It's actually quite challenging to write a story just from a title.

Empty words come back to haunt you. At nine in the evening, Liu Xiaomei sent a text: dance class at four thirty tomorrow afternoon.

Just a single, concise message, and Zhang Pa felt his hips ache immediately. Taking advantage of the quiet streets, he hurriedly stretched his waist, arms, and legs.

Whatever you choose to learn, it always consumes a great deal of time. As a result, you can't help but be busy whether you wish to or not.

Returning home that evening, yet another thing demanded his attention.

The neighbors were rowdy as ever. It took him a while to realize what was happening: Wu Lao-san was hosting a barbecue that night. Five girls joined in, drinking generously, and when they got home, sleep was out of the question; the commotion continued unabated.

The noise made it impossible for Zhang Pa to rest, so he turned on his computer and went online, where he received some good news.

An editor had left a message, asking him to organize his articles according to submission guidelines, and said they’d try pitching it to a publisher.

He had no idea what the outcome would be, but it was something positive nonetheless. Following the format sent by the editor, Zhang Pa began to arrange his past writings.

They required detailed information about the author, an outline, a synopsis, and the main text itself.

Just the synopsis alone took a great deal of time—Zhang Pa wanted to make it as good as possible. He didn’t finish that night, writing until he was exhausted.

He got up the next morning and continued revising his manuscript, hoping for publication. Only once published could he consider himself a true writer.

He worked on this through the morning, but around ten, noises drifted in from next door. Soon, unmistakable slapping sounds and a woman’s shrieks filled the air.

Zhang Pa was baffled. Weren’t there five women living there? How could they make such a racket?

He stepped outside to investigate. Sure enough, they were quite uninhibited—the door was halfway open. He crept closer for a look and saw Wu Lao-san with someone, engaged in vigorous exercise. The other girls weren’t in the room.

Sighing, he went downstairs and sat on the steps outside, just in time to see Wang Baihe and Sun Yi returning. He got up to meet them. “Wu Lao-san’s rent.” He handed over five hundred yuan.

Wang Baihe accepted the money and thanked him before going inside with Sun Yi. But soon after, she came out again, brows furrowed, and asked Zhang Pa, “Who’s upstairs?”

“Wu Lao-san,” he replied.

Wang Baihe’s frown deepened. She cursed, turned on her heel, and went back inside. The television volume rose, the sound drifting easily out the window.

Zhang Pa was stunned. Did Wang Baihe just swear?

He thought it over, then went to the Fat Man’s place to see the big dogs.

The Fat Man lived on the second floor with the two big dogs. When Zhang Pa entered, the Fat Man looked greatly relieved. “Thank goodness you’re here—take over for me. I need some sleep.”

“Is it really that exhausting?” Zhang Pa asked.

“Absolutely,” the Fat Man replied as he climbed into bed.

Zhang Pa patted each of the big dogs and casually asked, “Have they eaten?”

“They have. I bought them gourmet dog food myself,” said the Fat Man. “Remember to reimburse me.”

Zhang Pa considered this. “Isn’t this just your excuse to get out of cleaning your place?”

“They don’t need me. Ladyboy, Wu Gui, and Da Zhuang are all there. With that many people, how could they not manage a little cleaning?” the Fat Man retorted. Then, “Don’t bother me—I need my sleep.”

Zhang Pa said, “If I told you something, I bet you’d be wide awake.”

The Fat Man didn’t answer.

“Wu Lao-san’s in bed with a woman,” Zhang Pa said.

The Fat Man shot up, furious. “That bastard! Always corrupting women, turning good ones bad, and then bad women ruin good men. In the end, they go home and marry some honest guy. Dammit, how could men like me not get the short end of the stick?”

“You’re honest?” Zhang Pa asked.

“Of course! Fights are fights, but when it comes to matters of the heart, I’m noble and pure,” the Fat Man insisted.

“Isn’t it more because you’re fat, ugly, unemployed, and can’t find anyone, so you’re forced to be pure?” Zhang Pa countered.

“Nonsense! That’s slander. Even if I can’t find a girlfriend, I could always hire a prostitute, couldn’t I?” the Fat Man shot back.

Zhang Pa grunted, saying nothing.

The Fat Man was still fuming. “No idea where he found those five girls—probably more out there. Gather them up and take them out of town. That bastard just leeches off women and feels no shame.”

“It’s their own choice to fall. Why get so worked up?” Zhang Pa said.

“Their own choice…” The Fat Man seemed somewhat dejected.

“If it’s not your business, don’t get involved,” Zhang Pa went on. “Everyone walks their own path in life. Once you’re an adult, if you choose the wrong road, you deserve whatever comes your way. No need to care so much.”

“Easy for you to say,” the Fat Man replied. “How could I not care? Don’t you know there are more men than women? It’s already hard enough to find someone. A whole bunch of women go into the sex trade, even more become lesbians, and those left are all proud and picky. How can someone like me ever find a match?”

“Have faith. Even a blind cat catches a dead mouse sometimes,” Zhang Pa consoled.

The Fat Man became even more depressed. “Is that supposed to comfort me?” As he finished, his phone rang. It was Qian Cheng, the only doctor in Xingfuli.

Qian Cheng said he’d been discharged from the hospital and was hosting a lunch at a restaurant, inviting everyone—one table would suffice.

The Fat Man replied, “That’s easy. For other things, you couldn’t find a soul, but for food and drink, these rascals would crawl there if they had to.”

