Night’s Nomenclature

Volume one: Night’s First Chapter—Sonata.

…

Autumn of 2022.

Tiny raindrops sprinkled down from the gray, mushy sky, gently landing on the city streets.

In the autumn afternoon, one can see pedestrians without umbrellas quickly passing by with their hands over their heads.

In the narrow Junmin Alley, a seventeen-year-old boy was sitting across from an old man under a canopy next to a small store’s outdoor tables.

Outside, the world was made dark and gloomy by the rain, leaving only the small patch of ground under the canopy dry.
It was almost as if this was the very last piece of land left in the entire world.

In front of them was a dilapidated wooden chessboard, and on top of them was a red sign with the words “Fulai Supermarket”1.

“Checkmate,” said the boy as he stood up, leaving the old man, who was almost bold, staring at the chessboard2 in a daze.

The boy, Qing Chen, glanced at the other side and calmly said, “There’s no point in struggling anymore.”

“I can still…” said the old man unwillingly, “it’s only been thirteen moves into the game…”

In his words, the old man was embarrassed at how badly he was beaten in chess after just thirteen moves.

Qing Chen didn’t explain anything.
The murderous intentions were clearly revealed from the placement of the chess pieces, and it would only be a matter of another move before a giant massacre.

The boy’s face was clean and his eyes were clear.
He was wearing a plain school uniform as if he was purifying the world around him to be a little more transparent.

The old man threw the chess piece in his hands onto the chessboard, admitting his defeat.

As if he was the only one here, Qing Chen walked behind the store’s counter and took out a 20 yuan bill3 from the change basket, placing the money into the pocket.

“I lose 20 yuan because of you every day! This morning, I just won 20 from Lao Li, and now it’s in your pocket already!”

After taking the money, Qing Chen returned to his seat next to the chessboard and started placing back the chess pieces, “If it isn’t because none of them are willing to play with me again, I won’t be coming to you so frequently.
You want your reputation, and I need my money.
It’s fair and square.”

“So you are determined to hunt me down, aren’t you?” murmured the old man, “The fortune teller said that I can live to seventy-eight years old, and I’m only fifty right now.
If I lose 20 yuan to you every day, how much money will that be?”

“I don’t just take your money for nothing,” replied Qing Chen calmly, “You get to keep your reputation, so it isn’t a bad deal.”

“But all the ones you taught for the past few days are useless,” complained the old man.

Qing Chen glanced at him, “You don’t have to be so harsh to yourself.”

Old man: “???”

The old man irritably re-arranged the chessboard and then eagerly said, “Fine, let’s just do the replay.”

Suddenly, Qing Chen lowered his head.

Everything that had happened just then was being repeated in his mind.

The cannon that came straight from ahead, the fierce pawns crossing the border… every move was being echoed in his head.

Not only that…

He also remembered the man that walked past them when they were playing chess.
He was holding four sesame pancakes, which were still steaming hot, covering the thin plastic bag with a white mist.

There was a girl that walked by holding an umbrella; she was wearing a pair of leather shoes with two beautiful butterflies decorated on the top.

The crystal clear raindrops were still falling from the gray sky.

At the end of the alley, the Route 103 bus quickly went past by, and a woman in a cream-colored rain jacket quickly rushed toward the bus station.

The sound of footsteps and the sound of running water accumulating by the roadside all made the world seem extremely quiet.

Qing Chen didn’t even leave out the slightest detail, but it was quite difficult.

However, difficult didn’t mean impossible.

His weird photographic memory was Qing Chen’s innate talent.
To him, it was as easy