Chapter 36: The Awakening of Feelings
They were too close.
Yue Zhishi didn’t get the chance to answer Song Yu’s question when guilt and panic pulled his body into retreating, and he stumbled over the higher step behind him, his entire body falling backwards.
But Song Yu reached out, grabbed his arm and tugged him forward before he could fall. Yue Zhishi was like a wobbly toy without any free will, tilting to and fro, before he finally fell headlong into Song Yu’s arms.
“What’s wrong with you?” Song Yu asked, frowning.
Yue Zhishi extracted himself from his arms without thanking him at all, and then retreated a few times to stand on an even higher step. He spoke a bit unsteadily. “I’m fine.”
Song Yu stood in place, gazing steadily at him as if he was trying to decide whether he was speaking the truth.
Yue Zhishi wasn’t acting like he normally did at all. He had no way to explain to his gege why he was acting so differently, so he simply gave up and crouched down. He hid his face in his knees and used another reason to cover up his peculiar behaviour. “I accidentally drank a little bit of someone else’s beer. I feel a bit sick.”
Hearing this, much of the suspicion still lingering in Song Yu’s heart disappeared. He crouched down as well and took Yue Zhishi’s wrist, flipping it over to check if he had any rashes — none. If Yue Zhishi said it was an accident, then Song Yu would never think otherwise.
“How much did you drink?”
Still keeping his face buried in his knees, Yue Zhishi shook his head. “Not much, just a sip.”
The wrist Song Yu was holding felt like it was burning, the heat creeping up his arm and into his chest like a snake. A light layer of sweat appeared on his back. He wanted to pull his arm away, but he also wanted to stay in this same position, wanted to continue being held like this — he even wanted to be hugged again like before.
Having all these contradictory feelings felt too strange. But when he thought about what he’d just seen in the karaoke bar, Yue Zhishi subconsciously started to panic.
A certain kind of possibility for himself he’d never thought of extended in front of his eyes, and that possibility was something completely different from everyone else. It was an untimely thought, but he thought of the reactions of all the other boys after they saw the two men together — all of them, without even thinking about it, openly mocked and ridiculed the video without the slightest hint of trying to cover up their distaste.
Only he was different.
Why couldn’t he laugh about it?
“Go home.” Song Yu released his wrist and patted his hand. “Take some allergy meds later.”
Yue Zhishi raised his head, his face now even redder after stuffing it into his knees. “Are you going home too?”
Song Yu nodded at him. “It’s quite boring.”
“Then why’d you come?”
The look on Song Yu’s face slightly shifted. When faced with Yue Zhishi’s uninhibited and straight-forward questions, he’d learned a very long time ago how to change the topic. He stood up by himself. “Are you coming?”
“Yes.” Without hesitating, Yue Zhishi stood up as well, but then he remembered his merchandise was still on the table in the karaoke bar. He told Song Yu he was going to go back and get it.
Song Yu didn’t say anything, only wordlessly following behind him. The large room for the junior high year three students was at the very end of the first floor, while the high school year three’s room was on the second floor. Song Yu initially hadn’t wanted to go in, but when he thought about the beer Yue Zhishi had accidentally drank, he guessed there should be some students who didn’t really follow rules. He decided to go in with Yue Zhishi.
As expected, Yue Zhishi caught even more attention when he returned bringing his older brother. The atmosphere in the karaoke bar was obviously very different compared to school, and everyone kicked up a fuss with even more enthusiasm.
“Yo, Le Le, your brother’s here to take you home?”
“Your family’s so strict.”
Song Yu’s face stayed icily still, and he didn’t say a single thing. Yue Zhishi noticed the boys who’d pulled him to watch the video earlier had now returned to this room, and they were now busy singing. He was a bit afraid of being caught by them again, so he rushed to the corner he’d sat in earlier.
Jiang Yufan was still sitting there, playing a video game with someone, and he looked up at him just as Yue Zhishi arrived. “Hey, you’re back. They said you went to the toilet.”
“I’m going home now, my ge’s here.” Yue Zhishi grabbed his merchandise. “You should go home soon too.”
Jiang Yufan nodded a few times. “I’ll leave after this round. Come out tomorrow for some basketball.”
“Sure!” Yue Zhishi swiftly ran away, worried Song Yu would feel uncomfortable staying here for too long and worried those boys would catch him to do some weird things again.
Song Yu left the room a bit earlier than he did, his phone vibrating.
[Qin Yan: handsome guy are you coming back?]
Head lowered, Song Yu typed a reply.
[SYU: I’m going home.]
[Qin Yan: ?? you’re too funny, you didn’t want to come earlier but then you suddenly changed your mind. and then you ran out after staying just for a little bit without singing a single song. while other people are the kings of karaoke, you are the king of standing people up]
That joke wasn’t really all that funny. Song Yu didn’t smile, and for a moment, he also didn’t know how to respond.
