A Lucky Coin

Yan Hang lowered his head and looked at it.

In his palm was a tiny, sparkling, hexagonal black rock alongside a thin red cord.

And with it the mild sensation of Chu Yi pressing it carefully into his hand.

“Done so fast?” Yan Hang picked up the little rock. Even a hole for the string had been drilled through the middle.

“N-not that fast.” Chu Yi looked at him nervously. “Like it?”

“Yeah.” Yan Hang nodded. He passed the red cord through the little hole.

As he tied it to his ankle, Chu Yi explained quietly, “The hole was t-too small, so leather and b-braided r-rope wouldn’t fit.”

“This one’s fine,” said Yan Hang.

“M-more impor-tantly, I can’t b-braid,” said Chu Yi.

Yan Hang laughed. “Okay.”

This little rock was quite cool, its design simple and tasteful, the colour clean and crisp. Tied to his ankle, it looked quite stylish.

“Your taste is actually better than you usually make it seem.” Yan Hang raised his leg and showed him his ankle.

“A r-rube dog’s taste,” Chu Yi laughed. He reached out and held his ankle briefly. “Looks nice.”

“Is there one for me?” Dad listened to them from the front and now turned back to ask. “Little rube dog.”

“I have, a lot.” Chu Yi scratched his head, somewhat embarrassed. “I’ll s-show you a pic, you ch-choose.”

“Okay.” Dad nodded.

Chu Yi pulled out his phone and tapped, then the three of them stared at the black screen together.

Yan Hang sensed that this phone was on its last legs after Liang Bing’s smash earlier. It was taking much longer than usual for the screen to turn on.

While waiting, Chu Yi even had time to wipe the dust off the screen.

“What are we doing?” Dad asked.

“Waiting to see the photo,” said Yan Hang.

“Oh.” Dad nodded.

The screen finally lit up. Chu Yi prodded at the photo album; this opened much quicker, as did the folder named “Little Rocks” inside it, but after he opened it, rows of black squares appeared and didn’t change for a very long time.

“One’s a g-group pic.” Chu Yi rubbed his nose and tapped one of the squares, then held the phone with one hand while resting his chin on the other. “T-time s-slips away.”

“It does.” Dad felt his chin. “I think my beard’s growing out.”

The photo finally opened. Chu Yi zoomed in. “T-these are the ones. They d-don’t look that good.”

“They look quite good.” Dad took the phone. “I’ll have a closer look and choose one, then you can drill a hole in it for me too, okay?”

“Mhm!” Chu Yi nodded at once.

Yan Hang glanced at him. Dad wasn’t wrong to call him a “poor little kid”. He’d probably never shown anyone these rocks before, and nobody would tell him they looked nice, let alone pick one and ask him to bore a hole in it.

Chu Yi’s little rocks were all very small, probably because smaller rocks didn’t need to be polished for too long, and were also easy to hide.

But they had a wide variety of colours and shapes. The more complex ones were petal-shaped. They weren’t exactly intricate, but they were all very cute.

“Is this red one painted?” Dad pointed at a little round rock, red with a tinge of orange, as he asked.

“That’s the or-riginal colour,” said Chu Yi. “Found it at the r-river.”

“I’ll pick this one then. I can wear it on my hand,” Dad said.

“I’ll bring it t-to you to-morrow,” Chu Yi said with a smile.

“Thanks,” said Dad.

“No, problem.” Chu Yi waved a hand.

The little black rock was icy cold; Yan Hang felt it the whole time, an icy little dot. He didn’t know if this was an illusion or a real sensation.

Before they got down, he couldn’t stop himself from undoing the slipknot and turning it into a tight jamming knot [1].

[1] This comes off more poetically in Chinese — a slipknot is called a “live knot” in Chinese, while Yan Hang turned it into a “dead knot”, aka a knot that can’t be undone.

It carried Chu Yi’s sincerity. Accidentally losing it would be terrible.

Today was the first day of the music fest, as well as a Friday; the plaza was full of people. The moment they got out of the car, it was as if they’d been thrown into a mega-sized speaker box.

There was music, laughter, shouting.

Yan Hang stood at the public square, on the pedestrian footpath by the road. He was slightly stunned.

He didn’t like noise very much, preferring to daydream by himself most of the time. Dad understood his habits, so he never brought him to these sorts of places to join in the fun, either.

