FQ chapter 9

Although Luan Ye had said back on the mountain that he was hiring Fan Qing for three months and that he’d be on call anytime, after returning to the village, he ended up resting for several days.

He felt great during the sunrise, but once he got back home, the exhaustion hit like a tidal wave, making him too lazy to go out or see people.

On top of that, the weather changed, and it rained for days on end. Most of the time, Luan Ye just slept in his room. At most, when the rain stopped, he’d go downstairs to walk around the courtyard and help with digestion.

After several days of sleep, the rain finally stopped.

Luan Ye had an afternoon nap until around two, then was woken by the sound of a guitar downstairs.

He washed his face and opened the door to look down.

Qiao Feibai had the day off and was sitting in the courtyard strumming and singing. Luan Ye had heard this song a few times in the past few days. Qiao Feibai said he’d written it himself.

Granny Mu sat nearby embroidering things—insoles, belts, shawls—the local handicraft vendors would collect them and resell them to tourists.

Qiao Feibai looked up and immediately spotted him. The guitar stopped, and he called out loudly, “Ye-ge, come down for tea!”

The weather was cool. The three of them sat under the big tree drinking floral tea.

Large dried rosebuds bloomed again in the clear teapot as boiling water revived them.

“The tea’s from the girl who stayed next door before. She left it behind in the tea room.”

Qiao Feibai sounded nostalgic.

“She was an art student abroad. Came to western Sichuan alone on vacation, then Yunnan, stayed here for half a month, and later went to Tibet by herself,” his eyes sparkled. “She was amazing. So cool. An amazing painter. Even had a really cute name.”

With so many compliments, Luan Ye took a sip of tea and said, “You liked her, huh?”

“A secret crush. I even wrote a song for her.”

Qiao Feibai rested his chin on the table dramatically, sighing.

“Later, when we chatted, she said she had two older brothers. I thought, damn, game over. No way her brothers would be okay with someone like me, just a guy who sings in a bar.”

Granny Mu gave him a side-eye, a little annoyed. “Come on. Ruier herself didn’t like you either.”

Luan Ye laughed for a long time, then asked, “Why don’t you do something else for a living?”

“I love it. I’ve loved singing since I was a kid. Wrote my first song in high school. Learned guitar, sheet music, arrangement, lyrics—all by myself.”

Qiao Feibai scratched his head a bit shyly. “I even posted it online, hoping it’d blow up. But no one listened. Got maybe 200 plays, and I probably listened to it 190 times myself.”

Granny Mu and Luan Ye both laughed. Luan Ye said, “That’s still impressive.”

Qiao Feibai grinned. “Ye-ge, you don’t know. My grandparents are doctors. My parents, my uncles, my cousins—everyone in my family is a doctor. They had my future all mapped out before I was even born.”

“Then came the college entrance exam, and I saw what they picked for me—an entire list of top medical schools in the country!”

Luan Ye laughed so hard he leaned back, while Qiao Feibai looked devastated. “At that moment, I thought my life was over. After a year of studying, I dropped out.”

“My parents—”

His expression darkened for once, looking truly troubled.

“They were furious. My dad had a heart episode, my mom cried her eyes out, said she couldn’t sleep for nights.”

“Then the whole family ganged up on me, trying to get me to retake the exams. I said I’d rather die. So they said fine—then they wouldn’t care about me anymore.”

“Don’t blame your parents.” Granny Mu stopped stitching and sighed. “They’ve lived longer and know which roads are hard. They just don’t want you to suffer.”

Qiao Feibai shook his head. “I don’t blame them. Honestly, a lot of times I feel guilty. When my mom cried, I cried too—quietly.”

“But I couldn’t help it, really.” His voice was sincere. “Even if they stay mad at me for life, I can’t go back.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Granny Mu threaded another needle.

“No real parent stays mad at their kid for life.”

Luan Ye’s hand paused while pouring tea, and he glanced over.

Granny Mu continued, “Everyone has their own way of living. If you choose it yourself, don’t complain. Take care of yourself first, and your parents will be fine.”

Qiao Feibai was so moved he leaned on Granny Mu’s shoulder, wailing, “Granny Mu, I’ll write a song for you too! People actually listen to my music now—I have over twenty thousand followers on streaming apps!”

“Get away from me!” she smacked him twice. “Leaning over with a needle still in my hand!”

Luan Ye laughed watching them. Then he asked, “What’s the name of that bar you sing at? You didn’t say last time.”