He too felt his desire to protect was too intense.
Yue Zhishi came out holding his beloved merchandise and walked towards the bus station with Song Yu. He discovered that many things were like when you couldn’t sleep and lay in bed counting sheep — the more you counted, the more you couldn’t fall asleep. Right now, the more he told himself not to think about it, the more that video flashed in front of his eyes, making him very unsettled.
Buses took longer to arrive at night, so they waited, standing shoulder to shoulder. Neither of them said anything, and cars continuously drove past them on the road. Having not eaten dinner, Yue Zhishi’s stomach made a noise, and the air around them turned even more awkward.
But Song Yu didn’t think it was strange. He told Yue Zhishi to wait there, and then not long after, he came back with a red bean and matcha daifuku and a small container of ice cream, giving them to Yue Zhishi.
The bus arrived. They got on, only a young man wearing earphones sleeping in the back of the bus. The two of them swiped their cards and sat in the very last row of double seats. Yue Zhishi opened the daifuku, swallowing it in two bites, and opened the ice cream to slowly relish it.
His attention would always subconsciously shift to his food whenever he ate.
Song Yu held onto his merchandise for him and looked at it for a little bit. “You went to the dinner party for this?”
“Yeah.” Yue Zhishi didn’t try to pretend at all, even saying this was his most desired piece of merchandise. “Actually there was a Naruto one too, but it’s been sold out already. I’m going to stalk Xianyu and see how my luck goes.”
Song Yu soundlessly sighed, thinking there was an actual possibility of Yue Zhishi one day running off with someone just for a piece of anime merchandise.
The ice cream was also matcha-flavoured. Yue Zhishi thought Song Yu might like it, so he scooped up a little bit on his spoon and placed it next to his mouth only for Song Yu to reject it. Yue Zhishi could only finish it all by himself, and he happily put the empty container into the bag from the convenience store. The ice cream lowered the heat in Yue Zhishi’s body, but some peculiar feelings still remained in his heart.
He realised he didn’t dare to reflect, to look carefully into what he was feeling — as if he was afraid he’d learn something.
The awakening of adolescence was like a restless wisdom tooth slowly preparing to appear: it was hidden in the deepest part of oneself. That kind of existence was faint at best but impossible to ignore, making you always want to lick it, touch it with your tongue. But there was never any clear response.
Anxiety, curiosity, panic, awe — all these emotions were buried and waiting in dark and soft flesh, and there was no way for you to have any accurate predictions.
You wait and look forward to it appearing, and yet you’re also afraid of the aching pain that may arrive at any moment.
Song Yu sat next to him, having put on his earphones when Yue Zhishi wasn’t paying attention. The bus continued swaying forward, and the handsome side of his face was reflected on the window. When neon lights flashed by and across that reflection, it created an almost unreal sense of beauty.
Yue Zhishi gazed at the glass window, and the kind of curiosity a younger person held towards an older person sprouted in his heart.
“Song Yu gege.” He leaned his head over.
Song Yu took off one of his earphones and met his eyes.
“Have you watched those kinds of videos before?” Yue Zhishi’s face and voice revealed how shy he was at asking this question, but it was like he was worried Song Yu wouldn’t understand what he was saying. He especially clarified, “The kind that’s not suitable for children.”
Song Yu drew his eyebrows together. “What are you asking this for?”
This time, Yue Zhishi wasn’t distracted by Song Yu’s counter question. He persistently asked, “Have you?”
Song Yu stayed quiet for a few seconds, and then he lifted his hand to put his earphone back in, looking like he wasn’t going to answer his question. Yue Zhishi hurriedly pressed down on the hand holding the earphone. “I’m just curious.”
“Why are you curious?” Song Yu stared at him, eyes sharp.
Yue Zhishi didn’t dodge away from Song Yu’s eyes, but it took him two seconds to open his mouth. “A few boys took me to watch one earlier.”
He was originally a bit scared of how Song Yu would react, but his reaction was much calmer than he imagined. “And then?”
Song Yu raised an eyebrow, his face still smooth with not much expression. “Did you like it?”
Yue Zhishi lowered his eyes and mumbled, “It was okay.” He didn’t dare say what he later saw, only telling Song Yu the first half of what happened. “I actually didn’t see all that clearly. The boys were all crowded together over such a small phone screen, and they were laughing so loudly. They all said the woman’s body was really good, but I couldn’t tell. She was really pale, a foreigner, and the man…”
“He wasn’t good-looking at all. He had a messy beard.” Yue Zhishi flicked his eyes upwards, quickly glancing at Song Yu and looking like a puppy pressed against the corner of a wall after doing something wrong. But the words that came out of his mouth were so direct they could make someone laugh: “He wasn’t as good-looking as you.”
