msmithbooks Chapter 24 It's always the boss who gets hurt.
Chapter 24 It's always the boss who gets hurt.
Yoon Shi-yoon arrived earlier than Su Yu.
When Su Yu turned into the alley, the man was already standing by the low wall like a dark-faced demon. He was holding two punching bags, wearing one himself and tucking the other under his arm. He was idly grinding the pebbles on the ground with his toes, making a harsh scraping sound.
"Did the sun rise in the west today?" Su Yu took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag, trying to numb his nerves with nicotine before he was about to suffer.
Yoon Shi-yoon didn't respond, but instead threw the punching bag from under his armpit. Su Yu caught it hastily, his hand going numb—the bruises from last night hadn't faded yet, and the thing looked like a torture device.
"Until what time?" Yoon Shi-yoon asked, his voice as cold as the draft in an alley.
"It's getting dark."
"Aren't you going to work tomorrow?"
"The company is mine, I can start work whenever I want." Su Yu exhaled a smoke ring, trying to regain some dignity as a capitalist.
"Come on. Who told me yesterday that 'the employees are stressed, and the boss needs to lead by example'?"
"That was filming a dramatic scene. This is practicing action scenes; the nature of the two is different."
"How are they different?"
"You played Kim Do-gi in the drama scenes, and now you're practicing action scenes. Are you trying to beat me to death, Yoon Shi-yoon?"
Yoon Shi-yoon's lips curled into a cold smile, and he stopped talking nonsense. He tightened his grip on the punching bag, took two steps back, and assumed a fighting stance, his eyes clearly saying: Since you know, then you'll have to take it.
Su Yu reluctantly put on the punching bag and held it in front of his chest: "Be gentle, I have to meet the screenwriter this afternoon."
"Can you pick a day to really fight?" Before Yoon Shi-yoon could finish speaking, a straight punch had already come flying at him.
"Bang!"
With a muffled thud, Su Yu felt the bones in his entire left arm resonate, as if someone was drilling into his bones. The punching bag almost slipped from his grasp, and he gritted his teeth to barely maintain his balance. His entire arm instantly felt like it had been filled with vinegar, throbbing with pain.
"Again." Su Yu forced himself to stay awake, a fine layer of cold sweat seeping from his forehead.
The second punch. His hand went numb from the impact, as if he'd been electrocuted, and half his body felt limp.
The third punch landed squarely on the bruise on his forearm. Su Yu didn't utter a sound, but his brow twitched violently, and he almost lost control of his facial expression, his features scrunched up in a grimace.
"Does it hurt?" Yoon Shi-yoon withdrew his fist, looking at him with a half-smile, but a hint of hesitation flashed in his eyes.
"It doesn't hurt," Su Yu stubbornly insisted, her voice barely audible.
Your eyelids are twitching.
"It was blown by the wind."
"There's not a soul in this alley, where's the wind coming from?" Yoon Shi-yoon looked around, even the clothes on the clothesline hung lifelessly.
Su Yu didn't reply, but raised the punching bag two centimeters higher: "Stop talking nonsense, continue."
By the forty-first strike, Su Yu's left arm had completely given out.
It wasn't pain, it was aching. The aching went right to my bones, my whole arm felt like it had been pulled out of its muscles, hanging limply at my side, and every time I lifted it, I had to muster all my willpower, and my fingertips were trembling uncontrollably.
Yoon Shi-yoon noticed and took off the punching bag: "Alright, take a break."
"Two more sets." Su Yu was unwilling to give up and tried to raise his left hand, but found that the muscles in his arm were protesting wildly, as if countless ants were gnawing at his nerves.
"If you have two more sets, you won't even be able to pick up chopsticks tonight. Will I have to feed you then?" Yoon Shi-yoon walked to the wall, unscrewed the bottle of mineral water, tilted his head back and took a swig, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
Su Yu also took off the punching bag and squatted down against the wall. His left hand rested on his knee, hanging limply like a dead fish, his fingertips pale. His right hand reached for the cigarettes in his pocket; he found the cigarettes, but the lighter was gone.
