Evening Stars Chapter 30
Translated by Q the Panda (ko-fi)
Chapter 30
There were dark circles under Xu Nanheng's eyes, and his face was pale.
For the third time, Fang Shiyou had asked him if he needed to pull over and get out for a walk, or if he was carsick.
And for the third time, Xu Nanheng replied, “I'm fine.”
Fang Shiyou, on the other hand, had a good, sound sleep. He slept for more than eight hours, didn't dream, and woke up half a minute before the alarm went off, looking refreshed.
Xu Nanheng's sleep, in contrast, was so poor he would have been better off not sleeping. He kept waking up, jolted awake by his own dreams, in which he would throw himself into Fang Shiyou's arms, wrap his arms around his waist, and bury his face against Fang Shiyou's chest.
The chest that could ‘satisfy the nutritional needs of a plateaue wolf.’
So now, in the car, he was in a dazed and unsteady state. The road from the county to the city was much smoother now, having been repaved into a provincial highway, though ‘smooth’ was only relative to mountain roads. Heavy trucks rumbled back and forth, some overloaded, and the road surface inevitably buckled under their weight.
Xu Nanheng swayed weakly with the motion of the car until, with a dull thud, his head bumped against the window.
“Ow.”
“Hey……” Fang Shiyou found a spot to pull off the highway and stopped the car. Xu Nanheng got out too. Fang Shiyou went into a roadside shop, bought a bottle of cold water, and said, “Come here.”
He didn't need to ask to know that Dr. Fang was going to apply a cold compress for him. So, by the dusty provincial road, in front of the Ford Raptor pickup, Xu Nanheng stood blankly against the car as Dr. Fang held up a bottle of cold water wrapped in a wet wipe and pressed it against the spot where he'd hit his head.
“I can do it myself,” Xu Nanheng said.
Fang Shiyou sighed helplessly. “Better let me do it.”
His hand was steady. This provincial road lay beneath the snow-capped mountains and was a favorite route for self-driving travelers. On good days, you could see the mountains gleam gold in the sunlight. On bad days…. like today, only construction vehicles and large semi-trailers rush by.
Tibet after snow was indeed beautiful. The snow at high altitudes was clean and dry. The sky seemed closer here. When it snowed, it felt like being inside a Christmas snow globe.
But snow brought not only the high-altitude cold but also strong winds, which could trigger avalanches. That was why some parts of Tibet had very long winter breaks. In Ngari, for example, schools closed from late December until March. Xu Nanheng's teaching post this year had a winter break scheduled from New Year's Day until the end of February, which was roughly the same length.
“Let's go,” Xu Nanheng said. “We don't want to be late.”
A loud rumble came as a large truck covered with a tarp rolled down the road. When it passed, Xu Nanheng glanced to his right, toward the other side of the highway, and then stopped walking.
It was neither desolate nor barren. Unlike what Xu Nanheng had imagined of the snow-covered plateau, it wasn't just a vast stretch of white. Even under the heavy snow, there was still vegetation. Half of it was submerged in the snow, while the other half swayed in the cold wind.
It was not desolate, nor was it barren.
It was magnificent.
Beneath the withered winter cliffs, tall grass would grow waist-high in spring and summer, feeding herds of yak, sheep, and horses. But in winter, when the boundless snow fell, every living thing closed its eyes and stopped moving.
All life submitted to the cold and snow. This was Tibet, the highest plateau on the land of China. This was the ancestor of a thousand mountains and the source of ten thousand rivers.
Hawks and eagles soared overhead, and the slender plants standing upright in the snow seemed to be guarding this land.
After Xu Nanheng stopped walking, Fang Shiyou didn't urge him on. To the right of the provincial highway was a vast grassland, which met a snow-capped mountain at its far edge. It was a landscape commonly seen in the Southern Tibetan Plateau.
A silent world, roaring winds, and tenacious life. Xu Nanheng suddenly understood. This was Tibet. The air here was thin, the terrain rising and falling sharply, the ultraviolet rays intense. This was the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, a place inhospitable to human survival. That was why, here, one must strive even harder…… to survive.
It was not about breaking through the soil to greet the spring, but about standing firm through the snow of winter, to finally await the spring that would eventually come.
