Chapter 19 – Does This Count As A Kiss?

It was Jiang Lou who let go first.

A low chuckle fell on his head, “Alright, I’m going to take a shower first.”

Slowly extricating himself from his embrace, Li Tang sniffed, about to wipe away his tears with his hand, when Jiang Lou handed him a tissue.

Just as he took it, Jiang Lou raised his hand, rubbing Li Tang’s head affectionately, “Don’t wander off, wait here for me.”

Li Tang obediently stayed put, using one tissue to wipe his eyes and another to blow his nose, folding the remaining one neatly in his hand.

After wiping, he took a few steps toward the wall, noticing in the mirror that his eyes were red-rimmed, his complexion as pale as paper, and there was a blood mark on his lips from where he had bitten them at some point—it wasn’t a pretty sight.

When Jiang Lou emerged from the shower, Li Tang was combing his hair with his fingers. He turned his head at the sound, only to hastily avert his gaze upon seeing that Jiang Lou wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Jiang Lou noticed Li Tang’s pretense, finding it amusing. He’d been dressed the same way earlier, yet Li Tang hadn’t seemed nervous when they embraced.

Taking a T-shirt out of the storage cabinet and slipping it on, he hung his jacket over his arm and slammed the cabinet door shut.

“Let’s go,” said Jiang Lou.

At the entrance, Li Tang retrieved his phone from the security guard, unlocking it to find something amiss—a crack had appeared on the screen.

On the bus, Li Tang borrowed Jiang Lou’s phone as a flashlight, examining it under the light, realizing that only the tempered glass screen protector had cracked.

Relieved, he returned the phone, looking up to see Jiang Lou staring at him, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Li Tang didn’t know what he was smiling about, feeling uncomfortable as he started a conversation, “Your phone was fine, right?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t answer all day.”

Jiang Lou looked down, unlocking his phone, and said in a tone of realization, “It was on silent, I didn’t notice.”

Checking his call history, he found twenty-eight missed calls from Li Tang.

More than he had expected.

The late-night buses always moved slower than during the day. Approaching the stop near Jiang Lou’s home, Li Tang stood up, following Jiang Lou towards the back door.

Jiang Lou, holding onto a strap, tilted his head to ask, “Not going back for night classes?”

“No, I won’t,” said Li Tang.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Jiang Lou said, “I won’t do anything stupid.”

Li Tang was slightly taken aback.

He knew everything indeed.

“I’ve taken leave,” Li Tang still said, “And there are a few math problems I wanted to ask you about.”

Jiang Lou pursed his lips, not saying anything more.

There were no stars or moon tonight, the wind was gentle, and it was particularly quiet.

Passing by the convenience store, Jiang Lou went in again to buy a bag of cat ears, handing it to Li Tang when they reached his doorstep.

Li Tang was mindful of how hard Jiang Lou worked for his money, “We don’t have to eat every time…”

Jiang Lou entered, turning on the lights, taking out the problem book from his backpack, and kicking out the plastic stool under the table in passing, “Then you can treat me next time.”

Li Tang liked the word “next time,” implying that their story would continue.

Smiling for the first time today, Li Tang replied cheerfully, “Deal.”

In half an hour, two problems were explained. Jiang Lou took out a draft notebook, writing a new problem of similar type on it, and stipulated that Li Tang solve it within ten minutes.

Li Tang groaned inwardly but didn’t dare to defy him on the surface, biting the end of his pen under the lamp while thinking. Before he could find a solution, he noticed Jiang Lou’s handwriting—bold and flowing, beautiful enough to be used as a model for imitation.

Not only his Chinese characters, but Jiang Lou’s English handwriting was also very good-looking, his English test papers were more suitable for display on the class bulletin board as model answers than Li Tang’s, who was the class representative.

Except for the listening section.

Due to the loss of hearing in one ear, Jiang Lou’s English listening comprehension was poor, often getting half of the twenty multiple-choice questions wrong. This seemingly insignificant “weakness” directly lowered Jiang Lou’s overall score. Li Tang calculated that if he only got two listening questions wrong, he could easily rank in the top three in the grade.

On one hand, he recognized Jiang Lou’s efforts and excellence, on the other, it was hard not to feel sorry for him.

If his parents were still alive, even if it was just one parent, his father, he could at least protect him. His ears wouldn’t have been injured, and he could stand at the peak of the mountains more easily.

He wouldn’t have to struggle so hard to make a living, pretending to be strong despite his pain.

Sensing Li Tang’s gaze, Jiang Lou lifted his head, “Finished?”

“Not… not yet,” Li Tang straightened up immediately, returning his attention to the problem.

Writing two lines, the tip of his pen moved slower and slower on the paper. Li Tang subtly leaned his body to the side, glancing over with the corner of his eye.

