Dogs are welcome.

It’s a small café.

There really are dogs—three mutts, each with a little tag around its neck: 流流, 浪浪, 狗狗.

But that’s not the point. The point is, every table in the shop is a single table with just one chair.

On the table, there’s a sign—Hi, single dog.

But the walls are plastered with overlapping photos, all of couples, sweet and lovey-dovey.

Edward Clark felt deeply wounded, didn’t even pet the dogs, and turned to leave.

His head throbbed with pain.

Edward Clark bought a box of painkillers at a pharmacy next to the small square. As he crossed the square, planning to buy a bottle of water at the supermarket across the street to take his medicine, he saw a chicken on the steps… Eric Bennett.

“What a coincidence?” Eric Bennett raised his left eyebrow.

Today, there was no scam assistant by Eric Bennett’s side, nor any fool walking into a trap—just him alone.

“Didn’t calculate whether I’d show up?” Edward Clark’s head still hurt, but he didn’t stop walking.

“Nope,” Eric Bennett looked at him, “If I had, I would’ve brought you a bottle of water.”

Edward Clark glanced at him and stopped walking.

“Headache?” Eric Bennett asked, a slight, somewhat smug smile at the corner of his mouth.

Edward Clark didn’t answer, just looked back in the direction he’d come from.

“I’ve got water here,” Eric Bennett pulled out a big glass bottle from behind him, “but I just drank from it…”

“Let me guess.” Edward Clark said.

“Hm?” Eric Bennett was taken aback.

“When I left last time, you saw me. At that time, I was probably heading home, which means I live…” he pointed behind Eric Bennett, “that way.”

Eric Bennett held the big glass bottle, saying nothing.

“But today I came from the opposite direction, and on the way I pressed my temples about three times—probably a headache, and a pretty bad one,” Edward Clark rubbed his temples again, “so I might go buy some painkillers. There’s only one pharmacy around the square… If you hadn’t seen me come by, you probably couldn’t have figured it out.”

Eric Bennett still didn’t speak, just looked at him.

“Actually, to be safe, it’d be better to ask if I have a headache first. After all, I could ask the pharmacist for a cup of water to take my medicine,” Edward Clark thought for a moment, “but bringing up the water first is more effective. If you’re wrong, you can fall back on the headache. Even if you’re wrong about the headache, it doesn’t matter—I don’t even know you.”

“Screw you.” Eric Bennett said.

“Did I guess right?” Edward Clark asked.

“You did.” Eric Bennett said.

“Water.” Edward Clark held out his hand.

Eric Bennett handed him the big glass bottle.

Chapter 4

That day, after Eric Bennett introduced himself, the other guy didn’t return the favor with his own name, but Eric Bennett couldn’t be bothered to ask now. He just watched as John took some painkillers from his pocket, popped them in his mouth, then picked up the glass bottle and took several big gulps.

“You’re not picky at all.” He took back the bottle that John handed over.

“This isn’t a water bottle, is it?” John wiped his mouth.

“Nope,” Eric Bennett unscrewed the cap and wiped the rim with a tissue, “it’s an old Nestlé Coffee-mate bottle. Might be older than me.”

John said nothing.

He looked up and saw that John’s expression was a bit off.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“If you’re so particular, why’d you let someone else drink your water?” John was speechless. “And if you’re going to wipe it, don’t do it right in front of me, okay?”

“I didn’t think you’d actually drink from it.” Eric Bennett said.

John held out his left hand.

“Not looking.” Eric Bennett slapped his hand away, but still glanced at his palm.

“The bottle.” John said.

Eric Bennett paused, recapped the bottle, and handed it back to him.

John unscrewed the cap, tilted his head back, and took two more big gulps, then set the bottle on the step beside him. “Can you tell me how you figured out I just broke up?”

“What, you can’t guess?” Eric Bennett glanced sideways at the bottle.

“Today’s was easy,” John said, “If I could guess everything, how would you make a living?”

“Exactly,” Eric Bennett tilted his head, “So how could I possibly tell you? I don’t even know your name.”

“Edward Clark.” John said.

“What?” Eric Bennett didn’t catch it.

“Edward Clark.” John repeated, pressing his temples.

“Edward?” Eric Bennett said, “Boundless as the great square.”

Edward Clark’s hand paused on his temple.

“Gentle breeze and bright moon” was one thing, since his name had that character, but to blurt out “boundless as the great square” was a bit out of character for a laid-back street hustler.

Stereotypes are no good. Edward Clark gave himself a one-second self-reflection, then nodded. “Yeah.”

Eric Bennett leaned against the step behind him and said nothing more.

Edward Clark’s head still hurt. At this point, whether it was going back to school or finding something to eat, he just couldn’t muster the energy.

And… maybe because Eric Bennett looked a bit like Brian Foster, he didn’t really want to leave right away.

So he sat down next to Eric Bennett, and together they watched the basketball hoop standing not far away.

It was still early; only two boys were shooting hoops for fun.

After a moment of silence, Edward Clark spoke first: “Do you come here often?”