CH 88

Chapter 88: Approaching Winter

Yue Zhishi no longer wanted to sleep after hearing that question.

Guessing Song Yu wouldn’t answer it, he thought carefully about how he should answer.

Up to now, he and Song Yu were still in a secret relationship that couldn’t be exposed. Yue Zhishi hadn’t — and couldn’t — tell anyone he knew that he was Song Yu’s lover. It would be even more inappropriate to give that answer to a girl who was similar to being a matchmaking partner for Song Yu, especially since that girl was the daughter of Song Yu’s supervisor. It was likely to implicate Song Yu’s studies.

“I’ve lived in his home since I was a child.”

Yue Zhishi’s answer was a bit overly brief, so Zhang Siyun was naturally curious. “Eh? Why?” 

“Because my parents have passed away, and…. When my dad was still alive, he and Song Yu’s father were good friends.” 

“Jesus. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ask that on purpose.” 

Yue Zhishi could see the dismay on Zhang Siyun’s face, as well as a subtle touch of sympathy. There was a complicated mix of feelings in Yue Zhishi’s heart.

“It’s fine, it’s nothing serious. They passed away when I was still very young, so I don’t really remember them anymore.” 

In order to reduce someone else’s guilt, he said some dishonest words and did his best to maintain the smile on his face. And yet he also didn’t want to be taken as an adopted younger brother, so he said, “But I only live with his family, I’m not legally related to them. Song Yu and I, we… we’re just two people who’ve grown up together.” 

His usage of ‘just’ was targeted towards his first sentence — he selfishly didn’t want Zhang Siyun to think he truly was Song Yu’s little brother. But the entirety of Yue Zhishi’s answer, to Song Yu’s ears, was as though he was clarifying something unpleasant.

Song Yu was gazing out the car. The leaves had all been blown up into the sky from the strong winds, and they were floating, adrift; they couldn’t fall to the ground no matter how they struggled. 

He didn’t know whether he wanted them to land, or if he hoped for them to remain forever flying.

“I see, no wonder he takes care of you so well. I feel like the relationship between you two is particularly close, maybe even closer than some true blood related brothers.” Zhang Siyun smiled after she finished speaking, looking at Song Yu. “There really is too much traffic. It might be lunchtime by the time we reach the university — let me treat you guys to lunch, as a thank you.”

“No need,” Song Yu politely declined. “This was just a small matter.”

Zhang Siyun didn’t continue insisting on taking them to lunch, only saying very tactfully, “We can talk about it again later.”

“Oh yes, my dad told me about your graduation thesis. I hear you’ve pretty much completed it already. I managed to take a look at some of your work thanks to my dad, and I’m pretty interested in your topic too…” 

She looked even more charming once she started talking about professional matters; Yue Zhishi didn’t quite understand most of the things she talked about.

In the past, Yue Zhishi would get very sleepy whenever he heard things he didn’t understand — but today, as he sat there, he was completely unable to fall asleep.

When faced with academic questions, Song Yu wouldn’t be as silent as when he was given personal questions. He essentially would answer all of them, and Zhang Siyun was someone who knew very well how to ask questions.

He didn’t seem to be awkward anymore after a few rounds of questions. Song Yu no longer spread his resentment towards Professor Zhang into the car, and he became polite yet distanced, conversing with Ms Zhang like professional colleagues. 

Yue Zhishi quietly listened. He wanted to say something but couldn’t — his major was too different. He could only follow along and praise Song Yu a few times before looking out at the congested bunch of cars; he stared at the car licence right in front of them.

“That’s very valuable,” Zhang Siyun said, not stingy in her praise of Song Yu’s innovation. 

“Someone’s done it before,” Song Yu indifferently said. “I was only following what they’ve done.”

“If you complete the later stages of the research with my dad, you’ll definitely get a lot of achievements.” Zhang Siyun leaned back into her seat and sighed, a cute tone in her voice, “Ah, as expected, smart men are the sexiest.”

As though some wind had blown in from a secret little hole, Yue Zhishi found himself a bit cold, but he was convinced only he himself felt that way. He could only shrink into his cotton clothes. He rested peacefully for a while, but he still ended up opening his eyes and asking Song Yu, his voice very weak, “Can I watch anime for a bit?”

