Chapter 15 – You’d Better Forget About Me

76

The Chinese men’s football team marched grandly into South Korea, only to pack up and return home soon after.

Those national football players who contributed plenty of gossip to domestic newspapers and magazines usually didn’t lack confidence. But perhaps because it was their first time representing China in the World Cup, they were as nervous as elementary school students taking part in an Olympiad math competition for the first time. As a result, they came back empty-handed.

Sometimes, giving you a little hope isn’t necessarily a good thing. Hope is always as tempting as a drug, making people feel like they can never get enough, yet it is always limited. Back when the national team qualified, everyone made too big a deal out of it—newspapers, magazines, and the internet were all celebrating as if it were the New Year. But in the end, even that initial joy couldn’t be salvaged.

After the last group match ended, the brothers were so frustrated they collectively refused to eat, while Xiang Lei gloated on the sidelines. Xiang Lei said this was the consequence of people imposing their own wishful expectations. When the national team had qualified, Xiang Lei had predicted that they wouldn’t be able to go any further, so he hadn’t watched a single match.

In this situation, everyone naturally directed their anger at Xiang Lei. Someone said, “Xiang Lei, you bastard, you don’t care about any of this. You’re too busy dedicating yourself to your personal project of seducing men—how could you possibly understand our pain right now?” Everyone present immediately chimed in.

If Xiang Lei hadn’t been receiving extremely long phone calls from a certain boy lately, the brothers probably wouldn’t have thought to tease him about it again. This semester, apart from the one time Xiang Lei stayed out all night—which gave everyone something to talk about—his “special preferences” had almost been forgotten.

When Xiang Lei saw the latest private message from the user “He Won’t Come Back,” half a month had already passed since he’d replied with a single word: “Sure.” The other party asked for Xiang Lei’s phone number, and after a brief hesitation, Xiang Lei gave it to him.

Nearly three-hour-long phone calls every day. Each time he hung up, Xiang Lei complained that his ear hurt.

The other person said his name was Li Zeng, a fellow townsman from a neighboring county, just one year older than Xiang Lei, but he’d already been working for almost a year. Interestingly, he claimed to have graduated with an associate degree in clinical medicine but was now a junior detective at their county’s police station. Xiang Lei suspected some of these personal details might have been embellished, but he still enjoyed receiving the guy’s calls every day.

Xiang Lei went online less and less frequently because he was afraid of running into Shao Yiming and getting caught in endless emotional turmoil again. He was also afraid of seeing Xu Menghu, who always gave Xiang Lei just enough room to indulge in wishful expectations, only to make him repeat the same disappointment as the followers of the Chinese men’s football team—sooner or later, he’d suffer the consequences of his own actions.

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77

Li Zeng said he hadn’t actually intended to make friends online because he seemed to still be waiting for another man to return to him, even though he was almost certain that man would never come back.

He said he spent nearly every day missing that person who had gone far away, his heart aching with longing, even though missing someone was ultimately useless. Of course, Li Zeng’s original words probably weren’t this melodramatic—this was Xiang Lei’s retelling to Wei Tong.

Li Zeng had stumbled into the forum Xiang Lei moderated and then, by chance, into the section managed by Xu Menghu, where he accidentally came across Xiang Lei’s novel. Just like Xu Menghu, he said he saw himself in that story, which was why he couldn’t help reaching out to Xiang Lei. Now, he could pour out his suffering over the phone every day.

Xiang Lei had always been a good listener. Though, in his opinion, after hearing Xu Menghu’s ‘Bittersweet Romance,’ Li Zeng’s story felt a bit clichéd.

When Li Zeng was studying at a technical secondary school, his dorm housed twelve brothers. Local gangs often came to extort money and bully them. One day, Li Zeng and his dormmates couldn’t take it anymore—they each cut their fingers, dripped a few drops of blood into a lunchbox, filled it with tap water, and drank from it using toothbrush cups. Then they knelt in two rows in the narrow dorm hallway, each declaring something like “Heaven and Earth bear witness,” and became sworn brothers, vowing to unite against their oppressors. By age, Li Zeng was elected as the eldest brother.

