You Are Deep in The Stars

No. 36 Mojin Hutong, Yangliu Street, East Second District, was not a noodle shop at all. It was just a dilapidated shanty house with half-dried clothes hanging at the door, swaying under the moon and wind, like many colorful broken flags. A thin man squatted by the alley, picking up the dried vegetables in front of him and preparing to put them back into the bamboo basket.

He turned over the vegetables with great concentration and seriousness, as if he wanted to find a handful of diamonds among the shriveled cowpeas. It wasn’t until two pairs of feet appeared in front of him that the man stopped what he was doing and raised his head with a face full of reluctance. His facial features were a bit crowded, and a dark light shone in his mouse-like eyes.

It was at this moment that Bai Xi felt the horror.

It was an unreasonable, sudden, but real panic. Tiny chicken skin exploded on his tight skin, and he suddenly felt a panic in his heart. He instinctively wanted to run away and escape. There was a strange suffocating feeling, but before he could take a step forward, Han Zhuo had already asked: “When will the late-night snacks be sold?”

Bai Xi: “…”

The thin man patted the chopped cowpeas in his hand and replied: “It’s half past eight.”

To Bai Xi’s expectation, the other person’s voice was extremely inconsistent with his appearance. It was deep and his pronunciation was very standard. If he closed his eyes, some people would believe him if he said he was a political news anchor.

“It’s eight twenty-nine now,” Han Zhuo looked at the time.

The man agreed, stood up, and pulled something casually. Three huge light bulbs suddenly lit up around him, illuminating the alley as bright as day.

Han Zhuo was shaken and narrowed his eyes: “Aren’t you afraid of paying the electricity bill now?”

“Not afraid,” the man opened the table and replied in a clear voice, “This is the electricity I stole from the street lamp.”

Bai Xi: “…”

“You are quite proud.” Then Han Zhuo asked, “What do you want to eat?”

“Me?” Bai Xi quickly declined, “I’m not hungry, you can eat by yourself.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Han Zhuo poured him tea, “You probably haven’t had dinner either.”

Not having dinner was one thing, but looking at the dark liquid in the disposable tea cup, Bai Xi once again firmly stated his position: “Thank you, I’m really not hungry.”

“Okay,” Han Zhuo smiled and did not force him, only asking for himself a bowl of noodles and a bowl of soup.

.

The bright lights, the aroma of the food, and the sounds of quarrels and barking dogs coming from the surrounding neighbors made the alley filled with worldly vitality in an instant, and the previous gloomy feeling disappeared. So much so that Bai Xi had to seriously think about why he had that strange… illusion of danger just now.

The noodles were cooked quickly and served. Han Zhuo ate them gracefully, as if he were enjoying a French meal. Bai Xi sat across from him, holding his head with one hand and dozing off. Just when he was about to be swallowed up by one blurry dream after another, Han Zhuo finished the last sip of soup and put the bowl back on the table: “Boss, pay the bill.”

Bai Xi woke up from his sleep and looked at the man in front of him in confusion.

Han Zhuo smiled kindly and reminded in a low voice: “Well, I don’t have any money.”

“Sorry, I fell asleep,” Bai Xi patted his sleepy head and asked casually, “Is there any mineral water?”

“No,” the boss replied.

“Okay, then pay the bill,” Bai Xi took out a big bill from his wallet, “No need to change.”

The boss glanced at it: “It’s not enough.”

Bai Xi was confused when he heard this, and he pointed to the empty bowl on the table: “This is it. Fifty is not enough for braised noodles?”

The boss replied: “Two hundred and eighty-eight for a bowl.”

Bai Xi had a complicated mood: “Does the Price Bureau know about this?”

“I don’t know,” the boss picked up the empty bowl and said, “I only set up a stall at night.”

.

Bai Xi looked at Han Zhuo silently, with thousands of words in his eyes, ‘why did you have to go through most of the city to come to this shop without a business license, without a health certificate, and evade taxes? Come to eat noodles in a dark shop that charges extortionate prices for electricity?’

Han Zhuo had a good attitude: “Let me borrow it from you first and pay it back later.”

Bai Xi had nothing to say, so he slapped three hundred yuan on the table and considered himself unlucky.

“You must have never been here before,” Han Zhuo pulled him as they walked out, “Be careful not to step on the garbage.”

Bai Xi said “hmm” absently, and then asked: “Is this a slum area?”

Han Zhuo did not answer this question.

.

The taxi traveled through the city again, and when the two finally arrived home, it was already close to early morning. Bai Xi handed Han Zhuo to the housekeeper aunt, gave her a few more dutiful instructions, and then dragged his sore body back to the bedroom.

“Mr. Han, this will be your residence from now on,” Aunt Li stood at the door of the guest room and introduced, “There are new clothes in the cabinet and toiletries in the bathroom. If you need anything else, you can come to me at any time.”

“Thank you, this is already very good,” Han Zhuo nodded.

.

The night was dark, and Bai Xi threw himself on the bed, feeling the moisture after bathing. He was exhausted and had no energy to even dream. Downstairs, Han Zhuo leaned against the window, gazing thoughtfully into the distance – where his eyes fell, there was a magnificent Milky Way running through the sky, bright, vast, and dazzling.