Chapter Twenty-Three: Devouring

A lively party scene played out on the enormous projection screen. The large round table in the private dining room was buried beneath plates of every kind, the wooden grain only barely visible in the gaps between dishes. The table was a chaotic mess—empty bottles of liquor and soda crowded the edge of the lazy Susan, while platters piled high with bones, shrimp shells, and fish spines were wedged in the center. Chopsticks and bowls were scattered, their owners indistinguishable. The wooden chairs around the table were askew, with people slouched together in clusters, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Others stood, gripping their cups, faces flushed as they called out across the din.

Gradually, the background faded into a blur. The camera closed in, focusing on Liu Yu in a close-up.

The doctor propped his head on his hand, fingers tapping his mask, listening to the impatient chatter of his nails. His deep blue eyes shone with a heavy light.

...

Liu Yu was rather drunk, but he hadn’t forgotten his purpose. Leaning back in his chair, he clutched Brother Lu’s hand, murmuring with the aid of alcohol, “Brother Lu, I understand everything you said before. But I really can’t manage it. Truly. Just let me do it alone. We have to change the group, or I really can’t keep up.”

“Change, change! We’ll switch for you! Where’s the cola? Get some cola!” Brother Lu waved grandly.

Lin Xiaoyu, sipping her cola as if it were tea, caught the commotion. She fumbled among the bottles on the table, setting down two empties before finally finding one with a little left.

“Little Lin!” Brother Lu beckoned her over, then pointed at Liu Yu. “Pour some cola for Little Liu.”

“He still has wine in his cup. Pour it out first,” Lin Xiaoyu reminded Liu Yu.

Liu Yu shook his head emphatically and covered his cup, his other hand still gripping Brother Lu. “Brother Lu, I’m serious—it’s not about the cola. We need to change the group or the people, just—”

“I’ll pour for you!” Brother Lu took the cola bottle from Lin Xiaoyu.

“Little Liu! Boss Lu!” someone interjected from the side.

Liu Yu felt an arm moving toward him again. He tensed and hastily pulled back. In his distraction, he crushed his glass, the shards clattering into the bowls and chopsticks.

A clamor arose on the table.

Startled, Lin Xiaoyu quickly looked at Liu Yu.

He had gone pale.

“Careful,” Brother Lu cautioned.

Yu Guangchun slung an arm around Liu Yu’s shoulder. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing. He’s just drunk, right?” He looked up at Brother Lu. “Boss Lu, I’m about done, I should head home.”

Brother Lu, still gripping the cola bottle, turned to him in surprise. “Leaving already? Weren’t we going to karaoke later? And have supper?”

“No more for me, I’ll head back early.” Yu Guangchun waved it off, releasing Liu Yu.

Liu Yu pressed his left arm against his side, concealing the swelling tumor beneath the table.

Yu Guangchun continued, “My son has an exam tomorrow. I need to get home.”

Brother Lu nodded. “Alright. In that case...” His gaze swept the room, finally settling on Liu Yu.

Yu Guangchun followed his lead. “Little Liu, are you okay?”

Liu Yu didn’t know how to answer.

“Why don’t you take Little Liu home?” Brother Lu suggested.

“I’ll order you a car,” Lin Xiaoyu interjected.

“No need, no need. The subway’s close by. Little Liu, you’re taking the subway too, right?” Yu Guangchun asked.

Flustered, Liu Yu felt several eyes on him and nodded hastily, hoping to end the conversation.

“Then you two go together. Be careful on the way,” Brother Lu said, putting down the cola and patting Liu Yu’s shoulder. “You two have worked hard lately, especially you, Little Liu. You’re one of the family now. Relax, we’ll have plenty of time together in the future. Work well with Brother Yu. You’ll both get your bonuses! They’re all recorded—no need to wait for year-end, as soon as the mid-year accounts settle, you’ll get them! Keep up the good work!”

The last few words were addressed to the whole room. The drunken and the sober alike applauded and cheered.

Yu Guangchun, face flushed, clapped along, then pulled Liu Yu to his feet.

