The Years of Waterjade

When I was in college, I couldn't afford the rent for a single-room apartment near the campus and had no choice but to move into a low-cost dormitory specifically for students. On the day I reported to school, I dragged my suitcase alone and searched several places, but none were satisfactory. I was especially wary of those old wooden buildings, fearing that in the event of a fire, the wood would burn down, leaving no chance to escape. The weather was still somewhat cold at the time, but after running around all day, I was drenched in sweat.

Just as I was about to give up and pick the least problematic option among the places I'd already visited to sign a lease, Yongze showed up, looking a bit excited.

"Shen Mo! You're here! You should have called me—I've been holding up a sign for ages and didn't see you. Have you found a place to stay?"

"Not yet," I replied.

"Are you renting a private place or going for a student dorm?"

"I'm just about to sign—"

"Vienna! The Vienna Apartments. It's a great place—I'm staying there now. Come on, I'll take you."

Yongze took the handle of my suitcase from me and headed toward the other side of the street. I couldn't refuse, so I followed him.

"Is it expensive?" I asked.

"I know people – you can stay for free," he replied.

I appreciated his kindness but wasn't quite sure about "staying for free." I followed him down a tree-lined path to a traditional-style small building at the end of the road. The main entrance was open, and Yongze was already chatting with someone inside. I walked in.

"Hello," said the receptionist. "Are you looking for a place to stay?"

"He's the one I was talking about earlier," Yongze said. "Can you lower the price a bit more?"

"Young master, I really can't go any lower," the receptionist replied.

"How much? I'll pay," I said.

The receptionist hesitated briefly. "800 a month."

"That's fine. I'll pay," I said.

800 a month. I had no idea how I could find a place this cheap elsewhere.

"I remember my family has always been good to you," Yongze added.

"Young master, if I may say so—this place really can't go any cheaper!"

I completed the paperwork and received the room key from the receptionist. Yongze immediately offered to help with my luggage. Before I could respond, he had already taken my suitcase and headed down the corridor. I had no choice but to follow him with my backpack to the room indicated on the key.

"Here, your luggage," he said. "Get your things settled, and I'll show you the facilities around here later."

He then walked off down the hallway. I turned around and opened the door with the room card, set my suitcase down and pulled out the chair from under the desk to sit. Before long, Yongze showed up again at the door, carrying a small pot of mint.

"Here, your housewarming gift."

I already felt bad enough owing him for helping me get the room, so I didn't want to accept the gift. But he insisted. "Just take it!" he said. "Come on, let me show you around."

I happened to catch a glimpse of his student ID, which had "Feng Yongze" written in bold characters. It was only then that I realized I'd only ever called him Yongze and never knew his last name.

It was close to the Lunar New Year. The school had long since started the holiday break, and most of the students living in this dorm had returned, leaving me with the entire third floor's study rooms to myself. I used the space to read; and sometimes I practiced playing the saxophone. The study rooms were soundproof, but even if they weren't, there was no one around to complain at this time. A few days earlier the study room manager had even sought me out and asked:

"Not going home this year?"

I nodded.

"Here, take this," he said, placing something in my palm.

"I'm heading home for the New Year," he explained. "If you need to use the study room, just unlock them yourself."

"What about when I'm done—"

"Just return the key to the front desk when you're done and let them know."

Outside the window, the trees had almost shed all their leaves. The nearby road, usually quiet, was even more deserted now. Suddenly, I thought I heard someone calling my name. I opened the door but saw no one, so I returned to my spot. Then I noticed Yongze outside, waving at me through the window.

"What are you doing?" he called out loudly.

I held the bell of my saxophone out the window. "Practicing," I replied.

"Can you wait for me?"

"What?"

I wasn't sure if that's what he said; I couldn't hear him clearly. I watched his figure, wrapped in a deep blue coat, gradually disappear into the distance. I pulled the saxophone back in and resumed battling the cheap, low-quality reeds I had bought to save money. Before long, he appeared at the study room door, slightly out of breath.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hey," I replied.

