Sign language

Chapter 1

　　As the school term loomed, Song Yongsu stood in the corner shop, one hand steadying his phone while the other gestured idly at the cigarette wall behind the counter."Term’s starting,"he said into the receiver."Could you not dock my allowance this time?"

　　A rustle of papers accompanied the brusque reply:"Busy. Non-negotiable. Anything else?"

　　Song Yongsu pulled the phone away, muffling the speaker against his palm as he addressed the shop assistant."A pack of Kabylons."

　　"£12, and may I see your..."Xu Xuan’s request died mid-sentence as Song Yongsu slapped down a fake ID, scanned the QR code, and strode out before the transaction pinged complete.

　　The first drag burned sweet. Through the shop window, Song Yongsu watched chaos unfold–some bloke clutching stolen cigarettes, Xu Xuan leaning precariously over the counter pleading"Sir, please, I’m just..."

　　The shove came sudden. Xu Xuan crashed into shelves, a rain of cartons pummeling him. As the thief bolted for the door, Song Yongsu yanked it open. Momentum carried the man stumbling into Song Yongsu’s space–close enough to smell the panic sweat.

　　Thwack.The kick landed clean. Before the would-be thief could right himself, Song Yongsu’s knuckles cracked against his jaw. The metallic snick of a Zippo flipped open underscored the groveling.

　　Xu Xuan, trembling behind the till, dialled 999 with fractured fingers. He tracked Song Yongsu’s movements like prey–the coiled menace in those grey eyes, the peeling laminate of the fake ID peeking from school trousers. The air hummed with cloying osmanthus from the vents, the scent clinging like guilt.

　　By the time plod arrived, Song Yongsu had melted into Nanjing’s labyrinthine hutongs . The shop owner docked Xu Xuan’s wages for damages. The thief paid restitution weeks later–long after Xu Xuan got the sack.

　　At half-ten, Xu Xuan limped home to their council flat. Grandma waited at the stairwell, milky eyes searching."Pet, you’re late..."

　　"Told you not to wait, Nai Nai."He bent for her papery touch, hiding the splinted hand. Her gnarled fingers found the injury anyway.

　　"Walked into a door,"Xu Xuan lied through the lump in his throat. Nine years since the crash stole his parents’voices. Nine years of hospital smells and pretending the disability checks stretched far enough.

　　First day back baked under Jiangsu’s furnace sun. Xu Xuan’s pallor stood ghostly against classmates’tanned necks. The new AC units droned as Form Tutor Wang rapped his ruler–crack!–against the doorframe.

　　"Transfer student. Introduce yourself."

　　Xu Xuan’s head snapped up. There he stood–Kabylon Guy, all polished in school blazer, dimples flashing."Song Yongsu. Eternal yong, wanderer’s su . Seventeen."The angelic act didn’t reach his gunmetal eyes.

　　"Xu Xuan."Wang’s pointer hovered."You’ll seat him."

　　The empty desk still held traces of its former occupant–some rich kid gone abroad after the family’s ancestral home got bulldozed. Song Yongsu’s handshake offer turned into a cruel pantomime, leaving Xu Xuan dangling mid-air.

　　Absolute nutter,Xu Xuan fumed. The exam rankings confirmed it–Song Yongsu’s name perched smugly above his own. During break, Xu Xuan hissed"Keep this up, I’ll report your fake ID"before fleeing to the rooftop.

　　Summer rain misted the concrete. The door creaked open. Song Yongsu’s Zippo flared, nicotine curling through damp air.

　　"Xu Xuan."

　　He turned straight into the smoke plume. Coughs wracked him as Song Yongsu tutted."Ungrateful. After I helped you."

　　The thumb swiping his tear track left a nicotine stain. Xu Xuan stared at the retreating back–that aristocratic nose, the birthmark constellation he’d memorised against his will. Winter fog eyes. Liar’s mouth.

　　Somewhere below, the bell trilled. The game was afoot.