Under Clear Skies Chapter 17: Weirdo

Chapter 17: Weirdo

Translated by Fefe of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Addis

Jiang Ya was shocked. “Tang Heng, what’s wrong with you?” An Yun reacted just then and grabbed Tian Xiaoqin. “Run!” When she was already five meters away, she yelled, “Jiang Ya! Guitar!!!”

Jiang Ya: “…Fuck!”

The group split into three. An Yun, Tian Xiaoqin and that tall dude was at the front; Tang Heng and Jiang Ya followed close behind. The people from A-Zhu Band started running too, while yelling “Fucking stop!” They’d come prepared, while Tang Heng was still carrying his guitar. They caught up after running close to 20 meters.

“Xiaoqin, you guys call the cops!” An Yun stopped running and cursed in Wuhan dialect, “I’ll kill you sons of bitches!” Tian Xiaoqin was scared silly and stood without moving. “An Yun…” At that moment, the guy pushed her aside and said in a low voice, “Run. Don’t worry about us.”

On the other side, Tang Heng and Jiang Ya were already surrounded. The alley was narrow. The wall was on one side; the other side was people. They had nowhere to run to. The fatty leader rolled his wrists and said with a laugh, “I thought you guys were better than this, huh. What did you just say? Guitar?”

Jiang Ya plastered a smile on his face. “Bro, how ’bout this? We’ll get a drink, my treat! We’re not a gang or anything, so there’s no need to make it so—”

“Yes, yes.” Still smiling, the fatty said sinisterly, “But a drink isn’t necessary.”

“Then…”

“That guitar you have. Smash it.” He looked at Tang Heng. “Smash it and this’ll be settled.”

“His guitar is cheap!” Jiang Ya jutted his chin towards An Yun. “Lao An’s bass is expensive. How ’bout we smash the bass?”

“Guitar.”

The next second, An Yun lifted her bass and smashed it down at one of the guys with bleached hair. Jiang Ya charged at the same time, kicking the fatty’s thigh. The fatty fell to the ground and scrambled up, yelling, “Kill them!!!”

A chaotic fight erupted. An Yun had practiced Muay Thai for two years. She wasn’t as strong as the guys, but she was very agile. Jiang Ya had practiced taekwondo since he was a kid, so he wasn’t losing the fight either. Only Tang Heng had to keep dodging. He took some punches, but he never fought back.

He had to protect the guitar on his back.

 

An Yun fought with Bleached Hair. Jiang Ya fought two against one. Meanwhile, Fatty and Baldy surrounded Tang Heng, attacking him like someone teasing a cat, as if tormenting him was fun. “I’ll give you another chance,” Fatty said. “How about this? Kneel down for me and we’ll be settled.”

“Kneel down my ass,” Tang Heng said.

“Then don’t blame us!” Fatty and Baldy attacked at once. Tang Heng dodged his punch but got hit by Baldy’s stick on his shoulder and stumbled. Half of his arm went numb.

Baldy tapped the stick. “If you won’t smash it, then we’ll help you.” He lifted the stick and brought it down towards the guitar on Tang Heng’s back! Tang Heng hurried back. With a thud, his guitar hit the wall.

There was only one thought in his mind: his guitar probably won’t survive the night.

 

At that moment, someone darted out of the shadows and blocked Tang Heng. His back was to Tang Heng and he could only see that the guy was quite tall. Tang Heng realized it was the guy who’d come with Tian Xiaoqin.

Fatty lifted a beer bottle. “None of your business. Fuck off.”

The guy stood there without moving or saying anything.   

“Fuck!” Baldy brought his stick up, but the guy still didn’t budge. He took the hit squarely and Badly froze for a second. In that second, the guy grabbed the stick. He shook fiercely and pulled. Badly let go.

“Run!” the guy exclaimed in a low voice.

Tang Heng snapped out of his thoughts and sprinted away. Fatty wanted to chase after him, but he was stopped by that guy again.

 

Ten minutes later, the security guards from the school arrived on their mopeds.

Four of the five had escaped. Only Fatty was left—he couldn’t escape because of his weight—and was pinned down by Jiang Ya. An Yun’s cheek was swollen and Jiang Ya had a scraped elbow. Tang Heng panted for breath. “Where’s that guy?”

An Yun: “Who?”

“That guy who came with your classmate. He—”

“What department are you from?” The security guard studied them. “Call the cops. Call your advisor too.”

“Why our advisors?” An Yun wailed. “We’re the ones who got beaten up!”

The security guard looked at Fatty on the ground. “You guys, got beaten up?”

“They had five people in the beginning!” Jiang Ya looked aghast. “Four of them ran away! Ask him if you don’t trust us!”

“But we can’t do anything if you get into conflicts with people outside the school.”

“Whatever.” An Yun waved. “We’re not from Hanyang Uni either.”

The security guard didn’t understand. “Why did you call us if you’re not from Hanyang Uni?”

“You’re close by!” An Yun said. “We’re from Wuhan Tech.”

“Then, let him go and don’t get into more fights.” The security sighed. “Our school is right next-door… At least find somewhere else to fight.”

“No problem.” Jiang Ya loosened his iron clench on Fatty. “Scram.”