Since they were now brothers and eager to turn the tables, Li Zeng and his group were clearly more united than the gangs, so their resistance went surprisingly smoothly. Naturally, there were some fights along the way, but unsurprisingly, Li Zeng’s brothers never suffered any major losses.

Teenage boys hanging out together, reveling in the triumph of overthrowing their oppressors, inevitably became a bit too bold, effectively forming a new gang on campus. However, Li Zeng clarified that they never bullied others or acted shamelessly—though occasionally, they might play pranks on someone they all disliked.

For example, one brother grew tired of this underworld lifestyle heavily influenced by Hong Kong gangster movies and had conflicts with almost every other brother. Later, he even vaguely expressed regret about the sworn brotherhood. The brothers didn’t confront him directly but secretly used his facial soap to wash their feet, wiped their feet with his face towel, removed a plank from his bed, and even peed in his toothbrush cup before dumping it out. Eventually, the kid realized he wasn’t welcome anymore and tearfully moved out. The brothers sometimes felt regretful, even a little sad, but none of them interacted with him again.

Li Zeng brought up this brother to share some past jokes with Xiang Lei, but by the end, his tone was filled with melancholy.

“The remaining eleven brothers were always very close, especially physically. Among them, three pairs had even done ‘those things’—more than once—but no one overthought it. Fourth Brother once told us, ‘Yesterday, I fucked Sixth Brother’s ass—what a unique experience!’ Sixth Brother then said, ‘You bastard cheated! We agreed to take turns, but after you got off, you backed out! Just you wait, I’ll get my turn someday.'”

“Out of the eleven brothers, I was the only one with a girlfriend. But when the youngest brother, Xiao Guang, hinted at doing ‘that’ with me, I didn’t refuse. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but I never expected Xiao Guang to take it seriously. I don’t remember when it started, but he began picking fights with my girlfriend. To us, brotherhood came first, so I never got angry when he made her cry. But when he started picking fights with me, it felt unreasonable. A few times, I lost my temper and hit him. Thankfully, we always got past it. When Xiao Guang told me he loved me, I didn’t feel fear or disgust—just worry. I worried he was going down the wrong path because of me. I felt responsible for protecting my brothers, and my brothers should gladly accept my protection.”

“People might not believe this, but to let Xiao Guang experience the joys of heterosexual love, I once encouraged him to sleep with my girlfriend. At the time, I was lying in the middle, holding my girlfriend in my arms. Xiao Guang pressed up against me from behind, whispering ‘Brother, brother’ over and over. I turned around and kissed him for a while, then suddenly got an idea. I turned back to my girlfriend, did all the foreplay, then flipped Xiao Guang onto his back and practically taught him step-by-step how to be with a woman…”

“The next day, my girlfriend sobbed uncontrollably in front of me.”

“I knew she had always loved me but also feared me, yet I could hardly imagine her inner struggle at the time. I never thought about how absurd this was—even now, I don’t know if that absurdity came from immaturity or just an inherently different way of thinking. My girlfriend believed she meant nothing to me, and no matter what I said, I couldn’t convince her otherwise. She chose to leave me, and nothing I said could change her mind.”

“What made me even angrier was that Xiao Guang still insisted he loved me and couldn’t love women. I forced him to take it back, but he stubbornly refused. So I hit him again. No matter how hard or how many times I hit him, when I asked if he’d take it back, he’d still look at me with that stubborn expression and say clearly: ‘I—can’t—do it!'”

“That day, I must have gone insane. I’d never hit anyone so hard before—I almost forgot he was my brother. If I got tired, I’d stop for a smoke and ask, ‘What about now? Can you take it back?’ I saw Xiao Guang, curled up on the floor, struggling to turn his head and look at me. His face was deathly pale, twisted in agony, his voice hoarse from screaming, but the stubbornness in his eyes told me he was still saying: ‘I—can’t—do it!'”

