Today Fang Chi’s efficiency was surprisingly high. Even though he stumbled through the problems, he kept writing nonstop. At school, he might do two questions and then chat for a while, or nap on his desk. At home, who knew? Tease the cat, cook noodles, fiddle around, an evening gone just like that.
An unfamiliar environment seemed to help him focus. Even more surprising was that Sun Wenqu, who usually couldn’t sit still for five minutes, didn’t come in to bother him at all.
Fang Chi left the tougher problems blank, planning to ask them all in one go later.
There was no clock in the study, and he’d left his phone in the living room. He had no idea how long he’d been at it, just that he felt pretty hardcore.
After who knows how long, the door was lightly tapped twice, and Sun Wenqu pushed it open a crack: “An hour. Take a ten-minute break.”
Only an hour? Fang Chi was shocked. Felt like so long, but just an hour?
Still, the fact that Sun Wenqu even reminded him to take a break left him a little… something. But before he could stand, Sun Wenqu added: “Sit too long and your butt gets big.”
“…Oh.” Fang Chi immediately didn’t feel like moving anymore. Of course he couldn’t be normal.
“I bought chocolate,” said Sun Wenqu. “Make some hot chocolate, will you?”
Fang Chi had already walked to the door, but stopped at that: “Didn’t you just tell me to rest?”
“Resting, yeah. But there’s active rest and passive rest,” Sun Wenqu smiled, flopping on the sofa. “Making hot chocolate counts as active.”
“Then you should do some active rest yourself. Why don’t you make it?” Fang Chi said.
“Can’t you ever learn good habits from people?” Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue.
“You sit on that sofa every day like some potted plant,” Fang Chi went into the kitchen. Even though dinner had been filling, the mention of chocolate made him a bit hungry again. “Your *ss must weigh twenty jin by now.”
That cracked Sun Wenqu up. He laughed for ages: “Don’t know. Why don’t you check?”
Fang Chi shut the kitchen door.
When the hot chocolate was ready, the property manager brought workers to fix the window. They worked fast, but Fang Chi was nervous, standing guard by the window, afraid they’d ask why it looked pried open before the burglar came.
Sun Wenqu, on the other hand, sat calmly drinking hot chocolate, not sparing them a glance. When the workers asked for money, he just paid without a question.
“You’re really careless.” Fang Chi said.
“Broad-minded,” Sun Wenqu kept watching TV. “Welcome to my rugged domain.”
“I’ll go sweep the glass then.” Fang Chi carried the screen back to the study.
“Housekeeping’s coming tomorrow. The way you sweep, you’ll probably cut your hand.” Sun Wenqu chuckled.
“Then I’ll…” Fang Chi hesitated, poured himself some chocolate. “Get back to homework.”
“Got stuff you don’t understand?” Sun Wenqu glanced at him.
“Yeah,” Fang Chi said. “I’ll finish first and then ask you all at once.”
“I’ll explain, but I’m not doing them for you,” Sun Wenqu reminded.
“Got it.” Fang Chi grabbed his phone and went back into the study.
Normally, he’d never finish this much in one night. But today, miraculously, he nearly finished all the papers and exercises.
Honestly, he liked this desk a lot, it didn’t match Sun Wenqu’s sloppy vibe at all, but somehow it calmed him down.
Checking the time, it wasn’t even as late as self-study usually ended. He carried the leftover papers out.
Sun Wenqu was on the sofa, muted TV running a racing game. He only glanced over once before fixing on the screen again: “Done, huh?”
“Mm.” Fang Chi looked at the screen. It had been a long time since he played games. At home, to stop himself, he barely even turned on his computer. Now, watching Sun Wenqu play, he felt an itch.
“Turn the sound on,” Sun Wenqu said.
Fang Chi turned up the volume. The room filled with music and screeching tires, very exciting.
“I’ll explain after I finish this lap.” Sun Wenqu’s eyes stayed on the screen.
“Okay.” Fang Chi sat on the sofa.
For someone who looked lazy about everything, Sun Wenqu was actually really good at games. He didn’t curl up like usual, his hands moved quick and precise.
Fang Chi watched for a while, then his eyes drifted down to those hands.
