Restricted Area

Jiang Chijing was slightly unused to not seeing that familiar figure in the library.

Inmates often came in and out of prison. Today someone would be released from prison, tomorrow someone else would be transferred to another prison. Nobody would find having less any weird.

Or, maybe, Zheng Mingyi was just a little bit special. After all, they were just a few pages away from completing Strawberry Planting Techniques, and Jiang Chijing kept feeling like he had left something unfinished.

In the past few days, Yu Guang kept finding excuses to run over to the infirmary. Jiang Chijing didn’t know how many times it was that he told Luo Hai not to indulge this kid so much, but the moment that Yu Guang eagerly called “Dr. Luo”, Luo Hai would, against every rule, allow Yu Guang to use the computer.

“You’re really going to spoil him,” Jiang Chijing said. “Since when was there an inmate with as much freedom as he does?”

“You know him. He’s just a silly kid, he doesn’t have a bad heart.” This was Luo Hai’s excuse every time.

Jiang Chijing sighed, not knowing what to say.

Luo Hai’s type was exactly the younger brother sort, especially those that needed him to look after them. A person’s preferences were like genes that were engraved in their bones; they weren’t that easy to change. Jiang Chijing also had his own preferences, so he knew that he was in no position to tell Luo Hai what to do.

“Man.” Behind the computer, Yu Guang slumped in the office chair, crestfallen, staring vacantly at the ceiling as he said, “The God of Go has disappeared again.”

“It’s only been a few days, do you miss him that much?” Luo Hai asked.

“He hasn’t replied to any of my messages,” Yu Guang said despondently. “He used to always reply to me, I don’t know what’s going on this time.”

“Maybe your idol can’t be bothered to deal with you.” Jiang Chijing knew what was on Luo Hai’s mind; seeing Yu Guang so fixated on someone else, he couldn’t resist but jibe at this ungrateful brat.

“He’s actually lazy to deal with others. But I’m an old fan of his, he treats me differently.”

Well then. The idol filter this kid had was too thick. Jiang Chijing patted Luo Hai’s shoulder in consolation.

“It’s highly probable that capitalists have set their eyes on him.” Yu Guang sat upright, his expression grim as he analysed. “Someone who divulges the will of the heaven like him must be a thorn in the capitalists’ side. Maybe he’s even been locked up already.”

Yu Guang, this kid, had always liked conspiracy theories. But at the mention of incarceration, bafflingly, Zheng Mingyi came to mind.

There were so many great gods at stir-frying stocks; it couldn’t be so coincidental, right?

But the timing did seem to match…

“You actually believe his nonsense?” Luo Hai elbowed Jiang Chijing, disrupting his thoughts. “That idol of his probably just doesn’t want to be on the forum anymore.”

There were all sorts of online interest groups to cater to everyone’s passions. However, it was possible that real life got in the way, changing someone’s interest level.

Come to think of it, Jiang Chijing had once had online friends too, but pretty much lost contact with all of them by now.

“Something must have happened to my idol.” Yu Guang obviously disagreed with what Luo Hai said. “I must help him.”

“Are you sure?” Jiang Chijing picked up the conversation. “Did you forget the mission that you came into prison for?”

“What mission?” Luo Hai asked.

While Jiang Chijing had said that he would tattle to Luo Hai, he hadn’t taken it to heart and gradually ended up forgetting about this offhand trifle.

Ignoring Yu Guang’s burning gaze, he told Luo Hai about the kid’s plan to mess with Zheng Mingyi. At this, anyone could see that Luo Hai was genuinely angry.

“You know how dangerous he is, right? And you still want to look for trouble?” Luo Hai flared up, scolding Yu Guang straight to the face. “Look at Old Nine, look at Chen Er. You only hurt your ankle that time, but if you keep going on, he might beat you up so badly that you’d be incapacitated for life.”

“If I become incapacitated,” Yu Guang mumbled softly, “you’ll take care of me, won’t you, Dr. Luo?”

“Are you listening to me at all?”

“Hehe, Dr. Luo is the best,” Yu Guang cajoled, cackling.

“Get out.” Luo Hai pointed at the door. “Don’t keep running over to me when you’ve nothing better to do.”