Another truck passed by, blocking Xu Nanheng's line of sight. He drew back his gaze and looked at Fang Shiyou. The wind tossed their hair into disarray, and the strands falling over their eyes were like the unspoken emotions between them, quietly blurring their gaze.
Then Fang Shiyou walked toward him, and he too lifted a foot and stepped forward.
Fang Shiyou reached out, took hold of his wrist, and said, “Let's get back in the car.”
The Yarlung Tsangpo River flowed through Shannan, and the mountain passes were strung with rows of prayer flags, casting wide shadows over the highway.
Fang Shiyou first dropped him off at the city high school for his meeting, then headed to the hospital himself.
The meeting was a joint conference for volunteer teachers stationed across the Southern Tibetan region. Everyone exchanged updates on their students and teaching progress, and the director presiding over the meeting also conveyed the schedules for the upcoming Tibetan festivals and unified exams.
After going over the arrangements, the director invited the teachers to share their thoughts on the teaching schedule.
Xu Nanheng was just about to raise his hand when the teacher sitting in front of him shot to her feet. “Hello, Director. I'm a volunteer teacher for third-year senior high school in Gonggar. I'd like to request that our winter break be shortened to twelve days. We really don't have enough time.”
Xu Nanheng observed the director, who seemed a bit hesitant.
The teacher continued, “I've already received consent from more than half of the parents. The local herders have volunteered to help the school by carrying yak dung for the heating stoves. When the next cold front arrives, we plan to end classes at five and cancel evening self-study sessions, but every student must complete one full set of exam papers every day.”
Xu Nanheng thought that this arrangement could work for his school too.
The director said, “It started snowing too early this year. It's not only cold, but also……”
“It's necessary to store water and fodder for livestock in advance, which all the families of my senior high school students have already done,” the teacher said, clearly well-prepared. “And we've received support from a Tibetan mastiff kennel to help protect the students' family cattle pens.”
Xu Nanheng felt a deep sense of respect.
The meeting ran long. Each rural post had its own circumstances, and the teachers of graduating students had the most to say. By the end, everyone was hoarse and thirsty, and the thermos on Xu Nanheng's row had been refilled twice. He also brought up the difficulties faced by his village school. Boldly, he proposed flexible tutoring during the upcoming winter break.
Meaning, he would go to whichever family had finished their chores to check homework, reinforce key concepts, and review incorrect problems.
When he left the city school, the sky had already grown dark.
It had been a long time since Xu Nanheng had attended such an intense meeting. By the end, it felt almost like an argument. The director debated fiercely from the front, but no one backed down. Despite the chaos, everyone had the same goal of increasing assignments and lessons and shortening the winter break.
The director agreed to further allocate teachers to provide educational assistance to various counties and villages. Xu Nanheng successfully secured a county junior high school biology teacher to visit his village weekly, which would reduce Teacher Sonam's workload.
After leaving the school, Xu Nanheng checked his WeChat messages. There was nothing from Fang Shiyou, which meant he was still in surgery.
The volunteer teachers gradually streamed out of the school. A few praised the teacher who had stood up earlier. Her request had successfully shortened the winter break by several days.
Xu Nanheng stayed a bit far from the crowd. Once outside, he walked straight to the trash bin under a streetlamp. There was one cigarette left in his pack, and he lit it while standing there.
He hadn't expected the crowd to slowly start moving toward him.
“Hey! That teacher over there!” someone called out. “Teacher!”
Xu Nanheng lowered his cigarette, looking a little puzzled. “Me?”
“Yeah,” the person said. “There's a bar two blocks over. Let's all go grab a drink! Which teaching post are you from? Third-year junior high, right?”
Xu Nanheng smiled and shook his head. “Ah, no, no. You all go ahead. I'm waiting for a friend.”
“Oh, come on, we won't be drinking!” the person laughed. “We just want to chat, exchange some insights. Oh, and talk about the senior high school and college entrance exam questions!”
At that, Xu Nanheng was tempted.
Back at his school in Beijing, predicting exam questions was always handled by the most seasoned teachers. There was an old teacher surnamed Sang whose predictions were frighteningly accurate.
But predicting questions took both intuition and careful analysis, and teamwork always helped. Xu Nanheng held his phone in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and after a pause said, “Well, alright then.”