"Just you here?"

"Yeah," I said with a wry smile.

"I didn't know you played the saxophone."

I then told him the story of my uncle, who was expelled from school in his youth for causing trouble, wandered around, and eventually left for Southeast Asia. He had influenced me to take up the saxophone, and the instrument I now played was the very one he had cherished. Before leaving for Southeast Asia, he couldn't bring it aboard, so he entrusted it to me, his saxophone apprentice.

What I found strange was Yongze still being around at this time of year. "Why are you still here?" I asked.

"I like it here! I'll stay as long as I like. What about you?"

I explained that I had always lived alone and didn't have a pressing reason to go home early.

"Good thing you stayed," he said. "Want to go to the hot springs tonight?"

"Hot springs?"

"Not far, just here."

"Here?"

"It's kind of a perk for the staff. There's a mountain behind the apartment, and at its base, there's a hot spring. Guests don't know about it—if they did, no way they'd let outsiders in," he explained. "Come find me tonight, and I'll take you there."

He pulled a set of keys from his coat pocket.

"I nagged them until I got the keys," he said. "They were going to lock the place up for the break."

"...Okay."

"This place is all ours now," he grinned.

"Do you want sake or whiskey?"

"No, I'll pass."

"Alright. Sake it is."

I watched as he leaned against the edge of the pool, one hand holding a cup of sake, sipping it at his own pace. A wooden tub carrying a sake bottle floated on the water, occasionally crossing the moon's reflection, shattering it into pieces. "Tonight's a full moon," he said, raising his cup and taking a sip. "Lucky us."

As the sound of wind rustled through the forest, we talked about anything and everything. I learned that this property had originally belonged to Yongze's family, but they had fallen on hard times and had to sell it off to survive. Good thing they still recognize him as the son of their old boss, or else we'd have zero chance fooling around like this... When Yongze mentioned this, his face was tinged with bitterness. Not wanting to touch a nerve, I stayed silent and watched the bottle sway in the water.

"Is it any good?" I couldn't help but ask out of curiosity.

"Want to try? There's still some left," he said, pushing the tub towards me.

I took the tub, poured myself a cup, and drank it. The taste was unique, but not unpleasant. I poured another, filling the small ceramic cup to the brim. The tub swayed gently on the water upon the edge of my sight, blurring the boundary between the plain ceramic cup and the moon's reflection. Was the water getting colder, or was it just my imagination? I lifted the sake bottle again, only to find it empty.

I looked up to find Yongze staring at me in surprise.

"I didn't know you liked drinking this much. I'd have brought more if I knew."

"..."

"The convenience store near the apartment is probably still open."

"So... should we drink to our hearts' content tonight?"

We ended up buying more drinks and snacks. Yongze somehow unearthed a frying pan and a portable stove, raided the staff's shared fridge for various seasonings, and started frying meat and dumplings. Cooking in the dorm was technically forbidden, but who was going to stop us now?

I watched Yongze down glass after glass of sake, his plate of fried dumplings untouched, and couldn't help but feel concerned. Just as I was about to say something, he cut me off:

"I think I hate my brother."

He said, almost to himself.

"...Sorry?"

He leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling illuminated by the bulb.

"The day he died in that car accident, I thought, ‘Good. He's finally gone.'

"By all accounts, I shouldn't have felt that way. My brother was never unkind to me. Even when we were both brats, he was always good to me. And yet for whatever reasons, that was how I genuinely felt.

"And I hated myself for it. Maybe bringing you here was my way of making amends. What for, exactly? Honestly, I don't know..."

He fell silent for a moment before continuing.

"Our father worked himself to the bone for two weeks after my brother's death. By the end, anyone could see he was just a shell of himself.

