Chapter 48 – Another Four Years

281

July 2, 2005, seemed to mark a brand-new beginning for He Fei.

282

He Fei learned from the school’s Youth League Committee that Xiang Lei had been assigned to a place called Banka in Lincang, Yunnan. The Western Volunteers were scheduled to report to their posts in late July.

By mid-July, Xiang Lei should still have been in his hometown. So, He Fei went to the department’s student office to inquire about Xiang Lei’s home address. To his dismay, the address Xiang Lei had registered only went as far as the township level.

It felt as if everything was conspiring to keep them apart.

Driven by an inexplicable impulse, He Fei took a few days off and went to Qingdao, then traveled to the county where Xiang Lei’s hometown was located, and finally arrived at the township where Xiang Lei’s family lived. Though he knew it was impossible to run into Xiang Lei by chance, at every stop, he couldn’t help but think, Perhaps he once walked these streets. Whenever someone passed by, He Fei wondered, Could this be one of Xiang Lei’s friends?

In August, He Fei’s grandfather fell ill and was hospitalized. Within just a few days, he seemed to have aged significantly.

Unable to hold back, He Fei brought up Xiang Lei by his grandfather’s bedside, along with the endless turmoil Xiang Lei’s departure had caused him. Of course, He Fei omitted the nature of their relationship—something his grandfather likely wouldn’t accept. He simply described it as a bond deeper than that of blood brothers.

His grandfather told him that he, too, had once had such a friend in his youth. In those backward times, all contact between them had been severed even more completely. His grandfather had also struggled to let go of it until, twenty years later, they happened to meet again and reestablished their connection. But a person’s life is divided into different stages, each with its own priorities. Even the closest friends, the kind who once shared everything, eventually build their own separate lives after starting families. Now, his grandfather and that old friend reunite once a year, sitting together to reminisce, and that alone feels like a blessing from heaven.

His grandfather’s words didn’t bring He Fei any peace. He Fei wasn’t troubled by the thought of the next stage of life, and he was certain Xiang Lei wasn’t either. What He Fei cared about was whether he could find Xiang Lei and bring him back as soon as possible. The idea of waiting twenty years for a reunion—or even just three or five—was unbearable.

283

He Fei tried every possible method but still couldn’t find a phone number that might lead him to Xiang Lei. He sent a registered letter to the address he had managed to obtain, but it was returned after half a month with the notation: Addressee unknown. Those words sent a jolt of fear through He Fei!

He Fei met Shi Zhuo for drinks and anxiously asked him, “Do you think that idiot Xiang Lei might’ve killed himself?” Shi Zhuo immediately scolded him for talking nonsense. Still panicked, He Fei said, “But that’s how his novels always ended! You don’t think he’d really be that stupid, do you?” Seeing how distraught He Fei was, Shi Zhuo softened and reassured him, “No, no way. Don’t worry. Xiang Lei’s probably just holed up in some remote mountain area, taking time to clear his head.”

At the end of September 2005, Wei Tong finished his judicial exam and met up with He Fei. He Fei eagerly asked if he had managed to contact Xiang Lei, but Wei Tong replied, “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Xiang Lei had notified Wei Tong before leaving, but he hadn’t mentioned signing up for the Western Volunteers program. It wasn’t until the day Xiang Lei left, when He Fei asked Wei Tong for other ways to reach him, that Wei Tong realized something had happened between them. Wei Tong told He Fei, “I really don’t get it. Why would Xiang Lei cut off contact with even his old friends?”

He Fei said bitterly, “He’s afraid I’ll track him down! He hasn’t contacted Shi Zhuo either! This is his way of getting back at me!”

He Fei couldn’t help feeling a surge of resentment. Back then, they had only agreed to take some time apart, not to break up. No matter what, he shouldn’t have been this ruthless, right? That day, before leaving, He Fei had even said he’d come back for him in the evening, and Xiang Lei had promised to wait!

Wei Tong told He Fei that applications for the Western Volunteers program had opened in late April or early May, followed by a selection process, with final placements announced in June. Wei Tong speculated that the incident with the club might have affected Xiang Lei deeply—he had never mentioned volunteering before.

No, that’s not it! That’s not what happened!

He Fei knew that while Xiang Lei was kind-hearted, he wasn’t as selfless as someone like Xu Benyu¹A Chinese graduate student who became a national role model for altruism. In 2003, he famously gave up his postgraduate studies to become a volunteer teacher in a remote, impoverished mountainous region of Guizhou. His story of self-sacrifice earned him widespread media attention, and he was named one of the “Ten People Who Moved China” in 2004.. His decision had likely been made in a moment of impulse, an impulse born from… from the despair he had felt throughout May!