It was his last cigarette. He'd barely taken two puffs before he reluctantly put it out. He brushed off his clothes, worried about stray ash, and caught up with the group.
The teachers had come from all over the country. What began as discomfort had turned into quiet familiarity. A group of more than a dozen walked together, chatting and laughing. Xu Nanheng tried to keep a low profile, listening more than he spoke.
Naturally, the focus of conversation was the teacher who had stood up during the meeting. Her surname was Jiang. She didn't say where she was from, but she spent the whole walk advising others on how to leverage local resources. For example, the owner of the Tibetan Mastiff kennel she sought help from refused payment, so she promised to tutor his children after the college entrance exam.
Everyone agreed that was reasonable. Although the region was poor, there were still ways to earn money. More than money, people in poor regions longed for that kind of genuine, tangible value they rarely had access to.
The bar was right next to a noodle shop. The group, lively and loud, went into the noodle shop first for a quick bite before heading next door to the bar.
Plenty of young people, both locals and tourists, came out to drink at night in the city. The bartender, a Tibetan man who was also one of the bar's owners, had a broad smile. The place was warm, and he wore only a short-sleeved shirt. As he shook the cocktail shaker, the powerful muscles in his upper arms flexed, the veins visible beneath his dark skin.
The bar lighting was actually quite sufficient. It didn't deliberately create dim or ambiguous lighting, and the music wasn't too loud, allowing guests to converse at a normal volume.
A few women boldly complimented the bartender on his impressive physique. They asked if they could take a photo with him behind the counter. But in a daze, Xu Nanheng found himself thinking that it was not comparable to Fang Shiyou fresh out of the shower. Fang Shiyou's muscles were not only powerful but also more aesthetically pleasing, with superior lines and definition.
The volunteer teachers sat across from each other at a long table, some with alcohol, others with soft drinks.
Xu Nanheng ordered a sugar-free Coke and sipped through a straw while listening to the conversation. Most of them had prior teaching experience and shared insights that he found genuinely useful. Then someone pulled out an iPad to discuss exam questions. Xu Nanheng wanted to take a look too, but it was a bit too crowded to squeeze in.
Still, it was a holiday atmosphere. With laughter coming from nearby tables and young people shouting “Cheers!” now and then, someone finally suggested they all raise a glass to celebrate the progress they'd made in their volunteer work.
Xu Nanheng hadn't planned on drinking, but Teacher Jiang from the Gonggar post waved her hand decisively, cutting off any protest. With an easy flick of her chin toward the bartender, she announced that everyone was getting a shot of tequila, on her.
The bartender acknowledged the order and asked if an añejo aged tequila would be acceptable, as it had a smoother taste.
Teacher Jiang made an OK gesture.
After Teacher Jiang offered a toast, a few other teachers stood up to do the same. Naturally, Xu Nanheng followed along and toasted everyone as well. One round after another, he quickly reached his limit. He couldn't tell if it was because his tolerance was poor or because the others were simply too good at drinking.
By the time Fang Shiyou came to find him, he was already quite tipsy.
Before heading to the bar, he had sent Fang Shiyou his location. In truth, Xu Nanheng didn't really know his alcohol tolerance. He wasn't a drinker by habit, save for the occasional sip to keep his grandfather company during their conversations. This time, he genuinely liked the vibe. It wasn't a formal banquet or a networking event. There were no professional obligations or hidden agendas. It was simply a chance to unwind with a group of fellow teachers from all over the country.
Fang Shiyou placed a hand on his back and greeted the others with a polite smile and a nod. The rest of the teachers seemed mostly fine, not too drunk, but it was clear Xu Nanheng was struggling to stay composed.
The moment he felt Fang Shiyou's palm against his back, the taut nerve that was maintaining his sanity finally relaxed. He smiled softly and called out, “Dr. Fang.”
“Yeah, Teacher Xu,” Fang Shiyou replied, just as he had many times before.
It was already very late, though Xu Nanheng had no idea what time it was. The bar's music was a light female voice singing, ‘Don't tell me that it's bad timing.’
Xu Nanheng was sitting on a tall barstool, and Fang Shiyou was almost looming over him. He wasn't short, but from this angle and height difference, his head was just about level with Fang Shiyou's collarbone.
