands, kneading a few times. His waist was soft and thin, impossibly white, not at all like a boy’s. Before Yang Shikun could speak, Hao Ming said: “I need to use the bathroom.”

Yang Shikun didn’t suspect anything: “Go ahead, that was a great massage. Big Head, you must have learned this somewhere.”

Standing in the bathroom, looking at a certain area, Hao Ming muttered to himself: “You’re hopeless.”

He’d known Yang Shikun since elementary school, though he’d transferred away for a few years. When he returned in ninth grade, he learned from others that in seventh grade, Yang Shikun had been bullied and Xu Si had saved him. He regretted leaving during those years, unable to protect him then, but was grateful Xu Si had appeared. The little boy who used to stand in front of him saying he’d look after him gradually became shorter than him, but remained just as talkative, just as prone to silly smiles.

Later the three became good friends. Xu Si was quiet, fierce in fights, loyal, and thoughtful. Hao Ming deeply respected Xu Si and valued his friendship.

He’d noticed since childhood that he was different from others – he wasn’t interested in girls. In ninth grade, he had a dream that woke him to this reality. When everyone in the dorm was discussing their first crush on a girl, only he knew he didn’t like girls.

Yang Shikun leaned back on the sofa playing with his phone, stuffing a soup dumpling in his mouth. Twenty or thirty minutes later, Hao Ming emerged from the bathroom.

Yang Shikun crossed his legs, looking at him: “Big Head, did you fall in? Took you long enough.”

“Screw you.”

“Have some dumplings.” Yang Shikun pointed at the dumplings on the table.

Hao Ming looked at them: “I’m not hungry. You eat them.”

“Okay.”

Hao Ming watched him eat several youtiao, a box of dumplings, a box of soup dumplings, half a bowl of congee, a bowl of wontons, and half a jianbing. He glanced at the exposed strip of blindingly white waist, so thin and slender. He really didn’t know where all that meat went.

After finishing, Yang Shikun wiped his mouth with a paper napkin: “I’m full.”

Hao Ming sat beside him and stuffed the remaining half jianbing in his mouth. Yang Shikun was protective of his food. He looked at the jianbing in Hao Ming’s hand: “Why are you eating my jianbing? I was going to eat that.”

“Didn’t you say you were full?”

“I can still eat even when I’m full.”

Hao Ming: “…”

He put the jianbing back in Yang Shikun’s hand: “Here, you eat it.”

Hao Ming watched him finish his jianbing, then turn to stare at Hao Ming’s jianbing. He held it to Yang Shikun’s mouth: “Just one bite.”

One bite meant one bite, but Yang Shikun took a huge mouthful. Hao Ming looked at his puffed cheeks, wanting to ask if he’d ever eaten before. He put water in front of Yang Shikun and continued eating the rest of his jianbing.

Jiang Rong’s life returned to how it was before. After breakfast, she would start doing practice problems. After finishing several test papers, she set them aside.

She opened the window, feeling the sunlight warm on her body, comfortable and cozy. There was warm tea on her desk. Sunlight always favored beautiful people – the light on her face made even the young girl’s hair strands sparkle, sweet and obedient.

Near noon, she packed up her books, planning to visit Jiang Zhixu. On Sundays when Jiang Zhixu wasn’t busy, she would always visit her.

She carried bubble tea and pushed open the shop door. Jiang Zhixu wasn’t downstairs, probably busy taking photos upstairs. Jiang Rong checked the time, deciding to wait downstairs for a while.

Around noon, Jiang Zhixu came down. She immediately spotted Jiang Rong sitting by the window – wearing a light blue jacket over a black pleated skirt, hair in a high ponytail, looking very proper and well-behaved.

She saw Jiang Rong look her way and instinctively turned away. Jiang Rong stood up and walked over, looking at Jiang Zhixu’s back: “Ah Xu.”

Jiang Zhixu adjusted her collar, making sure it was covered, before turning to give Jiang Rong a forced smile. Jiang Rong noticed her movement and gently pulled at her collar to look, clearly seeing three finger marks on her neck. She stared at Jiang Zhixu’s neck: “Who did this, Ah Xu?”