(1)
Although Fang Qiang had only stayed one night in the garage, the freshly tidied space already had a hint of life to it.
A few wads of napkins were scattered messily on the floor.
On the nightstand lay half a pack of unfinished crispy noodles and an empty milk carton.
The old table patched with books was piled high with all sorts of random things—but not a single one related to studying.
“So messy.”
“Hahaha—can’t stand it, huh?”
Zhou Chao laughed as he bent down to pick up the balled napkins and tossed them into a black plastic bag by the door.
That’s right, the garage didn’t even have a trash can yet.
That’s why Fang Qiang had to ride his bike to the greenhouse shopping street—to buy some daily necessities.
As for An Jing and Zhou Chao, they had the garage key and were left to wait inside for a bit.
“Hey, is this an electric keyboard?”
An Jing’s eyes suddenly lit up as she hurried over to the shelf covered with a red velvet mat by the wall.
“You brought it? When did that happen?”
“This morning. I strapped it to the back of my motorcycle and rode it over.”
“Huh? You could bring it like that?”
“Had to get up early for it. That thing sticks out so much on both ends, riding when there’s a lot of traffic isn’t easy, you know?”
“You protected it pretty well. You said the other day you were afraid you wouldn’t find it. Looks to me like you purposely stashed it away.”
“That’s exactly why I couldn’t find it—I put it away. Are you dumb or something?”
Zhou Chao rolled his eyes, walked to An Jing’s side, and lifted the dust-proof red velvet mat.
“Since A-Qiang isn’t here yet, I might as well test out the sound. You sent me eight songs yesterday—damn, you think too highly of me! I’ll be lucky if I can try just one simple song today.”
“You already memorized one song? That’s more impressive than I expected.”
“Who said anything about memorizing? I printed out the sheet music—it’s in my backpack!”
Zhou Chao patted his backpack.
“A-Qiang doesn’t really have anywhere to put backpacks here.”
“Put it on the bed, I doubt he’ll mind.”
An Jing said as she took off her backpack and put it on Fang Qiang’s rock-hard folding bed.
Then, looking a little puzzled, she scratched her head.
“There’s only one chair? Are you using that one, or do you need a special seat?”
“This one’s fine for me. If not, aren’t there a few cardboard boxes stuffed with books? Stack a few and you can sit.”
Zhou Chao yanked the battered chair away from the table with a clatter and plopped down—only to immediately topple over.
This office chair, cobbled together from parts of several others, still had all its parts.
But no one expected the legs to have reached their metal fatigue limit.
As soon as he sat, the legs bent outward like a soggy cruller.
“Damn!!”
“Hahahaha—”
An Jing laughed so hard she doubled over.
“You’re really unlucky!”
“What the hell, A-Qiang sits there just fine. How come when it’s my turn, this happens?”
“That’s because you’ve done too many bad things, that’s why.”
“I never do bad things!”
“Sure, you don’t do bad things—you do other things…”
An Jing rolled her eyes and reached out to help Zhou Chao up.
“You alright? Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
“As long as my back’s fine, I’m fine!”
Zhou Chao dusted off his pants.
“Shit, now there really isn’t anywhere to sit.”
“You said it yourself—stack some books!”
“You’re serious about that?”
“Why not?”
“Putting knowledge under my butt gives me a bit of a guilty conscience.”
“Whoa, did the sun just rise in the west?”
An Jing widened her eyes in mock amazement.
“You, feeling guilty? Did you ever feel that way when you were switching girlfriends?”
“I did—just a little, though.”
“No one’s gonna believe that!”
“Hahahaha…”
“So, who’s your new girlfriend from this time?”
“Zeguo High School.”
“Whoa, whoa, a high school girl? Now you’re going after older girls, huh?”
“That’s not all—she’s graduating this summer and going to university.”
“Damn, really? She doesn’t think you’re too young?”
“Young?”
Zhou Chao glanced down at himself.
“I’m not that small, you know. Though of course, I can’t compare to how you used to be.”
“…Screw you.”
An Jing curled her lip.
“You really are something—sometimes I almost admire you for it.”
“Nothing to admire.”
Zhou Chao clapped An Jing’s shoulder, speaking with an odd seriousness.
“I’m the one who should admire you.”
“Admire me for what?”
“Still staying optimistic, even now. I probably couldn’t do that.”
“It’s nothing. People have to live, don’t they?”
Just then, a sharp screech of brakes came from outside, followed by the clack of a bicycle kickstand.
Both looked toward the garage entrance and saw Fang Qiang hurrying in, arms loaded with several large bags.
“Whoa, you bought so much stuff so fast?”
An Jing sounded surprised.
“That’s efficient!”
“I wrote up a shopping list last night, so I just bought everything at once.”
Fang Qiang said smugly as he set the bags on the floor.
