For once, Fang Chi actually made it to second period, but he still got dragged out into the hallway by Old Li for a long scolding.
“This is the last time!” Old Li said sternly. “Before break you’re not allowed to take any more leave! Next semester too!”
“Oh.” Fang Chi nodded.
When Old Li finally left, he went back into the classroom. As soon as he sat down, Liang Xiaotao leaned over. “Well? How was it? Fun?”
“Same as always,” Fang Chi said.
Every time he went somewhere new as a guide, Liang Xiaotao would ask the same thing when he came back, and he always gave the same answer. She never gave up asking anyway.
“There’s something,” Liang Xiaotao lowered her voice, “about Xiao Yiming, do you want to hear it?”
Fang Chi paused before responding, “Hm?”
“Well,” Liang Xiaotao glanced behind her quickly, then turned back, “yesterday Xiao Yiming got jumped by some of those Class Six guys. Xu Zhou and the others rushed over but didn’t catch them.”
“Again?” Fang Chi frowned, turning his head back. Xiao Yiming was bent over his test paper, his hand wrapped in gauze.
“They didn’t get him last time, so they had to finish the job! Bunch of animals!” Liang Xiaotao muttered, voice low. “Who knows if they’re really homophobic warriors or just bored out of their minds…”
Fang Chi shot her a look. She waved her hand. “I’m not talking about you.”
“I know,” Fang Chi said.
“Xiao Yiming didn’t fight back, otherwise this wouldn’t have ended so ‘cleanly.’” Liang Xiaotao clicked her tongue twice. “If I were a guy, I’d smash a chair over their heads!”
“You’re not a guy now and you’ve still done some smashing,” Fang Chi chuckled.
He didn’t want to sleep through class today, but he hadn’t gotten enough rest the night before. As soon as the teacher started droning, his head wanted to hit the desk in rhythm.
At noon he didn’t even eat, planning to nap instead, but then worried about Chief Huang, he rushed home.
Turns out Chief Huang hadn’t noticed his two-day absence at all. The moment Fang Chi stepped through the door, the cat flipped the feeder over again, already on the ground once.
After cleaning up the mess, he hurried back to school and only managed a ten-minute nap.
By the time he dragged himself into the afternoon, just when he thought he could snooze a bit during self-study, the chemistry teacher marched in to go over the test paper.
Fang Chi figured he must be cursed to be sleep-deprived for life.
He hadn’t even finished the paper, but while the teacher was explaining, he realized with surprise that the problems Sun Wenqu had solved for him, all of them were right.
Holy sh*t.
Someone who had been out of high school for at least ten years, casually solving mock exam questions?
Fang Chi’s drowsiness nearly vanished. How had someone like that not gotten into college?
Did he fail?
Or was it, in Sun Wenqu’s style, more like: one wave of the hand, I don’t feel like taking it, end of story.
What a free and easy way to live.
During the last period, Fang Chi’s stomach kept growling. He wasn’t sure if it was hunger or fatigue. A couple of growls were so loud even Liang Xiaotao heard them and laughed at him with her head on the desk.
Probably he’d eaten too much the past two days. Every time his grandparents saw him, they fed him like he was a pig, and no matter how much he ate, he couldn’t break free of the pen. His stomach must’ve stretched out.
As soon as school ended, he bolted out of the classroom, desperate for food.
At the school gate, he saw those guys from Class Six again, this time with a few from another school, loitering across the street. No idea what they were planning.
He looked back. Xu Zhou and Xiao Yiming were just coming out together. Fang Chi hesitated, then stopped walking.
“Still not over, huh!” Xu Zhou flared up the second he saw them. He spun on his heel to go back inside. “F*ck it, I’m calling in backup.”
“No need,” Xiao Yiming grabbed his arm. “It’s over.”
“You sure?” Xu Zhou asked.
“Sure,” Xiao Yiming said, glancing at Fang Chi before lowering his head and walking out the gate.
The guys across the street didn’t make a move. Looked like it was settled.
“Want me to drive you today?” Xu Zhou nudged Fang Chi. “I’ll grab my car.”
“I’ll walk back,” Fang Chi said, and followed Xiao Yiming from a distance.
Two streets later, Xiao Yiming would have to turn left. Fang Chi bit his lip, sped up, and called out from behind: “Hey.”
Xiao Yiming turned, surprised when he saw him. “Fang Chi?”
Fang Chi walked up, but for a long moment said nothing.
“It’s not a big deal,” Xiao Yiming smiled, knowing Fang Chi got tongue-tied when emotional. “It’s already handled.”
