55. Cloud Box Part 4

Lu Zhengming really knew how to tempt a man.

Yin Yan’s desire was instantly stirred, though he feigned restraint. “First time at your place. Isn’t it a bit inappropriate?”

Lu Zhengming gave him a mocking look, pulled out his keys to open the door, then yanked him inside and bit his lips.

There was a smell in the air, both unfamiliar and familiar. The kind found in many old homes. Smoke from cooking, human scent, cleaning products, and other hard-to-name traces that had soaked into the walls and floors, furniture and fabrics over the years. It was the scent of this particular family, and no other.

The moment Yin Yan stepped inside, he felt like he had trespassed into someone else’s private world. He pushed Lu Zhengming lightly, trying to hold back. Immersed in that lingering scent, he could not indulge himself so brazenly.

Lu Zhengming didn’t press him. He simply gave his ass a squeeze. He hadn’t returned home much these past few years. After setting down his backpack, he began to scan the room for changes.

As always, everything remained exactly where it had been. Even the fruit tray on the table hadn’t moved. As he walked past it, Lu Zhengming could reach into the bowl without even looking.

A gouache still life he had painted during his college entrance exam prep still hung on the living room wall. His parents had never cared for his abstract work, preferring the fruit and tableware from those exam-period paintings. In their words, it looked like something you’d actually hang in a decent home.

Yin Yan was quite taken with the paintings. He studied them for a long while, stroking his chin. “How long did you train for?”

“If you’re asking about formal training, less than a year. It was a cram school thing.”

“You’ve got talent.”

“Of course I do.”

Lu Zhengming smiled, opened the fridge, found nothing suitable to serve, and poured Yin Yan a glass of water instead.

“I switched paths halfway through. In my second year of high school, I refused to follow the usual track and insisted on studying painting. Before that, I was just doodling for fun.”

“You liked drawing as a kid?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t as outgoing then. Barely talked. Didn’t have any friends. Drawing was the only thing I could do to pass time alone. People thought what I drew was kinda interesting, but they never took it seriously. Later, when I told them I wanted to take up art, my dad almost beat the crap out of me.”

“Hard to imagine you were ever like that as a kid. So how’d you become who you are now?”

Lu Zhengming blinked. “What do you mean, ‘who I am now’?”

Yin Yan cradled the glass in his hands. The water reflected his face, and Lu Zhengming’s, too. “My first impression of you was that you were confident. Sharp. And very charming.”

Lu Zhengming smiled and wrapped an arm around him, leaning in to share the water’s reflection. The two silhouettes mirrored in the surface were so close they seemed to blur together.

“That all came later.”

“When?”

“Right after puberty. High school. When I realized I was good-looking.” He grinned, a little smug.

Yin Yan chuckled. “And then you started enjoying it?”

“Ahh—” Lu Zhengming’s voice trailed off. “It was like a poor man suddenly coming into money. Never had attention before, so I just… didn’t say no to anyone.”

Yin Yan let out a quiet, vaguely sour scoff. Lu Zhengming was delighted by the sound. He leaned in to kiss his cheek and said, “But I don’t remember ever falling for anyone. Except you.”

“Is there really a difference between love and not love?”

“It’s like the difference between wanting to sleep and wanting to fuck. Some people, once you’re done, all you want is a shower and to get the hell out. Some you might give a second round, if the mood’s right… hey, don’t make that face, I’m sorry… there’s no ‘some people,’ I don’t remember a single one of them…”

“Enough.”

Yin Yan’s expression darkened, which was rare. Lu Zhengming was nervous, but there was also a hidden thrill running through him.

“You’re different,” Lu Zhengming said seriously. “Ever since that night I met you, I haven’t been able to forget you. It wasn’t just about wanting to fuck. I wanted to talk to you. About these past few years. You gave me a really strong first impression too, so good it actually made me feel inferior. Then you ignored me. And then everything else happened… You have no idea how surprised and excited I was that night. It was like something inside me suddenly became clear. At the time, I didn’t even realize what it meant.”

His voice trembled slightly, just like it had that night. Yin Yan pressed a kiss to his temple to calm him.

“Before going to Qingdao, when I stayed at your place, that was the first time I realized I wanted to sleep next to you. Every night. Wake up and see you in the morning. That was when I finally understood, I must’ve fallen in love with you. It was nothing like anything I’d ever felt before. If that wasn’t love, then I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love with anyone again. Yin Yan, no one can compare to you. No one could ever be better than you… I love you.”

His body was still shaking. Yin Yan stared at the water in the glass. He saw his own reflection trembling as well. A pang of guilt rose in him. It felt like the reflection had betrayed what he was trying to hide. He downed the water in one go. It spilled from the corner of his lips like a secret that refused to stay hidden.

When he finished, his voice was calm again. “Why does sleeping together mean love?”

Lu Zhengming also settled. “Funny, you remind me of a dog I had when I was a kid. A white labrador. It always slept beside me.”

“You’ve mentioned it before.”

“It had such a gentle temperament, like it didn’t even have a temper. No matter how I teased it, it never got mad. I didn’t bully it for nothing though. I gave it all the good food I had.” Lu Zhengming wrapped his arms around him tightly. “I loved hugging it when I slept. If something upset me during the day, or if I got scolded, I’d cuddle with it and everything would be okay… Later, it got lost. I couldn’t sleep for a long time. And then, well… you know the rest.”

“So after going through so many people, you still couldn’t find that feeling again, until you met me.”

“It’s different with you. Being with you feels even better. Oh—”

He let go of Yin Yan, opened the cabinet in the living room, and dug out a photo album. He spread it open and handed it to him.

“Here. That’s the one.”

In the faded, reddish color photo, a little boy about four or five years old in a sailor-striped shirt was clinging to a large white dog, shyly avoiding the camera.

