CH 47

Chapter 47: The Last Night

Yue Zhishi’s body subconsciously tensed.

So letting others borrow your lap as a pillow can make you so nervous. He couldn’t help thinking of his childhood — he seemed to have constantly slept on Song Yu’s legs, and he would always sleep particularly well.

Now that the roles were reversed, Yue Zhishi felt it was an interesting experience. At the same time, he felt a subtle sense of responsibility and didn’t dare move at all, worried Song Yu would be uncomfortable and wouldn’t be able to sleep.

He lowered his head and looked at the light hand Song Yu had rested on his knee. His fingers were very long, each joint clearly defined. It was the nicest looking hand Yue Zhishi had seen since he was a child. 

And the most important thing was — he was still wearing that old watch.

Yue Zhishi couldn’t help but have a slight sense of regret. If he’d known Song Yu would always keep wearing it, he would’ve earned more at that time and bought gege a better, more expensive watch.

The car moved calmly, but they had just entered rush hour. It was very noisy outside, so Yue Zhishi mimicked how Song Yu soothed him to sleep, placing his own hand softly onto the side of Song Yu’s face, and looked outside.

The clouds wrapped around the setting sun turned into a gentle and soft pastel orange colour. 

The sky was like a bowl of clear white fungus sweet soup, slightly yellow with a large piece of grapefruit flavoured marshmallow floating on top.

Song Yu woke up when they were close to home. He pulled off his cap and very quickly fixed up his hair before putting it back on and stretching his neck. He woke up so coincidentally that Yue Zhishi wondered if he had truly fallen asleep.

“Did you sleep well?”

Yue Zhishi’s urgent enquiry was like a newly downloaded app immediately asking for user feedback and rating. 

Song Yu only looked out the window, not looking at him.

“It was fine.”

He couldn’t really hear any tone to those words, but Yue Zhishi was already very happy despite his legs being a bit numb. 

All four of them sat together in a rare family dinner and celebrated Yue Zhishi surviving the the difficult college entrance exams. Song Jin couldn’t help but drink some alcohol, and as he ate, he started talking about Yue Zhishi’s father. His face was flushed, and he almost started crying — luckily, both Yue Zhishi and Lin Rong were there to gently calm him down, so he didn’t actually cry.

“Yue Yi would’ve died laughing if he saw you like this.” Lin Rong returned back to her seat, giving Song Jin a bowl of soup. “How old are you?”

Song Jin gave a long sigh. “The last few days, I’ve been talking to Yue Yi in my office every day, telling him to protect Le Le and to not have anything bad happen. Everything needed to go smoothly.”

His office desk still held a photo of the two of them, taken during high school. 

Hearing this, Song Yu asked, without any expression on his face, “Did he talk back to you?”

Yue Zhishi cracked up, laughing until he collapsed onto Song Yu’s shoulder. “If he did, then that’ll be a spiritual photo.”

“But everything went so smoothly for you this time. It didn’t rain during your exams — really such good luck.” Lin Rong couldn’t help but emotionally sigh, “If Yue Yi and Olivia knew about this, they would definitely be very happy. Ah, that’s right.” Lin Rong seemed to suddenly remember something, abruptly getting up and leaving the table. She held a photo album when she came back, and the photos inside were individual photos of Yue Zhishi when he took part of that interview last time during the school celebrations.

“Look, our Le Le’s so handsome. These high points in life must always be saved.” 

Yue Zhishi ate a large piece of pork rib steamed in rice flour, and as he chewed, he said, “This can’t be considered as one of the high points in my life, I was only randomly pulled into the interview.” 

“But they only grabbed you because you were good-looking, or else why wouldn’t they also randomly interview other people?” Lin Rong gave the photo album to Song Yu, telling him to hand it to Yue Zhishi. She remembered that she’d sent him some messages on WeChat that day. “Did you see the photos I sent you of the celebrations? And your brother’s interview video?” 

Song Yu’s face obviously turned annoyed at this reminder. “Yeah.”

“You sound so perfunctory. Not only do you sneer at motherly love now, but you’re also starting to scoff at your brother?” 

Song Yu had nothing to say to this teasing, stuffing the photo album into Yue Zhishi’s hands.

