True or False - Chapter 1

As soon as the National Day ceremony concluded, Shen Hengxi turned off the television. He stood and walked to the coffee table to meticulously prepare tea.

The tea tray sat to the side as steam rose from the spout, swirling briefly in the air before settling into his pores. Shen Hengxi inhaled softly, sighing at the town’s fickle weather. As the tea leaves sank to the bottom and the water deepened in color, he filled his cup, blew on the surface, and took a small sip, slowly exhaling the warmth.

He walked to the balcony and tried to force the window open. A dull, metallic screech rang out as a gust of wind brushed against his skin. He set his teacup down to inspect the frame; a layer of black grime coated the sill, and no matter how hard he pulled, the window remained jammed, stuck by some unseen obstruction.

It’s finally broken, he thought.

He had been in this small town for a week. The first few days had been brilliant and scorching, with the sun beating down directly on his small house. Then, in a single night, the lingering heat of summer was chased away by the arrival of a chilly autumn. Shen Hengxi took another sip of tea, deciding to head downstairs to find someone to fix or perhaps entirely replace the window.

As he descended the stairs, the tea in his cup swirled. Rounding the corner, a cacophony of voices reached his ears.

The house Shen Hengxi had purchased was an old building. The ground floor consisted of a row of small shops facing the main road. At first, he assumed the noise was just the usual street vendors hawking their wares. However, as he stepped out of the alley, it became clear something else was happening. A crowd had gathered on the left side of the street; people were standing on their tiptoes, craning their necks to see inside a shop, whispering and gesturing to one another.

Curious, Shen Hengxi drew closer. He wasn’t a local and couldn’t understand their dialect. Just as he lowered his head to take a sip of tea, he noticed a stray leaf had drifted into his cup.

He replaced the lid. Before he could look back up, his gaze was caught by a specific figure.

Amidst the bustling crowd of onlookers, a young man sat casually on a set of steps with one leg hooked up. He rested his chin on his hand, staring at the dense crowd with a look of utter boredom.

Raising an eyebrow, Shen Hengxi walked over and sat down beside him, placing his teacup on the step. Noting the young man’s gaze, Shen Hengxi offered a small smile and took the initiative to greet him.

“Hello.”

Chu Xi’ang first noticed the small teacup blue porcelain with white patterns, engraved with plum blossoms and bamboo. It looked expensive. The voice followed, prompting him to look up at the person beside him.

The stranger wore a knit cardigan and had his long legs tucked in. His face was remarkably handsome. Chu Xi’ang was certain he had never seen this man before.

“Hello,” he replied.

Shen Hengxi watched the growing crowd, wondering what the commotion was about. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Chu Xi’ang glanced at him, seemingly unsure if the question was directed at him. After a moment’s thought, he answered, “An argument.”

“An argument?” Shen Hengxi didn’t understand why a simple spat would draw such a crowd. His interest piqued. “What kind of argument causes this much excitement?”

Chu Xi’ang rested his head back on his hand, his head nodding slightly as he spoke. “A domestic dispute.” He paused, then added, “The husband was caught cheating by the wife. Now they’re having it out, throwing whatever they can get their hands on at each other.”

“And the people standing around?” Shen Hengxi asked.

“Just watching the show,” Chu Xi’ang replied. “Whenever someone has a disaster, everyone wants to see the embarrassment. It’s a bit of entertainment for their daily lives.”

Shen Hengxi turned to him. “Is no one going to help break it up?”

The young man let out a short laugh, looking down as he plucked a fallen leaf from the ground. “No one wants to get involved in that. They’re all neighbors. They see each other every day. If you help one side, the other will hold a grudge against you forever.”

Shen Hengxi nodded and fell silent. He listened to the unfamiliar dialect coming from the crowd a few meters away, joining the ranks of the onlookers from a distance. A gust of wind swirled a few leaves onto the steps.

“Are you a neighbor here too? You seem to know a lot about it,” Shen Hengxi said, trying to keep the conversation going.

Chu Xi’ang lifted his eyelids to look at him.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the crowd. The tight circle broke open, allowing Shen Hengxi to see clearly inside: shattered clay pots, piles of spilled soil, trampled flowers, and two people screaming obscenities at each other.