“Didn’t you say there wasn’t a new episode?” Song Yu glanced at him. “And it’s easy to get car sick if you use your phone in the car.”

“It’s okay, I want to watch it again.” He pulled out his earbuds and put them in, saying to Zhang Siyun, “You guys can talk, I’m going to watch something.”

Yue Zhishi turned back around after seeing Zhang Siyun give him a smile; he watched the video by himself, the sound turned up very loudly. 

He’d actually watched this episode four times already. There was really nothing in it worth rewatching again, and since it was only twenty minutes long, he’d almost already memorised all the dialogue. It was such a funny, boisterous episode, and yet maybe because he’d watched it too many times, Yue Zhishi had no interest in it at all.

With his earbuds in, he could still hear the muffled, vague noises of Zhang Siyun laughing; she seemed very happy. He too wanted to know what they were talking about to make her so happy, but the other half of him put a stop to those thoughts.

One episode finished, and so he clicked onto the previous episode, pretending his video had still more to go. But Song Yu stopped the car — they had arrived.

Yue Zhishi took off his earbuds and unfastened his seatbelt. He heard Zhang Siyun suggest, “Look, since we’re already here — there’s a good western restaurant over there. They’ve been open for many years. Let me treat you guys to a meal.”

Zhang Siyun smiled as she pointed at her watch. “It’s already a bit late. It’s fine if you’re hungry, but will you let your little brother go hungry too?” 

Yue Zhishi was thinking of something else, so when he heard them talk about him, he absent-mindedly nodded. “I’m fine with anything.”

Song Yu looked at him — he didn’t want to go, so he still ended up rejecting her.

Zhang Siyun didn’t force them, taking her luggage from Song Yu. “Since you’re allowing me to owe you one meal today, I’m definitely going to think of a way to return it back to you next time.”

Before leaving, she brought up exchanging contact information. She was very smart, first adding Yue Zhishi’s details before saying to him, “Just forward your brother’s WeChat to me, my hands are so cold I don’t want to scan anymore.”

Yue Zhishi hesitated for a very long time after she left. He still ended up mutely forwarding Song Yu’s WeChat to her, locking his phone immediately afterwards.

Yue Zhishi thought Zhang Siyun truly was someone who knew very well how to chase after someone. She didn’t cling around when she knew she wasn’t wanted, understanding when to gracefully step away. Her innate self-confidence was also very attractive, as though she’d never lost before in front of others; it was why she was so sure of herself despite encountering Song Yu’s cold personality, so assured she could take things one step at a time.

If only he had her speaking skills — perhaps he wouldn’t have pestered Song Yu for so many years.

But in the next second, he consoled himself: Song Yu liked idiots.

“Are you hungry? There’s a shopping centre up ahead, there should be a few restaurants in there.”

Yue Zhishi said he wasn’t hungry, but then he also said sure, let’s go there to eat.

They entered a Thai restaurant, and Song Yu ordered as usual — but this time, Yue Zhishi ate very little and didn’t even touch his dessert and drink. 

“You don’t have a good appetite today.”

Yue Zhishi laughed. “I ate too much in the morning.” He started to list all the things he ate for breakfast.

Song Yu quietly listened until he finished, and he raised his eyes to look at him. “Are you unhappy?”

Lowering his head, Yue Zhishi took a bite of his pudding. “Not at all, I’m just carsick.” 

Song Yu paused, as if he was very seriously considering what he should say. “There’s no possibility of Ms Zhang and me going further. This was all decided by themselves without asking.” 

“I didn’t think there was,” Yue Zhishi said. His voice was so soft; it sounded like it had floated across.

He felt like Song Yu had seen through him. Even though he was already used to that happening, he didn’t want Song Yu to think he was someone who couldn’t handle something small yet annoying when it came to something like this.

He wasn’t like that anyway — an uncountable number of people had liked Song Yu since childhood, and he’d continuously heard gossip about Song Yu since junior high. He’d received love letters for him, even passing on confessions; he’d gotten used to it a long time ago.