"Where's the fire?" He rummaged through his pockets, his forehead veins throbbing with anxiety.
Yoon Shi-yoon tossed his lighter over. Su Yu caught it, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and felt half of his soul return to him.
"Su Yu," Yin Shiyun suddenly spoke.
"Um?"
"Did you used to stand for hours a day at the convenience store?"
Eight hours.
"Are your arms sore?"
"It's not sour. That's from training, from carrying bottled water."
"Then how did it become so useless?"
"I don't carry water anymore, I've switched to bricklaying and screenwriting. My hands are ruined, and so is my brain."
Yin Shiyun didn't say anything, put the water bottle on the ground, walked over and squatted down, grabbing Su Yu's left hand.
Su Yu didn't dodge. Yin Shiyun's long, strong fingers pressed against the purplish-black bruise on his forearm, kneading it gently. At first, it was excruciatingly painful, but slowly, the pain dissipated, turning into a dull, aching sensation that was so comfortable it made him want to sigh.
"You can do this too?" Su Yu asked in surprise, looking at Yin Shiyun's lowered eyes, feeling a strange tightness in her heart.
"Veterans all learned first aid."
"Aren't you a special forces soldier?"
"But I will."
Just as I was kneading, I heard footsteps coming from the alley entrance.
Cai Xiubin walked in carrying a plastic bag from the convenience store and immediately saw Yin Shiyun squatting in front of Su Yu, their hands clasped together, their posture so ambiguous that it looked like they were acting out some kind of melodrama.
She paused, then asked, "What are you doing? Getting gay?"
"He was massaging my arm." Su Yu quickly pulled her hand back, as if she had been electrocuted, the movement was so big that she almost fell over.
"His arm is broken?"
"It's not broken. Almost there. It feels like being run over by a truck."
"You're almost out of commission and you still have the energy to smoke?" Cai Xiubin walked over, threw the bag on the ground, and took out three cans of iced coffee. He tossed one can to Yin Shiyun and another to Su Yu.
Su Yu's left hand was useless, and his right hand was still trembling from just finishing a cigarette. He reached out to catch it—but failed.
The coffee can fell to the ground with a clatter, rolled twice, and came to rest next to the peeling linoleum floorboards.
"Your hand is really ruined." Cai Xiubin bent down, picked it up, and handed it to him.
Su Yu took it, gripped the pull ring with his thumb, and tried to pull it open—but couldn't.
I tried harder—but it still wouldn't open. My fingers were slipping, like I had Parkinson's disease.
He glanced awkwardly at the coffee in his hand, then at Cai Xiubin: "Cai Xiubin, please open it for me. I'm begging you."
"Boss Su, you're really done for." Cai Xiubin took it with a look of disgust, easily pulled it open with a "click," and handed it back. "I'll do this kind of rough work from now on, so you don't have to try to scam me."
Su Yu took a sip of iced coffee, felt a shiver from the cold, and didn't say anything.
"Did you bring lunch today?" Su Yu tried to change the subject.
"I brought it."
"Is there meat?"
"no."
"So what did you bring?"
"Seaweed rice rolls. Leftovers from yesterday."
"Yesterday's?" Su Yu frowned.
"Just kidding. It was made fresh this morning." Cai Xiubin took the pink lunchbox out of the bag. The lid was closed much more tightly than yesterday. She opened the lid and pushed it in front of Su Yu.
The seaweed rice rolls were cut neatly and evenly, with clean edges and not a single grain of rice spilling out.
"Your knife skills have improved today." Su Yu picked up a piece and put it in his mouth.
"Of course, I practiced all night."
"Delicious." Su Yu chewed a couple of times and praised it sincerely.
Didn't you say "it's alright" yesterday?
Yesterday is yesterday, today is today. A person should be looked at with new eyes after three days of separation.
Yoon Shi-yoon stood by and watched the show for a while, then opened his coffee, took a sip, and suddenly said, "I'm leaving."
"Not practicing anymore?" Su Yu looked up.
"Your hands are practically useless, what are you still practicing for? Are you practicing how to catch coffee?" Yoon Shi-yoon put the punching bag on the wall, draped a towel over his shoulder, and turned to walk towards the alley entrance.