Thinking of that despair, He Fei suddenly felt ashamed of his own resentment.

284

During the National Day holiday in 2005, He Fei went to Yunnan alone.

He took a plane, a train, a bus, and even a farmer’s motorized tricycle—using almost every mode of transportation imaginable—before finally arriving at the small town of Banka, deep in the mountains.

For a moment, He Fei almost lost himself in excitement, as if he were about to see Xiang Lei at any second.

He carefully considered what he should do when he saw him. Punch him? Vent his grievances? Yell at him? Or just smile? If the latter, should it be a relieved smile or a challenging smirk as he said, Well? Laozi found you anyway!

In the end, He Fei never found Xiang Lei.

He went to the address he had been given, but the people there insisted that no university graduate volunteer from Beijing had been assigned to their township. He Fei said it was impossible, and they replied that it wasn’t unheard of for volunteers to be reassigned elsewhere, but in any case, there was definitely no such person in Banka.

They suggested He Fei inquire at the county office. Just as he was about to set off, he received a call from home—his grandfather was critically ill. He Fei rushed back to Beijing without delay. Fortunately, his grandfather pulled through.

He Fei suddenly wondered if there really was such a thing as fate. Maybe if he had gone to the county office, he would have found out where Xiang Lei was working. But fate had decreed that he shouldn’t go.

Then again, even if he had seen Xiang Lei, what could he have done? Bring him back? Stay there himself? Neither seemed possible. All He Fei wanted was to find Xiang Lei as soon as possible, look him in the eye, and say firmly: You need to know this—I’m still fucking waiting for you!

285

The first half-year after starting work passed in a daze. He Fei barely met his sales targets. Once he scraped by the minimum quota each month, he considered it mission accomplished. He often met Shi Zhuo for meals and drinks but rarely brought up Xiang Lei. He Fei knew that if Xiang Lei had contacted Shi Zhuo, Shi Zhuo wouldn’t hide it from him.

Shi Zhuo was also in sales, dealing in building materials. Seeing how freely Shi Zhuo spent money, He Fei figured he must be doing well, which made him feel a bit ashamed. Shi Zhuo suggested He Fei switch to his company—he could put in a good word. He Fei gladly agreed.

The two of them became colleagues. He Fei trained under Shi Zhuo, and gradually, his work began to improve. He became busier and more fulfilled.

In April 2006, He Fei lost his phone. Since he hadn’t provided a copy of his ID when he bought the SIM card at a newsstand, he couldn’t get a replacement. The first thing he thought of was that Xiang Lei’s volunteer service would soon be ending. If Xiang Lei tried to contact him, he might not be able to reach him. Worried, He Fei repeatedly reminded Shi Zhuo and Wei Tong not to change their numbers. He also updated his new number in the Alumni Directory. Hoping the directory might hold some trace of Xiang Lei, he spent an hour or two combing through possible leads but found nothing.

286

During the May Day holiday in 2006, He Fei went to Yunnan again.

Picking up where he had left off, He Fei inquired at the county office and finally learned Xiang Lei’s whereabouts. It turned out Xiang Lei had indeed been reassigned—to a mountain village called Dayakou.

He Fei immediately set off, making his way to the village after several transfers.

When the villagers heard he was looking for Xiang Lei, they gathered around, greeting him warmly yet shyly. Someone told him Xiang Lei had taken a two-week leave due to family matters and had left just a few days earlier. Another said Xiang Lei probably wouldn’t be coming back—if he extended his leave by a few more days, it would be time for him to leave for good.

He Fei urgently asked if they knew what had happened in Xiang Lei’s family, but the villagers all shook their heads.

Disappointed, He Fei left the village and headed to Lijiang instead.

That night in the guesthouse, He Fei had a dream.

In the dream, he had started growing out his hair at some point, and in the blink of an eye, it had become a messy mane, accompanied by thick stubble along his jaw and chin.

This unkempt version of He Fei trekked a long, long mountain path before finally arriving at a lone classroom nestled in a valley. By then, he was exhausted.

Pressing his face against the window, He Fei peeked inside and was overjoyed to see Xiang Lei, looking just as he remembered, standing at the lectern, reciting ancient poetry with great seriousness. The children in the classroom all turned their heads to stare at the stranger outside.

When Xiang Lei noticed He Fei, he asked the class, “Whose parent is this? Please raise your hand.”

No one raised a hand.

He Fei pushed open the door, burst into the classroom, and tears welled up in his eyes.

