Chapter 18

――Didn’t touch your puzzle.

Ning Qiuyan stared at this line for a long time. It was just a simple sentence, yet it made his face flush red. In fact, when he wrote that note, he hadn’t expected Guan Heng would definitely see it. Who would have thought Guan Heng not only saw it, but even replied to him like this.

Passing messages by paper and pen was already rare in this era. This back-and-forth between him and Guan Heng had become a way of communication that belonged only to the two of them, carrying a hint of intimacy that was hard to put into words.

This made Ning Qiuyan’s heart feel as if it was being gently tickled by a feather.

Then he looked again at the first line: “Use it to play even more beautiful melodies,” and at the simple “Guan” signature at the end.

He felt a bit annoyed at himself for not coming home earlier, for not seeing Guan Heng’s gift sooner.

He carefully placed the note into a book he often read, tucking it away.

The gloom and dejection of the past half month vanished in an instant. He felt as if he had come alive again, his mood suddenly light. The guitar Guan Heng had given him, he only took out to gently touch for a while, reluctant to play it, and then put it back carefully.

Ning Qiuyan was too embarrassed to call Guan Heng, so he sent him a message instead, as a polite gesture to acknowledge the gift.

Additionally, he very honestly expressed his regret at not being able to accept the gift, because it was simply too precious for him.

Guan Heng didn’t reply.

It wasn’t until evening, on his way to work at N°, that Ning Qiuyan finally received Guan Heng’s message, responding to his comment about the guitar being too valuable to accept.

Guan Heng: [A musical instrument only has value when it’s played.]

Lu Qianque had told Ning Qiuyan that Guan Heng used to play some instruments too, but hadn’t played in a long time.

Reading this message, Ning Qiuyan felt a sudden stir in his heart, as if he understood what Guan Heng meant.

To give the instrument value again.

Rather than price.

Guan Heng’s reply was as brief as his usual speech, making Ning Qiuyan unable to stop wondering what kind of expression Guan Heng had now, what he might be doing. He suddenly remembered that Guan Heng’s schedule was completely different from his own, which was why he only replied in the evening.

Looking at the time the message was sent, he guessed Guan Heng must have seen his message as soon as he woke up.

Ning Qiuyan put away his phone and continued on to N°.

When he entered, a colleague smiled at him, and only then did he realize the corners of his mouth were lifted.

N° had been much livelier lately, and the resident band had returned.

That night, they performed several rock songs with great energy, the place filled with screams. Ning Qiuyan also shouted along several times. But only the regulars knew that Ray, the band’s lead singer, only sang one song that night; the rest were carried by the band’s backup vocalist. Even so, Ray’s electric guitar performance was poor, with quite a few mistakes.

After some time away, Ray looked even worse, and his once excellent voice was no longer the same.

During a break, Ray came over to the bar, where Ning Qiuyan was cleaning up glasses left by customers. Ray spoke to him, inviting him to join the band.

“You’ve got a good voice, you sing well, and you play multiple instruments,” Ray said. “If you join, I’ll give you the lead singer spot. I can play electric guitar, do backing vocals, whatever.”

Ning Qiuyan wiped the water from his hands, turned around and said, “You already have a backup vocalist.”

Ray’s backup vocalist was right beside them, chiming in, “I agree, come on, Xiao Ning, we really can’t go on like this.”

The backup vocalist lacked technique and couldn’t sing ballads. Recently, all their performances relied on his shouting to hype up the atmosphere. While it easily fired up the crowd, it definitely couldn’t last in the long run.

Ning Qiuyan was young, and the backup vocalist worried he might be hesitant, so he assured him, “If you join, we’ll split the earnings evenly. Just help us out for now, and when Ray gets better, you’re free to go.”

Ning Qiuyan shook his head and declined, “Sorry, I really don’t want to be on stage.”

Ray laughed, “But you’re heading to the conservatory, you’ll see way bigger stages than us. Still afraid of performing?”