A confused expression appeared on Song Yu’s face. “Why are you comparing him to me? Do you think I’ll be really happy to hear you say I look better than a porn actor?”
Yue Zhishi was also a bit uncertain, but he very quickly found a reason. “Because you’re here. And you really are good-looking.”
Song Yu was made speechless by his words. The bus announced the current stop, and as if waking up from a dream, Yue Zhishi pushed his shoulder to get off the bus.
“Don’t hang around with those people in the future. You’ll only be led astray,” Song Yu sternly warned him.
But even if he didn’t say so, Yue Zhishi already knew this. He may not have been brought up as strictly as under an iron hand, but his upbringing had always guided him towards a good direction, to the point even Yue Zhishi himself didn’t like how it’d felt to be around that group of people.
And not only that, he always subconsciously felt that if he really did head down the wrong path, Song Yu might be disgusted by him.
As they walked along the street, the summer wind blew towards their faces. There were many busy barbecue shops along the road with their tables scattered outside, one leaning against another. People sat outside and chatted as they ate their late night snacks. Song Yu’s voice was slightly lost in the midst of such a loud environment, but it no longer sounded as stern. “It’s very normal to start becoming sexually aware. You’ve already grown up.”
Yue Zhishi didn’t know how to continue this conversation, so he didn’t utter a single sound. They walked past the area with all the late night food stalls, and the noise started to quiet down, leaving behind only the chirping of the late night cicadas. Their shadows lengthened under the dim yellow light of the street lamps, stretching until they merged together.
With his head down, Yue Zhishi heard Song Yu ask, “You didn’t feel anything else after watching the video?”
He didn’t know why Song Yu changed the topic again. He resolutely said, “No.”
Song Yu didn’t insist on asking anything further, and the two of them walked in silence until they reached the lift to their home. Song Yu pressed the button, and as they waited, Song Yu once again quietly said, “You don’t need to feel ashamed about these things. Even if you felt something or had some sort of reaction while you were watching, it’s all very normal. It’s instinctive for humans to have reproductive desire. You can be curious, and you can actively try to understand it — as long as you don’t do anything you shouldn’t be doing just because of your curiosity.”
In reality, Song Yu didn’t want to act as a mentor in this area. He forcefully pretended to be indifferent as he took care of this situation — but it was only because he didn’t want Yue Zhishi to be embarrassed because of it.
In reality, he wasn’t too willing to imagine how Yue Zhishi looked like when he watched that video.
“Sex isn’t shameful. Only when you face it directly can you treat it as it should be treated: correctly.”
On one hand, Song Yu hoped his little brother could properly handle the awakening of his sexual awareness, but on the other hand, he felt as if he didn’t really have the right qualification to lead him. After all, his intentions and thoughts were what everyone considered to be ‘incorrect’. This kind of contradictory feeling went against all logical thinking, and Song Yu was tired, trapped as he learned how to properly fulfil the responsibilities of an older brother.
“It’s all very normal. No need to be nervous.”
Thinking how Yue Zhishi could say these things to him without a single shred of worry, Song Yu kept feeling more and more that he should remain in his current position and be a good older brother.
Yue Zhishi mulled over Song Yu’s words, and the burden in his heart felt lighter. But the thing he was too embarrassed to say seemed to be two separate things compared to what Song Yu said — the degree of it was different, and the direction was also different.
But maybe it was the same kind of reasoning, he tried to convince himself.
But if Song Yu really did learn that he had a stronger reaction to a video with two men in it, would he still be able to say these things to him in such a calm manner?
Yue Zhishi couldn’t tell.
The elevator doors opened, and maybe because of something being transported in the lift earlier, but some dust flew down the moment the doors opened. Yue Zhishi was standing right in front, and he breathed the dust in and was unable to stop from coughing.
“Are you okay?” Song Yu pressed the button for their floor. He wasn’t as sensitive to smells as Yue Zhishi. He didn’t feel there was anything unusual in the lift, so he unconsciously lowered his head to check if his body still smelled like cigarette smoke. Seeing this, Yue Zhishi shook his head, steadied his breathing, and said to Song Yu, “It’s not the smell from your body. Some dust just fell down.”
Song Yu’s tone sounded a bit unnatural as he realised Yue Zhishi noticed what he was doing. “I just didn’t want to smell like smoke. It stinks.”
“A little bit. But I don’t know why…” Yue Zhishi leaned against the elevator wall. After coughing, his pale face was tinged with red, his eyes slightly wet, and yet his voice and gaze were sincere.
“But if it’s on you, the smoke smells really nice.”
The author has something to say:
Le Le, my darling child, you can’t be such a tease…