“Damn! I didn’t?!” Qiao Feibai jumped up. “It’s on the west side of the village. It’s called Go See the Mountains.”

Luan Ye nodded. “I’ll come listen to you sing tomorrow.”

“Hell yeah!” Qiao Feibai got hyped immediately and grabbed his guitar. “Why wait till tomorrow? I’ll sing for you now!”

It’s not the same as going to support you in your venue… Luan Ye felt like sighing. Watching Qiao Feibai’s youthful enthusiasm, he also felt… maybe he was getting old.

“Finally got some peace,” Granny Mu looked at Luan Ye. “And you go and provoke him.”

Luan Ye just smiled without saying anything.

Qiao Feibai didn’t get to sing for long. After two songs, a friend messaged him. A scheduled singer at a café had bailed, and they asked if he could fill in.

Qiao Feibai agreed without even asking about pay, grabbed his guitar, and ran off, telling Granny Mu not to save him dinner.

The courtyard suddenly fell quiet. After finishing the tea, Luan Ye added more water and put the pot back on the little stove to boil.

The only sound left was the gentle bubbling of the flower tea.

“When he first came here, he was small and skinny, looked younger than my grandson. I asked what he was doing here, and he said, ‘I like it here. I want to sing here!’”

Granny Mu lowered her voice to Luan Ye. “I thought, just a kid talking big—he’ll be gone in a few days.”

Luan Ye couldn’t help but laugh.

“But he stayed. Been here over a year now.” She smoothed out her thread. “He really likes it here. And he truly loves singing.”

She glanced at the young man beside her. “When you came, I could tell you didn’t like this place.”

Luan Ye paused, turning the teacup in his hand.

“When I rent out rooms, most people look around, take photos, try to haggle. You didn’t look at anything, didn’t say a word.”

“You looked sick, face cold, and not happy.”

“Really?” Luan Ye asked. “I thought I smiled a few times.”

“Everyone can smile,” Granny Mu flipped the insole over.

“Whether that smile is real happiness—only you know.”

Luan Ye didn’t reply.

The teapot clicked into keep-warm mode. He poured a cup for Granny Mu, then one for himself.

He waited until the tea cooled before speaking again.

“Maybe more than being unhappy myself… I’m afraid of making others unhappy.”

Granny Mu looked at him. Luan Ye paused again, then said,
“Because no matter what you do, there’ll always be someone who tells you, ‘If you do this, the people who love you will worry, be sad, be disappointed.’”

“And then you start to think you really did something wrong.”

Granny Mu said seriously, “Don’t do anything illegal or harmful.”

“Of course,” Luan Ye chuckled. “Do I look like that kind of person?”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Granny Mu said. “All you do is sleep all day and never go out.”

“…You’re scolding me.” Luan Ye smiled, sipped his tea, and continued:

“It’s not like he treats me badly. He’s really good to me. He prepares everything for me, just hopes I stay put, do nothing, ask nothing, and best of all, always listen.”

Granny Mu studied him. “You don’t seem like the obedient type.”

“Mm. I’m not.”

Luan Ye put down the cup, as if thinking of how to explain.

“…Maybe I used to be.”

But now, he didn’t want to be anymore. That part he didn’t say aloud. But the old woman probably understood.

Granny Mu’s needle looped through the insole again, drawing a quiet arc in the air.

“Doesn’t sound like he treated you all that well.”

Luan Ye was silent for a moment. “He’s taken care of me for quite a few years.”

Life, work, relationships, daily needs—everything.

“Your parent?” Granny Mu asked.

“No.”

“Relative?”

“…Sort of,” Luan Ye paused. “I call him big brother.”

He’d been calling him that for over ten years.

Granny Mu gave an “Oh” and didn’t press further.

“If you know you’re unhappy, then start by making yourself happy. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, why worry about others?” she said. “In this, you’re not even as good as Xiao Qiao.”

“…Maybe not,” Luan Ye replied with a smile.

Qiao Feibai was much more carefree than him—because he knew what he wanted.

“Go out more. Walk around more.”

Granny Mu gave the back of his hand a dismissive pat.

“I’m over seventy and I still go out to play mahjong in the afternoon. You, on the other hand, just sleep all day.”

Luan Ye couldn’t stop laughing. His phone buzzed twice. He looked—it was Fan Qing.

Fan Qing: [Going out tomorrow?]

What a coincidence. Luan Ye smiled and responded to Granny Mu with an “Okay,” then typed back a simple [Sure.]