“Little Liu, let’s go. Your bag—” Before he could finish, Lin Xiaoyu had already fetched Liu Yu’s backpack from the coat rack. Yu Guangchun laughed, nudging Liu Yu forward as he and Lin Xiaoyu helped him put it on.

Liu Yu moved stiffly, as though truly drunk and out of it. His left arm dangled as usual, but when Yu Guangchun pulled him, the muscles spasmed slightly, as if unused to being touched.

“Let’s go!” Yu Guangchun draped an arm around Liu Yu’s shoulders and waved to the others in the room. “We’re heading out!”

“Yu, you’re running away already? Have another bottle with me!”

“Take care on the road!”

“Little Liu, get home and rest up.”

With these boisterous farewells in their ears, the two left the private room.

Even through the closed door, the noise inside was still audible.

Yu Guangchun, arm still around Liu Yu, led him out, through the main hall of Linjiang Hall. The waiters ushered them past other diners and out the restaurant doors, where the polite “Please visit again” finally faded behind them. At last, they were far from the clamor and the light.

It was as if the world had gone suddenly quiet. Even the occasional roar of cars down the street did not disturb them.

Yu Guangchun’s steps were unsteady; he peered at the sidewalk tiles, then kept walking, leaning on Liu Yu.

Only now did his drunkenness show.

His breath reeked of alcohol, just like Liu Yu’s. But where Liu Yu was silent, Yu Guangchun grew more talkative as he drank.

“Little Liu... You’ve worked hard. You did all the real work. I know it, Boss Lu knows it, everyone knows it... I just helped out. You’re the technical star!” Yu Guangchun gave a thumbs-up. “That position of Boss Lu’s will be yours one day. You have a bright future! And if you want to move to a better company, Boss Lu can get you in.”

Liu Yu said nothing, letting Yu Guangchun lean his weight on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. Our base salary’s the same, but the bonus is all yours. I haven’t had a bonus in years... ha...” Yu Guangchun laughed. “If it weren’t for this company, I’d have been fired long ago. But that’s life... Those with real skills don’t come to little companies like ours. And those who do, it’s because they like the easygoing atmosphere. Boss Lu used to work at a big corporation—now that was tough. When he first came here, his hair was white, like an old man, too busy to even dye it. But look at him now! Isn’t it great? Life’s easier, what’s wrong with that? What’s the point of making so much money if you burn yourself out?”

A car passed by, its headlights illuminating their figures and the office buildings beside them, casting strange shadows across the sidewalk before speeding away, plunging them back into the darkness.

Yu Guangchun squinted at the familiar buildings, then gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Not that I’m one to talk. If I didn’t care about money, I’d have gone back home ages ago. You know where I’m from? My hometown... my hometown...” He hiccuped. “My parents are still there. My wife’s from the same place; we met on a blind date. My parents run a little shop, hers drive trucks, haul cargo. We both went to college... College, yeah... It was different back then.”

He drooped his head, leaning on Liu Yu’s shoulder, mumbling, “Back in college, who knew what major to pick? We just filled in the forms at random, clueless. Computer science—always on the news, all the talk about high-tech industries, the future of technology. I liked playing games and used to sneak off to internet cafes and get whipped by my dad. So I picked computer science, thought I’d get to play games. Only in college did I realize what the major really was. I couldn’t manage it, just barely scraped through by rote memorization. Back then, the advice was to find a job first, then think about changing. It was hard enough to get a job, let alone switch! I just stumbled into it and stuck around... Can’t do anything else now. Got lucky, joined the company when it first started. Back then, none of us really understood computers or code...”

Liu Yu stopped walking, looking at Yu Guangchun.

But Yu Guangchun didn’t stop in time—he lurched sideways, stumbling into a flowerbed at the office entrance, clutching at the concrete before tumbling in.

He landed awkwardly but made no sound of pain, sprawling out on the cold cement, limbs splayed, exhaling a long, boozy sigh.

Liu Yu circled the flowerbed, gazing down at Yu Guangchun.

The flowers and grass in the bed swayed in the night breeze, and a two-meter-tall sapling cast a heavy shadow over them both.