As he passed Cai Xiubin, he paused, glanced down at the box of seaweed rice rolls, and said nothing. Cai Xiubin also looked up at him, and the two stared at each other for a split second before tacitly looking away.
Yoon Shi-yoon left. The sound of a car starting up could be heard from the alley entrance, gradually fading into the distance.
Su Yu watched that retreating figure, a strange emptiness creeping into his heart. When Yin Shiyun massaged his arm earlier, he clearly felt that hand trembling slightly—a lingering effect of overexertion. This guy, even though he wasn't much better himself, was pretending to be nonchalant. Su Yu sighed, then stuffed another piece of seaweed rice roll into his mouth, his cheeks bulging.
"Su Yu," Cai Xiubin suddenly spoke.
"Um?"
"Did you deliberately leave that coffee can unopened just now?"
"No. I really can't pull it apart."
"You're lying. You were able to climb over the wall yesterday."
"You use your legs to climb over walls, but you use your hands to make coffee. How can you compare them? It's called specialization."
"You're just making excuses." Cai Xiubin stood up, dusted off his pants, and said, "I'm leaving. I'll return the lunchbox to you tomorrow."
"Return the lunchbox today. Bring a new lunchbox tomorrow."
"You're so fussy."
"I'm the boss."
"So what if you're the boss?" She bent down, closed the lunchbox, picked it up, and turned to leave. Her ponytail swayed behind her head like a haughty cat's tail.
Su Yu held the can of ice-cold coffee, took a sip, and frowned at the bitterness.
He put the jar on the ground, stood up, and his left arm was still so sore he couldn't lift it, as if he were carrying a heavy jack. He took down the boxing pads from the wall, put them on one by one, and stuffed them into his bag.
I had just zipped up my jacket when my phone vibrated.
Cai Xiubin's message: [If your hand is really ruined, go to the hospital. Don't try to tough it out, or I'll have to take care of you, and I don't have the patience for that.]
Su Yu stared at the screen, his fingers tapping on the keyboard: [Don't I still have my right hand?]
"Then how will you wipe your butt?"
Use your left hand. Save your right hand for writing scripts; that's a productivity tool.
[So how do you write screenplays?]
[Writing with a pen held in your mouth.]
A string of ellipses appeared on the other end, followed by a voice message. Cai Xiubin's voice was laced with laughter: "Su Yu, you son of a bitch, do you want to die?"
Su Yu chuckled and replied with a voice message: "I'll miss you."
My phone vibrated again. This time it was Yoon Shi-yoon: [Tomorrow at 3 PM. Leg training.]
Su Yu replied: [My leg is fine. My arm is hurt. It feels like I was slashed.]
【Then let's train our arms.】
[His arm was also inadequate. It had already been amputated.]
"So what are you coming for tomorrow?"
I came to watch you practice. And just to bring you some water.
Yoon Shi-yoon did not reply.
Su Yu put her phone back in her pocket, picked up her bag, and walked towards the alley entrance.
The black rubber band had somehow slipped out of his pocket and lay forlornly on the ground. He bent down, picked it up, and wrapped it around his wrist twice.
I had just put it on when my phone vibrated again.
Cai Xiubin: [I'm home. The lunchbox is washed. I'll bring meat tomorrow. You said it.]
Su Yu looked at the message, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, and typed back: "I have no money."
[Buying on credit.]
What about the interest?
[Interest is like you getting better so I can use you as a target.]
"Can you even touch me?"
Give it a try.
Su Yu's smile deepened. He put his phone away, clutched the half-finished can of coffee, and walked out of the alley.
The streetlights cast a dim yellow glow, and flying insects continued to circle tirelessly. As darkness fell, the lively atmosphere of the Dongdaemun Night Market wafted over, the sweet and spicy aroma of stir-fried rice cakes making mouths water.
He originally wanted to buy a plate of stir-fried rice cakes to treat himself.
After thinking about it, I decided against it. It's cheaper.
We need to save it to buy meat for Cai Xiubin.
After all, you should be prepared to be beaten by a woman.