Lin Rong gave Yue Zhishi a piece of stir-fried chilli ciba-style fish. “Talking about that interview, it was such a coincidence that Shen Mi was also interviewed with you. That child’s so amusing.”

“Mm.” Yue Zhishi focused on eating his fish and didn’t really respond to Lin Rong. But Song Yu — he looked at Lin Rong, frowning. “Who’s Shen Mi?”

“See, I knew you didn’t watch that video.” Lin Rong acted as if she caught him in a lie, shaking her head, and explained, “Shen Mi is that tall boy who later showed up, Le Le’s classmate after they split classes. That child’s particularly amusing. Le Le once forgot his phone on the bus when it was raining, and he ran here to give it back to him. He’s a good child.”

Song Yu was baffled and twisted his head over to ask Yue Zhishi, “You can even lose your phone?”

Yue Zhishi was a bit confused when he lifted up his head. “I… I didn’t know either. I was wearing such thick clothes in the winter, it must’ve fallen out from my pocket.”

Song Jin seemed to finally remember. “Ah, that boy. Is he the one who later came to help out at Yanghe Qizhe?” 

“Yes.” Lin Rong took a sip of her mango pomelo sago. “Shen Mi was passing by and helped me moved quite a few things. That child really knows how to talk, and his personality’s especially nice — I kept him here for dinner, and he even gave me flowers.”

Yue Zhishi didn’t really pay much attention to their conversation, only silently finishing his own bowl of sago. He looked over and realised Song Yu had barely touched his own bowl. “Gege, how come you’re not eating?”

Song Yu stayed silent for two seconds, and only then did he lower his head to finish his dessert.

After finishing dinner, Yue Zhishi and Lin Rong went downstairs together to walk the dog and help their stomachs digest. When they came back, they saw Song Jin sitting in the living room by himself, watching a basketball game.

“Where’s your son?”

“He’s been upstairs the entire time, hasn’t come down at all.” Song Jin’s eyes didn’t move from the television.

“He’s probably asleep again.” Lin Rong had been bitten a few times by mosquitoes, so she took out some ointment for herself. She pulled Yue Zhishi over, checking if he had any bites, and said, “You’re okay, they didn’t bite you. Darling, go see if Orange ate dinner yet. He doesn’t seem to be eating lately, he better not be sick.” 

Yue Zhishi nodded and wandered around the first floor a few times without seeing any signs of Orange. He’d only just gone upstairs when he saw Orange in front of the Song Yu’s room, lifting his paws and scratching the door twice — he looked as if he wanted to stand up and lean his entire body onto the door.

“Found you.”

The door wasn’t fully shut, so a small crack in the doorway appeared as soon as Orange fell onto the door. He took advantage of the space and slithered in, Yue Zhishi a step too late to catch him. Yue Zhishi could only go in and get him.

Once he got to the doorway, he saw Orange jumping onto the bed. Yue Zhishi softly called out once to Song Yu as he stood outside the door; there was no response, so he went in, realising Song Yu was sleeping in bed.

The lights weren’t turned on in the room, and it was very dark. Yue Zhishi toed off his slippers, heading in with his feet bare, and planned to leave as soon as he caught Orange. But that cat was just too sly — he snuggled straight into Song Yu’s arms. Song Yu was wearing earphones, and he truly seemed very tired as he continued sleeping very deeply.

“Come on, let’s eat dinner.” Yue Zhishi held out a little cat toy, whispering to him. He wanted to take him away, but Orange only grumbled and turned his back to him.

Yue Zhishi sighed. He stood at the side of the bed and watched Song Yu’s sleeping face for a few seconds. Moonlight slid in through the gap in the curtains, falling onto Song Yu’s face — it softened his sharp eyebrows.

He felt he couldn’t stand there in a daze for much longer, so he bent over, wanting to carry Orange out of Song Yu’s arms. But Yue Zhishi hadn’t personally carried the orange cat for a very long time — he incorrectly estimated the cat’s weight and didn’t manage to successfully pull him out. Not only that, his feet accidentally slipped on the floor, and his entire body planted onto Song Yu’s bed.

Seeing Song Yu frown and start to crack open his eyes, Yue Zhishi gave Song Yu an awkward smile without panicking. “I… I actually only wanted to take Orange away and accidentally…”

“Accidentally gifted yourself onto my bed.” Song Yu’s voice was very deep, and his arm covered his eyes.