If Zhang Siyun had asked him today to help her pursue Song Yu, Yue Zhishi would’ve still found it difficult to refuse her.

Seeing him not continuing to speak, Song Yu stayed silent for a few seconds, thinking of how Yue Zhishi had said they had just been two people who’d grown up together. He couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed, but he still gently said to Yue Zhishi, “You actually didn’t need to explain so much to her.” 

Yue Zhishi knew he was referring to the relationship between them. His head remained lowered, as though in a daze, and he only asked in return in a very subdued voice after a long while had passed, “Then what should I have done? Should I have not said anything like you — or should I have straight up and told her you were my boyfriend, please don’t show interest in you and please also ask your father to not intervene anymore?” 

“I’m not childish enough to make you come out in front of your supervisor just because of my possessiveness.” 

“Le Le…” Song Yu reached out a hand, laying it on the back of Yue Zhishi’s hand. He didn’t reject it. 

His unhappiness didn’t last for very long; after hearing Song Yu call out his name, Yue Zhishi suddenly felt he’d been too harsh. What he’d just said must’ve made Song Yu feel uncomfortable — so very quickly, he let go of his emotions. 

“I’m sorry, gege.” Yue Zhishi gave him a smile. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

His phone vibrated. Yue Zhishi checked; it was a message from Zhang Siyun.

[Monica: Handsome boy~ I just added him, thank you for coming with Song Yu today to pick me up. I’m heading to campus tomorrow, I’ll bring you something tasty!]

Yue Zhishi sent back a reply, his head lowered.

[Yue Zhishi: It’s okay, I didn’t do anything]

[Monica: No no, I need to. By the way, what kind of cakes does Song Yu like? I saw he recently had his birthday, so I wanted to give him a belated birthday cake. It should be appropriate.]

“Who are you talking to?” Song Yu asked. “Zhang Siyun?”

“Don’t talk to her,” Song Yu said. 

“It’s normal to chat a few times after adding someone.” Yue Zhishi kept his head down, giving Zhang Siyun a very succinct suggestion.

[Yue Zhishi: He doesn’t eat sweets, perhaps coffee would be more suitable.]

After finishing their food, Yue Zhishi said he wanted to head back — he had a class that afternoon.

Song Yu paid and then took Yue Zhishi back to the underground car park, hugging him for a very long time. His father called once they’d gotten into the car.

His eyebrows were drawn together the entire time he was on the phone. “We’ve dropped her off at home. No…”

It was very quiet in the car; it was as though the ability of Yue Zhishi’s ears to hear had been magnified, keenly able to catch some indistinct words. Pieced together, they seemed to be asking about Zhang Siyun’s personality. 

“You can’t understand someone’s personality just after one meeting… I don’t think it’s appropriate.” Song Yu explained into the phone, “We only talked about academic topics.”

“Mn, I know. I’m driving, I’m going to hang up.”

Once they reached the entrance to their university, Song Yu didn’t open the car doors, as though he was locking Yue Zhishi and himself into the car. He only opened his mouth after a long time had passed, saying, “Le Le, don’t be sad.”

The tone in his voice as he said that sentence made Yue Zhishi think of what Song Yu had said before: as long as you don’t get sick, you can lose your temper however you’d like.

But he didn’t think he could — let alone the fact he didn’t have much of a temper to begin with. 

“I’m not sad. Honest.” Yue Zhishi felt like his current mood couldn’t really be described as ‘sad’; compared to what he’d felt when he thought Song Yu was going to move in with someone after understanding his own heart, he was feeling much better. After all, he now knew the person Song Yu loved was him — there was no one else.

He noticed Song Yu’s phone lighting up again, Professor Zhang’s name flashing on it, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he felt a bit distressed for Song Yu; it felt like everyone was forcing him to move, step by step, and that included himself.

Yue Zhishi touched Song Yu’s arm and then leaned over the armrests in between them, giving him a soft hug. He wanted to give him some comfort.

He wanted to say he really liked him, but he hesitated — he didn’t end up saying it. 

He placed himself in Song Yu’s position, and thought: if he heard himself saying he liked him right at this very moment, it would most likely be another kind of pressure.