“I think I really lost it. I might have grinned savagely, slowly crouched down, and stubbed my cigarette out on his bare chest. Then I picked up a folding chair and swung it at his writhing body—once, twice… I don’t think I felt any pleasure in the violence, but my arms seemed to move on their own, unable to stop. If a few brothers hadn’t happened to come in and pin me down, I might have beaten Xiao Guang to death that day.”

“Xiao Guang broke two ribs and suffered a stomach hemorrhage. He spent a full month in the hospital.”

“Of course, I didn’t stay insane forever. In fact, by the time my brothers carried Xiao Guang into the ambulance, I’d already come to my senses. I was terrified—not of the consequences, but of the possibility that some white-robed doctor would coldly inform me that Xiao Guang hadn’t made it.”

“I nearly dropped out of school, visiting him in the hospital every day. The only reason I didn’t stay by his bedside was that every time he saw me, Xiao Guang would shut his eyes tight, tears streaming down his face, while struggling to pull out his IV. And if his mother was there, she’d cry and scream at me to leave.”

“After being discharged, Xiao Guang slit his wrists once. Thankfully, his mother found him early, so he was hospitalized again.”

“After his second discharge, he knelt before his tearful mother and promised never to consider suicide again. Then, as if nothing had happened, he came to say goodbye to us, saying he was going to Shenzhen to work. When I saw the scars on his wrists, my heart ached. I apologized and begged him not to go, but he said he didn’t blame me—he just wouldn’t listen to me anymore.”

“Fuck, I even cried—something none of the brothers had ever seen before. But Xiao Guang wouldn’t budge. I decided to go to Shenzhen with him, but that same night, someone told me he’d already left home in secret…”

“No one ever heard from Xiao Guang again. No matter who asked his parents, they never got any answers.”

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78

Were there really so many straight men teetering on the edge of same-sex love because of brotherly bonds?

Otherwise, how could Xiang Lei have met both Xu Menghu and Li Zeng in succession? Maybe there was no such thing as a 100% straight man—those who felt homosexuality was a world away had probably just never experienced brotherly love that went too deep.

Xiang Lei often wondered: If he were Xiao B or Xiao Guang, he wouldn’t have chosen to leave. But if he had left like Xiao B and Xiao Guang, would Pei Yong have sought out a gay man to confide in about their unforgettable past, like Xu Menghu and Li Zeng?

If one day, Xiao B and Xiao Guang both returned, Xu Menghu and Li Zeng would probably forget about Xiang Lei very quickly.

Xiang Lei couldn’t help but envy Xiao B and Xiao Guang. Compared to them, his relationship with Pei Yong felt too ordinary—Pei Yong’s affection stopped at the level of deep brotherhood, never any less, but never any more.

Li Zeng asked when Xiang Lei was going home. Xiang Lei realized he’d already finished a quarter of his university life. Li Zeng asked if Xiang Lei would meet him during summer break, and after some thought, Xiang Lei said yes.

Xiang Lei told Xu Menghu: “When I go home for summer break, I might meet an online friend.”

Xu Menghu immediately replied: “Go for it! As a gay man, if you’re only loved but never fucked, your life isn’t complete!”

If he hadn’t heard the short burst of air escape his own nose, Xiang Lei wouldn’t have realized that Xu Menghu’s words had actually made him laugh.

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79

Another weekend arrived. Instead of staying in the dorm or going to an internet café, Xiang Lei—for once—went to the library to borrow Socrates and Plato and spent two whole days buried in it at the main E building’s study hall. Xiang Lei thought he’d finally avoided Shao Yiming, but that evening, he received a call from him.

Shao Yiming told Wei Tong that he’d found a really great friend for Xiang Lei—someone Xiang Lei would definitely like. So Wei Tong took the initiative to give Shao Yiming Xiang Lei’s dorm phone number.

When Shao Yiming said, “Xiang Lei, I really miss you”, Xiang Lei’s heart immediately raced. But he replied, “Just focus on Wei Tong. There’s no future for us.”

After a moment of silence, Shao Yiming said, “Xiang Lei, you’re such a hypocrite!”