“Oh.” Fang Chi finally answered.
Xiao Yiming waited a couple seconds, then, seeing he wasn’t going to say more, turned to keep walking. Fang Chi frowned and called again: “Hey.”
Xiao Yiming turned back once more.
“Why?” Fang Chi asked.
“You… want to hear it?” Xiao Yiming asked. “It’s all stuff you hate.”
“Say it.” Fang Chi pulled a cigarette from his bag, lit up, and leaned against the wall.
“I thought you quit?” Xiao Yiming came over, standing with him in the sheltered corner.
“Almost,” Fang Chi said.
Xiao Yiming chuckled, then after a moment of silence said quietly, “Remember the guy I told you about?”
“The one from No. 8 High?” Fang Chi said. “Yeah.”
That guy, Fang Chi had met him when he and Xiao Yiming played ball. Fang Chi hadn’t been close to him, but Xiao Yiming had. Especially after Fang Chi had started deliberately avoiding Xiao Yiming.
As for why he’d avoided him?
There wasn’t really a reason.
When Xiao Yiming came out and had given him some hints, never spoken outright, maybe he’d felt disgusted.
Maybe… afraid.
“I broke up with him,” Xiao Yiming said, voice low and fast. “I don’t know if he just got bored being with me or if he was playing me from the start. Either way, it really messed me up. Whether it was a game or just him not daring to admit it at the end, it hurt.”
“And then?” Fang Chi took a drag.
“Then we fought. I beat him up,” Xiao Yiming gave a small smile. “So he found people to beat me up properly. Now we’re square.”
“Got it.” Fang Chi stubbed out the cigarette, tossed it in the trash, and started walking.
“We’re still friends, right?” Xiao Yiming called after him.
“Yeah.” Fang Chi tugged at his collar.
He didn’t need to buy groceries today, his grandpa had sent him off with a whole bundle of mountain goods, including smoked meat and smoked fish. Just grab some scallions and garlic, and it’d make a great dish.
Standing outside the gate with a bundle of scallions, Fang Chi pressed the doorbell for ages, but Sun Wenqu never answered. With a sigh, he climbed the wall.
A camera was right there, he was bound to get caught by security sooner or later.
Inside, he noticed the living room window was shut. He knocked. “Sun Wenqu!”
No answer. He leaned closer, peeking through a gap in the curtains, then froze.
Sun Wenqu was bare-chested, only in sweatpants, lying on the sofa with his head turned, eyes shut, one arm dangling to the floor. Seemed asleep.
Fang Chi banged on the window and door for ages. Still no movement.
“Hey!” Fang Chi pounded again, shouting. “Sun Wenqu, are you okay?”
Sun Wenqu was a light sleeper, normally even a breath would wake him. Yet now, with all his noise, nothing?
That tired?
Or… had he skipped the vaccine?
Rabies already setting in?
No way, that fast?
Panic surged. Fang Chi dropped the vegetables, yanked open his bag, and dug through until he found a piton and a carabiner. He pressed to the window again, shouting: “Sun Wenqu! Wake up! If you don’t, I’m coming in, and your window’s not surviving this!”
Still no response.
Fang Chi stopped shouting. He slid the carabiner into the gap between window and frame, levered it out, then shoved the piton into the widened space. A few twists and pops later, he pried a whole board off the frame.
Pressing the glass up with one hand, sliding the piton under and pulling, in thirty seconds flat he had half the window off the frame.
He climbed inside.
“Sun…” He rushed to the sofa.
Just as he reached for Sun Wenqu’s arm, Sun Wenqu suddenly opened his eyes. “Impressive.”
Fang Chi froze, stiff as a board. After a long beat, he exploded: “Sun Wenqu, you seriously need to book an appointment for your mental illness!”
“Tomorrow,” Sun Wenqu mumbled, rolling lazily onto his side, face buried in the sofa back, voice hoarse. “Don’t want to move today. Didn’t even want to get up to open the door.”
“Get up!” Fang Chi was about ready to blow apart. He grabbed his arm and hauled him upright.
Sun Wenqu didn’t resist, just let himself be pulled.
But Fang Chi quickly noticed something wrong. Aside from being limp and weak, his arm was burning hot.
“What’s wrong with you?” Fang Chi’s eyes widened. He pressed his palm to his forehead. “You’ve got a fever? Did you skip the vaccine?”
“Got it, got it, got it,” Sun Wenqu slumped back on the sofa, curling up with one leg. “I’m not in that much of a hurry to die.”