The way he said it was very strange, but it did match what happened. 

Yue Zhishi originally wanted to get up; he should be getting up, but seeing Song Yu wasn’t angry, he wanted to stay in his bed for a bit. So he shifted forward, saying, “If you sleep now, will you be able to sleep tonight?” 

Song Yu’s eyes were covered, and Yue Zhishi couldn’t see them all — he could only stare at his lips. The corners of his mouth were very straight, his lips faintly separated. Song Yu only opened his mouth after a few seconds passed, and he said, voice carrying some lingering weariness, “It doesn’t matter.” 

“No, it’s bad to reverse your biological clock.” Yue Zhishi reached out and grabbed the arm Song Yu rested on top of his eyes. He pulled it away and then squeezed Song Yu’s palm again and again. His voice was still very soft, not daring to be noisy. “You’ve already slept for two hours. You won’t be able to sleep again if you continue sleeping.” 

His voice lilted upwards at the end, as if he was cutely whining. Song Yu didn’t open his eyes, only saying, “So your mission changed from taking Orange away to taking me away.”

Yue Zhishi laughed. “It’s pretty much the same thing.”

He was still humouring a cat. 

Song Yu tilted his face over, looking at Yue Zhishi. His voice was lazy, his words coming very slowly. “Then since you’ve woken me up, what would you like to do?”

His words held an ambiguous, teasing undertone, yet Yue Zhishi didn’t catch it at all. He directly crawled in front of Song Yu, and the distance between them shortened in one breath. 

This time, Song Yu wanted to dodge away.

“Can you go somewhere with me?” Yue Zhishi blinked, his hand still tightly holding onto Song Yu’s palm.

He must’ve still been half-asleep to agree to Yue Zhishi’s request. Song Yu was really very tired, and he really hated being woken up by other people — but if it was Yue Zhishi, his temper completely disappeared.

And the extent of his patience towards Yue Zhishi wasn’t limited to just this.

–

It was 9:30pm, and the two of them stood on the sidewalk directly across from Peiya’s school entrance, cars driving back and forth in front of them. Song Yu tugged at the uniform jacket on his body — it used to be too large, and now it fit perfectly. He asked Yue Zhishi in utter incomprehension: “Why don’t we come tomorrow? You can openly go in tomorrow and get your books.”

“But you won’t be able to go in. I already said earlier — I want to come here together with you.” Yue Zhishi’s eyes aimed directly at the entrance and saw many junior high students already coming out from their night self-study sessions. More and more people started to come out, spreading from the school to the nearby streets. Yue Zhishi took this chance and pulled Song Yu, running in the direction of the school.

“We’ll just pretend we’re junior high students who forgot something. Don’t talk, and don’t look at the security guards.”

Song Yu let him pull him along, as if he was a little fish-shaped balloon with no free will.

Even though the two of them were truly eye-catching in a crowd of people, their uniforms meant the security guards didn’t try to stop them. After they successfully sneaked their way into the school, Yue Zhishi was incredibly excited and turned around to say to Song Yu, “Hasn’t it been a long time since you came back? Does it feel like you’ve returned back to high school?”

Song Yu was as steady as he always was, only taking off his jacket and revealing the white t-shirt underneath. “This is what you want for the exams?”

“This is one of my requests.” Greed filled Yue Zhishi’s voice. He ran down the stairs, his hair lifting from the summer night breeze and his jacket rising from the wind — he was like a carefree, unrestrained bird.

As he gazed at his receding figure, Song Yu’s heart also lightened, by just a tad. 

It had been too long since he last came to Peiya. Song Yu’d thought he would find it very foreign to him, but the school still looked exactly the same. Not much had changed, except for an old school building that had been meant to be torn down; it was now a new laboratory building. All the cats that used to be here — they were now all dispersed into the myriad lights and warmth of many families. 

He’d clearly already left for three years, and yet, in that moment, Song Yu felt as if he was just here yesterday, living through busy yet simple high school days and pretending to be strangers with Yue Zhishi.

“There’s no one here, let’s go in.”