"The day after my brother's funeral, one of the servants called me down for breakfast. As I walked through the hallway, I saw my father sitting on the sofa in the same spot he'd occupied yesterday, as if he hadn't moved at all. I worried he'd followed my brother, but no – he was still there. Only when the servant urged him to eat did he slowly stand and shuffle to the dining table. I almost didn't recognize him.

"For a week, he stayed like that, not going to the company, just sitting there. He's someone who always has a backup plan with things, but this... It showed he'd never considered the possibility of my brother dying this soon, let alone considered having me take over.

"That's when I understood. Even with my brother gone, I was never going to be chosen. The company's people might think otherwise, but I knew. Honestly, if someone like me, a spoiled good-for-nothing, were to take over, it'd probably just lead to the company going under."

The hillside behind Vienna was sold to the government around that time; the apartment building itself and the hot springs in the back were handed over to relatives. Most of the Feng family members, regardless of how much they had once benefited from the Feng patriarch's generosity, stopped treating them as anyone of significance after that; only the head of this particular household, who had been saved by him in his early years, still remembered the old kindness and held onto a sense of gratitude.

He eventually passed out, lying sideways on the floor, using his arm as a pillow, and fell asleep. The plate of pan-fried dumplings remained untouched. I couldn't just leave him like that, so I took out the guest bedding from the cabinet and draped it over him. Then I covered the leftover food with a lid to prevent bugs from having their own feast.

I turned off the room lights. Somewhere in the distance, someone was setting off fireworks; but from here, they were completely out of sight. All I could see was the flickering glow of the sky and the faint sounds that came through the window.

"Goodnight," I said silently in my heart, finishing the rest of the drink in my hand.

The summer break during my junior year was especially stressful. My mother would call the shared telephone in the apartment every few days, urging me to find a job as soon as possible. To appease her, I spent my days riding buses from one end of the city to the other, attending any interview I could get, even the ones at shady organizations that lured applicants in under the guise of recruitment only to charge training fees. Eventually, with the help of a benefactor, I landed a clerical job at a small company in the neighboring city. It wasn't ideal, but it was enough to make her stop nagging. After a few months, I noticed I had some savings in my account. It dawned on me that I no longer had to be as frugal as before, and I began to feel that this life wasn't so bad. However, having to constantly gauge others' moods and tread carefully reminded me that I couldn't live as freely as I had in university. Occasionally, I found myself nostalgic for those times in the Vienna Apartment's study room, practicing my saxophone. Yongze and I still spoke on the phone from time to time. He spent his days navigating the treacherous waters of corporate power struggles, only able to catch his breath in the dead of night.

"Let's grab a meal sometime," I suggested. "I've got money now; I can treat you this time."

"No need," he replied with a wry smile. "You won't be seeing me again."

"Why not?"

"...The company. My father's company. It's mine now."

"Wait, so your father..."

"Retired."

"Oh..." I wracked my brain for a lighthearted comment to ease the mood but couldn't think of anything. "Well, I guess I'll have to address you as the new Boss Feng from now on. Congratulations!"

"No, no, don't congratulate me. Don't say things like that..." He sighed and wiped his face with his hand. "They still dragged me into this, even though everyone knows I'm the last person who should be here."

Over time, I pieced together his situation through his sporadic complaints. Apparently, he had pushed himself to the limit, applying the same last-minute cramming skills he'd used before finals in university to learn everything about the company's operations. Thanks to his decisions and the policies his father had left behind, the Feng Group managed to avoid outright collapse. But its decline was inevitable. Given the intense competition and the challenges brought by a changing environment, even if the great Boss had remained in charge, the outcome would likely to be the same. Yongze often joked about how, in the end, he might have to dismantle what was left of the company, now little more than an empty shell, and resign himself to a life as an ordinary employee working for someone else. But I knew he wasn't the type to live that way.

"I hope it never comes to that," I said.

"You bastard, are you wishing for me to work myself to death?"

"You know that's not what I mean. I'm serious."

"...You're right."