Fatty disappeared in a flash.

 

The security guards left as well. Only Tang Heng, Jiang Ya and An Yun remained. The three looked at each other in silence.

“Actually, I feel like they didn’t want to really fight,” An Yun said. “At least, that bleached hair guy didn’t fight too hard.”

Jiang Ya nodded. “The two fighting me were okay too… That fatty got it easy, fuck.”

“Where’s that guy?” Tang Heng’s expression was dark. “You guys didn’t see him?”

“How’d we have time to do that?” Jiang Ya yelled. “Can’t you worry about your dear An and dear Ya?”

“He’s hurt—”   

“I’m here,” a male voice came from behind him.

The tone was very calm.

Tang Heng turned and saw someone walk out from the corner a few meters away. His posture looked awkward. Tang Heng ran over and asked anxiously, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He paused. “Gotta visit the clinic.”

The alley was too dark and the streetlamp was too far away. Tang Heng couldn’t see his face clearly at all. He could only smell the blood.

“Where are you hurt?” Tang Heng’s voice trembled.

The guy said, “My back.”

Tang Heng walked to his back and lifted his phone—thank god Nokias are sturdy—and looked at his back.

The blue t-shirt was soaked with blood, plastered against his back. Some bloodstains snaked down to the cuffs of his jeans.

Tang Heng suddenly realized that the guy’s posture was awkward because he was hunched over.

“I’ll call the ambulance,” Tang Heng said hoarsely.

“No need.” The guy pushed his hand down. “There’s a clinic up ahead.”

“How can you go to a clinic like this?!”

“None of your business.”

Tang Heng cursed under his breath. All he could say was, “I’ll carry you over.”

“I’ll go alone.” The guy lowered his voice. “If the school investigates, don’t say I was here.”  

Tang Heng froze. He suddenly realized that this guy had hidden purposely when the security guards came over?

But for what?

“You guys were fighting off campus,” the guy emphasized. “Nothing to do with me.”

Tang Heng couldn’t reply at all. Jiang Ya and An Yun came over at that moment and were shocked too. “Hurry and go to 627!” No. 627 Hospital was on Luoyu Road—very close.

But the guy didn’t say anything and walked forward.

“What’s going on?” Jiang Ya asked.

Tang Heng was silent for two seconds. Then he shoved his guitar at Jiang Ya. “Hold it for me!” And then he ran over.

 

The two walked shoulder-to-shoulder. When they passed by the site of the scuffle, Tang Heng saw shiny things on the ground. He kicked them and realized they were glass shards. A few more steps and he saw the neck of the broken bottle.

“They used this to… hit you?”

The guy didn’t answer, as if admitting with silence. Tang Heng clenched his teeth and asked, “Who did it? The fat one or the bald guy?”   

The other still didn’t answer. It was like he was mute.

“I’m asking you,” Tang Heng said with irritation.

“Be quiet.” He finally spoke. “It hurts.”

Tang Heng fell silent. He followed the guy, taking turn after turn in the alleys, and finally saw a clinic. The guy seemed very familiar with this area.

 

Tang Heng followed him in. In all of his 21 years of living, it was his first time entering a clinic like this. The plastic curtains on the door were yellow gray—no clue if they turned into this color over time or they’d always been like this. There was only an old woman getting an IV drip at this hour. The doctor sat before the TV, holding a bowl of Wuhan hot dry noodles. His white coat was open, revealing a round beer belly. When he saw the two, he greeted them lazily, “Just a sec. Lemme finish this.”

“He has blood loss!” Tang Heng cried anxiously. “Check him!”

“Oh, now you’re worried?” The doctor glanced at him. “Where were you during the fight?”

“…”

“It’s alright,” the one beside him said.

Hearing his voice, Tang Heng suddenly realized that he hadn’t seen his face yet. So he turned and looked. His gaze tilted up and a very pathetic face appeared in his vision—sweat, blood and dust mixed together on his cheeks. They’d dried, leaving behind dark red prints. His skin was wheat-colored. As Tang Heng looked on, the prints suddenly transformed, emanating an aura that demanded reverence, like some ancient totem. Had he stepped out of a book? It felt too dramatic—but which book?

Tang Heng was immersed in what he was seeing, when the other suddenly turned around. Their eyes met. He had a pair of pitch-black pupils—so cleanly black.

He remembered now. It was Claude Lévi-Strauss’ Tristes Tropiques.

The guy didn’t say anything, but his eyes were asking, What do you want?

“Is Tian Xiaoqin your girlfriend?” Tang Heng blurted out.

“No.”

“…Oh.”

He replied so easily, as if not caring why Tang Heng asked. It made sense. He didn’t even care about his injuries. Weirdo.

 

The doctor finally set his bowl down and walked over. Glancing at his back, he said, “This is troublesome, eh. Go to the hospital. I don’t have anesthesia here.”

“No need.”

“Aiya, it’ll hurt bad.”

“I’ll do it here.” He paused. “The hospital’s too expensive.”

Too expensive? Expensive? Tang Heng couldn’t process this. How expensive could it be? He had a private family doctor, so he’d never gone to the hospital before.

 

The doctor sighed. “Then, hold on.”