When compared to Song Yu being unhappy, the uneasy feeling in Yue Zhishi’s heart seemed to dwindle, turning smaller and smaller until it was almost about to disappear completely. Only a tiny fragment remained.

Song Yu calmed down, and his phone also stopped vibrating. He kissed Yue Zhishi’s face, said he really loved him; in the end, he still let go and let Yue Zhishi go to class.

Zhang Siyun came to campus the next day and sent Yue Zhishi a scenery photo she’d taken, saying afterwards that she’d bought him a cake. Yue Zhishi didn’t want to tell her about his allergy, so he still went to meet her and pick up the cake, earnestly expressing his gratitude. 

Waving her hands, Zhang Siyun smiled and told him to not be so polite. When she saw that he’d come out in his woolly home clothes, she suggested taking him back to his dorm, and the two of them walked together for a while, chatting about some things.

“Has your brother always been so serious and reserved?”

“I suppose so.” Yue Zhishi then softly said, “He’s not my brother.”

“Ah yes. I said it without thinking.” Zhang Siyun gave him a smile. “I feel like he and I have a fair bit of things in common to talk about. Maybe it’s because our studies are pretty similar that we can have conversations, but if I use you as a reference, then there’s still a long way to go before we could be considered as getting along.” 

Yue Zhishi remembered their conversation in the car and agreed with her assessment. His ability to think seemed to have grown dull; after a good few seconds, he asked, faltering, “Sister Siyun, do you like Song Yu?”

“Am I being too obvious?” Zhang Siyun slightly widened her eyes. There was a spring in her voice, and the smile on her face was so adorable. “Do you know? He really is my type. Even though he’s a bit cold, it won’t stop me — I think he’s the kind of person who’ll be really tender to you after getting into a relationship with you. Seeing how nicely he treats you, he should have a very gentle heart.”

Yue Zhishi wanted to say, yes, you’re right. But he didn’t.

Once they reached his dorm building, Yue Zhishi separated from Zhang Siyun and went up by himself, sharing the expensive-looking cake with his dorm mates.

He swiped a finger through some of the cream and tasted it. He couldn’t deny that it really was delicious.

Winter came closer and closer, and the wind scraped on faces like the edge of an invisible knife. It rained once again the last few days, and the temperature in the city rapidly dropped. Yue Zhishi really did his best to stay warm, but he still caught a stuffy nose. He was afraid of getting sick, but he realised — whatever he was afraid of would always arrive.

Other than this, he had another very profound realisation: as soon as someone noticed something and took it to heart, he would constantly, consistently, see it.

Such as seeing Zhang Siyun and Song Yu in a certain deserted cafe on campus. He saw Song Yu’s back as soon as he walked in; the two of them were sitting at the same table, saying something while face to face. They looked rather well-matched — Zhang Siyun was beautiful and straight-forward, and there was nothing wrong with the way she chose to interact with Song Yu.

Yue Zhishi stood at the door, not taking any further steps. Using the excuse of the cafe not being warm, he pulled Jiang Yufan and Shen Mi away and found another place to study.

Later, he saw a Moments post from Song Yu’s senior sister in his research lab. He’d added her earlier when he was giving out snowflake crisps.

[Feels like the lofty, unapproachable ice mountain junior brother in my research lab might soon thaw from warmth.]

And even later, he received a call from Lin Rong. She somehow saw a video of Zhang Siyun giving a speech, and she shared it with Yue Zhishi. She gave out rare compliments, saying Zhang Siyun was even more outstanding that she’d imagined.

“The daughter of a professor really is different. Right, Le Le?” 

Yue Zhishi agreed. In a bit of self despair, he even said, “She’s also really nice. She’s really pretty and really smart — she’s able to talk professional matters with gege.” 

“Then there’s still a chance. Talk to your brother a bit more, tell him not to be too cold when interacting with girls. Otherwise it’ll be really easy for the girl to feel hurt.”

Yue Zhishi could very much understand Lin Rong’s words — after all, he himself had experienced it. But he still asked, refusing to give up, “What if gege doesn’t like her?”

Lin Rong thought Song Yu had told him so. “Really, did your brother say that? Well, I think this girl’s already really nice, but this isn’t something I can interfere with. Who knows, maybe your brother might end up liking her after a while.”

