Ethan Young used to help out at the stall a lot. Seeing that it was still early and he had nothing else to do, he patted Ray Jones on the shoulder and said, "Still five o'clock?"

He didn't react to the first pat, and only after the second did Ray Jones come back to his senses: "Ah, no—no need for you to help."

Ethan Young: "What are you thinking about?"

Ray Jones thought to himself, I'm thinking about this bizarre world.

There were a lot of people at the barbecue stall, and since it was cold in winter, Lei's dad and mom had set up a tent on a vacant lot near the street.

Even though they wouldn't let him do much, Ethan Young still went over to help take orders and serve dishes. Ray Jones was hosting at the next table, but the people at that table were rattling off their order too fast for him to keep up, even with a pen in hand: "Wait a sec, how many lamb skewers?"

"Twenty skewers," Ethan Young stuffed the order from table 1 into Ray Jones's hand, and added, "Half a case of beer, one fried rice."

There were seven or eight items in total, and Ray Jones hurried to write them down, amazed: "How did you know?"

"I heard them."

He had a good memory—just hearing or seeing something once was enough for him to remember it.

Ray Jones handed the two order slips to Lei's mom, leaned against the plastic tent door, and, feeling the urge to smoke, fished out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. After a moment's thought, he said, "Mom, I remember Boss Young used to get pretty good grades."

Lei's mom took the slips, her hands busy, and replied offhandedly, "I remember you got a hundred in math in first grade too."

Ray Jones: ""

The evening was the busiest time, and after nine there were basically no customers left. When the last table finished eating, Ethan Young helped them pack up, dragging plastic stools toward the storage room.

"Try to talk them into it," after working for a while, Ethan Young was a bit tired too. After putting away the stools, he walked back and said, "It's almost New Year, they should just take a break at home for a while."

There were still a few kids on the street playing with sparklers. As soon as they lit up, the sparks burst out, sizzling for a few seconds.

Ray Jones was carrying a storage box. After putting it down, he stood there, several thoughts running through his mind. In the end, he couldn't hold back and called out, "Boss Young."

Ethan Young didn't look back: "If you have something to say, spit it out."

"Is that x you?"

Ray Jones asked again, "The one in Quiz King, whatever that thing is called, I can't remember—was it you?"

------------

88. Chapter Eighty-Eight

Ethan Young's first reaction was to say "No," but the word hovered on his lips for a long time.

Ray Jones's question was just too serious.

After knowing him for so many years, he was always joking around, carefree, and could be counted on one hand the number of times he was this serious. Other than when his favorite toy was snatched as a kid, the closest was when Belle left—he drank several bottles of booze, sat at the alley entrance, and drunkenly asked him, "Belle will come back, right?" That person—

Whether they come back or not is hard to say. Everyone has their own path to walk.

Ethan Young looked at him, sighed inwardly, and still said, "She'll come back."

During winter break, Ray Jones would poke at him whenever he had nothing to do, always picking the times when he was doing practice problems, often messaging him in the middle of the night: Are you asleep, Boss Young? What are you doing?

Not playing games.

What game?

Ethan Young hadn't thought much of it at the time, but looking back now, he realized something was off.

That vague suspicion in Ray Jones's mind kept bubbling up. He took a few steps forward, wiped all expression from his face: "Say something, you—"

Ray Jones couldn't finish his sentence—because Ethan Young was silent for a moment, then interrupted:

"It's me."

Ethan Young then asked back, "How did you know?"

That made Ray Jones instantly furious, the feeling of being deceived too strong, and for a moment he forgot to even think about 'why would Boss Young do this':

"How did I know—don't you have any idea yourself? I've copied your homework for so many years, your handwriting, whether you write fast or slow, whether it's joined up or messy, even if you switched to your left hand, I'd still recognize it!"

""

Ethan Young really hadn't expected to be caught by something like this.

"We've been brothers for so many years, and you lie to me like this?" Ray Jones cursed as Ethan Young dragged him by the collar into a corner, "The first time I asked you why your grades dropped, what did you say? You said there are always people better than you, life has its ups and downs, turns out you were just bullshitting me!"