“C’mon, relax, Dr. Luo.” Yu Guang nestled in the chair, refusing to move. “That evil guy is still locked up in confinement, how can I provoke him?”

Jiang Chijing looked at those two banter back and forth, suddenly feeling a little extra.

Gauging the time, Zheng Mingyi should be let out of confinement tomorrow morning.

Previously, Jiang Chijing told him that he would chat with him if the mood struck him. In actuality, he hadn’t been there once until now, not because he wasn’t in the mood, but purely because he was too lazy to.

However, it really was a bit boring today. Jiang Chijing considered it. He bid Luo Hai goodbye, then left for the library to take the Strawberry Planting Techniques that he hadn’t finished reading.

Translated on ninetysevenkoi.wordpress

Block A was the furthest block from the admin block. Jiang Chijing walked over from the connecting corridor on the second floor, along the way running into many colleagues curious why he was appearing at the cell blocks.

Jiang Chijing merely said that he had something to do, bearing the weight of his colleagues’ curious eyes as he arrived at the confinement cells.

This was also a reason why Jiang Chijing was lazy to look for Zheng Mingyi. Block A was too far away, on this walk over from the library, he had to greet god knows how many of his colleagues.

It wasn’t as if chatting with Zheng Mingyi was some confidential secret. He had the book clamped under his arm. If anyone really persisted with their questions, he would brush them off saying that he was getting Zheng Mingyi to study.

Zheng Mingyi’s mood was visibly worse than two days ago. When Jiang Chijing slid the window open, he languidly leaned over, greeting Jiang Chijing. “You’re here, Officer Jiang.”

He could hear a trace of complaint in his voice, as if asking him why had he only come now.

Just like last time, Jiang Chijing’s back leaned against the door. As he flipped the book in his hands, he casually asked, “Does it feel good being in confinement?”

“Not really,” Zheng Mingyi said.

Jiang Chijing had seen inmates have mental breakdowns in confinement cells and knew that this wasn’t a place for people to stay in. It really spoke lengths of how harsh Zheng Mingyi was being on himself to exchange 72 hours in confinement for a single cell.

“If it doesn’t feel good then stop making trouble,” Jiang Chijing said.

“Mm-hmm.”

Jiang Chijing flipped to where he had last stopped, cleared his throat, and began to read, “Strawberry jam recipes…”

“Officer Jiang,” Zheng Mingyi interrupted Jiang Chijing, “on the rare occasion that you’ve made a trip down, you decide to read to me?”

“Otherwise?”

It wasn’t as though Jiang Chijing was here to visit a neighbour. From the outset, with his status, there wasn’t any reason for him to chat with Zheng Mingyi.

Zheng Mingyi also seemed to think of this, disinterestedly replying, “Go on, then.”

Rather than calling Strawberry Planting Techniques a book, it was better called a booklet. Without any inflection, Jiang Chijing tonelessly read every word on the paper, occasionally getting distracted by the slight rustling from behind the iron door.

Zheng Mingyi had likely leaned his head against the iron door, and with every action he made, his clothes and hair would rub against the door, sending faint vibrations through the iron door to Jiang Chijing’s side, causing his back to tingle.

After a good while, Jiang Chijing finally finished reading to the last word of the book. He closed the book, looked at the time, then spoke in the direction of the small window. “Finished it.”

“It’s done?” Zheng Mingyi’s voice carried over from behind the door. “Then read it to me from the top again.”

Jiang Chijing’s lips twitched. “Do I seem that bored?”

Zheng Mingyi said, “I am bored.”

And he even proclaimed this reason with righteous conviction in his tone.

Jiang Chijing sat there without moving, but he didn’t speak either. Anyway, getting him to read it once more was absolutely impossible.

Zheng Mingyi probably also knew that Jiang Chijing wasn’t someone with much patience, so he didn’t insist on it, changing to say instead, “Then tell me a joke, Officer Jiang.”

This request sounded a little more normal. The problem was—

“I can’t tell jokes,” said Jiang Chijing.

“No way, Officer Jiang.” Zheng Mingyi sounded astonished. “How can you not know how to tell a joke?”