Xiang Lei suddenly felt unbearably frustrated and raised his voice: “Fuck! I want to be with you too, but wanting doesn’t change the fact that it’s impossible!” Then, without another thought, he hung up.

Shortly after, Zheng Dongming’s almost-girlfriend called, and the two chatted for over an hour. The moment Zheng Dongming hung up, Shao Yiming called again.

“Were you the one using the phone just now?” Shao Yiming asked weakly.

“No, it was a roommate,” Xiang Lei replied just as weakly.

“Fuck his mother! How long did that idiot talk?” Shao Yiming suddenly exploded.

“How did you…”

“Do you know how many times I had to dial? Every time, I had to dial 201, then press 1 for Mandarin, then enter an eight-digit card number and a four-digit password, and then dial your dorm number! If the line was busy, I could only redial three times—after that, I had to start all over again from 201!”

“He didn’t know you were calling repeatedly…”

“I’m definitely getting scolded when I get back. But I just wanted to see if I could get through to you tonight!”

Xiang Lei began to hate his own hypocrisy and capriciousness. He felt like these two fundamental traits of his had a pretentious edge to them, and that disgusted him. He pressed the receiver tighter to his ear, wondering if he could hear Shao Yiming’s breathing on the other end.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Shao Yiming suddenly softened, his voice low.

“It’s late. Go back. Wei Tong’s train ticket is a day earlier than mine. Let’s go see him off together,” Xiang Lei said.

“Really?” Shao Yiming asked nervously.

“Really,” Xiang Lei replied.

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80

Xiang Lei roared into the dorm phone: “Fuck! I want to be with you too!”

This was the first time Xiang Lei had ever spoken so bluntly in front of us. It probably made us all cringe—I saw Zheng Dongming struggling not to laugh, his face twisting into an exaggerated, weird smile.

After Xiang Lei hung up, he had just climbed back into bed when the phone rang again. We all knew it was still for Xiang Lei, so no one answered for a long time. By the time Liu Chong sat up to look for his slippers, Xiang Lei had already climbed back down.

Xiang Lei picked up the phone, frowning as he barked a rough “Hello?” But within seconds, his tone softened. Then he yanked the cord out and handed the phone to Zheng Dongming, who was soaking his feet on the lower bunk.

Zheng Dongming and his almost-girlfriend chatted for an hour and a half. The moment he hung up, the phone rang again. Zheng Dongming grabbed it and asked, “What now?” A second later, he awkwardly said, “Oh,” and casually placed the phone on the lower bunk, muttering, “Xiang Lei’s call,” before carrying his foot-soaking water out of the dorm.

That night, I had a strange feeling—like Xiang Lei and we belonged to two different worlds, except that in this ten-square-meter dorm, our timelines had briefly overlapped, allowing us to hear and see each other.

That’s why, when we heard Xiang Lei talking on the phone, we couldn’t help but want to laugh.

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81

Zheng Dongming, Zhou Yunzhi, and I all planned to stay in Beijing during the summer break to work. It wasn’t about earning pocket money—since middle school, we’d often heard stories about college students gaining “social experience” by taking summer jobs. After hearing it so much, we couldn’t help but buy into the idea, and maybe we also wanted to follow the trend.

During finals week, we kept discussing it in the dorm.

One day, just before leaving, He Fei chimed in: “If you’re serious about this, I can hook you up with a friend’s dad’s company. They hire summer temps every year.”

We immediately got excited and started asking for details.

“It’s just handing out flyers and doing market research—don’t complain if it’s tough,” He Fei said.

Of course, we said we wouldn’t, and then repeatedly begged He Fei to take it seriously. He Fei patted his chest and said, “Leave it to me,” then turned to Xiang Lei and asked, “Hey, you wanna sign up too?”

Xiang Lei must have been surprised—the two of them hadn’t interacted much lately, probably because of that “joke” He Fei had made before Xiang Lei went to Shanghai—the one without a smile. It was unclear if one of them was deliberately avoiding the other, but the two rarely crossed paths in the dorm.