Yu Guangchun grinned, “You really are lucky... You young people, and the generations after... You’re all so lucky. You have no idea how hard it was for us—not just physically, but inside, inside. We didn’t know anything, didn’t know what to do, whether it was right or wrong... Just muddled through, and a lifetime was gone before you knew it. Dreams? Careers? We just wanted to get by, one day at a time... People said buy a house, so we bought one; go to a big city, so we did. After decades of paying the mortgage, we realized we didn’t like it here. Home was always better...”

“Yu, you’re drunk,” Liu Yu said, reaching out to help him up.

“I’ve always known I’m not cut out for this line of work. I never was. But I stumbled into it, what could I do? For years, I’ve thought of going home. My parents’ little shop—I did my homework under the counter as a kid. Stocking shelves, ordering goods, serving customers, keeping the books—I’ve done it all. Just a couple years ago, I set them up with mobile payments. Group buying, delivery, unmanned supermarkets—none of that matters to them. They’re happy with mobile payments. My mother-in-law too. Big warehouses, unified supply—nonsense!” Yu Guangchun waved his hand and sighed heavily.

Liu Yu crouched, trying to pull him up. “Yu...”

“I’ll tell you, Little Liu. Decades ago, my parents opened that little shop—it was the only one of its kind. I studied computer science; back in those days, even now, it was forward-thinking. But so what? Decades pass in a blink, and now we’re outdated, eliminated, done for. Life is only a few decades, isn’t it?” Yu Guangchun grabbed Liu Yu’s hand. “At their age, must they keep learning new things? They just want to earn a bit for retirement, enough for their meals—why work so hard?”

“You’re right,” Liu Yu soothed him.

“I’m different,” Yu Guangchun said suddenly, patting his chest. “I’m different... I have a wife, a son, and a mortgage. My son’s only in high school, with the university entrance exams ahead. I’ve long wanted to go home, just run that little shop, earn enough to eat. If I were alone, I’d have gone already. But my son’s here—he’s lucky, born in a big city. The school in my hometown, compared to here—” He shook his hand vigorously.

“I understand, Yu,” Liu Yu said, tugging at his arm to help him up.

But Yu Guangchun seemed glued to the ground, his arm stretching but his body unmoving.

“He’s taking the entrance exams this year. He does well in school—he’s lucky. You young people, now, with the internet and all that information. He knew what he wanted by middle school. He tried to explain it to me, but I didn’t get it. He joined competitions in junior high—I can’t even say what competitions, but competitions. He was a top student. The school offered him a place, but he refused; he wanted to apply to the school he liked. In high school, he even attended classes at that other school, with a friend he met online—another top student. He admired a professor, bought all his books, even reached out to him. He signed up for the independent admissions, got a reduced score for entry...”

Yu Guangchun couldn’t help but smile, boasting endlessly about his son.

Then, with a sigh, he shifted topics. “Another four years... maybe six, eight... Once he graduates, I can go home. Once he’s settled, found a good job, my duty as a father is done. By then, the mortgage will be paid off. The house will be his, the two of us will return home, look after the elders. If he marries, has children, needs our help, we’ll come back. He might not even stay here after graduation; could go somewhere else for work...”

He muttered, “Just a few more years and I’ll be free...”

Head bowed, Liu Yu could see the wrinkles on Yu Guangchun’s face and the white hairs at his temples.

Yu Guangchun looked up and smiled at him. “So you see, Little Liu, don’t find me troublesome. I won’t be around to bother you much longer.” He patted Liu Yu’s shoulder. “Next project, let’s work hard together.”

Yu Guangchun’s drunken smile was reflected in Liu Yu’s eyes.

In that instant, it was as though a string in Liu Yu’s mind snapped. He heard it—a sharp, clear sound.

The sleeve of his left arm seemed to burst open, instantly transforming into a grotesque, deformed tumor.

The tumor spread over his entire arm, its gaping maw lined with rows of sharp teeth. Viscous, dark green fluid oozed out. Two more slits split open above, revealing green, membranous sacs. As the outer layer peeled away, they focused into two eyes