Ning Qiuyan just replied with an “Mm,” then went back to cleaning up and serving customers.
As soon as he left, Ray asked, “What’s going on? I remember he used to love singing.”

The first time Ning Qiuyan came to N°, he was mesmerized by the band’s performance while working, and everyone laughed at him for it-though in a friendly way. Back then, everyone knew this kid was proud and ambitious; he had come to N° through a recommendation, hoping to become a resident singer. But since he was underage, the boss quietly kept him on as a waiter, planning to let him sing on stage when he was older.

The backup vocalist told Ray he’d said the wrong thing: “He can’t get into the music academy anymore. You really know how to hit a sore spot.”

Ray was shocked.

The backup vocalist continued, “I heard he didn’t even take the art entrance exam, just got into a regular university. He’s not going to play music anymore.”

Ray asked, “Why?”

“No money.” The backup vocalist took a sip of his drink. “His mom’s sick, and the treatment is expensive. He even sold his instruments-drum set, piano, all of it. I saw the boss help him find buyers.”

Ray looked at Ning Qiuyan’s busy figure and listened to the backup vocalist sigh beside him, saying how tough it was for someone so young.

But Ning Qiuyan didn’t feel it was that tough.

Because of that gift, he was in a good mood all night, working while thinking about what kind of return gift to give Guan Heng.

He couldn’t afford anything expensive, and for Guan Heng, no matter how pricey, it probably wouldn’t mean much-plus, Du Island lacked for nothing.

Something too cheap wouldn’t do either; it would seem insincere, and choosing something was a problem too. He didn’t know Guan Heng well enough-what he liked to eat, what he used, or any hobbies besides puzzles.

What if he asked Lu Qianque?

Ning Qiuyan quickly dismissed the idea. The hug pillow Lu Qianque had given him was half a joke, teasing him for being single and lonely, but he still owed Lu Qianque a gift in return.

What about the others on Du Island?

Uncle Kang, Granny Bai in the kitchen whom he’d never met, even Uncle Ping-they’d all looked after him in their own way. The reward he got for donating blood far exceeded what he’d given.

Ning Qiuyan found himself falling into a pit he’d dug for himself, which only got deeper as he started thinking about New Year’s gifts for everyone.

*

By the early hours, there were fewer people in the bar.

A guest accidentally spilled a drink on Ning Qiuyan, so he had to go to the changing room to put on his own clothes. He took off his shirt, turned his back to the door, and pulled on his sweater.

The cold air made goosebumps rise on his young skin.

He dressed quickly, and as he closed his locker, he heard a strange noise.

The music outside was muffled. One of the fluorescent lights in the changing room was broken, and since it was in the basement, no streetlight shone in from outside, making it hard to see clearly.

Employees’ coats, boots, and even folding bikes and personal items were piled everywhere.

A sound like O O @ @ came from the corner of the changing room.

Worried that a drunk customer had wandered in by mistake, Ning Qiuyan decided to check it out. For safety, he grabbed a baseball bat that had been leaning in the corner for ages.

Step by step, he approached. Ning Qiuyan could vaguely make out someone sitting in the corner, leaning against the lockers. After a few seconds, as his eyes adjusted, he saw it was Ray, the band’s lead singer.

The corner was well hidden-if not for the noise, Ning Qiuyan would never have noticed anyone was there.

What was Ray doing here?

“Hiss…”

Ray tilted his head back with his eyes closed, making a strange sound in his throat, his raised arm still in the air.

In his raised hand was something like a dropper; in the other, a small bottle about ten milliliters in size, containing a bit of clear liquid.

Without the dazzling lights from outside, Ray looked terrible-dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in ages, like the seriously ill patients Ning Qiuyan had seen in the hospital.

But Ray’s face showed an expression of ecstasy, as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

He slowly lowered his arm, expertly putting the dropper back into the small bottle and screwing it shut.
During this time, he kept his head tilted back, mouth open, his tongue lightly trembling with excitement.

