Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Sick Leave

Wang Fuqiang stepped onto the subway.

It was the tail end of the morning rush. The car was packed, but that was fine—he was sure he’d get a seat.

The moment he boarded he craned his neck, scanning for a place to sit.

On the left: a few young punks, an old woman, two middle-aged men—losers by the look of them, broke and beaten, dejection written across their faces.

There was also some weird guy cradling a mortar, setting it on his knees and tamping at it, thump, thump.

The mortar was clearly empty. The guy didn’t look right in the head.

Even the crazies were out riding the subway.

To the right…

Wang Fuqiang’s eyes lit up. He shouldered through the crowd and headed straight that way.

He stopped in front of a fresh-faced girl.

She was bent over her phone and didn’t react. He waited a bit; when she didn’t look up or make any move to give up her seat, he cleared his throat—twice—for emphasis.

She pretended not to hear and kept scrolling.

That was too much for Wang Fuqiang.

“Hey, little miss—don’t you have an ounce of manners?”

“You’re young and all you can do is stare at your phone? You see an old man and you don’t give up your seat?”

Only then did she lift her head, surprised, and look at him.

“What are you staring at? Hurry up and give your seat to an old man!”

He pitched his voice loud, making sure everyone heard. “Aren’t you ashamed? Hair white as snow, an old man like me is standing here struggling, and you pretend to be so absorbed in your phone you can’t even see me?”

At his scolding, color rose in the girl’s cheeks.

People around them turned to look.

Stung and angry, she said, “What are you talking about? When did I pretend? I honestly didn’t see you!”

“Then get up! Give me the seat!”

His patience snapped. He jabbed a finger at her nose and lectured, “Out in public, young people should respect their elders and care for the young. Didn’t your parents teach you that at home?”

Her eyes went red. “I do respect my elders. I would give up my seat—but not to you!”

“Why?”

“No reason!”

That did it—Wang Fuqiang’s temper flared.

He snatched up his cane and jabbed at her thigh. “How can a little girl be so unreasonable, shouting at an elder? Is that any way to behave? Did your parents never teach you any manners?”

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed, batting away the cane as it prodded toward her inner thigh. “Don’t you dare insult my parents! Who are you to talk about my parents!”

Voices rose all around them.

“Hey, talk if you want, but keep your hands to yourself!”

“She’s a girl—put the cane down! What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re the one out of line! You’re picking on her because she’s small and looks easy to bully! Why don’t you ask those big guys across the aisle to give you a seat?”

Someone even raised a phone, recording him while pointing and muttering.

“Fine! Young people these days…” Wang Fuqiang’s eyes bulged as he glared at the crowd. He lifted his cane, ready to lash out—when something suddenly jabbed him in the small of the back.

“Ow!” he yelped, clutching his waist.

He spun around, furious. “Who? Who was that? Who hit me?”

Before the words were out, he saw a young man in a suit standing there, face blank.

A mortar in his left hand, a stone pestle in his right.

No sooner had Wang Fuqiang registered what he was holding than the stone pestle drove into his chest again.

Jab. Jab-jab-jab.

“Ow! Ow!”

The pestle drove into Wang Fuqiang’s sternum so hard he couldn’t even stand up straight. He dodged and hollered, “Help! Somebody, help! They’re beating an old man! Is there no justice left? Bullying an elder in broad daylight!”

Everyone around froze.

No one had expected a young man to pop out of nowhere, pestle in hand, stabbing at the old guy, jab after jab…

Wait—why a pestle? Where did that even come from!

Oh—part of the mortar-and-pestle set he was carrying…

But why is there a mortar on the subway? How’d that thing get past security???

Then again, maybe it could…?

While everyone was still flummoxed, the young man in the suit wore a blank look. However loudly Wang Fuqiang cursed and yelled, he didn’t budge.

He just kept jabbing.

Jab, jab, jab.

Chest, then the solar plexus. Throat, then the belly.

Wang Fuqiang yelped with each stab, clutching one spot only to take a hit somewhere else; insults forgotten, he threw his arms over his head and scrambled to dodge.

That dodge—perfect—turned him right around.

The young man seized the moment and drove another jab straight into his spine.

“Aaagh!” Wang Fuqiang sprang up like a prawn seized by a cramp.

With that vertical, he could’ve pulled off a slam dunk.