The bitter laugh that came through the phone sounded exhausted and unfamiliar. I had a faint realization then that the carefree rich boy I once knew would never reappear.

Graduation day was approaching quickly. After the ceremony, I dragged my luggage along the campus paths, ready to head back to my rented apartment in the neighboring city, when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. Turning around, I saw Yongze standing there, holding a backpack.

"Hey!" he greeted me.

"...What are you doing here? What about work?" I asked.

"I specifically took time off to visit an old friend. What, are you not happy to see me?"

"Of course not! Come on, let me treat you to some tea."

We bought two cups of lemon tea from a nearby convenience store and chatted as we drank. He told me he had just returned from overseas.

"Life outside is really different from here," he said. "So many people talk about how living abroad broadens your horizons. I thought they were exaggerating, but it turns out they weren't wrong."

"Sounds great. Maybe I should save up and go see the world too."

"You should! You really should. Honestly, staying here would be a waste of your potential."

"Haha, you're flattering me, Boss Feng..."

We continued with such lighthearted small talk for a while until we eventually ran out of things to say. In the end, he simply sipped his tea silently.

"Hey, Mo," he suddenly said, "can I hear you play the saxophone again?"

I immediately took out my saxophone from its case. After finishing a piece, he lowered his head and quietly murmured a thank you. Then he looked up and asked, "Did you enjoy your time living here?"

I told him I especially missed the Japanese sake we drank together that night in the hot springs.

"Haha..." he laughed. "Well, you really should come visit sometime. Someone recently sent me a batch of high-quality sake, and I've been worrying about what to do with it. You know how it is, these things doesn't store well, their flavour goes away so easily and quick..."

Saying this, he sat down by the sidewalk, burying his head in his crossed arms.

"Sorry, I feel a little dizzy. Give me a moment."

Heatstroke? I immediately grew concerned. Thankfully, the store had set up a shaded area nearby. "Do you need me to help you over there to rest?" He didn't lift his head, just waved his hand. "No, I'll be fine. I just need to sit for a bit..."

I let him be. Not long after, muffled sobs began to emerge from between his arms. So I crouched down and sat beside him. I wasn't sure how much time had passed before he slightly raised his head and stared at the concrete ground a few feet ahead. I took a tissue from my pocket and handed it to him.

"Thanks, buddy," he said with a sniffle.

"You're welcome."

I quietly waited for him to dry his tears and sweat.

"You've fought hard," I said quietly. "Fighting a battle you were destined to lose."

The heat in this weather seemed deliberately designed to break people. While standing beside Yongze, I felt not the slightest breeze—just an unrelenting, suffocating heat that seemed to gnaw endlessly at my mind. I watched the people coming and going on the campus paths—graduates with their families, students who had finished finals and were preparing to head home—and I realized that none of them had anything to do with me anymore. Once I left today, I'd truly be saying goodbye to the past. I closed my eyes as a small thought swirled in my mind, urging me to say something.

"If it's so exhausting over there, why don't you just run away?"

He froze and looked at me. "...Can I really run away?"

Oh no. Why did I have to let that slip?

"I mean... I don't know your situation that well," I stammered, scrambling for a way to cover my mistake.

"If I ran away, what would I even do?"

"Well, even if you ask me about that..."

"You could make a living busking on the street with your saxophone, but I—"

"I have a proper job now..."

"A proper job, huh..." he murmured, lowering his head. "Maybe I really should sell the company and move somewhere else. Just get a regular office job and live quietly..."

Before we knew it, the bustling crowd around us had thinned out, and the clock had passed 6:30. The streetlights outside had already turned on. I stared at the near-empty cup of lemon tea in my hand and listened to Yongze talking. A short while ago, someone had called him—probably about some new issue at the company. Maybe it wasn't something only he could resolve, but there were certain documents that only he could sign, certain decisions that only he could make now.

He hung up the phone with a tired smile. "Sorry about that. There's something urgent at work..."