“What are you doing?” Ning Qiuyan suddenly asked.

Ray was startled, flinching as he opened his eyes and saw who it was; his expression changed instantly.

Clearly, he hadn’t expected anyone to come to the changing room at this moment.

Ning Qiuyan gripped the baseball bat, furious.

He could easily tell what Ray was doing.

In Ning Qiuyan’s mind, N° Bar was much purer than other bars; it wasn’t filled with chaos and vice. N° was well-known for its atmosphere and music, not for skirting the law or dabbling in gray industries.

He had once really liked Ray’s band. Tonight, because of Ray’s invitation, he’d even been tempted, and had felt sorry for Ray’s physical condition.

But the truth was, Ray was completely self-indulgent and brought this upon himself.

“Xiao Ning?” Ray stood up nervously and sniffed. “Why did you come in? My throat’s not feeling well, so I’m taking some medicine here.”

Ning Qiuyan asked, “What medicine?”

Ray replied, “Cough syrup.”

Disbelief filled Ning Qiuyan’s sharp, clear eyes.

Ray tried to bluff his way out.

After a few seconds of stalemate, Ning Qiuyan said, “If you’re not feeling well, I’ll go get the manager.”

A single person could ruin a thriving bar.

Ray knew very well that what he was doing had crossed a line, which was why he was sneaking around, afraid of being discovered.

No matter what Ray was up to, Ning Qiuyan felt he had a duty to inform the manager.

Seeing Ning Qiuyan turn to leave, Ray quickly stepped forward to block him, his demeanor a bit steadier now. “Don’t, listen to me. There’s no need for this. I swear I’m not taking drugs; I would never do anything illegal.”

Ning Qiuyan was still skeptical. “You’re not?”

Ray coughed. “This stuff is called Huanle. It just makes people feel better and numbs your perception of your surroundings a bit, kind of like LSD…”

“If that’s not a drug, what is?” Ning Qiuyan felt like Ray was treating him like a fool, his heart aching. “Have you ever considered your band?”

Ray froze, then hurriedly said, “It’s really not what you think. Even if you sent it for testing, they wouldn’t find any trace of anything. Please, trust me.”

Ning Qiuyan pressed his lips together, unsure whether to believe Ray.

If it really was harmless, why was Ray so afraid of being found out?

Perhaps guessing what Ning Qiuyan was thinking, Ray paced anxiously for a couple of steps, then said, “I just don’t want to be investigated by the police. The person who sold this died a few days ago, and now being questioned is a hassle.”

“Died?” Ning Qiuyan asked.

Ray nodded. “Don’t you remember? A while back, there were always a bunch of thugs hanging out on the square outside every night?”

Ning Qiuyan was startled, almost guessing what Ray was about to say.

“They’re the ones who sold me this stuff,” Ray said. “I saw the news-that guy’s already dead. This matter is a bit more complicated than it seems.”

That was the little thug.

He had once tried to sell something to Ning Qiuyan too, claiming it would make him happy.

It must have been this bottle of clear liquid.

Seeing Ning Qiuyan stunned, Ray thought he didn’t believe him, so he pulled out his phone and said, “Let me show you a video. After you watch it, you’ll understand why I said it’s complicated.”

Ray opened his album, found a video, pressed play, and handed it to Ning Qiuyan.

In the dim corner of the changing room, the phone screen made Ning Qiuyan squint a little, then his clear eyes slowly widened.

The video showed a corner of a dark room, where something black was chained with iron links. It was impossible to tell what kind of animal it was.

The person filming whistled, and the thing lunged forward like an arrow, emitting frenzied hisses, but couldn’t get any closer because of the chains.

It was a human being.

Or perhaps, calling it human wasn’t quite right.

Because it opened its mouth wide, revealing a pair of hideous, terrifying fangs to the camera.