Fang Shiyou's surgery had started a little after ten in the morning and had only just ended. After stepping off the operating table, he drank a bottle of juice to recharge before heading straight to the bar.
When they heard he was a doctor aiding Tibet, everyone insisted on buying him a drink. Fang Shiyou could only explain that he had driven and couldn't drink. He also mentioned taking Teacher Xu back first. It wasn't a formal occasion, but he still apologized as he excused himself.
The moment they stepped out of the bar, Xu Nanheng shivered. “Ow.”
The temperature difference between day and night in Tibet was already extreme, not to mention that October was already early winter. But the biting wind didn't sober him up. Instead, it pushed him closer to the Dr. Fang.
He was acting like his own fat tabby cat, Pangpang. When it got cold, it would burrow into people's clothes.
“This way.” Fang Shiyou kept a hand on his back, worried he might stumble. A few sidewalk tiles were uneven, and in the dark, the drunk Xu Nanheng didn't watch his steps. He tripped, his whole body pitching forward.
Fang Shiyou quickly reached out an arm to catch him, He was met with the strong scent of liquor and a pair of bleary, dazed eyes. After tripping, he looked up at Fang Shiyou with a wounded expression and complained, “You scared me.”
Fang Shiyou thought anyone would be startled in that situation, so he simply hugged his waist. The car was right next to the sidewalk, only a few steps away.
“Dr. Fang.”
“Yeah.”
“Why aren't there any stars?”
Fang Shiyou looked up. Due to the recent snowfall, Southern Tibet had been overcast for several days. “Wait a little longer. They'll appear.”
“Mm.” Xu Nanheng lifted a hand and rested it on Fang Shiyou's shoulder, steadying himself to stand upright.
He stood straight like a young bamboo, like a student at attention in school, then tilted his head back.
The moment Fang Shiyou realized he was ‘waiting for the stars,’ he felt as if a cup of scalding tea had been poured over his heart, flowing from his chest through his blood vessels to every limb.
With his head tilted back, the elegant line of Xu Nanheng's neck was fully exposed in Fang Shiyou's view, tracing a line from his chin, past his Adam's apple, until it finally dipped beneath his collar. Fang Shiyou swallowed and said, “Let's wait for them tomorrow, okay?”
“Will we be able to see them tomorrow?” the little drunkard asked. Without waiting for an answer, he shifted the topic. People who'd had a bit too much to drink just said whatever came to mind. Xu Nanheng wasn't throwing a tantrum, just being a bit of a chatterbox.
He looked at Fang Shiyou and asked, “What surgery did you do today?”
“Open-heart bypass,” Fang Shiyou replied.
Xu Nanheng nodded with a soft “Oh,” then pointed to his own chest. “You open it up here?”
“Yes. The coronary artery was blocked, so it couldn't supply blood to the heart. It's like a highway interchange: you place another blood vessel next to the blocked one, bypassing the congested section, so the blood can flow through the new vessel.”
Fang Shiyou had never in his life explained what a heart bypass was to someone on a sidewalk on a freezing night. It was so cold that their breath instantly froze into mist. The streetlights flickered, and the wind occasionally swept up dead leaves
But he enjoyed it. He felt like he could stand here and talk to Xu Nanheng all night.
The cold, the wind, even hunger, none of it seemed to register. Xu Nanheng's eyes were fixed on him as he said, “You're really amazing.”
People couldn't help but be thrilled when complimented, and Dr. Fang was no exception. Still, being a somewhat reserved man, he shook his head and replied honestly, “No, I wasn't the chief knife (surgeon).”
“Of course you are not the knife. You're Dr. Fang.”
Good. One could tell he'd already gotten into his own rhythm. Fang Shiyou nodded. “I am Dr. Fang.”
This time he wrapped an arm around Xu Nanheng's shoulder and guided him toward the car.
There was a back-to-back surgery that evening, meaning as soon as they finished their operation, another one was scheduled to begin immediately. The doctors who came to take over the second surgery brought them juice and bread. Fang Shiyou drank the juice, leaving the bag of bread in the car.
