They Were All Bad People

He had learned about dating from the new comic book Xiangxiang had given him.

But Xiangxiang had not visited lately. They only kept in touch by phone, and Sun Xiangxiang recorded videos of the comic with narration, sending them to Bai Congming one page at a time.

From this new comic book, Bai Congming learned that some people needed to go through a dating stage before becoming intimate.

Once he realized this, Bai Congming felt he had been very inconsiderate. He had done nothing, yet he had gotten someone as wonderful as Ding Ding.

Sun Xiangxiang told him that dates most commonly involved eating, shopping, and watching a movie. Bai Congming thought he needed to make it up to Brother Ding.

When he discovered that the Little Piggy Bank was empty, Bai Congming was puzzled at first. But then he remembered the dishes they had been having for dinner lately and felt it was perfectly normal that the money was gone.

Brother Ding was much harder to care for than flowers. He needed more meat to heal faster.

Bai Congming was much more outgoing than before now, and would take the initiative to speak to people at Flower Nursery other than Auntie Zhou.

As they got to know him, everyone realized that this fool was clearly just a child, and became much friendlier.

When they heard that Little Bai wanted to make money, several of the aunties helped him think of ways.

"Over at the docks... no, no, that work's too hard."

"He has to work during the day. How about collecting bottles and cardboard nearby at night? It adds up to a fair bit of money, though it's not much..."

"Can Little Bai ride an electric scooter? I see lots of you young people delivering takeout. Oh, but it's a little dangerous!"

However they thought it over, none of the options seemed suitable.

Bai Congming thanked the aunties and said he would go home and give it some thought.

Aunt Xie casually brought it up when she got home, only meaning it as an amusing anecdote, but Xie Xiao Hua happened to hear it and take it to heart.

So Xie Xiao Hua thought it over all night, then made some resin earrings with little flowers encased inside to get closer to Bai Congming.

"Make them yourself," Xie Xiao Hua told him. "Once you're done, I'll take them out and sell them for money."

But Brother Ding said Auntie Xiao Hua would not come looking for him again, and the little rings he made were useless. Bai Congming felt a little dejected.

"Who said they're useless?"

Ding Ding coaxed him. "With the little flowers inside, they'll never wilt."

Bai Congming nodded, feeling that Ding Ding made a lot of sense, and soon put the matter out of his mind to confirm something more important.

"Day off, date!"

"..."

Summer was very short in M City. Not long after the spring breezes passed, a few cicada calls rang out in the courtyard, and by the next time they went out, people were already wearing jackets.

Ding Ding gradually grew used to this life. He seemed to have nothing, but in truth, he had more than enough.

With someone in the household working regular hours, Ding Ding was forced to start going to bed and getting up early after his cast came off.

He got up to make Little Bai breakfast, took him to Flower Nursery on the electric scooter after they ate, made their unfailing video call at noon, and picked him up on time in the afternoon.

If Bai Congming was not tired that day, he would go to the market with Ding Ding and buy a few freshly baked little cakes.

On their days off, the two went out to watch movies, look at flowers, and watch the busy people at the docks and the surging sea.

Ding Shu occasionally came over for a free meal. For some unknown reason, her work was currently centered in M City, and that would not change anytime soon.

A regular routine made time pass quickly. In the blink of an eye, golden autumn had arrived.

"You're just going to sit around like this?" Ding Shu was utterly scornful. "Stay home and live off your boyfriend?"

"I've got a weak stomach," Ding Ding said shamelessly. "What's wrong with living on something easy to digest?"

Twenty thousand yuan went a surprisingly long way, or perhaps life was simply too comfortable now. In any case, Ding Ding remained very idle.

Occasionally, he referred some business to former clients. Acting as a middleman earned him a little money too.

The sense of security that long strings of digits in his bank account had never been able to provide was fulfilled in this shabby little courtyard.

When the autumn rain began to fall, Bai Congming grew unhappy.

Usually so alert and full of energy, he had been listless lately, without a trace of vitality.

Ding Ding was very worried. Even cooking a whole tableful of dishes to please him failed to coax out a smile. It was not until night that Bai Congming huddled beneath the covers and tearfully complained to Ding Ding in a sleepy daze.

"They're all bad people..."

Ding Ding froze. "Who?"

"Them..."

"..."

Ding Ding did not press him, because Bai Congming did not seem to want to talk. He simply slipped a voice recorder into Bai Congming's pocket when they went out the next morning.

The voice recorder had come free with something Ding Shu bought. She had no use for it, so she brought it over for these two lovesick fools.

Ding Ding refused to admit that he was a lovesick fool, but he did use the recorder, secretly recording a few sappy words every day while Little Bai was out.

There were many ways to preserve memories. Some people liked photographs; others liked voices.

When time had worn their memories away, revisiting the past would surely be interesting.

Watching Bai Congming trudge into Flower Nursery with his head hanging, Ding Ding thought that perhaps he really had been idle for too long.

He climbed onto the electric scooter and wandered aimlessly around M City.

The pace of life in a city could be gauged entirely by whether the pedestrians hurried along its streets.

M City had two extremes. The central business district stayed brightly lit night after night as young people poured in their time and energy, trying to carve out bright futures from their cubicles.

The old neighborhoods were completely different. Streetside teahouses were packed, and chirps from birdcages mingled with the clacks of wooden Chinese chess pieces striking their boards.

Quiet, yet not quiet.

One in the east, the other in the west, they divided the city into two entirely different worlds.

The electric scooter passed through alleys and crowds before finally stopping outside a clothing shop by the road.

Ding Ding got off and went inside.

The shop was small, but its stock was varied. Perhaps because the clothes were cheap, a faint chemical smell hung in the air.

Ding Ding knew this smell well. It was what happened when garment factories packed clothes straight after washing, without letting them cool.

The owner leaned behind the counter playing mahjong on his phone. When a customer came in, he merely greeted him briefly and told him to look around.

Ding Ding murmured an acknowledgment and did exactly that.

The domestic market seemed unchanged. At a glance, polyester covered almost the entire shop.

Ding Ding felt as though he were inside a giant plastic box, his breathing growing labored.

"How much is this?"

Ding Ding picked up a white knitted shirt at random and asked.

The owner lifted his eyes for a glance. "Three hundred and twenty."

"Make it cheaper."

-He still had to go through the motions.

The owner made a great fuss, talking about the poor economic climate and insisting that all his stock was surplus from major brands. Only when Ding Ding grew impatient and turned to leave did the owner call him back.

"How much are you offering?"

"Forty." Ding Ding's expression did not change.

The owner pretended to agonize over it, then briskly got up a moment later and found a plastic bag for him to put the shirt in.

"Fine, take it, take it. Let's call it my first sale of the day."

Ding Ding paid, carried the bag back to the electric scooter, and climbed on, then lowered his head and began separating the yarn in the shirt.

A professional could tell the yarn count with a twist of the fingers and estimate the cost of a garment from that.

Unfortunately, Ding Ding was not that skilled. He had to hold it up to the light and count several times, then take out a calculator to work it out.

From dyeing the greige fabric to cutting and washing the garment, plus the buttons and other fittings, this shirt cost about eight yuan fifty to produce. If it was surplus from an export order, the price could be even lower.

Ding Ding lifted his head and leaned against the scooter's handlebars, a faint smile curving his lips.

Sure enough, some people were born to be unscrupulous merchants.