Thin, pale, long-fingered hands…
Just then, Sun Wenqu let go of the controller with his right hand and flashed a V-sign. Fang Chi froze.
“Nice, huh?” Sun Wenqu said.
Fang Chi instantly wanted to bury himself in the sofa. He shoved his stack of papers onto Sun Wenqu’s lap: “Here… teach me.”
“Not here, in the study.” Sun Wenqu yawned.
Fang Chi quickly snatched the papers back and hurried into the study.
Sun Wenqu strolled in after him, leaning on the desk: “So, what stumped you?”
“Physics. Can you?” Fang Chi opened his physics workbook.
“Yeah, let me see,” Sun Wenqu leaned over, scanning what he’d done. “Your physics is way better than your chemistry.”
“Sort of. I can guess right more often.” Fang Chi scratched his head.
“Alright, daddy’s gonna teach you this one.” Sun Wenqu took the pen, pulled out a blank sheet, and began explaining as he wrote.
Fang Chi rarely asked teachers for help, part laziness, part that he often couldn’t follow their explanations.
So with Sun Wenqu, such a flippant guy, he didn’t expect much. But face to face, forced to follow the pen’s tip, he had no choice but to focus.
“I talk, you listen. If you don’t get it, stop me,” Sun Wenqu said. “If I finish and you still don’t understand, I’ll smack you.”
“…Got it.” Fang Chi nodded.
Though half-lying across the desk, Sun Wenqu’s expression was unusually serious. Fang Chi had never seen him like this.
As he explained, step by step, with neat notes and a steady tone, Fang Chi’s image of him quietly shifted. No teasing, no nonsense, just clear, logical teaching.
The neat characters, the calm voice, it made Fang Chi zone out once or twice.
“Got it?” Sun Wenqu asked, setting down the pen and looking sideways at him.
“Yeah.” Fang Chi nodded.
“Then solve this one.” Sun Wenqu handed him another similar problem. “Do both.”
“Mm.” Fang Chi lowered his head to write.
After a moment, Sun Wenqu sniffed and asked: “What’s that smell?”
“Huh?” Fang Chi blinked up at him.
“Smells good?” Sun Wenqu asked again.
“What?” Fang Chi didn’t get it.
“This.” Sun Wenqu tapped the workbook in front of him. “You’ve been sniffing it forever. Planning to chew on it next?”
Fang Chi finally realized, and sat up straight: “Couldn’t you just say so?”
“That’s boring,” Sun Wenqu smirked. “Can’t believe you’re not nearsighted.”
“I’m not,” Fang Chi said.
“You’ve only been working hard these past few months, right?” Sun Wenqu laughed.
“Pretty much,” Fang Chi sighed. Then, hesitating, he asked: “When you were in school… were you the hardworking type?”
Sun Wenqu laughed again, stretching as he walked out: “No way. But I’m smart.”
The questions Fang Chi couldn’t solve, Sun Wenqu spent about an hour going through all of them. By the end, everything was done. That almost never happened, normally Fang Chi just left blanks, half-listened when the teacher explained, and if he didn’t get it, oh well.
“Thanks,” Fang Chi packed up his bag. “You’d actually make a decent teacher, you explain clearly.”
“Forget it,” Sun Wenqu flopped back onto the sofa. “All those little fresh meats, looking but not…”
“Pretend I didn’t say anything!” Fang Chi quickly raised his voice to cut him off.
“Go on then, I’m exhausted.” Sun Wenqu waved him off.
As Fang Chi put on his headphones to leave, Sun Wenqu suddenly called: “Oh right. My injury, ”
“Hm?” Fang Chi turned back, just in time to see Sun Wenqu yank up his pant leg. Pretty pale. Then he plopped it on the coffee table.
“Can it get wet now? Last night I had to lift my leg high in the shower. Almost slipped into a split.”
Fang Chi sighed, walked over to check. The wound was scabbed already: “No problem now. Wash, just dry it off and disinfect after. You really need to ask me that?”
“I’m the kind of guy whose ability to take care of himself is probably in the negatives,” Sun Wenqu said. “Good night.”
“Good night.” Fang Chi turned and went out.