They went in against the stream of people leaving from school and arrived at the sports ground. Peiya’s sports ground was surrounded by wire mesh; the entrance was already locked, but everyone knew there was a broken side door near the Yifu teaching building. The lock had been broken long ago, and the door could only be simply closed. 

“Do you know about this door?”

“I know.” Song Yu had sometimes followed Qin Yan here during lunch to play basketball. They were only able to get in through the side door. 

He followed Yue Zhishi in — they were like two fishes escaping from the net, leaving one large mesh to slither into another smaller one. Song Yu thought ahead, out of habit. “Aren’t you worried someone will come by later and catch you?”

“There shouldn’t be, right?” Yue Zhishi always liked to leave things to chance, always thinking on the bright side. “All the third year teachers and students aren’t here today, so there’s definitely less people on patrol compared to usual. If we really do get caught, then we’ll just run. As if our long legs won’t be able to outrun shorter ones.” 

He was always able to speak with such plausibility. 

Cicadas chirped through the dreary summer night. A breeze occasionally weaved through the poplar tree forest, fluttering to the sports ground and carrying the thick, sticky air of June. Yue Zhishi walked closely to Song Yu as they arrived at the three-point line on the basketball court. He lowered his head, fixing his gaze on their shadows on the floor — the shadows were long, and they interlaced each other, the rich darkness of them touching and mingling together on the ground before separating very quickly. 

They were more intimate than the two of them in real life. 

An unfamiliar feeling surged in his heart — he couldn’t explain what it was.

“In the past, I really did want to graduate as quickly as I could. I wanted to leave this place as fast as possible.” Yue Zhishi looked at the small grove near the sports ground. “I sat on the stone stool over there every day before exams, memorising my texts. My arm was all swollen from mosquito bites, and after going back home, I needed to take some allergy meds and then continue studying.” 

He released a long sigh. “But who would’ve thought my high school life would end so quickly? I will never have it again — today is the last day.”

Seeing him like this, Song Yu slightly wanted to laugh. He paused where he was, standing in the exact centre of the basketball court, and turned his body around to look at him. “So you chose to come here specifically to kill time?” 

“This isn’t killing time…” Yue Zhishi originally wanted to protest, but since he had nothing to argue with, he could only admit to it. “Yes. That’s right. The me before today didn’t have time.” Yue Zhishi’s face tilted towards the moonlight, the wistfulness from just then mostly disappearing, and he smiled beautifully. “But the me right now does — so the first thing I want to do after exams is to throw away my time.” 

Together with you, I want to squander and throw away my last day in high school. 

Song Yu seemed to smile, not replying. For the two of them, they didn’t seem to need to always, constantly respond to each other. 

Yue Zhishi suddenly noticed something and made a noise. Song Yu thought a small animal had passed by, when actually it was basketball caught in between the basketball hoop and the backboard. 

“Someone definitely left this here to mark their spot.” Yue Zhishi ran over.

There were many boys in Peiya. With both the junior and high school departments added together, the basketball courts became a highly sought after commodity, and everyone frequently left a basketball in the courts — if a court had a ball left there, then that meant someone had preemptively already taken the spot. This had already become a long-established practice.

Yue Zhishi stood underneath the hoop, stretching out his arms and jumping up. His fingers pushed the ball down, and after catching it, he hit the ball once, the sound of it landing on the ground diffusing across the empty basketball court. 

“Can you teach me how to dunk?” Yue Zhishi threw the ball over after he asked.

Song Yu caught it very nimbly and asked why he wanted to learn.

“I always kept getting blocked, so I want to try dunking.” Yue Zhishi looked at the hoop very defiantly. “Maybe I can’t jump high enough.” 

“The move is more for show, it’s fine if you don’t know how to do it. You just need to know how to do layups — getting points is most important.” 

But Yue Zhishi wasn’t convinced by Song Yu’s pragmatism. He only wanted to dunk, so he implored Song Yu to give it a try. “You definitely know how to do it, I heard Jiang Yufan say Wuhan U’s geomatics basketball team is really strong. Aren’t you also in the team? Gege, dunk one for me to see.”

Song Yu stood there, dribbling the ball a few times. At the end, he couldn’t help but agree to do it.