The way he said it was just as if Jiang Chijing wasn’t normal. He even doubted himself, wondering for a split second, could it be that telling jokes was a basic social skill of humans?

Jiang Chijing believed himself to have passable social skills. He had a friendly working relationship with all his colleagues. Conversely, it was Zheng Mingyi who had weird-ass logic, making people drop dead of anger with just a few sentences; how could he have the gall to ridicule Jiang Chijing for not being able to tell jokes?

Recalling those few confrontations where he hadn’t performed well, an inexplicable irritation was piqued in him.

“Fine. I’ll tell you a comical (hua ji) story.” Jiang Chijing said. “Once upon a time, there was a chicken (ji). It slipped (hua) down a mountain.”

After he was done, silence held thick in the air.

Zheng Mingyi asked, uncertain, “Officer Jiang, is that all to your slippery chicken (hua ji) story?”

“Yeah,” said Jiang Chijing. “Don’t you find it funny? I think it’s hilarious.”

Despite his words, Jiang Chijing wasn’t laughing when he said this.

Silence descended again. For ages, there wasn’t a single movement behind the iron door. Jiang Chijing abruptly regretted it. People all had different tickle spots; further, Zheng Mingyi didn’t have the brain circuits of a normal person, why did he have to duke it out with him over such a thing?

However, just then, Jiang Chijing suddenly heard a light chuckle, following it came long, drawn-out laughter. Even during the half-year thereabout he spent secretly observing Zheng Mingyi, he had never seen him laugh this happily before.

“Officer Jiang.” Zheng Mingyi only contained his laughter with much difficulty. “Were you always this cute on the inside?”

Jiang Chijing’s brows furrowed. He really didn’t like Zheng Mingyi calling him cute. No matter what, he was a 1.8-metres-tall adult man; on his entire body, which spot of him was in any way cute?

It must be that the baton hadn’t greeted Zheng Mingyi’s body yet, otherwise, he would never have been able to say such a thing.

“I’m going off.” Jiang Chijing stood up, brushing off his pants, refusing to speak any further to Zheng Mingyi, who still hadn’t stopped laughing.

Translated on ninetysevenkoi.wordpress

***

Please do not repost or retranslate.

It was a new day. When Jiang Chijing was delivering mail at Block A, he coincided with Zheng Mingyi, who had just come out of the confinement cell.

He was following behind a prison guard, carrying his personal items with him. He was probably being transferred to his new cell.

Locked in Block A, Old Nine spurred the jeering. A chorus of unfriendly voices echoed through the corridors of the block, but Zheng Mingyi turned a deaf ear to it all, keeping his eyes firmly fixed ahead, his gaze only pausing for a few seconds in greeting when he saw Jiang Chijing.

The block supervisor struck the railing with a baton, and the jeering crowd quietened.

Jiang Chijing didn’t stay for long. He finished delivering the mail at his usual pace, after which returned to the admin block.

Today, Jiang Chijing was a little busier than usual. When Zheng Mingyi was done with his cell chores, he still had to spend time conducting a lesson for Zheng Mingyi.

It was a proper reformatory class this time, specially targeted towards inmates who often stirred trouble. If Zheng Mingyi continued to harbour dangerous lines of thought, then Jiang Chijing could report it to the block supervisor, extending his confinement time.

“Don’t you go speaking up for him,” Luo Hai warned Jiang Chijing.

Jiang Chijing couldn’t be bothered to give an explanation. He flippantly denied it. “I won’t.”

At this moment, Zheng Mingyi appeared at the door of the library, still with handcuffs around his wrists—it was special treatment for inmates in Block A, that they had to be handcuffed when moving between areas.

“Wait for me in the ground-floor meeting room,” Jiang Chijing said.

The prison guard in charge of escorting Zheng Mingyi made to bring him off, but Zheng Mingyi didn’t take a step. He stood still and asked Jiang Chijing, “Will Officer Jiang be telling me a joke today as well?”

Before Jiang Chijing could respond, next to him, Luo Hai looked at him like he was looking at a ghost. “Did you seriously tell a joke?!”

Jiang Chijing’s ears heated. Annoyed, he said, “I didn’t!”