So the invitations went out, and soon a group assembled to feast.

The restaurant was the best in Xingfuli, with a large private room. Inside sat a man and a woman: Qian Cheng and Yu Xiaoxiao.

Everyone eyed the pair curiously. Zhang Pa approached and asked, “Are you two together?”

“Shut up,” Yu Xiaoxiao snapped. “You can leave now.”

Zhang Pa sat beside her. “It’s just because I didn’t give you directions—why hold a grudge?”

Yu Xiaoxiao turned to Qian Cheng. “Your friend is no good at all.”

Qian Cheng laughed. “He’s all right.”

Zhang Pa pressed again, “So, are you officially together?”

“Nonsense!” Yu Xiaoxiao blurted.

Qian Cheng explained, “I was discharged, and Yu Xiaoxiao insisted on celebrating with a meal.”

The Fat Man asked, “Did you sort out that incident?”

“It’s nothing special. Medical disputes are all the same,” Qian Cheng replied.

Yu Xiaoxiao was tall, beautiful, and looked quite well-off. Qian Cheng, on the other hand, was plain, just an ordinary fellow. Ladyboy was curious about their relationship and asked, “How did you two meet?”

Qian Cheng replied, “We just met—what more is there?”

Yu Xiaoxiao explained, “My grandmother fell ill in the street, and Dr. Qian saved her. He was also her attending physician at the hospital. I wanted to thank him, but Dr. Qian refused everything, so all I could do was treat everyone to a meal as a token of gratitude.”

So that was the story. Zhang Pa shook his head. “I thought so. You probably don’t fancy Xiao Qian.”

Qian Cheng was annoyed. “What’s that supposed to mean? Who invited you? Pay the bill and leave.”

Yu Xiaoxiao said, “I knew he was the worst—let’s just cut ties with him.”

The Fat Man and the others piled on. “Right, cut him off! We’re all decent people—can’t have trash like you among us. Must sever ties.”

Zhang Pa shouted, “Don’t force me to strip you all naked!”

“Are you trying to be a pervert?” the Fat Man bellowed.

Just then, a waiter entered to ask if they were ready for food.

The answer was yes. Dishes arrived in a steady stream, and everyone ate and drank heartily.

The meal served its purpose. Yu Xiaoxiao fulfilled her desire to show gratitude, and Qian Cheng ensured he wouldn’t be further entangled by her.

Qian Cheng was clear-eyed about his situation. No matter what, Yu Xiaoxiao would never fall for him. Not to mention family background—just in terms of height and looks, the gap was far too great. Add to that their upbringings, interests, and so forth—they were worlds apart.

Yu Xiaoxiao treated them out of conscience.

The meal lasted an hour and a half. Afterward, Yu Xiaoxiao drove away, and Qian Cheng and the others walked home.

On the way back, Ladyboy asked Qian Cheng, “Any chance with her?”

“She left so decisively—what do you think?” Qian Cheng replied.

“Guess not. Then I’ll go after her,” Ladyboy declared.

Zhang Pa laughed, “Go ahead—if you don’t, I’ll look down on you.”

The Fat Man chimed in, “If you win her over, I’ll give you a two-thousand-yuan red envelope.”

“Don’t push me—I’m known as the Heartbreaker in these parts…” Ladyboy began, but halfway through, a police car approached from behind.

Zhang Pa started and bolted. The Fat Man followed.

The police weren’t after the dogs; there were two squad cars, five or six officers, heading for Er Kui’s house.

That’s how it was in Xingfuli—many people had nicknames with numbers: Liuzi, Zhu San, Zhang Lao-si…

And the crime rate here was sky-high. More people had gone to prison than had attended elite high schools—let alone the unattainable dream of university.

Er Kui had done time many times; his last stint was for drug trafficking and fleeing the law.

The police had gotten word that Er Kui was back, so they came to arrest him.

Not only had Er Kui sold drugs, he also trafficked them, and even used himself. Even among the scoundrels of Xingfuli, because of his addiction, most people avoided him.

Scoundrels had their own code—some things were off-limits.

Drugs were too dangerous to handle. For other crimes—if the Fat Man was in trouble, the neighbors would cover for him. But for drugs, just not turning you in was already doing you a favor.

This time, Er Kui must have been reported by a neighbor.

But they didn’t find him. The police searched for nearly an hour in vain. Only after they left did everyone learn what had happened.

Wu Gui had a grudge with Er Kui. Er Kui, broke from his habit, had once targeted the mahjong parlor, and twice demanded money at the door.

Some things were very real. In Xingfuli, several people had dabbled in drugs, and the two unluckiest even contracted AIDS. Life changed utterly for them—they were young, but the neighborhood arranged welfare for them, giving them free money every month.

Whenever they were out of cash during holidays, they’d go to the office for more; the staff could only give them a few hundred yuan to send them away.

They had to—those two carried needles, and for a few hundred yuan, was it worth risking a stab?

Those two caused trouble for more than two years, but because they had AIDS, the police never arrested them—how could they process them, and what if someone got infected?

It only settled down after they died. One succumbed to illness, the other was stabbed to death.

No one mourned such people. Even though they died violently, their families didn’t care, never appearing once. The police were pragmatic too: after waiting a week, they cremated the bodies and didn’t bother looking for the killer.

Er Kui was still alive—lucky, in a way. Unlucky, because without that disease, the police would come after him.