He flexed his ankles and neck, and then he went forward with the ball — he jumped up with one foot, and his left arm directly grabbed onto the basket, right arm winging up to slam the ball in. The entire basketball stand wobbled.

Yue Zhishi watched in a daze. Not only did Song Yu dunk in the ball so easily, he even grabbed onto the rim.

“Song Yu gege, you’re too amazing.”

Hearing Yue Zhishi’s heartfelt praise, Song Yu had no choice but to admit he did enjoy Yue Zhishi watching him. Song Yu had become the basketball team’s point guard when he’d just entered high school; as soon as he entered the court, Song Yu usually focused only on gaining points, his ears completely blocking out the sound of everyone else — unless he knew Yue Zhishi was watching. 

The two of them at that time had no interactions at school. Yue Zhishi would sometimes look on from within the crowd, but he wouldn’t be like other people yelling out Song Yu’s name.

He also wouldn’t know that every time Song Yu shot in a ball, the first person he would look at after turning around — it would always be him. 

Even though a model answer was right in front of him, dunking a ball wasn’t something that could be easily copied. Yue Zhishi tried many times, but he still couldn’t do it. He was a bit depressed, and he knelt down, tying his shoelaces once again, and prepared to try again.

Song Yu watched him try again and again and worried he would injury his Achilles tendon. “Dunking isn’t something you can learn in a day or two. You can practice your jumping and explosiveness during summer break, it’ll be easier after.” 

“Then will you stay with me as I do it?” Yue Zhishi stood back up and very straightforwardly said, “I want to play basketball together with you. I’ve never played with you before.” 

When he entered junior high, Song Yu was already an unprecedented star in the basketball team — but no one knew he was Song Yu’s little brother, so he couldn’t cling next to him. After everyone learned of their relationship, Song Yu had already entered his third year of high school and departed the basketball team.

He stayed at Peiya for six years, and yet he was only able to stand on the same court and play basketball with Song Yu on his last day.

Song Yu turned his face away as he saw the regret on Yue Zhishi’s face. He gazed at the moon. “We can talk about it later.”

And then, he softly added, “If I have time, it’s not like I can’t.” 

Every time Song Yu spoke in double negatives, it was to cover up and obscure his awkward and troublesome true heart.

Yue Zhishi was already very satisfied at receiving such an inconclusive promise from his gege. Since he was already handling the ball, he took the chance to try shooting three-pointers, and his accuracy wasn’t too bad.

“Ah.”

Song Yu glanced at him after hearing Yue Zhishi sigh. He asked, looking as if he wasn’t really paying attention: “What’s wrong?”

Yue Zhishi dribbled the ball to the bottom of the basket and lifted a hand to shoot the ball in; he immediately picked it up again, holding the ball against his hip with his arm. “The last day before graduating, Yue Zhishi’s Peiya basketball dunking record remains at zero.” 

Lifting his head to gaze at the hoop, Yue Zhishi shrugged in self-defeat. “Forget about it, let’s save this for…”

He was abruptly lifted into the air before he could finish speaking. His feet suddenly left the ground, and Yue Zhishi was startled enough that his voice shifted higher in fear. He almost didn’t manage to hold on to the ball. “Ge, what are you doing!”

Song Yu murmured, don’t move, and walked forward step by step, hugging his legs, until he finally stood still in front of the basketball hoop.

“Shoot.” His voice remained soft, as if the person doing something so unusual wasn’t him.

“Ah?” Yue Zhishi looked at the hoop right in front of him. He was a bit confused, and when he looked down, he saw Song Yu curve his head at him as he continued holding onto him, as if he was questioning why he wasn’t moving.

So he took action — as he hung in midair, he dunked the ball in his hand into the basket in a position he’d never once thought of being in. 

“Two points.” Song Yu spoke like an impartial referee, but his actions were so biased and off-centre he was almost at the Antarctic Circle. He relaxed his hands and let go of the confused and dazed Yue Zhishi.

But this was cheating.

Dong——

Dong——

The basketball fell down, Yue Zhishi’s heart still floating in the night sky.

Song Yu stood in front of him and raised an eyebrow. “Student Yue Zhishi in Peiya’s high school year 3, class 10.”

Yue Zhishi lifted his head at being called. He saw a smile touch the corners of Song Yu’s mouth.

“Dunking record, plus one.”