Jiang Xun was missing

Shen Wangjing said nothing, his gaze sweeping briefly over Jiang Xun's back.

The bruise had yet to fade completely. Last night, while Jiang Xun was asleep, he had applied medicine again. The purplish discoloration had lightened, but it was still visible.

Without a word, he shouldered two sacks of corn and went out.

Jiang Xun was just about to follow when he heard Shen Wangjing talking to the old man next door outside the courtyard gate. After barely a few words, Shen Wangjing returned, pushing an old cargo tricycle.

The old man next door used it to haul fertilizer. A layer of crumbs still littered the cargo bed, one tire was flat and another half-flat, and the chain was so rusty it could shed flakes.

But for this household, it was already the most presentable means of transport they could borrow.

Shen Wangjing stacked the sacks of corn in the cargo bed, then spread a plastic sheet over them.

He climbed onto the seat, his toes touching the ground, and glanced back at Jiang Xun.

Jiang Xun had already climbed into the cargo bed without being told. Sitting cross-legged between the sacks of corn, he flashed him a grin.

"Let's go."

The mountain road was bumpy enough to shake a person's bones apart.

The tricycle rolled over the rutted dirt road, the sacks of corn bouncing in the cargo bed as Jiang Xun swayed from side to side on top of them.

He clutched the edge of the cargo bed with one hand and held his lower back with the other, his teeth clacking with every jolt.

Shen Wangjing pedaled up front, the muscles in his back rising and falling with the motion.

He pedaled steadily for the entire ten kilometers of mountain road, barely even getting out of breath. Only on the uphill stretches did he stand up for a few strokes. The chain clacked over the gears, and their speed never dropped.

By the time they reached town, the sun was already high in the sky.

Jiang Xun had been to markets many times before.

Every Wednesday afternoon, the orphanage would organize a trip to the nearby farmers' market for the children to buy supplies. The older children carried the vegetables, while the younger ones walked in a line behind them.

Back then, the people he envied most were not the rich people with new clothes to wear and game consoles to play with, but the children at the farmers' market holding an adult's hand-

When they wanted candied hawthorn skewers, someone bought them some. When they wanted meat buns, someone paid for them. When they no longer wanted to walk, someone carried them.

He had none of that.

But that was all childhood stuff.

The Jiang Xun of today had long since stopped caring. He had hands and feet of his own. Whatever he wanted to eat, he could buy himself; whoever he wanted to beat up, he could do it himself. He did not need anyone to back him up.

The market was at the crossroads in the center of town. Colorful plastic canopies filled the junction, with vegetable, meat, clothing, and farm-tool vendors crammed together, their calls rising over one another in waves.

Shen Wangjing parked the tricycle beneath a crooked willow at the end of the street and paid a fifty-cent parking fee to the old woman squatting nearby, cracking sunflower seeds.

He unloaded the two sacks of corn from the cargo bed, squatted down, and spread the sacks open. The golden ears of corn gleamed in the sunlight.

Jiang Xun squatted beside him and watched for a while, only to discover that Shen Wangjing's way of selling things was just like the man himself: painfully quiet.

The man selling potatoes beside them shouted at the top of his lungs, "Homegrown potatoes, big and sweet! If they don't taste good, you don't pay!"

The woman selling eggs haggled glibly with a customer. "Five yuan a jin! Where else are you going to find free-range eggs this good?"

Only Shen Wangjing's stall was as quiet as a pool of stagnant water.

Jiang Xun rolled his eyes.

Unable to watch any longer, he stood in front of the sacks and called at the top of his lungs, "Corn for sale! Homegrown sweet corn! Sweet and tender! If it doesn't taste good, I'll pay you back double!"

His voice was clear and bright, standing out sharply among all the rough voices. Passersby turned to look-

A fair, clean-cut young boy stood in front of the sacks, his eyes curving with his smile and two dimples showing clearly at the corners of his mouth. He was instantly likable.

A woman carrying a shopping basket slowed down, her gaze moving over the two sacks.

Jiang Xun immediately opened a plastic bag and blinked his lovely eyes, curved like little crescent moons. "Miss, you picked such a lovely color for your skirt. It really brings out your fair complexion."

The woman instinctively glanced down at her skirt, the corners of her mouth lifting.

"I can tell at a glance that you know how to pick the good stuff," Jiang Xun said earnestly, patting a sack.

"This corn was picked before dawn this morning. Take it home and boil an ear, and you'll see. Guaranteed sweet. Everyone else just wanders around the market, but you came over and had your eyes on our corn right away-you've got such a good eye!"

Dazed by his barrage of compliments and flattery, the woman came to her senses to find a bag of corn already in her hand.

Jiang Xun was handing her change, complete with a perfectly dimpled smile. "Take care, miss! Come back when you've finished it!"

Even after walking several steps away with the corn, the woman was still looking down and admiring her skirt.

Once they made their first sale, business went smoothly.

Jiang Xun could both hawk their wares and sweet-talk customers. One moment he was saying, "Ma'am, your skin is so lovely. Is it because you eat corn every day?" The next, it was, "Sir, you're in such good shape. You must eat plenty of whole grains." He had the older men and women grinning from ear to ear.

In less than an hour, the two sacks of corn were almost empty.

Shen Wangjing squatted beside him, handling the weighing and taking payments. He barely said a word the entire time, but his gaze landed on Jiang Xun more than once.

The young master squatted in front of the sacks with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Neither his mouth nor his hands stopped moving as he bagged, weighed, and counted out change in one smooth sequence.

An hour in the sun had left his face a little red and his calls had made his voice hoarse, but the brightness in his eyes was more dazzling than the sun overhead.

After collecting the last handful of change, Shen Wangjing smoothed out the bills, folded them, and tucked them into his trouser pocket. When he raised his head again, he instinctively turned to look for Jiang Xun.

But no matter where he looked, Jiang Xun was nowhere to be seen.

Shen Wangjing scanned the market.

The woman selling potatoes was still calling out, the old man selling eggs was still haggling with someone, and several children were squatting beneath the crooked willow, playing marbles.

His heart tightened, and his brow furrowed unconsciously.

Jiang Xun was not the sort to stay put. He should have realized that long ago.

But the town was not like the village. There were crowds of people and prying eyes, and Jiang Xun was an unfamiliar face. If he ran into trouble...