Xiao Mo left.
The door closed, and the room fell quiet for a few seconds.
Liu Xinyu came in from outside, still holding Instructions for Practical Living. He sat down in his old spot, opened the book, and continued reading.
Fan Qishan sat cross-legged with his eyes closed.
Wang Xiaoliang wrote.
Three people, three different postures, each doing his own thing.
Time slowed down in this room.
Occasionally, footsteps passed outside, then faded away.
Wang Xiaoliang's pen made a faint scratching sound against the paper. After writing for most of the day, his wrist was growing stiff. He put down the pen and flexed his fingers.
Then he sat cross-legged too.
He closed his eyes.
Liu Xinyu looked up at him, said nothing, and went on turning the pages.
After a while, Fan Qishan opened his eyes. He stayed still, sitting like that for a time, then reached over and picked up a book beside him.
Zhuangzi.
He turned a few pages and began reading slowly.
The three of them still said nothing.
Liu Xinyu read until well past midnight, when his eyelids began to droop. He laid the book facedown on his chest, crawled into the bedding Yang Qingyu had laid out for them, and went to sleep.
Luo Bisheng came in every so often, bent at the waist, his footsteps silent. He stood beside the livestreaming equipment and checked each piece.
His movements were quiet throughout.
So was the sound of the door closing behind him.
Another day passed.
Noon.
There were three knocks at the door.
Wang Xiaoliang looked up.
Huang Xueli stood in the doorway wearing a gray sweatshirt, his hair shorter than the last time they had met. He looked at Wang Xiaoliang and smiled.
Wang Xiaoliang smiled too and called, "Brother."
Huang Xueli nodded