Wet dream

A few rooster crows outside the window woke Chen Yuan from his sleep.

He stretched, then suddenly felt something uncomfortable.

The sheet felt sticky.

Chen Yuan's eyes flew wide open.

"Fuck!"

He shot upright and felt a wet patch on his underwear!

Chen Yuan froze for two seconds as a jumble of images flashed through his mind.

He closed his eyes and swore again. "Fuck!"

Chen Yuan stripped off his underwear, balled it up, and threw it on the floor.

Then he went to the wardrobe, rummaged out a clean pair, and put it on. Only then did he let out a long breath and calm down a little.

Dawn was approaching, and the window was turning pale. Outside, the rooster kept crowing, again and again.

Chen Yuan sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the balled-up underwear on the floor, his face burning a little.

Eighteen.

Grandpa said it was normal.

But of all the people he could have dreamed about, why her?

He rubbed his face, stood up, and pushed open his bedroom door.

His grandfather, Chen Dehou, had gotten up early and was already in the courtyard.

The old man wore a faded undershirt, loose-legged trousers, and black cloth shoes.

He was practicing his forms in the courtyard, every move slow and unhurried, no different from the old men in the park.

But Chen Yuan could tell.

Every move his grandfather made carried power!

His feet planted firmly enough to press the bricks beneath them into the ground. His arms swept in full circles, whipping through the air with a whoosh.

With each contraction and extension, his joints cracked like firecrackers.

Chen Dehou finished a compact set of forms, settled into his closing stance, and stood there catching his breath.

He turned and saw his grandson standing nearby.

Chen Yuan had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was a tangled bird's nest.

"Didn't sleep well?"

Chen Yuan grunted in agreement and went to the well to draw water and wash his face.

The hand pump took a few strokes before water came out. He filled a dipper, lifted it, and splashed the water onto his face.

Chen Dehou walked over and stood behind his grandson.

"Had a wet dream?"

Chen Yuan's hand jerked, and he nearly dropped the dipper.

"A... a what dream?"

Chen Dehou smiled and patted his shoulder.

"You're eighteen. It's normal!"

Chen Yuan lowered his head and buried his face in the washbasin without a word.

Chen Dehou stayed beside him.

"Who'd you dream about?"

Chen Yuan nearly choked.

He lifted his head, water dripping from his face, his ears as red as cherries.

"Grandpa!"

Chen Dehou grinned so broadly that all the wrinkles on his face bunched together.

"All right, all right. I won't ask." He waved a hand. "Hurry up and wash, then come eat."

Chen Yuan buried his face in the basin again.

The water was cold, but his face still burned.

Chen Dehou went back inside. A little later, he came out again, holding a small cloth bundle.

It was blue, washed almost white, with frayed corners.

"Take this."

Chen Yuan took it and opened it.

A stack of money.

The notes were crumpled: hundreds, fifties, even tens and fives. They had been neatly stacked and bound with a rubber band.

"Grandpa..."

"Three thousand two hundred yuan," Chen Dehou said. "I've been saving for a few years. Was going to put it toward getting you a wife. Take it for now. You'll need it in Deep City."

Chen Yuan clutched the stack of money, his fingers trembling.

The money carried his grandfather's scent. Sweat, tobacco, and that particular smell old men had.

"Grandpa, I have money..."

"How much could you possibly have?" Chen Dehou interrupted. "This is from your grandpa. Take it."

Chen Yuan lifted his head and looked at his grandfather.

The old man stood there with his hands behind his back. He was over seventy, but his back was still straight.

Yet the wrinkles on his face had grown deeper.

"Grandpa..." Chen Yuan's voice caught.

Chen Dehou waved his hand.

"Don't start that! Once you get to Deep City, work hard! Don't cause trouble, but don't be scared of it either! Got that?"

Chen Yuan nodded.

"Got it."

He held the stack of money tightly in his hand.

Zhang Xiu'e's singing drifted over from the courtyard next door.

She was humming a tune Chen Yuan had never heard. It was light and cheerful, floating on the breeze, over the courtyard wall, and into his ears.