Yue Zhishi didn’t say anything else.

His relationship didn’t stop just because of the sudden appearance of a girl.

They sent messages to each other every day, just like usual. They talked to each other, just like usual. They also ate and studied together, and would even hug and kiss each other in the dark corners of the campus — but Song Yu could still feel the change in Yue Zhishi.

He was now even more understanding and obedient than before. He didn’t ask anything about Zhang Siyun, didn’t show any signs of unhappiness; he actively shared with Song Yu any jokes he’d heard or interesting things that had happened to him, and when they were intimate with each other, his actions were as though he was submitting to Song Yu what little energy he had.

Song Yu urged him to live in the apartment with him, and Yue Zhishi readily agreed. But he never slept well.

Whenever Yue Zhishi was sleeping very deeply, his whole body would be very relaxed; he’d sleep on Song Yu’s arm without a single qualm. But he hadn’t done so, recently — he would adjust his sleeping position very carefully, his breathing light and delicate.

In the mornings, Song Yu would kiss his forehead and ask how he’d slept; Yue Zhishi would purse his lips and smile, his eyes curving, and say with a sincere look on his face that he’d slept very well — and then he’d hold Song Yu in his arms, as though extremely afraid he’d lose him.

Whenever they were around other people and someone made a joke about him and Zhang Siyun, calling her the ‘newly arrived beautiful lady’, Yue Zhishi would also nod. He’d echo and say she truly was very beautiful. Yet in the empty corners, in the apartment with just the two of them, Yue Zhishi would hold him again and again, unceasingly pressing close to him and even initiating things — as though hoping he could obtain and prove something through their intimate touches.

Since the very start of his adolescence, Song Yu had wanted to have Yue Zhishi. But he hadn’t wanted a Yue Zhishi like this.

During a Monday team meeting, Professor Zhang called Song Yu a ‘family member’ in front of everyone. It made him so very uncomfortable, and he immediately left the meeting, using the excuse of needing the bathroom.

He wanted to vomit.

All of this made him unable to breathe. It felt like he was captured inside a massive net while Yue Zhishi was stranded outside, lost and fearful. If only Yue Zhishi was a bit more impulsive and either complained or thrown a tantrum at him — Song Yu wouldn’t have felt distressed even if he did so.

Except in reality, on the second time Zhang Siyun had come to campus, Song Yu had already politely yet explicitly expressed to her that he wasn’t planning on getting into a relationship.

She’d gone to the research lab her first time on campus; Song Yu couldn’t stop her, since that was her father’s research lab.

But there was no way he could put up with forced meetings and forced arrangements. 

There were some things Song Yu wanted to clear up face to face, but Zhang Siyun felt like they should speak in a place suitable for a conversation — such as a cafe on campus.

“You speak in such absolutes, as if to you, dating is something that needs to be planned out.” After hearing Song Yu’s words, Zhang Siyun didn’t feel very disappointed. She even chuckled, her fingers wrapped around a silver spoon as she lightly stirred the coffee in front of her. Her eyes, though, were focused on Song Yu, who was sitting across from her.

“You guessed correctly. I really do like you. So you can actually reject me even more frankly — you don’t look like someone who would speak in such a roundabout way.”

“But…” Zhang Siyun propped her cheek on a hand, “since you’re single, I should still have a chance to pursue you.”

“I’m not single,” Song Yu calmly said. His voice was firm. “I have a partner, and I love him very much — I really care about what he thinks.” 

Zhang Siyun’s movements paused, as though considering something. She tried to find a single shred of evidence on Song Yu’s face to prove he was lying, but she couldn’t. Song Yu was as resolute as though he could only see one person for his entire life, his passion unceasing.

“So that’s how it is.” She smiled generously. “Then I’ll temporarily shelve my plans to pursue you and be an honest friend. Even though I’m truly really curious about what kind of girl you like, I feel like you wouldn’t want to talk too much about her.”

She brushed away the long hair on her shoulders, a painted finger lightly tapping on the table. “Song Yu, you wouldn’t be dating a girl your parents wouldn’t like, would you? They should be completely in the dark about your relationship, or how else would I have gotten involved?” 