And so it went: one dodging, one jabbing.

The old and the young chased and scuffled their way out of the car.

Remarkably spry.

Everyone stared, stupefied.

What—what even was that?

The farce moved into the next car, setting off a fresh round of shrieks over there.

Phones went up, filming this once-in-a-lifetime spectacle.

Some thought the young man was bullying a senior and, unable to stand it, moved to intervene.

Veteran witnesses from the first car saw trouble brewing and rushed over to stop the would-be stoppers, thrusting their video evidence at them.

The onlookers in the next car: “??”

They still didn’t know the whole story, but…

Good jab!

…

Half an hour later, at the police station.

The shameless old bastard actually played the victim first, grabbing and tugging, insisting on hauling him to the station. Lin Jianyuan wasn’t the least bit afraid.

What surprised him was that several passengers from their car volunteered to come along as witnesses.

Including the girl he’d harassed at the start.

Her eyes were rimmed red with anger as she pointed at the old man and reconstructed what had happened, shaking all over at the memory.

Other passengers produced their videos and said Lin Jianyuan had stepped in to right a wrong.

If he hadn’t, that cane would’ve come down on the girl’s head.

Even with eyewitnesses and footage, it was still a fact that Lin Jianyuan had used force.

The old coot kept blustering about pressing charges and getting Lin Jianyuan locked up, but the officers urged mediation.

For a simple reason.

Because Lin Jianyuan was mentally ill!

Old man: If he is mentally ill, how is he still running around?

Officer: He took the wrong meds, so he was on his way to the hospital to get treated!

Old man: …

The logic looped neatly shut—unassailable.

In the end, he could only curse under his breath and accept mediation.

Lin Jianyuan walked out of the station without a scratch.

Outside, the girl thanked him up and down, asked for his WeChat, wanting to buy him dinner to properly say thanks.

Lin Jianyuan: “No need. I wasn’t actually trying to help you.”

Girl: “Huh?”

Lin Jianyuan: “That old geezer pissed me off so much that if I didn’t do something, my lungs were going to explode!”

The girl froze for a beat, then snorted with laughter.

In the end, Lin Jianyuan never added her on WeChat; he was in a rush to see a doctor.

He finally made it to 700 Jiangchuan North Road, worried his appointment number had been skipped, only to find the waiting area packed; they hadn’t called him yet.

He found a seat and settled in. He’d just opened his phone to play a couple rounds of Candy Crush when a voice call from Pei Shuo popped up.

His stomach dropped. Don’t tell me there’s more drama.

Instead, the moment he answered, Pei Shuo crowed, “Bro! You’re trending!”

There was nothing but awe in his voice.

Lin Jianyuan: “…”

He dove into the trending list. Sure enough—subway incident.

Already? He was actually trending? It felt unreal.

Great. Now the whole world knew he was mentally ill.

Even more unreal than a talking squish toy.

As he put his phone away, another top tag caught his eye:

#Shi Shaoning turns dating show into madness show#

Shi Shaoning? Who.

Never heard of him. Must be some star.

He pocketed his phone and took out the squish toy again.

The snail-shaped toy wobbled its head, muttering: “Rainbow gastric juice is a perverted digestive system. The AC’s broken—ah, why is the AC broken again. You promised a long-term meal ticket—why are you sleeping hugging food. Filthy. Super perverted and filthy!”

Lin Jianyuan: “…”

What nonsense.

But the babble did remind him of something.

He called his landlord and argued for fifteen minutes.

Topic: fixing the AC.

He threatened him: repairs were in the lease. If it wasn’t fixed now, he’d make a fuss.

Worn down, the landlord promised to send someone today.

After hanging up, he thought of the trending tag and felt small.

What subway hero.

He had to wrangle half an hour just to get the AC fixed… Some hero.

The thought made him restless. He needed something to squeeze.

This time he didn’t take out the squish toy. He picked up the mortar and pestle.

One jab.

“Ah!”

Another.

“Ah-ah!”

Keep going.

“Aaaaah!”

—A little stone shrieked like a rubber chicken inside the mortar.

Lin Jianyuan wasn’t a sadist. He wasn’t doing it for the screams.

The stone just had a great trick.

One press and it split in two. Another and two halves became four.

Grind it to grit, leave it alone, and after a while the grit drew together into a stone again.