Ray Jones ranted for a while, still fuming.

Ethan Young let him curse, didn't talk back, probably the most patient he'd ever been: "Had enough? If not, keep going."

Ray Jones took out a pack of cigarettes, hid in the corner and finished one. Ethan Young checked the time, was about to leave, when Ray Jones reached out to stop him, asking quietly, "What are you really thinking? Don't go, squat down, let's have a proper talk."

"Squat my ass, if I don't leave now I'll miss the bus."

"Then let's talk as we walk," Ray Jones immediately compromised, "Just walk slower."

Ray Jones had imagined all sorts of reasons, but never expected this.

The last bus was at nine. While waiting, Ethan Young explained everything in a few words. After hearing it, Ray Jones cursed several times, and besides cursing, didn't know what else to say: "That bastard Zhong—"

At first he was mad at Ethan Young, but after that, he couldn't help being mad on Ethan Young's behalf.

He was so angry his hand holding the cigarette was shaking, his mind full of 'fuck'.

To keep him from showing off his Blackwater Street-level cursing skills in public, Ethan Young kicked him: "Enough, the bus is here, don't just stand there, go home and rest. Get lost."

The bus slowly approached from the other end, its headlights shining straight over.

Ethan Young got on, took a couple of steps inside, then, before the doors closed, stepped back to the entrance. He grabbed the handrail by the door, half his body leaning out: "If you don't want to die, keep your mouth shut. I'm serious, you'd better find a way to seal that mouth of yours—"

Ray Jones really wanted to, but when he got home he tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Lei's mom got up at night to drink water, and was scared half to death by her son sitting in the dark on the sofa.

Ray Jones sat on the sofa for a long time, couldn't help but scroll through his contacts, his finger hovering over Aunt Lily's name, his mind a mess. He thought about it, decided to let it go, but his hand slipped and he accidentally dialed: ""

Winter break was only a month long, and Ethan Young had basically not touched the pile of homework assigned—just signed his name and never looked at it again.

These days, Ms. Miller had been bringing up the idea of hiring a tutor: "Think about what you've actually done this winter break."

Ethan Young went downstairs to get some water: "I'm doing fine, eating well and sleeping well."

Grace Miller: "Don't change the subject. If this keeps up, what are you planning to do? Is it because I'm not pushing you now, so you—"

Ethan Young hadn't wanted a tutor at first, mainly because keeping his grades in check at school was already annoying enough, and with a tutor, there'd be even more to manage, and it would be easier to slip up.

After Ms. Miller nagged him enough, he still said the same thing: "Mom, I know what I'm doing."

After he said that, this time Ms. Miller didn't snap back like before with a sarcastic 'what do you know'.

Grace Miller sat on the sofa, the remote control at hand.

The TV was playing a cliché drama, the sound swirling around her, but Grace Miller's expression didn't change at all. She sat with a stern face, a hint of suspicion and probing in her eyes.

Grace Miller thought back to that strange phone call last night.

After moving away from Blackwater Street, life was completely different, and her relationship with Yvonne Shaw and the others had gradually grown distant. Other than sending holiday greetings, there was almost no other contact.

On the phone, Ray Jones was rambling, first saying he dialed by accident, then calling her Aunt Lily, hesitating to speak. She'd been woken up in the middle of the night, her mind a bit foggy, and didn't really understand what he was saying. She turned on a small lamp, sat up, and asked, "What's wrong, Big Ray?"

Ray Jones said, "Aunt Lily, have you ever thought about Boss Young's grades—"

Grace Miller clearly heard the word 'grades', but then the kid suddenly changed the subject, babbling nonsense, and finally said, "The moon is really round tonight."

Grace Miller: ""

"Seeing such a bright moon, I thought of you, Aunt Lily."

In recent years, Grace Miller had gotten older. No matter how well she took care of herself, fine lines had crept up at the corners of her eyes, and with a few worries on her mind, that phone call left her tossing and turning, unable to sleep.