The scene today was probably the rowdiest he’d ever seen, besides Chinese New Year firework shows.

“Shall we go to the front?” asked Dad.

Yan Hang didn’t speak. He hesitated slightly, then looked at Chu Yi.

Chu Yi seemed quite excited, constantly turning to look all around him, his eyes shining.

“Let’s go near that tree. If we get too close, we’ll just be staring at heads, and the sound won’t be right either.” Yan Hang pointed to a tree up ahead.

There were quite a few people under the tree too, even people standing on the stone bench.

When they went over, one of these people had just gotten down. Yan Hang spotted this and quickly pulled Chu Yi over, pushing him up the bench: “Up up up…”

“Ah.” Chu Yi hastily stepped onto the bench.

But there were a number of people on the bench; after getting up, he lost his balance.

“Brace against me,” said Yan Hang.

Chu Yi put his arm on Yan Hang’s shoulder. He thought for a moment, then laughed. “S-Shortie.”

“Get the fuck down.” Yan Hang looked at him.

“No.” Chu Yi laughed and shook his head.

The sound of drums came from the stage. All around them, people began to shout; Chu Yi quickly turned and stared in that direction.

Yan Hang found Chu Yi to be an extraordinary person.

Just one hour ago, he’d been beaten by the river, his phone thrown to the ground, his trousers nearly pulled off; now he seemed perfectly fine.

Or rather, after they left the river and went to his house, Chu Yi had already returned to his usual self.

Yan Hang was rather in awe of such shocking resilience.

Chu Yi didn’t talk about the incident and how it happened and what would become of it, nor did he ask how Yan Hang and Dad found him. He didn’t discuss the matter for even a second.

Simply and promptly, he cast it aside.

Whether Chu Yi acquired this ability actively or passively, it made Yan Hang feel that this child had one hell of a knack for adapting.

God knows where Dad went; when he came back, he held three little binoculars.

“Use these.” He handed them to Yan Hang and Chu Yi. “You’ll see more clearly.”

“T-thanks, Uncle Y-Yan.” Chu Yi took the binoculars.

“You don’t have to say the whole thing,” said Dad. “It’s too tiring.”

“Thanks, Uncle,” said Chu Yi.

“Good, that’s much better.” Dad nodded.

Chu Yi bowed his head and studied the binoculars. “I haven’t u-used these b-before.”

“Use them now, then,” laughed Yan Hang. He looked at the stage through the binoculars, seeing a few bald youths at the fore. “Pretty clear.”

“Oh.” Chu Yi put the binoculars to his eyes too. After a moment, he said only, “How f-far.”

Yan Hang looked at him.

He looked back at Yan Hang. After a pause, he calmly turned the binoculars around. “I get it.”

Yan Hang couldn’t help but laugh. “Rube.”

“Posh.” Chu Yi held the binoculars and continued to look. “Focus.”

By the time they arrived, the music fest had been going on for some time, so the atmosphere in the public square was already hyped; with every little thing on stage, the people below it would raise their hands and wave.

When this band of head-shaven youths began their performance, the screams below the stage almost buried the sound of the music.

The intro was very familiar. Yan Hang glanced at Dad.

This was a song that Dad liked a lot.

Dad’s command of English was limited to “hello”, “hi”, and “bye”, but he stubbornly managed to sing this song.

“One day, I won’t be insane…” Dad really did start singing along [2].

[2] Look How Far We’ve Come by Dylan Leblanc

Yan Hang grinned and sang with him: “Won’t play, all their foolish games, we all need to play…”

Chu Yi didn’t look at the stage anymore. He turned to look at the two of them.

“What?” asked Yan Hang.

“No, nothing,” said Chu Yi. “Just b-being surprised.”

After this song was done, the band sang another original song. It was quite popular; everyone’s hands were in the air, looking like a little forest.

Yan Hang looked at the waving arms before him, somewhat dazed.

The noises in his ears slowly faded away. All that remained were the flickering shadows under the garish light.

Looking as if they were cheering.

Or as if they were struggling.

Black and white soundlessness forming chaos.

Someone flicked his face lightly. Yan Hang returned to his senses; the music and shouting surged back into his ears in an instant. He couldn’t quite catch his breath.

