“It’s too late to kill them all,” said Xiaokai. “We’ve already turned in the information. If any of them were to suddenly die, they police will definitely look into it.”

Xingyu didn’t move. Weiran waited for him to say something—anything—but he said nothing at all. When finally he moved, he simply stood, walked to the bathroom, and closed the door behind himself.

“Xiaokai,” said Weiran in a low voice. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Xiaokai lifted his shoulder and a corner of his mouth. “I told you he had to know sooner or later. I also told you it doesn’t bother me if people know. It’s this,” he said, gesturing to the bathroom door where Weiran could hear Xingyu emptying the contents of his stomach, “that bothers me. The reactions. I just wish I didn’t have to be the one to tell him. Either way, he was going to act differently around me, but I wanted to skip to the awkward stage.”

Weiran felt like throwing up too, if he was going to be totally honest. “Do you know why he’s so upset?”

“People don’t like what I do,” said Xiaokai. “There’s nothing to analyze.”

“He’s upset because it’s what you do,” said Weiran, “but he’s also upset because it’s you.”

Xiaokai rolled his eyes again. “He’s upset because his younger brother’s side job was fucking people.”

“He’s upset because it’s you, because you’re getting hurt, and because you clearly don’t have a healthy perspective on this.”

“What the hell would be a healthy perspective?” Xiaokai was more than just annoyed at this conversation, but Weiran felt almost relieved that he was at least getting upset at something. It wasn’t often that he saw Xiaokai get upset, even though Xiaokai had plenty to be upset about. “What do you want me to do? How do you want me to react? Do you want me to cry myself to sleep every night? Do you want me to complain about it constantly? It won’t change anything.”

“You were robbed of your chance to have a healthy perspective,” Weiran said, and Xiaokai laughed in his face.

“Just drop it, Weiran.”

“I’m not going to drop it. You have to confront how you affect people at some point.”

Xiaokai’s eyebrows drew together. He looked at Weiran, incredulous. “So I’m supposed to feel guilty about making other people feel bad?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”