The ultimate blue sea

Chapter 2-A Frightening One-Night Stand

The next morning, Su Qing woke up to the sound of the person sharing his bed getting up and dressing. He opened his eyes and saw the hotel's dismal white ceiling. He stared blankly at it for fully half a minute before he remembered where he was.

He was sober, and his head hurt. His temples were pounding like a drum. He thought disdainfully of what he had been getting up to while turning his head uneasily—preparing to close his eyes and pass out in case he saw a Laughing Buddha or a gorilla.

The man was buttoning up his shirt with his back to him. His shoulders were broad, his back was straight, and his skin was a little dark—not the baked color that came from sunbathing; it looked instead like the genuine outcome of being weathered by the elements year round. The man was alerted by Su Qing's slight turn of the head and looked back at him. There was an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Then, unperturbed, he stood up, took the cigarette between the fingers of one hand and picked his pants up off the floor with the other. He said, "Oh, you're awake."

Su Qing pressed down on his forehead. He was feeling embarrassed.

When the man picked up his pants, a long scar was revealed on the outside of his thigh. Su Qing couldn't help taking another look. He saw a portion of the man's waist exposed by his shirttails. The firm muscles there were also covered with scars of all sizes.

The man buckled his belt in a trice. He was around thirty, with strong features and deep-set eyes. His gaze was faintly cold, with a hint of scrutiny. Seeing that Su Qing was looking him over, the man didn't react. He grabbed his hair casually, smoothed down the places that were sticking up, and said, "You getting up? If you are, get dressed. I'll buy you breakfast." 

Su Qing nodded woodenly, and the man went to wash up without saying a word. He was very swift. Su Qing had only stuck one leg into his pants by the time the man put himself in order and came out. The two of them stared at each other in silence. Su Qing suddenly felt like a kid caught cheating on a test by the teacher. He quickly stuffed himself into his clothes and jumped out of bed. If he hadn't still been dizzy, he practically would have stood at attention.

The man looked at him and got out of his way. Su Qing vanished into the bathroom.

He splashed a double handful of water on his face and zoned out looking at himself in the mirror—the young man in the mirror looked sickly pale and dead-eyed, with a desolate expression. With this venerable countenance, if someone said he hadn't been dumped, that would have been strange.

Su Qing took a deep breath and buried his whole face in cold water, imagining that he was a fish. The cold water cleared his head somewhat. His rusty brain began to operate. He thought, What happens now? What am I going to do?

Life was too complicated. Before, there had been people to spoil him and let him squander his youth as he pleased. Now all the people who had spoiled him were gone, so he was lost.

The fish surnamed Su blew bubbles, feeling that his prospects were dim. But this lost mood was brief. Soon he could no longer hold his breath. He had to raise his head, scrub his face, hastily put himself in order, and go out.

Then he stood at the bathroom door, not knowing whether he ought to deliver a report or what. He stood there stupidly, waiting for the man to speak.

The man was sitting on the bed flipping through one of the hotel's old magazines. The cigarette in his mouth remained unlit. It was as though he didn't know how to relax. Sitting there casually, his back stuck up like a spear.

Was he military?

All of a sudden, Su Qing couldn't help also standing up straight, as though he felt a sense of inferiority about his own slovenly appearance.