On evenings without self-study, Fang Chi stayed at Sun Wenqu’s place to review. Although he felt a little awkward and ill at ease, the problems Sun Wenqu had explained stuck surprisingly well in his memory, when he ran into similar ones, just thinking it through was enough to get it.
So even though his family had no expectations of him at all, since he could actually understand Sun Wenqu’s explanations, he figured he might as well listen more. Maybe if he pushed himself for the next six months, he’d still be able to get something out of it.
But he still went to training every Sunday. That was his greatest passion, the best way to deal with homesickness, and probably what Sun Wenqu would call “active rest.” Either way, whenever he trained, he felt relaxed and genuinely enjoyed it.
“How’s your review going lately?” Chen Xiang asked.
“Still…” Fang Chi was climbing to the highest point of the wall, about to make a big leap. Before he could finish the sentence, his hand slipped from the hold, leaving him dangling on the safety rope. He let out a helpless cry: “Ah!”
“Still can’t keep your focus, huh?” Chen Xiang laughed. “Getting tired? If you’re tired, just take a break.”
“I’ll rest…” Fang Chi braced his legs on the wall, ready to slide down, when he suddenly noticed someone sitting in the members’ area in front of the climbing wall. The guy looked very familiar, leaning back in his chair and watching him.
Sun Wenqu?
“You… why are you here?” Fang Chi walked over, surprised.
“I… had some business, just passing by.” Sun Wenqu glanced at his phone. “Appointment at eleven. I was early, so I’m waiting here.”
“Oh.” Fang Chi answered but didn’t know what else to say. He thought Sun Wenqu’s face didn’t look too good today. After a pause, he asked, “You’re not sick, are you?”
“Why do you always talk like you’re begging for a beating?” Sun Wenqu chuckled.
“Not as bad as you.” Fang Chi felt a bit embarrassed. “I mean your face looks kind of off.”
“Really?” Sun Wenqu touched his face. “Worried.”
“More like bored.” Fang Chi glanced at the climbing wall, there weren’t many people today. He pointed at it: “Want to try?”
“You gonna teach me?” Sun Wenqu grinned.
“I’m not a coach,” Fang Chi said. “No time.”
“Wow, look at you all cocky.” Sun Wenqu sipped his drink. “Go on, get back to training, don’t worry about me. I’ll leave when it’s time.”
Fang Chi hesitated, then turned back to the training area.
“That’s one of Luo Peng’s rich-kid crowd, right?” Chen Xiang asked.
“Mm.” Fang Chi drank some water, squatted to adjust his shoes. “Said he was just passing by.”
“You never answered when I asked how your review’s going,” Chen Xiang said.
“Pretty good,” Fang Chi smiled. “At least I haven’t been chewed out.”
“Want to cut back on the training load?” Chen Xiang asked.
“No need.” Fang Chi shook his head. “This is my only fun.”
“Alright then.” Chen Xiang smiled, patting his shoulder.
Fang Chi picked a new route. Just as he was about to start climbing, he glanced back, Sun Wenqu was still sitting there, watching him expressionlessly.
As Fang Chi gripped the holds and began climbing, he felt a little tense. He couldn’t say why, normally lots of people watched him train and it never bothered him. But with Sun Wenqu staring, he suddenly felt uneasy.
Long legs, huh.
That phrase kept echoing in his head.
Are they really that long?
But within a few minutes, Fang Chi was back in his zone, enjoying the climb.
The new route was tough. He had to stop several times mid-way, shake out his hands, and think through the next move. His shirt was drenched in sweat, but he loved that feeling.
The moment he let go of the final hold at the top, that surge of accomplishment could keep him grinning for half the day.
Sliding down, he looked back, ready to show off to Sun Wenqu, only to find the chair empty.
Gone?
When he reached the ground, he scanned the surroundings, even stepped outside to look. No sign of Sun Wenqu.
He really left.
Fang Chi sat down, drank some water, and suddenly felt a little disappointed.
Didn’t even get to show off…
“Are you there yet?” Sun Yao called him.
“Almost.” Sun Wenqu had one hand in his pocket, phone in the other, walking slowly backward against the wind.
“Didn’t I tell you eleven?” Sun Yao sounded annoyed. “You’re the one who said you wanted to talk to Dad, so I set up the meeting. What’s with this attitude?”