“No, I’m going home for the summer,” Xiang Lei said.

We saw He Fei smirk dismissively again before shouldering his backpack and leaving the dorm. The moment the door closed, he spat out a single word: “Pathetic!”

This time, Xiang Lei finally seemed genuinely angry.

This was probably the first time we’d ever seen Xiang Lei get mad at He Fei—and it seemed like he was carrying some deep, unspoken grievance. We heard him mutter to himself, “Fuck! What the hell did I ever do to him?!”

At that moment, Zheng Dongming stretched lazily and said to Zhou Yunzhi and me, “He Fei really is a solid guy!”

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82

Wei Tong’s train ticket was for 3 a.m. the day after exams ended.

Xiang Lei had been hesitating over whether to actually go with Shao Yiming to see him off, but then Wei Tong called to say that he and Shao Yiming were waiting for Xiang Lei outside Teaching Building No. 4.

The three of them had planned to wait in the station until 3 a.m., but the sweltering, foul-smelling environment was unbearable. Shao Yiming suggested killing time at a hotel, and all three agreed.

Just as Xiang Lei was about to fall asleep, he faintly heard rustling from the other bed. Unable to resist, he peeked and saw Shao Yiming lying perfectly still on the bed two meters away, obediently responding to Wei Tong’s kisses. A pang of bitterness and sorrow shot through Xiang Lei’s heart, and he quickly ducked back under the blanket, not daring to look again. Before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep.

Xiang Lei had a dream—nothing particularly meaningful, just that someone was holding him tightly, and he remembered saying one thing: “Xu Menghu, you bastard, you finally came to see me!”

Then he suddenly woke up. When he realized it was just a dream, his heart ached, but there was nothing he could do.

Next, he noticed Shao Yiming sitting on the edge of his bed, smoking, staring at him intently. This time, those usually clear eyes seemed clouded—or maybe they hadn’t changed at all, just veiled in a thick haze of ambiguity.

Shao Yiming reached out and placed a hand on Xiang Lei’s. Xiang Lei jerked his hand back under the blanket as if shocked.

“What time is it? Where’s Wei Tong?” Xiang Lei asked.

“I just put him on the train. You were asleep, and he told me not to wake you,” Shao Yiming said. Then, in a flash, he leaned down and buried his face in Xiang Lei’s chest.

Xiang Lei’s entire body stiffened.

“Xiang Lei, I can’t take it anymore. Let’s be together,” Shao Yiming mumbled into the blanket covering Xiang Lei’s chest. “Then we’ll tell him together—it’s just something neither of us can control.”

Xiang Lei reached out to push Shao Yiming away, saying, “Get up first!”

Xiang Lei couldn’t actually push him off, but Shao Yiming lifted himself up anyway—though he didn’t move away. Instead, he kicked off his shoes, roughly threw back Xiang Lei’s blanket, and pressed his entire body down on top of him. Before Xiang Lei could react, Shao Yiming’s lips were already on his.

Xiang Lei panicked. He grabbed Shao Yiming’s T-shirt collar with one hand and pressed the other against his throat, using all his strength. When Shao Yiming was forced to break the kiss, Xiang Lei roared, “Shao Yiming, get the fuck off me!”

But Shao Yiming wasn’t fazed. He easily pried Xiang Lei’s hand from his throat and leaned in again.

Xiang Lei summoned every ounce of strength, twisting his body as he tried to shove Shao Yiming off. When Shao Yiming pulled back again, his clear eyes full of longing, Xiang Lei suddenly felt drunk—like all his strength had drained away in an instant.

Shao Yiming’s next approach was finally met with acceptance.

Xiang Lei thought, This must still be part of that dream. The real Shao Yiming should still be on the bed two meters away, obediently returning Wei Tong’s tender kisses. The person in front of him was just an illusion—a borrowed shell for the guy in his dream.

He roughly pulled off Xiang Lei’s shirt, then started on his own. His camouflage T-shirt played a frustrating joke on him, getting stuck around his neck for a long time. He fumbled with his belt, failing to undo it before switching to Xiang Lei’s, his trembling hands unable to find the buckle.