“Do you really not plan on laying things out and telling your parents?”

Song Yu had wanted to wait until later, or at least until after he’d graduated — until after he’d confirmed again and again that Yue Zhishi wouldn’t feel regret because of him.

But now, he himself started to feel a tinge of regret.

He wanted to make themselves known at this very moment, but how should Yue Zhishi handle himself afterwards? Could he trust the person in front of him?

It was such an untimely, unwelcome memory, but Song Yu thought of Xu Qichen in the past; he could feel stabbing, stinging pain in his chest.

He was afraid of Yue Zhishi receiving even the tiniest, the smallest bit of harm.

Seeing him fall silent, Zhang Siyun said with a bit of incomprehension, “In a secret relationship, your partner will end up hurt no matter what. It doesn’t matter how much you care for them; you can’t prevent your parents from matchmaking. Such as me.” 

She recalled how Song Yu had icily called her Ms Zhang the first time they’d met. She found how he’d acted particularly reasonable now — no man would be willing to put up with his parents and professor forcing him to meet another girl when he had a partner. Especially when that man was someone like Song Yu, a proud and haughty man favoured by the heavens.

She couldn’t help but laugh, and then she released a sigh. “Song Yu, someone as excellent as you will always have people chasing after you. After rejecting a Ms Zhang, there might be a Ms Wang, Ms Li or even a Ms Yang. How many rounds of this can your girlfriend endure?” 

The author has something to say:

After returning to school, Song Yu was forced to see Ms Zhang for a total of two times. The first time, Ms Zhang went to the research lab (he couldn’t avoid her there no matter what), and the second time was when he rejected Ms Zhang at the cafe.

Le Le bumped into their second meeting. Actually, the pain and provocation he’s been suffering have mainly been from the people around him, but those people haven’t meant to do so — they don’t know the truth.

My books have never been tagged with the ‘sweet’ tag. From the side characters getting outed and then being bullied at school in the beginning, to the fashion show in the rain a few chapters ago, everyone should understand that this isn’t a book where homosexuality is openly accepted and treated as normal. It’s similar to our world — coming out isn’t so simple. 

Also, I’ve written in the introduction that this book doesn’t have a strong shou. I don’t know why there are still arguments about it by the time we’ve reached this chapter. I really don’t understand.

Le Le’s character has never been someone ‘completely optimist and self-confident’. If you think he is, I think there might be a misunderstanding. He’s very happy on the surface, but he lacks a sense of security. He needs a very strong intimate dependency. He’s clung to gege since he’s been a child and even went to gege’s university to look for him. He had separation anxiety, and he broke down after liking gege. He even is somewhat touch starved at certain times, endlessly demanding gege’s touch. All of these things together is the true Yue Zhishi below the surface. Why is he like that? It’s very simple. Because other than himself, Yue Zhishi has nothing else. 

Can a foster family keep him his entire life? Can love remain forever? It’s very hard to say.

Can someone with so little have the confidence to reject other people whenever he wants? That’s so hard to do — and so Yue Zhishi is always the one satisfying other people. No matter if it’s his friends, or his lover.

He can talk about death so openly because he thinks it’s something very easy to talk about. Accidents are hard to predict; that’s how his parents died. And so he really cherishes the Song family — they are a treasure that he managed to get, yet they don’t belong to him. The more warmth and love he is given, the more insecure he feels. It would’ve been fine if he didn’t have any to begin with, but as soon as he’s given the smallest amount, he becomes very afraid of losing it.

I’ve seen some people say that if his parents hadn’t died, he should’ve been someone as confident as Ms Zhang. Yes, having parents versus not having parents makes a very large difference. If Yue Zhishi had his parents, then he would’ve had particularly outstanding credentials. With his father as a famous journalist and his mother so kind and gentle, he would’ve grown up with love and care, and with his loveable face and personality, his talents and abilities, he would’ve had a very perfect life. 

But the brutal thing is, he wasn’t able to become such a person. All the things he’s missed out on has left a crack down his life. 

Sensitive, considering others more than himself, kind and naive, and even sometimes treating himself very cruelly — that is Yue Zhishi.