Prologue – seeds in the wind

When Guan Shan's mother started to overshare his embarrassing childhood photos with Jian Yi while they waited for the hair dye to do its thing, it was his cue to take the trash out. The lid of the bin clattered loudly in the quiet alley between the buildings, and a soft, salty breeze from the sea caressed his sun-kissed skin. Yet another baking hot summer was coming to an end, and the nights were starting to fall darker and darker. The oncoming autumn could be smelled in the air even though the nights were still warm.

The monthly hair care visits got to his nerves, but it never took Jian Yi and his work tales long to make his mother laugh with tears in her eyes. If she could get her mind off their worries even for one night, it was a win in his books.

Just as he was about to turn back, he caught a glimpse of dim light shining from across the street. The porch lamp of the small cigarette shop was on, and someone was sitting under it on the stool where the old man who owned the store usually napped during the days.

With growing suspicion, Guan Shan hid in the shadows and edged closer to where the alley was cut by the main street. It was difficult to make out the face of the stranger, but when the dull light hit the black of his hair and a smoldering cigarette, Guan Shan knew exactly who it was. His mouth set in a hard line, and he stepped out of the shadows.

The shirtless stranger slumped in the stool glanced up when he heard the approaching steps scrape against the cobblestones. Guan Shan halted in front of the porch, and for a while, they just looked at each other in silence. The only sounds were the moths and bugs snapping against the porch light.

The man's right eye was well on its way to swell shut and his upper body was covered in nasty bruises. He had wrapped a roll of gauze clumsily around his middle, and it seemed his ribs were bruised by how gingerly he drew on his cigarette. The fierce fire spitting dragon tattoo on his shoulder had gotten life-like coloring from scratches and cuts.

Guan Shan's eyes locked onto a raw wound on his chest where there had used to be another, much smaller tattoo.

"They sure did a number on you."

Carefully the man adjusted on the stool and leaned his back on the stone wall with a grimace.

"Could've been worse."

"What are you doing here?"

"I bought this place."

Guan Shan squinted his eyes and took a suspicious look around. "What happened to the old man?"

"Don't worry, I made it worth his while. He got a pretty penny out of this shack to spend on his early retirement. Besides," he nodded at the small cardboard box at his feet, "I promised to take on the freeloader he'd found."

Guan Shan took a wary peek into the box and found a small, golden-brown puppy nestled in a blanket that had been folded to line the box from the inside. Its eyes were barely opened slits, and its tiny head struggled to rise under the heavy blanket.

"Some asshole had left him to die in a ditch."

Guan Shan crouched down to stroke the puppy, and on instinct, it started suckling on his finger.

"Why are you back?"

"I'm out."

"Just like that?"

"Does it look like it was 'just like that'?"

"And you came here? What for?"

"I told you I'd come back."

Carefully Guan Shan tucked the blanket more comfortably around the puppy. His flipflops scraped against the pavement in the quiet night when he stood up to tower over the man in the stool.

"There's nothing for you here," he said and stared down at the battered face.

When the man didn't rise to his bait but just kept smoking his cigarette, Guan Shan's chest filled with squeezing tightness.

"If you're looking for forgiveness, you've come to a wrong place. I will never forgive you. If you honestly thought getting the family brand shaven off was gonna make it all good, you're even more delusional than I thought. All that shit's gonna be on your conscience for the rest of your sorry life, and that's the only payback I'll ever be satisfied with."

The dark-grey eyes narrowed but remained unwavering under Guan Shan's hard stare.

"Whatever they took, I'm gonna get it all back for you."

Guan Shan sneered cruelly. "You're about a lifetime too late for that."

When the man fell silent again and just stared back at him, Guan Shan spun on his heels and strode off. Half-blind with feelings he didn't have a name for, he stumbled across the street. When he finally reached the cover of the shadows, he slumped against the wall and pressed his palm so hard against the rough stone surface the little uneven bumps threatened to pierce the skin and sink into the soft flesh.

"There you are!" Jian Yi said when Guan Shan opened the front door and almost bumped into him. "Your ma almost sent me looking for you."

Grateful for the darkness of the entryway and the fact that Jian Yi was an idiot, Guan Shan brushed past him and kicked his flipflops off into the pile of shoes in the corner. The house smelled of sharp hair dye, sweet shampoo, and hot air recycled by the blow-dryer.

"You done?"

"Yup." He eyed the top of Guan Shan's head and reached to run his fingers through the locks. "You want me to trim your ends real quick? It looks overgrown again."

Guan Shan slapped the hand away. "Did she pay you already?"

"She promised me the leftover sunflowers. So, let me know when the sales are done, okay?"

He growled in agreement and leaned against the doorframe to watch Jian Yi pack his haircut and dying kits.

"You need a ride home?"

"Nope, Xixi is waiting for me at the bus stop."

For such an untidy and messy bastard that Jian Yi was, he sure looked after his tools with care. Carefully he dried off the washed scissors, combs, pins, thick brushes, and plastic cups and arranged them precisely in their rightful cases and straps. Watching him work was almost hypnotic and weirdly satisfying.

"Hey," he said, and Jian Yi looked up at him from his packing, "you want a job other than cutting hair?"