“Come help me out—this is the trash can, put a bag in it. Here are the poster stickers—all Initial D and Slam Dunk. Let’s plaster this wall with them!”
“What else did you get?”
“Daily stuff—napkins, disposable cups, and even a portable gas stove. We’ll just have someone deliver a small gas cylinder later and then we can cook our own food tonight.”
“Nice, you really thought of everything.”
Zhou Chao crouched by the pile of bags.
“You even bought a bunch of booze. Planning to drown your sorrows tonight?”
“Manual labor on the weekend is exhausting. Can’t sleep without a little drink.”
“So tough,” An Jing suddenly felt a bit sorry for her brother.
“You really are tired out.”
“It’s not so bad. At least it’s easier than sitting in class. If I had to choose, I’d rather work.”
“Haha, there are just some people in this world,” Zhou Chao grinned at An Jing, “who just aren’t cut out for studying!”
***
(2)
“An Jing, haven’t you finished putting those up yet?”
“Nope, the posters you bought are huge. I have to stick them on straight, or they’ll bubble everywhere.”
“It’s fine! Doesn’t have to be perfect—it’s just a crummy garage. What’s the big deal?”
Fang Qiang stood with his hands on his waist, admiring his finished wall—plastered from top to bottom with all kinds of Initial D posters.
Among them, the Panda AE86 with its headlights shining through the night fog looked the most captivating.
“Hey, isn’t this Natsuki?”
Zhou Chao nudged Fang Qiang with a teasing grin.
“You bought a bunch of Natsuki posters too?”
“The shop owner threw those in for free. Might as well stick them up.”
“That’s fine?”
“Why not?”
“Hey, perfect—today the first song we’re practicing is ‘Yilu Xiangbei.’”
“Damn, can I sing this one? I really feel it, you know?”
“Wasn’t Xiao Jing going to sing it for her girlfriend? What are you butting in for?”
“She’s singing it for her girlfriend—that’s bad luck, isn’t it? Let me sing it!”
“We could do several versions. Like, A-Qiang does one version, I do one.”
An Jing stood on a stack of books, still having to stretch on tiptoe to get the topmost poster flat.
“Or you could sing your own version too, Zhou Chao—”
“That works! Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. A-Qiang and I can each record a tape. Since half the songs you gave me are Jay Chou songs, we can each sing a version and that’ll make eight songs—one side each!”
“Right!”
“Smack!”
Fang Qiang walked over and pressed a poster flat with his palm.
“That’s enough. No need to be so careful—it doesn’t have to look good.”
“If we’re doing something, might as well do it right.”
An Jing hopped off the books, pouting.
“Alright, there’s just a bit left over there, you wanna do it?”
“Sure, I’ll handle it.”
“Give me some, I’ll help. Let’s finish up and get started. Today’s our first practice as the Garage Band!”
“Huh? Garage Band?”
An Jing pulled a face.
“When did you come up with that?”
“Just now! Don’t you think it’s fitting? Even if it’s temporary, having a name gets everyone more fired up.”
“Whatever, not like we’re really planning to form a band.”
An Jing tilted her head, rolling the name around.
“Garage Band… after saying it a few times, it’s kind of catchy.”
“Right? How about it, A-Qiang, Garage Band it is?”
“Fine by me.”
Fang Qiang stuck another poster to the wall.
“I bought a shaker, you guys can use it for rhythm. But I’m not sure how it’ll go—I’ve only ever sung for fun and never learned an instrument.”
“That’s how it was in elementary school,” Zhou Chao couldn’t help but laugh.
“You could read sheet music but couldn’t learn any instruments, and your singing was always off-key. An Jing couldn’t read music at all—just played by feel—and somehow learned harmonica really well, and sings better than you, too, haha—”
“That’s what you call talent! Sometimes, you just gotta admit it!”
“Nah, it’s because the teacher sucked. I learned to read music on my own later, figured out a bit, alright?”
***
(3)
At sunset, the golden light stretched their shadows long, dyeing the whole world with a gentle warmth.
Inside the west-facing garage, Zhou Chao sat on a stool made from stacked old books in front of a well-kept electric keyboard.
Fang Qiang sat at the foot of the bed, holding a shaker to keep the beat.
An Jing took a deep breath, holding a water bottle like a microphone, and began to sing softly.
“…Why’d you stop?”
“Sorry, played the wrong note.”
“Damn.”
“Haha, let’s try again! We’re just practicing—let’s work until every song fits perfectly, then record them on tape. Otherwise it’s too much trouble.”
“Yeah, fine. A-Qiang, you ready?”
“I’m basically just standing by.”
“Three, two, one, go!”
“Thud.”
“Ahem, sorry, I dropped the shaker.”
“Damn it!!”
“Again.”
“Again!!”