“That man…”

He heard the young man’s voice beside him.

“That’s my dad. And the woman next to him is my mother,” Chu Xi’ang said, pointing at the two. “That’s why I know the details.”

Before Shen Hengxi could react, the young man stood up and walked toward the crowd. The gap in the circle closed behind him, obscuring the scene once more.

Shen Hengxi clicked his tongue. The kid has such a pleasant voice, but the things he says are so jarring.

He didn’t stay to watch the rest. He turned to find a repairman for his window. Other people’s arguments were none of his business; ensuring his own home was quiet and secure was his priority.

After arranging a time for the repairman to come by, Shen Hengxi passed the scene of the dispute again. The mess on the ground had been cleared, and the storefront appeared peaceful once more.

Just as he was about to look away, he saw the “heroine” of the earlier fight step out. She frowned at him before shouting something back into the shop. As Shen Hengxi continued down the alley, he heard a familiar voice and turned back to look.

The boy walked out of the shop, a trash bag hooked in his hand, listening to the woman speak. With a face of total indifference, he replied: “Got it.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

The phone lay on the sofa. Shen Hengxi was sitting on the rug, opening containers of fried chicken and rice noodles he had ordered for takeout. As the lids popped open, the other end of the line went quiet for a second. “You’re eating lunch at this hour?”

“Mhm,” Shen Hengxi mumbled through a mouthful of noodles. “I don’t know how to cook. I finally found a place where I can eat whatever I want don’t say anything to ruin the mood.”

“Where did you pick up that accent? What are you eating?” The sound of rustling paper came through the phone.

“Fried chicken and rice noodles,” Shen Hengxi replied.

After a long silence, the voice on the other end sighed. “Eat less of that. it’s unhealthy.”

Shen Hengxi pulled the phone closer. “Brother, you’re talking too much.”

“Are you settling in, okay? If you need anything, just tell me. Don’t mistreat yourself,” Shen Tingci said, deftly changing the subject.

Shen Hengxi sighed inwardly, leaning back against the sofa and staring up at the ceiling light. “It’s fine, brother. If I were a kid, that kind of talk would be appropriate. I’m twenty-six. Hearing you say that makes me feel embarrassed.”

“Get lost,” Shen Tingci teased. After a pause, he added, “Hengxi, if you want to come back, just tell me…”

Shen Hengxi picked up his chopsticks again and stuffed a piece of chicken into his mouth. “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up. You should eat early too, Brother. Don’t stay at the office all day and night.”

He pressed the end call button immediately.

The living room fell into silence. The aroma of food lingered in the air, bringing a fleeting sense of “home” to the small space. Shen Hengxi exhaled slowly. Looking at the food in front of him, he suddenly lost his appetite. He wished there were someone there to ask him, “What do you want to eat?”

“Ang-bao, what do you want to eat today?”

Chu Xi’ang walked from the living room into the kitchen. “Whatever you want to make, Grandma.”

“You finally come home for a visit; how could I let you go hungry?” Lin Fang was washing a large wok at the stove. “I’ll braise some meat and make some red-cooked fish. Oh, and you like stir-fried starch jelly, right? I got up early just to buy some. Guess what else I got?”

Chu Xi’ang leaned one hand on the table and rested the other on her shoulder. “You went out that early? You must have bought the ghost shrimp and the ribs.”

“Heh, clever boy!” Lin Fang wiped her hands on her apron and pushed him back slightly, showing off a piece of pork belly like it was a treasure. “I told Grandpa Li yesterday to save the best cut for me. Look at this, isn’t it perfect?”

“Don’t let my mom hear you say that,” Chu Xi’ang said, leaning in for a closer look.

Lin Fang grumbled playfully. “What do they know? We’ve been neighbors for years; why would he lie to me? I say your parents just have too much on their minds these days.”

Chu Xi’ang smiled but didn’t say anything. “Grandma, don’t work too hard. We can’t eat that much.”

“My grandson is on a long break! If we don’t finish it today, we’ll eat it tomorrow. You look thinner every time I see you. I don’t know what your mother is so busy with all day. Ang-bao, promise me you’ll stay home these next few days. I look forward to you coming back all year.” Lin Fang turned back to her work.