“Then why the fever?” Fang Chi glared.
“Different life experience,” Sun Wenqu said.
Fang Chi stood in the middle of the living room for minutes, speechless, just staring.
“Am I good-looking?” Sun Wenqu lifted his eyes toward him.
“What now?” Fang Chi ignored the question.
“What what.”
“You, your window’s wrecked, you’ve got a fever,” Fang Chi glanced at the rattling pane where cold wind poured in. “Why are you shirtless with a fever?”
“I wasn’t feverish when I took it off,” Sun Wenqu murmured, weakly tossing a leg on the coffee table. “Pajamas are in the closet.”
Fang Chi didn’t react right away, just stood still.
“Should I check if there’s a little slave training program somewhere?” Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue, reaching for his phone.
Fang Chi shot him a look, turned, and went into the bedroom.
The wardrobe wasn’t packed with clothes, but they were all expensive-looking, and a complete mess. No order at all. Fang Chi had to dig around before finally pulling out some pajamas, which he tossed onto Sun Wenqu.
“You want to go to the hospital?” Fang Chi asked.
“No need.” Sun Wenqu slipped them on. “I’m not sick.”
“Then what?” Fang Chi frowned.
“Worried,” Sun Wenqu said. “Waste of a life crisis. What’s for dinner?”
Fang Chi had no idea what he meant, so he just answered the part he understood: “Fish and smoked meat. Since you’re sick, no, worried, maybe some porridge too?”
“Fine.” Sun Wenqu nodded, then slumped sideways until he slid down the sofa. “Any way to fix the window for now?”
“Yeah.” Fang Chi went outside, jammed the pane back into place, propped it with the carabiner so it wouldn’t topple, then came back in. “Don’t open it. It’ll fall out.”
“Hey, Little Fang Chi,” Sun Wenqu smiled faintly. “Turns out you’re pretty capable.”
“You want some medicine?” Fang Chi asked.
“For insanity?” Sun Wenqu said.
“…For fever!” Fang Chi was nearly out of words.
“I took an ibuprofen, feeling much better already. After a nap I’ll be fine,” Sun Wenqu smiled. “Cook, I’m hungry.”
Fang Chi went out to bring the vegetables in and headed to the kitchen. After washing them, he poked his head back out to look at Sun Wenqu: “You’re not brooding over that thing, are you?”
“Hm?” Sun Wenqu froze for a second.
“That business with tricking you into hunting mushrooms,” Fang Chi said.
Sun Wenqu burst out laughing, sprawled on the sofa chuckling for a long while before he stopped: “Oh, right, I’m so miserable. Why is there always a line of people waiting their turn to trick me?”
Fang Chi sighed, saying nothing.
“Is it because…” Sun Wenqu squinted his eyes. “You dodge this, but you can’t dodge that.”
Fang Chi opened his mouth but couldn’t say anything. After watching him a moment, he went back into the kitchen.
The cured meat and fish were both a bit salty. Since Sun Wenqu preferred light flavors, Fang Chi blanched them in water first. They weren’t as fragrant afterward, but much less salty. When he stir-fried them, he didn’t add extra salt.
When he brought the dishes out, he found Sun Wenqu had fallen asleep.
This time it was real, his breathing slow, brows still furrowed.
Fang Chi wasn’t sure whether he should wake him. After hesitating for ages, he decided not to. When he had fevers as a kid, his grandparents always let him sleep. A good solid nap, and he’d be much better.
He went to the kitchen, grabbed two bowls, split the dishes in half, and quietly sat down to eat.
He really was starving. Between the run over, climbing the wall, prying the window, cooking, by the end his chest felt stuck to his back. It took four or five bowls of porridge before he felt steady again.
“No.” Sun Wenqu suddenly spoke from the sofa.
“Hm?” Fang Chi turned his head, his eyes were still shut. Talking in his sleep?
“I don’t.” Sun Wenqu frowned, repeating the words, looking very unhappy.
Even in dreams, he was butting heads with someone.
After eating, Fang Chi took the bowls to the kitchen. Only after closing the door did he run water and start washing them.
Looking at the dishes he had left for Sun Wenqu, he debated whether to wake him or just leave a note, then opened the door.
The moment he did, he nearly crashed straight into Sun Wenqu, who had appeared silently in the doorway. Their noses almost touched.
“Sh*t!” Fang Chi yelped, jumping back.
“Such a pure-looking young man,” Sun Wenqu chuckled, stepping into the kitchen. “But you spit out curses so fluently.”