"No problem. You should go."

"...Alright then. I'll get going. Goodbye."

He stood up and tossed his empty disposable cup into the trash.

After that, we both got busy with our own lives and eventually stopped calling each other. What was there to talk about? Complaining about our bosses and colleagues? That was just venting and far less enjoyable than drinking. But drinking always ends the same way – blacking out and waking up with a hangover, which was even more of a letdown.

The last time I saw Yongze was at the funeral of Boss Feng. He had lost his mother as a child, and now, with the passing of his father, he was left with no family in the world. He didn't cry, but the heavy dark circles under his eyes made it clear he hadn't been sleeping. Perhaps he had long accepted that the old Boss's spirit had departed along with his brother's years ago, and this physical death was merely a matter of time. As I left, I patted him on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort. He nodded.

I have never seen him again.

Since there were no more classes scheduled in the final semester, I had moved out of the Vienna Apartments shortly after the start of the term to live closer to my workplace, as I've mentioned before and as you may already know. After the graduation ceremony, I never returned to Waterjade. However, certain matters later required me to return to campus to handle some paperwork, so I had no choice but to make the trip.

I decided to revisit the place where I had lived for three years, only to find that the Vienna Apartments were no longer there. Where the Western-style building should have stood, there was nothing. Perhaps I had been away for too long and remembered the location incorrectly, I thought. After all, I had never been very good at remembering directions since childhood.

So, I decided to head back to campus instead. Although I was never an exemplary student, my grades were decent, and I had managed to leave at least a faint impression on some of my teachers. The August heat in Waterjade was suffocating; as soon as I stepped out of the air-conditioned school office, a thin layer of sweat immediately formed on my skin. Carrying the folder I had just picked up, I walked along the nearly deserted campus paths, empty due to summer vacation, toward the school gate. The sound of cicadas blended with distant metallic clanging from some unknown source, making the summer heat even more unbearable. I was about to leave when someone suddenly called my name. Turning around, I saw Shao Dong waving at me from not far away.

Shao Dong was a high school classmate of mine. Starting from our freshman year of university, he had been working for a rather dubious "boss," first in English training and later in opening chain restaurants. I had once advised him to be cautious, but he didn't seem to care. That boss, surprisingly, had not turned out to be the type to scam money, as I had feared based on stories I'd heard—and experienced myself. So I let it go.

"I never thought I'd see you here," he said.

"I'm here to take care of some paperwork. What about you?"

"The school's moving, so I came with some college friends to take pictures for memories."

"Wait, the school's moving?"

"You didn't notice all the roadblocks and excavators? That's what they're here for." He gestured behind him. "Your school and mine are both relocating."

It was only then that I realized there were indeed excavators parked sporadically along the way I had come. Perhaps it was close to lunchtime, as there weren't any workers in helmets to be seen. "It's been ages since I last had a meal with you!" he said. "This is the perfect chance. What do you want to eat? It's on me!"

We headed to the shopping street we frequented during our university days. With the school preparing to relocate, the area had fallen into decline. Some shops had already pulled down their shutters, displaying "For Lease" signs, while others had signs hanging half-loose with tape that had long since lost its adhesive strength. It was said that years ago, the local residents had fought the government's forced land acquisitions, but in the end, not only were their houses demolished, but the compensation also disappeared without a trace. Now, with the school—one of the culprits—preparing to leave, the area was even more lifeless than before. During my university years, I had focused on my studies and practicing the saxophone, so I wasn't familiar with any good restaurants in the area. I left the decision entirely to him. He chose a Southeast Asian restaurant.

"The tom yum here is top-notch," he said. "You missed out if you never tried it during college."

I followed him into the restaurant. Despite it being midday, the place was nearly empty. The owner was busy in the back kitchen, separated from the dining area by only a thin aluminum-framed window. An industrial fan buzzed loudly on the wall, and the air was thick with the smell of summer heat. Not long after we ordered, the waiter brought out two bowls of tom yum soup. "The rest of the dishes will take a little longer," he said before retreating.