“Chu Yi,” Dad called out, “shall we move somewhere else?”

“Sure,” Chu Yi agreed without even thinking.

“Over there, further away.” Dad pointed to a department store across the road from the square. “They have an open-air tearoom on the first floor, I think?”

Chu Yi took out his binoculars and looked. “Yup. I-I’ll treat you to t-tea.”

“You get fifty bucks a month, it’s not even enough for people to steal from,” said Yan Hang. “And you still want to pay all the time.”

“It’s n-not always s-stolen.” Chu Yi leapt down from the stone bench.

“I’m here, so it won’t be your treat,” Dad laughed. “Come on, let’s go there and have a sit.”

Yan Hang turned and followed Dad.

Two steps later, someone grabbed his hand. He turned. It was Chu Yi.

Chu Yi smiled at him. “Your hand, is a b-bit cold.”

“Yeah,” Yan Hang responded. “Strong winds.”

He took a few steps forward, but Chu Yi didn’t seem to want to let go of his hand. He looked at Chu Yi. “Why don’t you call me ge, and I’ll hold your hand as we cross the road?”

“Are y-you, afraid?” asked Chu Yi.

Yan Hang paused. He didn’t speak.

Chu Yi kept holding on. Like two fools, they held hands as they crossed the road behind Dad.

The first floor balcony tearoom didn’t want for customers. Everyone had come to see the music festival. If they weren’t crazy fanatics, they could sit here and hear the music as well as see the stage while drinking tea; it was quite comfortable.

They found an empty table and sat. Dad ordered a fruit and floral infusion for the two of them and a pot of green tea for himself.

The moment the tea arrived, Chu Yi stood and poured it into the three cups. The server who had meant to pour it for them stood aside, not interrupting him; after a while, the server could do nothing but leave.

“Chu Yi,” Dad said as he drank his tea, “have you never been out like this before?”

“I’m a-lways at h-home at night.” Chu Yi sat. “Spacing out.”

“Isn’t that boring?” Dad sighed.

“It’s n-nice at Grandpa’s,” Chu Yi turned his cup. “I g-get to go during breaks. [3]”

[3] Father’s father.

“Is your grandpa’s place far away?” Dad asked.

“Mhm.” Chu Yi nodded.

As Yan Hang listened to their idle chitchat, he took his phone out and snapped a few photos of the stage.

This so-called Leica camera phone was pretty good. The photos had an air to them.

The lights of the stage were glaringly bright. Aside from the colourful spots the light shone on, everything else was a heavy black, very lonely.

“Your stutter.” Dad looked at Chu Yi. “When did it start?”

“B-before I could remember.” Chu Yi thought for a while. “My dad says I s-started speaking late, and I c-couldn’t speak s-smoothly. Nana k-kept scolding me, and it got w-worse.”

“So you were frightened into it,” Dad said.

“Mhm.” Chu Yi laughed. “Not because I’m s-stupid.”

“That much is obvious,” Dad said. “Try speaking a little slower, a syllable at a time. Maybe then you won’t stutter.”

“Re…al…ly…” said Chu Yi.

Yan Hang opened his video app and pointed his phone at Chu Yi.

“See? You stopped stuttering.” Dad applauded.

“He usually doesn’t, under three syllables,” said Yan Hang.

Dad laughed. “Try longer sentences then. Chu Yi, how old are you?”

“Fourteen, what, a q-question.” Chu Yi sighed. “This is a l-longer one, huh?”

Yan Hang laughed till he almost lost his grip on his phone. “The second sentence was long.”

“Okay.” Chu Yi turned and saw the phone facing him. “Live…stream…ing?”

“No, video recording,” said Yan Hang.

“Why… a…a…are… you…” Chu Yi dragged his vowels and amused himself into laughter. “Ah!”

“Take it slow,” Yan Hang said as he laughed. “If it were so easy to change, nobody would stutter.”

“Yeah.” Chu Yi held the cup and laughed as he drank the tea. “This… tea… is… r-really nice.”

Neither Yan Hang nor Dad paid much attention to the time. In his case, it was because of the insomnia; to him, many nights were simply a period of time opposite to day. On the other hand, Dad didn’t care about anything; anything went.

Only when Chu Yi hesitantly said that he had to go did the two of them realise it was almost eleven.