“It’s not even eleven yet,” Sun Wenqu answered listlessly.
“Listen to yourself! What is this, a job interview? Going home, you’ve got to hit the exact minute? Not early, not late?” Sun Yao’s voice rose. “Wenqu, if you’re gonna act like this, don’t bother going.”
“Then I’ll go back,” Sun Wenqu said.
“Sun Wenqu!” There was anger in Sun Yao’s voice now.
“Alright, alright, I get it,” Sun Wenqu frowned. “I’m almost there.”
When he reached the compound, the security guard stopped him, asking him to register.
“Register what?” Sun Wenqu sounded impatient. “I live here, why should I register?”
“Live here? I know all the residents, even the regular visitors. I’ve never seen you.” The guard looked him up and down. “What’s your unit number?”
“Don’t remember,” Sun Wenqu said.
“Then you have to register.” The guard stared at him.
“I’m not registering.”
“Then call the owner.”
“Don’t remember the number.” Sun Wenqu sat down on a chair by the guard booth, staring at the passing traffic.
“Sir, if you keep this up, I’ll have to call the police.” The guard picked up the phone.
“Go ahead.” Sun Wenqu smirked.
Just then, Sun Yao’s car turned in from the street. The guard saw the license plate and opened the gate.
Sun Wenqu stayed slouched in the chair. The car stopped at the booth, window rolling down to reveal Sun Yao’s frowning face: “What are you doing here?”
“They wouldn’t let me in,” Sun Wenqu said.
“Do you know this gentleman?” the guard asked Sun Yao. “He couldn’t give me a unit number or an owner’s number…”
“He’s my younger brother.” Sun Yao smiled at the guard, then turned to Wenqu: “Get in the car.”
It had been so long since he’d last come, no wonder the guard didn’t recognize him. If he had to find the place on his own, he might not even manage.
“When you talk to Dad later,” Sun Yao parked in the underground garage, “keep that irritating ‘I’m not a project, I’m his son’ routine to yourself.”
“Which routine?” Sun Wenqu glanced at her.
“The one where you act like you’re his kid, not his work of art.” Sun Yao gave him a look. “You’re not a child anymore. You can’t keep throwing tantrums and doing whatever you want.”
Sun Wenqu said nothing.
“This time, if you pull the same old stunt, no one will be able to help you.” Sun Yao got out of the car.
Following her into the house, Sun Wenqu saw his mother waiting in the living room. The moment the door opened, she came forward: “Wenqu.”
“Mom.” Sun Wenqu smiled faintly.
“Let me see…” She held his shoulders, studied him for a long while. “Not much has changed. Maybe just a bit darker.”
It had been three years since Sun Wenqu last saw his mother. Looking at her now, he couldn’t even say what he felt. She was still the same as always, calm, elegant, floating a few inches above the ground, just as he remembered.
He couldn’t even tell if she was truly happy to see him. So he simply gave her a light hug.
Dad didn’t appear. Most likely, he was upstairs in his studio, waiting for him.
“Your father’s upstairs,” his mother patted his shoulder. “Go have a good talk with him.”
“I’m hungry.” Sun Wenqu smelled food from the kitchen.
“Not ready yet. If you go up now, dinner will be just about done when you finish.”
Sun Wenqu really didn’t want to see his father. He would rather eat under heavy pressure than sit alone with him in that studio full of pottery.
But he had no choice, he was already here. The real reason he came was just to confirm whether his father had truly given him an ultimatum.
He opened the door to the room at the end of the hall upstairs and immediately felt suffocated.
They had moved houses many times, but every single one had a room set aside as his father’s private studio. And it was always arranged exactly the same way.
No matter when or where, walking into it instantly brought back the stifling, oppressive memories of his childhood.
His father sat at the turntable by the window. Hearing him come in, he didn’t move.
Sun Wenqu closed the door, cleared his throat. “Dad.”
“You came?” His father turned his head.
“Yeah.”
“I thought you were so capable.” His father sneered. “Turns out you’re just scared of running out of money. Afraid you can’t take your little boyfriend wandering all over the mountains anymore?”
Sun Wenqu jerked his head up, staring at him.