“Are you stupid? It’s me!”

The children were dismissed early, cheering as they scattered in all directions. He Fei wanted to embrace and kiss Xiang Lei right there in the classroom, but Xiang Lei firmly pushed him away. He Fei sulked, ignoring all of Xiang Lei’s questions—Are you tired? Thirsty? Hungry? Xiang Lei kept trying to coax him, but nothing worked.

Once they reached Xiang Lei’s place, He Fei suddenly couldn’t stay mad any longer. He wrapped his arms tightly around Xiang Lei from behind and refused to let go. Xiang Lei, torn between laughter and exasperation, finally managed to free himself after much cajoling.

Xiang Lei personally gave He Fei a haircut and shaved his beard, then handed him a small broken mirror. When He Fei looked at his reflection, he was surprised to see that Xiang Lei had actually made him look presentable.

They lay face to face on Xiang Lei’s hard bed, silent. Perhaps both of them knew that if their eyes welled up with tears, it would only interfere with their ability to take in every detail of each other’s faces. So, by unspoken agreement, they held back the flood.

A line from a TV drama’s ending theme suddenly came to mind: Lying face to face, I still miss you. He Fei thought the lyricist must have experienced a moment just like this.

He Fei said to Xiang Lei, “Come back with me.”

Xiang Lei said to He Fei, “Stay here with me.”

After some thought, He Fei finally decided to stay.

And so, the mountain village’s classroom gained one more student.

He was too tall. He sat in the last row, and when he perched on the stool, his knees were higher than the desk. His legs couldn’t even fit beneath it. He wasn’t a good student—he always caused trouble in class in all sorts of ways. Sometimes, he’d annoy the teacher and get punished by standing or being sent out of the classroom. Once kicked out, he’d disappear in no time. By the time school ended, he’d suddenly reappear, bare feet covered in mud, pant legs rolled up to his knees, holding a few small fish in each hand, a straw hat perched on his head, a mischievous grin on his face.

But the children loved this new classmate because they could tell he liked them just as much as their teacher did. The teacher taught them to read and write, while this new classmate taught them how to play freely.

Waking from the dream at midnight, He Fei’s heart felt as hollow as the darkness in the room. Such deep shadows should have been filled with something, so why, when he reached out, could he grasp nothing at all?

The next day, He Fei went to Jade Dragon Snow Mountain alone.

The wind was fierce on the mountain. Walking along the cliffside boardwalk, He Fei couldn’t help but think, If only Xiang Lei were here with me! With wind this strong, a path this dangerous, and a drop this deep, if Xiang Lei were beside him, He Fei would surely worry he might slip and fall. He would instinctively reach out and hold his hand.

Looking back, He Fei couldn’t recall ever doing such a thing before.

In all that time they’d spent together, if He Fei had wanted to—if he could have—he would have just pulled Xiang Lei into an embrace. When had he ever settled for just holding his hand?

On the cable car ride down, He Fei turned to look back at Jade Dragon Snow Mountain and silently vowed: Wait for me. I’ll come back—with him.

287

By the winter of 2006, there was still no word from Xiang Lei.

Anything, once it becomes a habit, either shifts from resistance to acceptance—like when He Fei first came to terms with the fact that his relationship with Xiang Lei went beyond brotherhood—or fades from urgency into indifference, like He Fei’s longing for Xiang Lei now.

How long can you wait for someone?

He Fei thought that one day, he might unconsciously forget Xiang Lei entirely. That wouldn’t mean he no longer wanted him to return—just that, deep down, he’d accept the reality beyond that desire.

During a casual chat, an old high school buddy shared an embarrassing story from his recent past.

The previous weekend, this friend and a few others had passed by a bar near Xingfu Village’s Lianbao Apartments and, on a whim, wandered inside. The moment they stepped in, they realized something was off—the TV behind the counter was playing a clip of two men being intimate, and most of the patrons were men in flamboyant outfits. The group quickly grasped that they’d accidentally walked into a gay bar and fled in a panic.

For days afterward, He Fei couldn’t shake the urge to go there himself. The more he resisted, the stronger the impulse grew.

That weekend, He Fei actually went.

ON OFF Bar—that was the place.

He Fei sat in a corner, ordered a few beers.

It was his first time seeing so many people like himself gathered in one place. Some sat in small groups on the couches around the dance floor, laughing and joking with high spirits; others paired off, swaying freely to the music. He Fei wasn’t there to meet anyone—he just wanted to understand why Xiang Lei and Wei Tong used to come here so often.