Chen Yuan glanced that way.

Zhang Xiu'e was hanging laundry in her courtyard. She wore a short-sleeved top and a pair of lounge shorts, leaving her pale legs bare.

Her hair was tied into a careless little bun, with a few loose strands hanging by her ears.

She was draping a shirt over the clothesline.

It was the white T-shirt she had worn yesterday.

It swayed on the line in the wind, dazzlingly white in the sunlight.

Chen Yuan took one look and quickly turned his eyes away.

Chen Dehou glanced at his grandson and laughed.

"You little rascal! Hurry up and wash your face, then go help Xiu'e get things sorted out. You're leaving tomorrow. Help while you can."

Chen Yuan murmured his agreement.

After washing his face, he hung the towel on the line and headed next door.

At the courtyard gate, he looked back.

Chen Dehou was still standing in the courtyard, hands behind his back, watching him.

"Grandpa," Chen Yuan called.

"Hmm?"

"That money... I'll pay you back once I start earning."

Chen Dehou laughed.

"Pay me back, my ass! It'll all be yours when I'm dead anyway."

He waved a hand. "Go on."

Chen Yuan pushed open the courtyard gate and headed next door.

Zhang Xiu'e's gate was ajar. He pushed it open and saw her still hanging laundry.

Seven or eight things already hung on the line: skirts, trousers, that white T-shirt, and two smaller pieces.

Chen Yuan glanced at those two smaller pieces, then quickly looked away.

They were underwear.

Black, with lace.

They swayed on the line whenever the wind blew.

Zhang Xiu'e heard him and turned around.

Seeing Chen Yuan, she smiled and asked,

"Yuan? What brings you over so early?"

Chen Yuan stood in the doorway, unsure where to look.

"Grandpa told me to come... come help you."

Smiling, Zhang Xiu'e draped the garment in her hands over the line.

"Sure. There's a chest I can't move, actually. Give me a hand."

With that, she went inside.

Chen Yuan followed her.

Inside, Zhang Xiu'e pointed to a large wooden chest in the corner.

"This one. Help me carry it into the courtyard. The weather's nice today. I'll let it air out in the sun."

Chen Yuan walked over, bent down, and tried lifting it.

It was pretty heavy.

"What's in it?"

"Clothes, shoes, and some odds and ends. Let's carry it together. It's a little heavy."

Chen Yuan shook his head. "No need. I can do it."

He bent down, gripped the edges of the chest with both hands, and heaved.

The chest rose off the ground.

Zhang Xiu'e looked startled. "Look at you, Yuan. You're pretty strong."

Without a word, Chen Yuan carried the chest into the courtyard and set it down.

Zhang Xiu'e followed him out and looked at him.

"From practicing martial arts?"

Chen Yuan nodded.

Zhang Xiu'e smiled, came over, and reached out to squeeze his arm.

"Oh, that's firm!"

She gave his arm another couple of squeezes.

Chen Yuan stood perfectly still.

But the places she had squeezed felt warm and tingly.

Zhang Xiu'e withdrew her hand and looked at him.

"Yuan, why are you blushing?"

Chen Yuan touched his face. "It's hot."

Zhang Xiu'e doubled over laughing.

Her chest bounced, making the neckline of her top shift wildly.

"Hot?" Zhang Xiu'e said through her laughter. "It's first thing in the morning. What's so hot?"

Chen Yuan said nothing.

Zhang Xiu'e stopped laughing and looked at him.

After a moment, she suddenly asked, "Yuan, did you sleep well last night?"

Chen Yuan's heart skipped a beat.

"P... pretty well."

"Pretty well?" Zhang Xiu'e tilted her head as she studied him. "Then why've you got dark circles?"

Chen Yuan opened his mouth, not knowing what to say.

Zhang Xiu'e smiled, came closer, and brushed her hand over his cheek.

"All right, I'll stop teasing. Come sit inside. I'll get you some water."

She turned and went inside.

Chen Yuan followed, watching Sister Ezi's back and the long legs beneath her shorts, so pale they were almost dazzling.

He took a deep breath and managed, with some difficulty, to look away.