Wang Meng woke up after the second hit, rubbing the back of his head and looking at me with a puzzled expression. “What’s going on?”
I rushed over and started hitting him, making him scramble up and run around the camp. “Wu Xie! Don’t think I’m afraid of you just because you have more people!” My anger flared even more, and I kicked him, causing him to stumble. The Fatty tripped him, and he fell face-first into the dirt. I stepped up and slapped him twice hard: “Tell me, what are you doing?”
“What you do is what I do. You can do whatever you want, but I can’t? That’s not fair!” Wang Meng still wouldn’t back down. I slapped him again, sending him flying. I stepped on his chest and tossed my shoe to the Fatty.
Wang Meng glared at me, breathing heavily, but he didn’t dare say anything more. I stared at him, and after a long while, he said, “What if he’s dead? A lot can happen in ten years. You’ve changed, he’s changed. Even if he’s not dead, he might have forgotten you. You’re risking your life to come here just to confront your inner demons.”
I lit a cigarette and looked at him coldly.
Wang Meng continued, “You know when he told you to find him after ten years, he was just giving you an unknown future. People are forgetful; he thought ten years would be enough for you to forget. You must be crazy to really come to get him.”
The Fatty and Xiao Hua both looked at us, and Wang Meng pointed at them: “For your inner demons, you’ve dragged all these people down with you. You’ve dragged me down too. My life wasn’t supposed to be like this. You can’t just do whatever you want because of your own inner demons; that’s not fair!”
I released my foot and looked at the scar on my hand. I didn’t expect Wang Meng to say these things to me, but I had long since been unwavering in my resolve. Because—”Everyone has their own inner demons.” I said, “What’s yours?”
He looked at me, unable to answer.
I said coldly, “I’ll give you two choices: either you go back now and keep watching the shop, or I’ll bury you here right now.”
His eyes reddened immediately.
“You don’t even want to talk about it.”
“Some people can’t afford to stand someone up on a date.” I said. The dull oil bottle might not show up, I might die on the way, but after going through so much, I needed a release. I needed a period at the end of this sentence. This release couldn’t be solved by sudden enlightenment; everything in the past ten years, and even before that, was so real it could be touched. These memories needed an ending.
“However, when I come back, I can tell you why I had to do this.” I looked at him and said again.
Wang Meng stared at me, and the Fatty squatted down beside him: “Go back. With your IQ, you can’t stop us, nor can you stop yourself from dying.”
Wang Meng stood up, the memories from last night making him reluctant to act tough. He packed away his gear, and his subordinates stood up one by one. I gave a glance to the shoulder strap, and he tossed some food to them.
Wang Meng glanced at me, then turned and limped out of the mountain. After a few steps, he turned back and said softly, “Boss, you must come back alive.”
I nodded, and he turned away, dejected, slowly walking further away.
I took a deep drag from my cigarette, and the Fatty said, “He had his subordinates pretend to be Xiao Ge because he wanted—”
“I didn’t hear the second half of what Fatty said; I wasn’t interested in knowing what he wanted to do. I asked Fatty, ‘How did you come out from underground?’”
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