He planned to get Xu Nanheng into the car first, then eat the bread before driving back to the county. Half carrying him, he tucked Teacher Xu into the passenger seat, closed the door, and tore open the bread bag by the roadside. The bread was soft and fluffy, not likely to choke him, and had a slightly tart jam filling.
It was a quarter past nine at night. The streetlight above was dim, barely illuminating its own shade. Fang Shiyou finished the bread in a few bites and tossed the bag into the trash.
The one who had drunk was Xu Nanheng, but for some reason, his own mind had become a mess. After throwing away the wrapper, Fang Shiyou didn't go to the driver's seat on the left. Instead, he pulled open the passenger door again. Inside, Xu Nanheng was sitting obediently. A gust of wind blew in as the door opened. He leaned against the headrest, tilting his head, watching Fang Shiyou approach.
“Dr. Fang.”
This time Fang Shiyou didn't respond with the usual, ‘Hey, Teacher Xu.’ He leaned halfway into the car, reached over, and pulled down the passenger seatbelt, clicking it into place.
Next, Dr. Fang braced his hand on the headrest next to Xu Nanheng's head, and stared intently at him.
“Xu Nanheng.”
“……”
“Are you single, Xu Nanheng?” Fang Shiyou asked. “Do you have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend?”
Xu Nanheng's beautiful eyes widened. He grew nervous, his double eyelids stretched so wide that only the small fork at the outer corner of his eyes remained visible. Yet the alcohol had dulled his central nervous system, making his thoughts sluggish, his reactions slow, and his heartbeat race.
“Xu Nanheng,” Fang Shiyou called his full name again. His clear articulation, particularly the way he pronounced the character ‘heng,’ made his Adam's apple tremble.
“I…… don't,” Xu Nanheng answered.
Fang Shiyou nodded, sighing in relief. The tension in his brow and eyes eased, and his gaze returned to its former calm and gentleness. He smiled at Xu Nanheng. “Good. Me neither.”
Xu Nanheng was still half-dazed at the moment. It wasn't often that he found himself in such a bewildered state. His left hand reached out, found the seatbelt latch, pressed it, and let it pop free, then got out of the car.
The car was quite tall, so Fang Shiyou helped steady him.
“What's wrong?” Fang Shiyou asked.
Xu Nanheng didn't answer. He just reached into Fang Shiyou's jacket pockets. Such impolite behavior was only possible because he was drunk and the other person was Fang Shiyou, allowing him to be so reckless. Xu Nanheng searched the left pocket, then the right. Fang Shiyou didn't stop him and just let him search.
“Where's the cigarette?” Xu Nanheng asked.
His hands kept moving further up. Fang Shiyou was wearing a windbreaker with two chest pockets. Xu Nanheng's hand landed directly on his chest muscles. Fang Shiyou had changed into a T-shirt for surgery convenience. It was cold outside, and he'd just mustered the courage to ask something he'd long wanted to, so the chest muscles were tense.
They were very prominent.
Xu Nanheng's hand resting there made him even more nervous.
Strong, well-trained chest muscles of a hardworking cardiac surgeon. Xu Nanheng's sanity, like the stars he'd been waiting for tonight, was not coming back. So he squeezed…… no, ‘grabbed a handful’ would be more accurate.
Fang Shiyou had no idea what was happening. He was completely baffled.
Despite his confusion, he didn't forget Xu Nanheng's request. He reached into his pants pocket, took out his cigarette and lighter, and handed them over.
Seeing the cigarette reminded Xu Nanheng that he wanted to smoke. He pulled his hand away from Fang Shiyou's chest, took the cigarette, tapped one out, and Fang Shiyou helped light it.
He took a drag, but somehow it came out all wrong, like he didn't know how to smoke. He inhaled sharply, coughing violently.
“Whoa.” Fang Shiyou took the cigarette from his fingers, half amused, half exasperated, and patted his back. “Take it slow.”
“Cough, cough, cough……” Xu Nanheng was sandwiched between the open passenger seat behind him and Fang Shiyou in front.
Fang Shiyou rubbed his back soothingly, then gently pressed the back of his neck toward his own shoulder. “Here, lean on me while you cough.”
Xu Nanheng brushed away the tears from coughing. “What kind of clinical treatment is this?”
“This is my private treatment method,” Fang Shiyou said.