The small counter was covered in baskets filled with fresh ingredients, still glistening with water. Chu Xi’ang’s gaze drifted back to his grandmother. It might have been an illusion, but she seemed shorter than the last time he saw her.

“Let me help you. How can you handle a whole feast by yourself?”

Lin Fang laughed. “Oh, I’m used to it!”

An hour and a half later, as the dishes were being set on the table, the sound of a car echoed outside. Chu Xi’ang didn’t look out; he simply finished setting the chopsticks.

Lin Fang had been waiting at the door. Seeing Chu Hui get out of the car, she ignored her daughter’s sour expression and rushed forward. “Xiao Hui, are you tired today?”

Chu Hui brushed her off with a cold “Not tired” and walked straight inside, leaving Lin Fang standing awkwardly in the yard.

Hearing his tone, Guo Xiaoyan stormed in after him. “Who do you think you’re giving attitude to? Can’t you speak like a human or greet people? Do you think you’re superior just because you stepped through this door?”

Lin Fang’s brow furrowed into deep lines. She looked into the house, nervously rubbing her hands against her clothes.

“Grandma, come eat,” Chu Xi’ang said, stepping out and putting an arm around her to lead her inside. “She made all this food; let’s eat while it’s hot.”

Lin Fang patted his hand and forced a smile. “Mhm. Those two…”

The words died in her throat. “Let’s go. Don’t let those two ungrateful ones eat it all. Let’s get inside.”

Chu Xi’ang helped her into her chair and sat across from her. For a while, the only sound was Chu Hui chewing. Guo Xiaoyan was clearly annoyed with him but said nothing more. She turned to Lin Fang. “Mom, start eating. Ignore the people who have no manners.”

The sound of Chu Hui’s chopsticks hitting his bowl grew louder.

Chu Xi’ang poured drinks for the three of them and raised his glass to his grandmother. “Thanks for the hard work.”

Lin Fang beamed, clinking her glass against his. “It’s no hard work. I’m happy, truly happy.”

“Yes, we only get to enjoy this kind of food when your grandson comes back,” Guo Xiaoyan added, her mood finally lightening.

But those words seemed to hit a nerve with Chu Hui. He pushed his bowl into the center of the table. One chopstick remained across the bowl, while the other fell to the floor broken and discarded.

Lin Fang stood up, leaning in. “Xiao Hui…”

“Mom, don’t bother with him,” Guo Xiaoyan said, sitting upright and casually gnawing on a rib. “If you can’t stand being in this house, then get out. Don’t sit there with a long face like everyone owes you something.”

Chu Hui glared at them. “A house full of shrews. What bad luck! You think I want to eat here? You think your threshold is so high? You spend all day looking down your noses at people. Idiots!”

Without another word, he walked out, not sparing a glance for the three people at the table.

Lin Fang asked weakly, “What’s wrong with Xiao Hui?”

Chu Xi’ang took her bowl to serve her some soup. “Grandma, drink the soup while it’s hot.”

“Right, right,” Lin Fang took the bowl, still wanting to say something, but Chu Xi’ang cut her off.

“Is there someone new in the neighborhood?”

“Who? Someone new?” Lin Fang’s interest was instantly sparked.

Guo Xiaoyan nodded. “There is one. Quite handsome, looks like a refined dresser, too. But he’s not from around here; he only speaks Mandarin.”

“An outsider, then? Why would someone like that come to our little town?” Lin Fang wondered.

“Who knows? Maybe he has relatives here.” Guo Xiaoyan finished her meal and pushed her bowl aside. “You two take your time. I have a job at the shop I need to finish this afternoon.”

The door closed with a gust of wind. Chu Xi’ang turned to look out the window. His parents had arrived in a hurry and left like a whirlwind.

“Sigh…” Lin Fang exhaled, placing a large piece of meat into Chu Xi’ang’s bowl. “They don’t know what they’re missing. We’ll eat by ourselves.”

“Mhm,” Chu Xi’ang replied.

“Is that person your mother mentioned real?” Lin Fang asked again. “By the sound of it, could he be some kind of young master from the city?”

Hearing her use the term “young master,” the corners of Chu Xi’ang’s mouth curled slightly. He thought of the man he had met earlier. He didn’t know if the man was a “young master,” but he certainly had a very handsome face.