To be honest, I'd never had authentic tom yum soup before, so I couldn't judge how "authentic" this place was. But the soup they served was indeed delicious. All the oppressive heat going through the air into my nostril seems to be drawn out by the intense sour and spicy flavor through the sweat on my skin, clearing my mind a little. I suddenly remembered that Shao Dong had been involved in the student council back in the day and had connections with people. Perhaps he still kept in touch with some of them after graduation. While he expertly peeled shrimp with his chopsticks and teeth, I asked:

"Shao Dong, can I ask you something?"

He didn't stop eating. "Go ahead."

"Did you know a lot of people back in college?"

"Looking for someone? Tell me the name—I might know them."

"Feng Yongze. Feng as in 'abundant harvest,' Yong as in 'forever,' and—"

"—Ze as in 'marsh', the one with the water radical. I know him." He put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth. "The second son of the Feng Group's chairman, Feng Yongze. He mostly spent his time playing around. There were rumors he might be gay."

"Gay?"

"Just rumors. No one really knew for sure."

"What about his current situation—"

"He died last November. Suicide, in a shared apartment," he said.

"Buddy, I probably won't ever come back here again," I said.

He looked slightly surprised. "Did things not go well for you here?"

"I don't know anyone here anymore. What's the point of staying?"

He nodded. "Have you decided where to go next?"

"Longgui."

"Great place! Lots of opportunities. It's a pity I've already decided to head north with my boss, so it might be hard for us to meet again."

We waved goodbye.

I retraced my steps. The trees lining the road were still tall enough to block out the sun, but the road itself had been widened to twice its original size and paved with asphalt. Before I could follow the road to the end, a row of red iron fences blocked my way. Behind the fence, a lone security guard in uniform paced back and forth. The small traditional-style building that should have been behind him was now completely empty, with a U-shaped lock hanging on the handle of its front door. I peered inside, but the security guard immediately looked up at me warily.

I had no choice but to turn back and walk to the bus stop in front of the school gate. The rust on the bus stop sign had worsened, and one of its legs was coming loose, leaving it tilted at an odd angle. I wasn't even sure if buses still came here.

Half an hour later, a bus from the only route listed on the sign appeared from the other end of the road. It seemed almost as if the driver intended to skip the stop entirely, but the bus eventually halted by the tilted signpost. I boarded. Predictably, it was just me and the driver. I decided to strike up a conversation with him as the bus drove through the leaf-strewn streets and onto the road leading out of the area.

"They're even tearing down the school," the driver said. "The whole area we just passed — all of it's coming down."

"Where's it being moved to?" I asked.

"There's no moving. Once it's torn down, it's gone."

I thought of the moss-covered stone monument with the school's name engraved on it at the main gate. A bitter feeling welled up in my chest. So much was being lost. It was as if someone was deliberately trying to make me feel sad, taking away the people and places I knew one by one in just a few short years. I gazed out the window at the scenery disappearing behind the bus and couldn't help but wonder about the fate of that apartment. The mountain had been reclaimed by the government, but what about the hot springs there? Perhaps a new building would rise where the old one stood, and maybe someone would reopen a hot spring inn. But none of it had anything to do with me — I had already been shut out by those red iron fences.

The traffic light ahead turned green, and the driver cleared his throat before stepping on the gas again.

Empty words or heavy ones — neither could fill the thinning sense of belonging I felt. So this topic ends here. Let it never cross my mind again, I told myself silently. The sun was already beginning to set, and the sky was taking on the fiery hues of evening. The school and the road in front of it faded bit by bit behind me.

Even at the end, I couldn't stop myself from caring. So I decided to carve all of it out of my heart. Like a snake shedding old skin to fix its gaze solely on the future, I left everything behind on this land I silently vowed never to set foot on again.

2019.8.1 ~ 2024.11.22