Walk Into Your Good Night

01

When the family moved in opposite my place, I was smoking on the terrace.

Our neighbourhood was not the most expensive villa area in the city, but when people mentioned it, they would say, “That area is for the rich people.”

Every fifty meters, a three-storey villa was built on both sides of a not-so-wide stone path.

Usually, there was no people on these roads in the neighbourhood, because no one walked on the ground. They usually drove directly to their underground garages, and entered their houses that way.

Often, when I was smoking on the terrace, I would think about how this neighbourhood was similar to the gaming community. It seemed calm on the surface, yet many stories are buried within.

And the reason I noticed him, was that their family was obviously out of place with the rest.

Cars were forbidden inside this villa complex, but owners could have special access if they are moving, with the help of the property management.

I hadn’t seen many house owners who lived here, or perhaps I had glanced at them, but paid no close attention.

That was why when I saw them moving in a mattress, obviously worn at the edges, into a villa nearly the same size as mine, I thought they were nouveau riche.

I relished in watching them, as if watching an interesting movie.

While the property management was busy moving in, a woman, too, was busy.

The woman was average looking, but her skin was very pale. Very thin, looked less than thirty, and sickly.

We weren’t positioned far away from each other, as the road was narrow. Standing on the terrace on the third floor, I could see her clearly just by lowering my head. However, she never noticed me.

It was as if she was acting wholeheartedly on stage, never realising that she had an audience.

To be honest, those who lived here had pretty good financial condition. Otherwise, buying the whole villa and renovating it would lead to a lifetime of debt for the working class. That was assuming that you could even get a loan in the first place.

So for those moving in, they would have new furniture along with their new house. Yet this was not the case for their family.

Worn out mattresses, old-style sofas, and bulky quilts which I had only seen at my grandmother’s house when I was a child ……

I became curious; I wanted to know what kind of special specimen this family was.

I was free that day. I leaned against the balcony railing and smoked half a pack of cigarettes. Watched them move in from start to finish.

At the end, a man appeared in my view.

He was not tall, but thin, like that woman. He seemed to have experienced a lot of suffering in life, looking malnourished.

His skin was similarly pale. I started to suspect that they were siblings – older sister and younger brother.

They both had similar temperaments. Mild, like fried vegetables without salt.

When I was smoking another cigarette – which I had lost count of – the man looked up at me.

To be honest, I really regretted not remembering which cigarette it was, to from them on commemorate my love at first sight.

Later, I knew that his name was Tang Jingchuan. That woman was not his older sister, but his wife.

Tang Jingchuan, 31 years old. An ordinary employee of an ordinary private company. The reason they moved here was because the couple sold their house and had no place to live. They wanted to borrow money from their relatives, who refused. Their relatives gave them their own empty house for them to live in.

This was what I heard from Tang Jingchuan himself when I chatted with him. As for why they sold their house, it was because they had no money.

No money for his wife’s medical treatment.

As I had said long before, I was quite accurate in reading people. I thought that she looked sickly when I first looked at her. His wife seemed like she could be easily blown over by a gust of wind.

I became more practiced in reading people after my father’s death. There was no choice but to do so, in a world where everyone wants to see your missteps, who look forward to your bad luck. You could do it too.

I digress. Back to Tang Jingchuan.

I took a liking to him the day he moved in.

I’m 29 this year, working my ass off for my father’s company, which he left to me before he died.

Five years ago, I was still studying abroad, being a devil incarnate. I had said repeatedly that I wanted to pursue my own dreams, and ignore the mess at home.

Yet things were unpredictable. Life was not about our choices.

When my father passed away, he left behind a sentence. He said: “Boy, mess around, do whatever you want. This time I finally won’t be able to see it.”

He probably felt upset after saying this; at least, I felt bad after hearing his words.

Then, I worked my ass off, and now his company was finally stabilised.

Many people were interested in my father’s mess. They waited me to trip and fall. Many also sought to form connections. Those who weren’t related wanted to use marriage to build one to good effect.

They kept introducing their own daughters or nieces to me, but they didn’t know that I liked men.

I fell in love with Tang Jingchuan.