Yin Yan ran his fingers over the photo, a soft smile appearing on his face. “You looked really different back then.”

“Yeah. Back then, there was nothing about me that my mom could brag about. I was just an ordinary kid. No friends. My parents cared a lot about what I ate and wore, but they didn’t care what I thought…”

They sat together on the living room couch. Yin Yan flipped through the album page by page, looking at the versions of Lu Zhengming he had never known.

“I understand how that feels,” he said softly, closing the album.

Lu Zhengming held his hand. The room went quiet.

After a while, he opened the album again and started telling the stories behind the photos, going from back to front. Yin Yan smiled now and then, clearly interested. When they reached the pages with the dog, Lu Zhengming grew thoughtful.

“It was always so well-behaved. Never ran off. I still don’t know why it did that day. I had just taken it outside when it suddenly bolted. A few minutes later, I couldn’t catch up. I asked my dad to help me look, and he came back quickly saying it was gone. My mom never liked dogs. She kept saying we should give it away… For years I hated them both for that. I kept thinking they must’ve found it and secretly gave it away. Looking back, I was just being childish. If it’s lost, then it’s lost. Denying reality doesn’t change anything…”

Yin Yan sighed and gave his hand a squeeze. He was just about to say something when Lu Zhengming’s phone rang.

“Mom? I’ve been home for a while. It’s fine, I can handle it… He’s sleeping in my room. It’s okay, we’ll squeeze in. Worst case, I’ll sleep on the floor… Alright, alright, stop worrying. What do you want for lunch? Should I bring something over? Oh, okay. We’ll eat ourselves then…”

Yin Yan couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but from Lu Zhengming’s relaxed, slightly impatient expression, he caught a glimpse of something he had once longed for.

“Don’t hang up! Mom, I want to ask you something…”

Lu Zhengming set the phone on his thigh and switched it to speaker. “Do you remember our dog?”

“What dog?”

“The big white one I had as a kid. I always used to sleep with it.”

“Oh… that was ages ago. Why are you asking about it now?”

“Did it really go missing back then? You and Dad were always talking about giving it away. So was it really lost, or did you give it away?”

Lu Zhengming’s voice suddenly grew tight. He glanced at Yin Yan, who was still holding his hand.

“It died.”

Lu Zhengming froze. “What? What do you mean, it died?”

“The dog. It was hit by a car.”

“That’s impossible. It never ran off. It even crossed the street following pedestrians…”

“Sigh, you really don’t remember. Do you remember what you fed it that day?”

“What did I… feed it?”

Lu Zhengming gripped Yin Yan’s hand tightly. A sinking feeling settled in his chest.

“Your dad brought home a box of liquor chocolates. It was supposed to be a gift. I looked away for one second, and you and the dog split the whole thing.”

“When was that? I don’t remember at all…”

“Of course you don’t. When we found you, you were asleep on a bench in the park. The dog was lying in the street outside, its fur stained red… You were too young back then. Your dad didn’t want me to tell you the truth. If you hadn’t asked just now, I might’ve forgotten about it myself… What made you think of it?”

Lu Zhengming did not move. It was as if even his breath had stopped.

“Hello? Zhengming? Hello…?”
Bzzzt—bzzzt—bzzzt—

A few seconds later, the phone rang again. It buzzed off his thigh and hit the floor. No one picked it up.

When it rang a third time, Yin Yan answered it.

“Auntie, it’s me, Xiao Yin… Oh, no, no, everything’s fine. Zhengming’s just out helping me arrange accommodations… Really, it’s nothing, we were just chatting… Alright, you rest too. Bye.”

Yin Yan stood by the windowsill while he spoke, giving Lu Zhengming space to be alone.

When the call ended, he returned to the couch. Lu Zhengming was still frozen in the same position, as still as a sculpture of ice. The moment Yin Yan touched his shoulder, he collapsed inward like something caving in, curling up as a pained moan escaped his throat. His shoulders trembled in jagged, uneven spasms. It looked like he was crying, but when he finally lifted his face, there were no tears in his eyes, only streaks of red.

Lu Zhengming was filled with hatred.

He had never stopped to think about what kind of role he played in the lives of others. It was only when the facts struck him one after another that he realized the only thing he ever brought was destruction. Friends, students, lovers, none were spared.

He wanted to kill himself.

And Yin Yan just stood beside him in silence, watching him. The way he once watched himself, when his father killed himself because of him, when his mother had her breakdown and he stood there, medicine in hand, unmoved.

Blue skies and white clouds were nothing more than a fantasy sealed inside a glass box. Once a crack formed, the illusion was gone. Heaven and hell were separated by only a single wall. He had walked into hell with his eyes wide open, but Lu Zhengming had been thrown out of heaven without even knowing it.

He had finally fallen into the same abyss. Yin Yan was no longer alone.

He could not quite describe what he felt. It was like one drowning man meeting another in the same dark water, joined by pity and despair. Or like a lonely ghost grasping another drifter, seeking a moment of warmth in a cold embrace.

He said, “I know what that feels like.”

Lu Zhengming didn’t know if he meant it, but he wanted to believe it was not just consolation.

Yin Yan crouched down in front of him, looked into his eyes, and said,

“I understand.”

And Lu Zhengming believed him. Completely. He wrapped his arms around Yin Yan’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. Something abstract and inarticulable welled up inside him. Those drowning and drifting souls may have lost all form, but the emotion remained vivid and real.

In that moment, even if their hearts didn’t fully connect, their feelings were the same.

Yin Yan let out a soft breath, kissed him on the lips, then undid his collar to reveal the collar at his neck.

He dropped to his knees, stepped backward on them, and placed his palms on the ground. Then, on all fours, he crawled toward Lu Zhengming.

“Zhengming… do you want to keep another dog?”