“You scared the h*ll out of me!” Fang Chi glared. “Weren’t you asleep?”
“Woke up.” Sun Wenqu plucked a piece of cured meat from the bowl and popped it into his mouth. “Tastes good.”
“Then eat up, it’s still hot.” Fang Chi pulled out his phone to check the time. “I’ve got to get to school. Tomorrow I’ll come fix your window.”
“You even know how to fix windows?” Sun Wenqu asked.
“Just patch a strip, that’s all,” Fang Chi said as he walked toward the living room. “Seriously though, the security here is terrible. A thief could stroll right in without breaking a sweat.”
“Anyway, I won’t be living here much longer,” Sun Wenqu said with a smile.
Fang Chi hadn’t figured out what he meant by that when Sun Wenqu suddenly draped an arm across his shoulders and leaned in.
Because of the fever, his body heat, and that faint coconut-milk scent, soaked right through the fabric.
“What are you doing?” Fang Chi twisted his head back. Sun Wenqu was still a patient; he didn’t dare shove him off outright.
“Don’t go to school, okay?” Sun Wenqu said.
“…Why?” Fang Chi carefully gripped his wrist and removed the arm from his shoulders.
“Take care of your feverish master,” Sun Wenqu said.
“I…” Fang Chi bit his lip. “How about you call Ma Liang over instead.”
“Hey!” Sun Wenqu laughed, went back into the kitchen, and carried the dishes out. “Go on to school.”
“Oh.” Fang Chi picked up his bag, took two steps toward the door, then stopped. “At least call Ma Liang, alright?”
“We’ll see,” Sun Wenqu sat down at the table. “Liangzi’s not my servant. He’s got a wife, a warm bed to share, well, no kid yet, but soon enough…”
“If you feel bad… call me,” Fang Chi said with the air of someone making a big decision.
Sun Wenqu waved him off.
Fang Chi didn’t say more, just opened the door to leave. Behind him, Sun Wenqu’s slow voice drifted out: “You know something?”
“Hm?” Fang Chi stopped.
“Real homophobes and real straight guys aren’t like you,” Sun Wenqu said, taking a bite of food. He looked up with a smile. “I’ve seen plenty of them.”
Fang Chi stared at him for a long time, then shut the door again on his way out.
Leaving the courtyard, by habit he climbed the wall. From the sound, though, it seemed like he slipped and fell.
Inside, Sun Wenqu finished the meal alone in front of the blank TV. Then he carried out the leftovers along with some extra cat food, more than usual. The weather was cold, and more strays than usual came around for a meal.
He had wanted to catch up on sleep today, but never managed it. The only nap he got was during the time Fang Chi was cooking, too short.
After feeding the cats, he didn’t linger to play with them as usual. He went back inside, planning to take another pill and sleep.
When he’d asked Fang Chi not to go to school, it hadn’t been a joke. He just didn’t want to be alone.
But in this state he couldn’t go out with friends, and if he called Ma Liang, one glance and the guy would see something was wrong. He didn’t want to get into all that with him yet. Thinking it over, the only person he could turn to was Fang Chi.
Too bad Fang Chi had run off.
Again.
Oh well. Time to give him another painting.
Every time he scared him off, he’d gift him a painting.
After eating, taking medicine, and a shower, he felt better. He lay down in bed, about to play with his phone before sleeping, when it rang.
Mom.
Honestly, he didn’t want to talk to anyone from his family, but he still picked up. “Mom.”
“Wenqu, did your eldest sister come to see you?” his mother asked.
“Yeah, she came.” Sun Wenqu leaned back against the headboard, shining a flashlight on his toes, watching the shadows of them flex and curl against the wall. “Why?”
“What do you think about it?” his mother’s voice carried a trace of worry.
“Does what I think matter?” Sun Wenqu said. “What I think is the least important.”
“Don’t talk like that,” his mother sighed. “What’s the point of being so stubborn?”
“Tell Dad I’m his son, not his project,” Sun Wenqu said.
“Don’t keep harping on this!” his mother’s tone sharpened. “Do you understand this time your father isn’t just saying it casually?”
“He never was just saying it casually. When he said he’d send me into the mountains for three years, didn’t he do it? Not a joke then, either.” Sun Wenqu frowned.
“If he really cuts you off financially this time, you’ll have no way out,” his mother said anxiously. “Wenqu, even your mom won’t be able to help you then!”
“Mom, my problem is I’ve had too many ways out,” Sun Wenqu said softly.
