At noon the next day, Wang Xiaoliang's phone rang.
Fang Dongxu.
"Xiaoliang, can you come to Old Sichuan? Buy me lunch."
"Not coming, Dongxu. I've got my wife and kid to look after."
"I'm leaving. Aren't you going to see me off?" Fang Dongxu didn't beat around the bush.
There were two seconds of silence on the other end. Fang Dongxu's voice changed, taking on an edge. "I understand. You looked down on me when I had money, and now that I'm a drowned rat, you want even less to do with me. Fine, pretend I never called..."
"Don't pull that on me." Wang Xiaoliang knew he was trying to goad him. He recalled Zhou Qiang's call last night; Zhou Qiang had already told him about Fang Dongxu's situation.
Wang Xiaoliang hesitated.
"All right. Order the food. I'll be there soon."
It was the same little private room as back then.
The paint on the walls had yellowed, and a layer of grease on the tabletop wouldn't wipe off. That was how Sichuan restaurants were. With all the oily smoke, even the best decor wouldn't last more than a few years. Sister Hong had said earlier that they would close for renovations that summer. The couple also wanted to visit their hometown; they'd been so busy they hadn't been back in years.
When Wang Xiaoliang pushed open the door, Fang Dongxu was already sitting inside.
A pot of tea and two teacups sat in front of him. No food, no alcohol.
"That was quick." Fang Dongxu looked a little surprised.
"I live nearby." Wang Xiaoliang sat down. "Why haven't you ordered?"
"I don't have any money. You're treating, so it's more appropriate to wait for you to order."
Wang Xiaoliang glanced at him without a word. He'd lost so much