Oddly soothing.

He decided that while the squish toy was on sick leave, the little stone would be his stress proxy.

After a long wait, he finally saw Dr. Cen.

He described everything that had happened lately. Dr. Cen fell thoughtful.

“Is my condition getting worse?” Lin Jianyuan muttered. “Honestly, I’ve been happier than before. Seizing big and small, anytime, anywhere—less pressure, sleep’s better too… though that might be your meds. And the squish toy’s skip function was incredible, like a video game. Life with a skip key—god, it was bliss… Shame it’s broken now.”

He sighed and took out the toy. “Doctor, can you see what’s wrong with it? It looks crazier than me. My illness isn’t contagious, right?”

Dr. Cen glanced at the snail toy.

Before he could speak, Lin Jianyuan caught himself. “Oh—sorry. I forgot it’s also my hallucination. So the toy going nuts means I’m getting worse?”

“Not necessarily.” Dr. Cen squeezed it.

Squish.

“When did it first act up? What was happening then?”

“Nothing, I was trying to stretch time to get five more minutes of sleep… wait,”

Lin’s heart skipped. He remembered.

“No—it wasn’t then. The toy usually runs its mouth, brags nonstop, but after the day we saw that dazed guy, it went silent.”

It did go quiet sometimes—like when Lin Jianyuan was with his roommate.

But this time was different.

Before, once the roommate left, it perked right up.

This time it just broke.

“Should I find that guy? Maybe the toy flipped because of him. But why…”

He muttered, “What’s special about him… He did look odd, but what’s that to me…”

“Perhaps you felt he shared your affliction?” Dr. Cen ventured.

Lin Jianyuan froze, as if something inside had been poked. He nodded. “I think so. Yeah—put like that, it makes sense.”

The pale, vacant man—they’d crossed paths and Lin Jianyuan had known at a glance something was wrong.

Remembering him grimy all over, sleepwalking down the street, Lin Jianyuan shuddered.

He really was afraid he might end up like that.

So it was that buried fear that made the man stick in his mind?

“No,” Dr. Cen said firmly. “You won’t. You’re not the same.”

The certainty soothed him.

The doctor adjusted his dosage. Lin Jianyuan thanked him and was about to go when the doctor stopped him.

“Add me on WeChat.”

Lin Jianyuan turned, surprised. Dr. Cen had his phone out, QR code up.

“If you’re unsure about meds again, message me.”

“Okay, okay.” Lin Jianyuan was touched, scanned, and added him.

A good doctor, truly. Lin Jianyuan felt that while his life wasn’t great, his luck sometimes was.

He’d barely stepped out of the hospital when the office called: come back to work overtime.

Lin Jianyuan: “…”

Pause on the gratitude.

What the actual hell—does the company stop spinning if I’m gone for one day? I take a sick day and you drag me back mid-appointment? Are you even human? No wonder my mental illness keeps relapsing—it’s this damned job!!!

Let it all burn!!!

Burn it all to the ground!!!

Ski—

Skip failed.

Lin Jianyuan went back to work like a good boy.

Straight through till nine.

His ass was about to fuse with the chair.

The good news: no writhing blood threads came out to drain his life this time.

Because he’d connected all the strands together.

Closed circuits everywhere. No new branches could sprout and burrow into people.

When he finally finished, the city was lit up.

Pei Shuo got into the elevator with him. Just the two of them. He sighed. “Our company is really not okay. Bleeds people dry.”

Lin Jianyuan stared, then sighed deeper. “The fact you still don’t swear—your character really needs to deteriorate.”

Pei Shuo: “??”

He got it and doubled over laughing.

He biked home on his own ride, not a shared one—no more rush-hour scrambling.

They split at the subway entrance.

Watching him pedal off, bright as a freshman, Lin Jianyuan felt briefly back in college.

Youth is a gift.

Not like me—cured in the brine of office stench.

He shook his head, smiling, and boarded for home.

He’d seen this route a thousand times. His tired face stared back from the window.

Were his eye bags worse? He leaned closer to check—and a strange white shape slid into view.

A white figure drifted across an empty tennis court, swaying, unsteady.

That was—

Lin Jianyuan’s pupils tightened.

The train slowed and stopped.

Without a second thought, he grabbed his bag and shot out through the open doors.