He felt an indescribable lightness, a kind of relief he’d never known before.

In the bathroom, He Fei noticed small, neatly wrapped packages by the sink, each printed with a red ribbon in the shape of the character “又.” Curious, he picked one up—it was a condom. He chuckled and tossed it back. Then he sensed someone at the next sink glancing repeatedly in his direction.

He Fei neither looked back nor cared to.

Several people asked if the seat across from him was taken. He always said yes.

But then someone sat down without asking, giving He Fei no chance to say it wasn’t available.

“It’s you, right?” the person across from him blurted.

In the dim light, He Fei recognized him—it was Dongzi.

Out of some lingering guilt for yelling at him over the phone, He Fei gave Dongzi his number again. Dongzi seemed to hold no grudge, repeatedly expressing how thrilled he was by this coincidence.

Later, Dongzi asked, “I think I can guess why you lashed out that day. Was it right when you two were breaking up?” He Fei admitted it was, and Dongzi said, “It’s fine. Most gay relationships end like this. If you want to move on, you have to learn to let go.”

The words stunned He Fei. He couldn’t tell if this attitude came from Dongzi’s youth and immaturity or from a worldliness that belied his age.

Either way, He Fei thought, This has nothing to do with me.

Then came the 2007 Spring Festival, and afterward, He Fei slipped into a year of chaos. He told himself it didn’t matter, even as he subconsciously made excuses.

If the mind scorns its own actions, isn’t that still a kind of helplessness?

On a business trip to Chengdu, He Fei mentioned it offhand in a call with Dongzi, who was home in Chongqing for winter break. The next day, Dongzi showed up in Chengdu without warning, naturally staying in He Fei’s hotel room and insisting on sharing the bed. That was when He Fei realized his self-control was shockingly weak—or maybe nonexistent.

Dongzi didn’t want to turn off the lights, but He Fei insisted on making love in the dark. Dongzi finally gave in.

At the climax, He Fei involuntarily gasped, “Leizi…” then collapsed onto Dongzi, unwilling to move. Dongzi asked softly, “Are you still thinking about him?” The sound of his voice beneath him sent a sharp pang through He Fei’s chest, nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

Back in Beijing, Dongzi introduced He Fei to many friends, presenting him as his boyfriend. He Fei didn’t rush to correct him. He didn’t consider what they had a relationship, but he couldn’t be bothered to deny it either—because whether he admitted or denied it, to He Fei, it made no real difference.

He Fei also visited a Beijing gay chatroom once and met a shy senior named Song Yue, from Heze, Shandong. Introverted, wearing frameless glasses and sporting a thin mustache, dressed plainly—or rather, unfashionably. Seeing him, He Fei realized for the first time that a mustache on a reserved guy could actually look kind of cute.

He often invited Song Yue out to eat and talk but never intended for anything more to happen. Song Yue was so ordinary that he didn’t stir any physical desire in He Fei. Yet somehow, He Fei knew that if they ever crossed that line, he’d genuinely start to like him.

He Fei didn’t want to like him. Until he had news of Xiang Lei, he refused to like anyone.

He often bought Song Yue gifts, pulled strings to help him find a job. If He Fei called and found out Song Yue was waiting at a bus stop, he’d drive over immediately to take him wherever he needed to go. He Fei knew Song Yue was flustered by all this. Once, Song Yue tentatively asked if He Fei wanted to be with him, so He Fei told him about Xiang Lei.

At the same time, He Fei continued his lukewarm involvement with Dongzi.

One of Dongzi’s friends flirted with He Fei, and He Fei, finding it amusing, played along. The guy privately invited He Fei to his place, and He Fei went without a second thought.

It became easier and easier for He Fei to sleep with gay men he barely knew.

He grew more and more convinced that being a promiscuous gay man wasn’t such a big deal.

When Dongzi found out, he threw a few tantrums like a jealous girlfriend. He Fei remained indifferent. Dongzi had no choice—he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

Sometimes, they’d take the subway. He Fei would lean against the door, and Dongzi would nestle against his chest as if no one else were around. Once, He Fei noticed Dongzi shooting disgusted looks at a group of construction workers in hard hats. When they passed by, Dongzi pressed himself as far away as possible.

The sight made He Fei’s heart ache unbearably.

The person clinging to me isn’t—could never be—my Leizi.

Shi Zhuo asked what He Fei had been so busy with lately, why he’d been MIA for days at a time. He Fei said he was “entertaining a kid.” Shi Zhuo let out an “Oh,” his expression surprised, but he didn’t press further.