“Whoa.” Dad stood. “Quick, hail a taxi.”

“I don’t think we’ll get one at this time.” Yan Hang looked at the square; it was still thronging with people. “Not with this many people.”

“The b-bus,” said Chu Yi.

Yan Hang didn’t like the bus. He could run for two hours, but he refused to stand, or even sit, in a bus for ten minutes.

But under these circumstances tonight, he had no choice. They wouldn’t be able to hail a ride, and walking would take too long. They had to squeeze onto a bus.

And it really was a squeeze.

It wasn’t just the three of them who couldn’t get a ride. There was only one bus route running at this hour, and though they were at the very front of the queue, when they boarded, Yan Hang found the passengers numerous; even if they boarded first, it was no different from boarding last, the way everyone stuck together.

“Keep s-steady, chest out!” Chu Yi was stuck against him, face to face, even giving him words of encouragement.

Yan Hang sighed and laughed. “Shut it.”

At the next stop, nobody got off. More people got on.

Chu Yi sighed too, edging to the side as much as he could, probably trying to distance himself a little from the lady leaning against his back.

He had only just moved a little when he suddenly stopped and snapped his head up to look at Yan Hang, crying out softly, “Ah!”

“What?” Yan Hang was startled by him. He lowered his voice. “Did you get hard?”

“…No, not that.” Chu Yi lowered his head, then lifted it again. “I’m s-still underage, that’s in-ap-propriate.”

“Then why were you all alarmed?” asked Yan Hang.

“The rock,” said Chu Yi. “D-d-did it f-fall off?”

“No.” With great difficulty, Yan Hang rubbed the rock tied onto his left ankle against his right calf, feeling it. “It’s here, I can feel it. I tied it with a jamming knot, it won’t fall off so easily.”

“Oh.” Chu Yi sighed in relief. “I s-stepped on something h-hard. Though it w-was the rock.”

“Relax.” Yan Hang laughed. “I’ve never actually been given presents. I wouldn’t lose one so easily.”

When they got down from the bus, Chu Yi twisted as he squeezed his way out, as if some obsessive tendency was acting up; he just had to see what in the world he was stepping on.

“Did you see it?” asked Yan Hang.

“A bo-bottle cap.” Chu Yi straightened his clothes; they were messed up from the crowd.

“A bobottle cap, huh,” said Yan Hang.

Chu Yi laughed. “And you say I-I’m the smart mouth.”

“Let’s go, quick. Don’t want your Nana scolding you again for being late,” said Yan Hang.

“Nobody m-minds me at n-night.” After speaking, Chu Yi seemed to remember to slow down, so he repeated, “No…bo…dy… minds… me… at n-n-night.”

Just as Yan Hang was laughing, a car drove over from behind them and honked.

“Chu Yi!” Someone shouted.

Yan Hang turned. A small white car drove over and stopped next to them.

The front passenger window was down. Yan Hang looked in; a middle-aged man was looking out, too.

“My dad.” Chu Yi walked over. “You’re b-back?”

“Where’d you go?” Chu Yi’s dad opened the door and got down. “Get in, I’ll drive you.”

After speaking, Chu Yi’s dad looked towards them; after his gaze passed over Yan Hang’s face, he suddenly froze.

Yan Hang quickly looked at Dad, but Dad’s expression was normal, even smiling. “Chu Yi, go home with your dad. We live up ahead, very close by, just two steps away.”

“I…” Chu Yi seemed to hesitate.

“Get in.” Yan Hang patted his back. “You’re still thinking of going home alone?”

“Okay.” Chu Yi smiled. He opened the door and got in, then leaned out the window. “I had a g-great time today. Good night.”

“Good night,” said Yan Hang.

“Good night, Uncle.” Chu Yi smiled at Dad.

“Good night.” Dad waved.

After the car drove off, Dad and Yan Hang both stood by the road, neither moving.

A moment of silence passed before Yan Hang looked at Dad. “Chu Yi’s dad. It wasn’t his first time seeing you, was it?”

“Not sure.” Dad lit a cigarette and continued to walk. “But it’s my first time seeing him.”

Yan Hang stayed silent for a moment, then followed.

In the past, he would never have asked such a question, but now he felt himself to be a walking book of one hundred thousand whys [4].