This street-side open-air "chess house" doesn’t just have Go; there are six sets of stone tables and chairs, and each table has at least two types of chessboards stacked on it. The neighborhood committee is quite thoughtful, having placed plenty of military chess, Chinese checkers, and aeroplane chess in the nearby little convenience store. But usually, it’s mostly uncles and grandpas playing Chinese chess, with Go coming in second. Although Go often takes an astonishing amount of time, it creates the illusion of being “so cultured,” so quite a few people play it too.

Grandma’s house isn’t far from here, and there’s also an open mini-park next door, with green lawns and a small square. It’s a cool hangout spot for skateboarding, parkour, BMX, and street dance all in one. Since elementary school, Eric Bennett has liked coming here to hang out—during holidays, when skipping school, or running away from home, this area was always the first choice.

“You went back to your parents’ place last week, didn’t you?” David Reed asked as they walked. “How come you’re back again? This time you didn’t even last ten days?”

“Yeah,” Eric Bennett nodded. “I’m not used to it.”

“Not used to what?” David Reed asked. “It’s always that line. You just can’t get used to them keeping an eye on you, right?”

“You always ask even though it’s always the same answer.” Eric Bennett shot him a glance. “It’s not that I can’t get used to them watching me. My grandpa keeps an eye on me too, and if I’m not behaving, he’ll smack me.”

“Yeah,” David Reed looked off into the distance, quickly starting to reminisce, but soon snapped out of it—probably remembering the painful times when Grandpa Bennett would discipline Eric Bennett and throw him in for good measure. He nodded vigorously. “Yeah, he hits pretty hard.”

“Is your rhinitis better?” Eric Bennett asked. “If not, I brought some nasal spray from over there. Take a bottle.”

“It’s better,” David Reed said, then paused. “Did I tell you about my rhinitis?”

“No need to say.” Eric Bennett replied.

David Reed looked at him for a while before asking, “Then how did you figure… oh wait, you said it’s not fortune-telling, so how did you guess?”

Eric Bennett looked at him too, but didn’t answer.

“Oh,” David Reed, having grown up with him, caught on quickly. He rubbed his nose. “Was it because I blew my nose so much I got a sore, and it hasn’t healed… wait? It’s healed!”

Eric Bennett curled his lips in a slight smile and ignored him, stretching his arms in a lazy stretch. “Come on, come on, my grandma’s making dumplings today.”

“Tell me! Come on, tell me!” David Reed wouldn’t give up. Even after Eric Bennett refused to answer, he kept muttering his own analysis. “How did you figure it out? I didn’t bring tissues today, and I don’t sound nasal… what other clues…”

Eric Bennett’s good mood was ruined by his dad’s car parked downstairs.

Although not completely ruined, it was still a big damper. Maybe because the college entrance exam was coming up, his dad didn’t even wait three days before coming after him.

“You’re back—” Grandma called from the kitchen as they opened the door.

“I’m back—” Eric Bennett replied.

“Pengpeng’s here too?” Grandma called again.

“Hello, Grandma—” David Reed answered.

“Dad.” Eric Bennett saw his dad sitting on the sofa, flipping through a book.

“Mm,” Dad glanced at him and shook the book in his hand. “You’re reading this?”

“No.” Eric Bennett denied instinctively.

Dad was holding a book on palmistry, which he’d bought for three yuan at a used book stall in first grade to make up for Grandma’s lack of fortune-telling skills. He’d kept it all these years, pulling it out to read from time to time.

“I brought it over yesterday,” David Reed quickly jumped in, saving Eric Bennett from trouble. “I wanted Grandma to help me figure something out.”

“Grandma doesn’t read palms for people,” Dad glanced at him. “You’re interested in this stuff now?”

“Live and learn, right?” David Reed said.

Dad smiled without much expression and didn’t say anything else. Eric Bennett couldn’t think of anything to say either, so he went into the kitchen.

Grandpa wasn’t back from his walk yet, Second Aunt was watering Grandma’s flowers on the balcony, and Grandma was in the kitchen. The living room was basically an awkward prison.

“If you’d told me your dad was here,” David Reed squeezed into the kitchen after him and whispered, “I wouldn’t have come.”

“I didn’t know he was coming.” Eric Bennett helped Grandma scoop the washed vegetables into the basket and asked, “When did he get here? What’s he doing?”

“He came to drag you back,” Grandma said. “You didn’t tell me you snuck out on your own.”

“I’m already grown up,” Eric Bennett said. “They didn’t watch me in elementary school, and now I’m almost old enough to get married, suddenly they want to keep an eye on me.”

“That’s not really fair,” David Reed said. “They started keeping an eye on you years before you could get married. It just never really worked.”

Eric Bennett didn’t reply, leaning back against the wall. “Stop talking nonsense. If you’re going to help, then help. Can’t you see what needs to be done?”

“Damn.” David Reed shot him a look.

“Chop the filling.” Grandma handed over a kitchen knife and slapped it onto the cutting board, the blade sinking in half an inch.

David Reed pulled out the knife and got to work.