He Fei thought he probably wanted to ask, Aren’t you waiting for Xiang Lei anymore?

From that moment on, He Fei finally grew sick of this chaotic life. A few days later, he told Dongzi they shouldn’t see each other anymore. It turned into a bit of a mess, forcing He Fei to change his number again. As always, he updated it in the Alumni Directory and searched once more for any trace of Xiang Lei—still nothing.

By then, northern China was dry and brittle, while the south was ravaged by snowstorms. He Fei had no idea whether Xiang Lei was in the south or the north. The whole country was counting down to the Beijing Olympics, but He Fei didn’t know if Xiang Lei cared.

Dongzi left a message on QQ saying a mutual friend had tested positive for HIV and was completely shattered. Nervously, Dongzi suggested He Fei get tested too. Reluctantly, He Fei went. Thankfully, a year of recklessness hadn’t cost him the ultimate price.

288

On May 12, 2008, the Wenchuan earthquake struck. He Fei desperately wanted to know—was Xiang Lei in Sichuan? Or had he rushed there from somewhere else?

On August 8, 2008, the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony took place. He Fei longed to know if Xiang Lei had returned to the city for the spectacle or if, from some distant place, he was aching with nostalgia for Beijing.

At a convenience store, He Fei watched as a student asked for Pepsi, only to walk out when the clerk said they only had Coke. He stared at the boy’s retreating back, lost in thought.

On Youku, He Fei found a video of the school’s charity gala hosted by the Youth League Committee. The emcee announced that the Love & Care Society was now nine years old. He Fei laughed bitterly.

The club Xiang Lei had poured his heart into founding at the end of 2004 was now credited as an evolution of the Youth League’s “Love Aid Group.” They called it the school’s “window to the world,” a gathering of faculty and students’ “purest goodwill,” a thriving organization that had flourished under the League’s “careful nurturing” for nine years.

Furious, He Fei cursed under his breath, then couldn’t help but think of Xiang Lei with a pang of loneliness.

They say time teaches you to forget. But after over three years, there were still countless moments when some sight, some sound, would bring Xiang Lei rushing back—along with every scattered fragment of the past He Fei had left behind.

289

Early summer 2009, evening. He Fei sat in a taxi on Jingshun Road.

Traffic stalled at the Lido Hotel intersection. A freight company’s van aggressively cut into the lane beside them, drawing curses from the cabbie. He Fei glanced left and froze—the person in the passenger seat looked exactly like Xiang Lei. His heart hammered wildly.

He begged the driver to follow the van, but it sped through a yellow light while their cab was stuck at a red.

He Fei hated himself for being too lazy to drive today. It’s just a fucking red light! But even when He Fei offered ten times the fine, the driver refused to run it.

When the light turned green, He Fei urged the driver to keep going, to chase the van—but it was long gone. At the next intersection, the driver asked which way to turn.

He Fei slumped in his seat, too miserable to speak.

He hadn’t noted the company name or license plate. That glimpse of a profile was lost forever. Logically, He Fei knew it probably wasn’t Xiang Lei—but he needed to see the man’s face to be sure.

Noticing He Fei’s distress, the driver asked gently, “What’s wrong? That person…”

“He looked like a friend of mine. We haven’t seen each other in… four years.”

Overcome with anguish, He Fei had the cab pull over near a bridge. The moment he stepped out, tears burst forth uncontrollably. He leaned against the bridge pillar and sobbed openly, ignoring the stares of passersby.

Where the fuck are you?

He’d thought that with time, the pain would fade—that at the very least, it wouldn’t hurt as much as before. So why was he still this pathetic? You’d love this, wouldn’t you? But I don’t believe you’ve forgotten me—not completely.

A disheveled older woman carrying plastic bags full of withered water bottles hesitated, then approached. She pulled a crumpled tissue from her pocket and handed it to He Fei, her thick accent warm with concern: “Too many people here—don’t let ’em laugh at ya! A grown man like you, think hard—has anything ever happened that didn’t pass? It’ll pass!”

He Fei took the tissue, wiped his face half-heartedly, and nodded his thanks.

Will it pass? He Fei thought bleakly. No.

People always find a way to move past things—but this, for some, is the one thing that never just fades away.

The way things stood, He Fei was pretty sure he’d never get over it.

• 1
  A Chinese graduate student who became a national role model for altruism. In 2003, he famously gave up his postgraduate studies to become a volunteer teacher in a remote, impoverished mountainous region of Guizhou. His story of self-sacrifice earned him widespread media attention, and he was named one of the “Ten People Who Moved China” in 2004.