His frantic struggle almost made Xiang Lei laugh. Unable to resist, Xiang Lei reached down and undid his own belt. Shao Yiming stared at him the whole time, then went back to wrestling with his own.

Their eventual nakedness was hard-won.

After some clumsy groping, Shao Yiming started preparing himself. When he lifted Xiang Lei’s legs onto his shoulders, Xiang Lei finally felt a flicker of panic.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Xiang Lei asked nervously.

“Loving you…” Shao Yiming murmured.

Before Xiang Lei could decide what to do, a sharp pain made him shudder.

“Wait!” he cried.

“Sorry, sorry,” Shao Yiming paused, bending down with some effort to kiss Xiang Lei.

But the pain only intensified.

“Stop!” Xiang Lei suddenly woke up.

This wasn’t a dream—but he needed to wake up anyway.

“It’ll be over soon…” Shao Yiming said tenderly, even as he pushed forward ruthlessly.

“You—stop!” Xiang Lei was sweating now.

“Xiang Lei… you have no idea how much I love you…” Shao Yiming muttered to himself.

Trapped beneath Shao Yiming, every movement only worsened the pain. Xiang Lei felt the pillow beneath his head grow damp—sweat trickled down his neck, his back, unstoppable.

“Shao Yiming, stop, goddammit!” Xiang Lei roared, thrusting his right leg past Shao Yiming’s arm and finally planting his foot against his chest—then shoving with all his might.

Shao Yiming toppled backward off the bed, dragging the blanket with him. His head hit the coffee table by the window, sending two teacups clattering to the floor. The chair beside the table screeched in protest.

Shao Yiming didn’t get up for a long time. Xiang Lei felt a pang of guilt but refused to show it—or to offer a hand. Instead, he went straight to the bathroom.

There was blood. For some reason, Xiang Lei was certain it was filthy.

When he returned to the room, he started dressing. Shao Yiming sat on the edge of the bed, silently watching. As Xiang Lei headed for the door, Shao Yiming rushed over and grabbed his hand. Disgusted, Xiang Lei shook him off, but before he could take another step, Shao Yiming wrapped his arms around him from behind.

“I’m sorry,” Shao Yiming whispered in his ear, like a guilty child.

“What we’re doing is disgusting,” Xiang Lei said, not struggling but closing his eyes.

“Let’s tell him, okay? Dragging this out isn’t fair to any of us.”

Xiang Lei pried Shao Yiming’s arms from his chest and turned to face him, enunciating each word: “Even if we tell him, it’s still im-pos-si-ble.”

“Why?”

Xiang Lei didn’t answer. He turned and left the hotel.

I wonder how he’ll feel, left alone in there? The whole way back, Xiang Lei kept thinking about Shao Yiming’s question. For Wei Tong’s friendship? For my own peace of mind? Or… for someone else?

Do I like him? Yes. Do I love him? I don’t know.

Xiang Lei preferred to believe that what Shao Yiming could tempt him with was nothing more than shallow desire—monochrome, lacking depth. At most, it was just the allure of those clear eyes. Even if it really was love at first sight, it still couldn’t give Xiang Lei the kind of love he truly needed.

After returning to campus, Xiang Lei spent an entire day at an internet café, waiting until the last possible moment to catch his train—when Xu Menghu finally came online. Xiang Lei asked, “One last confirmation—can we meet or not?”

As he waited for a reply, Xiang Lei thought, If the answer is yes, I won’t have to catch that train.

A long time passed before the response came: “Aren’t you still looking? Forget it. I don’t think I’m gay.”

“Fine. Goodbye!” Xiang Lei typed without hesitation, then logged off and paid.

Turns out, no pain in the body could compare to the one in his chest.

When Xiang Lei returned to the dorm to grab his backpack, Liu Chong told him, “You’ve had like a dozen calls today!”

Shao Yiming, right?

Shao Yiming, no matter how hard it is… you’d better forget about me.