Caught red-handed.

Jiang Lou smiled at him, “Forget it, don’t write anymore, come help me with something.”

A minute later, Li Tang held a razor blade in his hand, sitting face-to-face with Jiang Lou, too bewildered to feel embarrassed.

“You’re saying I should use this to cut through the bruised skin?”

Jiang Lou nodded.

“Why?” Li Tang was somewhat incredulous, his voice slightly raised, “Isn’t that painful?”

“Letting the subcutaneous blood flow out will speed up healing,” said Jiang Lou.

He could roughly understand the principle behind it. Blood pooling under the skin would take at least a week to be absorbed naturally. However, if a cut was made to release the blood, the wound would quickly reduce swelling and no longer appear frighteningly purple and swollen.

However…

“But doing this can damage the skin tissue and possibly leave a scar,” Li Tang said anxiously.

“It’s better than having teachers see it and punishing me for fighting outside school.”

“But this is around your eye, what if I slip and hurt your eye—”

“You won’t,” said Jiang Lou, “You won’t let me get hurt, will you?”

Li Tang was speechless.

He didn’t know why Jiang Lou trusted him so much. Only he could be certain—yes, of course, how could I let you get hurt?

You’re already wounded, how could I bear to add to your pain.

Jiang Lou watched Li Tang from a foot away, his gaze clear.

“Go ahead,” he ordered in a deep voice.

Later, Li Tang couldn’t remember how he had steadied his nerves.

His hands trembled violently, gripping the razor blade tightly, allowing the sharp edge to pierce below his eyebrow. With a slight pressure, the skin split open, and the accumulated blood rushed out eagerly.

The blood was thick, appearing an unhealthy black in the dim light. It flowed slowly down the corner of his eye, sliding over his pale face, winding its way toward the corner of his mouth.

Like a snake slithering through the snow.

Watching all this happen, Li Tang’s limbs weakened, but his body continued to shake uncontrollably.

As if unable to feel pain, Jiang Lou didn’t blink, watching the person in front of him who was almost exhausted.

Parting his thin lips, he asked, “Have you seen a corpse before, one pierced through by countless steel bars?”

Taking a quick breath, Li Tang’s pupils dilated slightly, as if following Jiang Lou’s memory, truly seeing such a disfigured corpse.

That was Jiang Lou’s father.

To avoid a child crossing the road, his father stepped on the emergency brake, sacrificing himself, leaving his seven-year-old son alone in the world.

One couldn’t help but speculate: If he had known the outcome in advance, would he have made the same choice? To become a negligent father for the sake of an unrelated child?

Suddenly, a soft laugh was heard, it was Jiang Lou, grabbing Li Tang’s hand that still held the razor blade, asking him, “Scared now?”

Then he tilted his neck, leaning forward, pressing his bloody lips against Li Tang’s, warm and sticky.

Li Tang didn’t have time to react, instinctively holding his breath, his eyes reflecting Jiang Lou’s face magnified countless times, all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his heart at once.

His mind went blank.

When consciousness gradually returned, Li Tang didn’t immediately realize it, until he stuck out his tongue to lick, a metallic sweetness spread in his mouth, it was Jiang Lou’s blood.

“Once a person dies, the blood quickly coagulates and turns cold,” Jiang Lou withdrew, his eyes filled with a triumphant smile, “My blood is warm.”

Li Tang thought involuntarily of the phrase ‘licking blood off a blade.’

And Jiang Lou, seemed to be even sharper than a blade.

That voice was low, as if coming from an empty valley, “Once you taste it, you won’t be afraid anymore.”

This day, Li Tang returned home later than usual.

Entering, the lights in the guest room and dining room were brightly lit, assuming the aunt was still busy, Li Tang changed into his slippers and raised his head, seeing his mother, Zhang Zhaoyue, walking over.

“You’re back,” she spoke first.

Li Tang was momentarily stunned, lowering his eyes to conceal it and giving a simple “Mm-hmm.”

Zhang Zhaoyue led him to the dining room, going to the kitchen to ladle a bowl of soup and placing it in front of him, “Stewed this afternoon, try it.”

It was sour pickled cabbage old duck soup, which Zhang Zhaoyue used to cook occasionally, especially in autumn. It was fresh and delicious, warming the body and lungs.

Having not tasted his mother’s cooking for a long time, Li Tang felt a surge of bittersweet emotion, the rising steam from the soup bowl seemed to sting his eyes.

But actually, he didn’t particularly like eating duck, finding it fatty and greasy. The famous roasted duck dish from a well-known restaurant in the capital, he spat it out after taking one bite years ago.

Yet, sitting at the same table that year, Zhang Zhaoyue seemed to have forgotten.

It reminded Li Tang of another incident.

He started learning piano at the age of five, studying under a music teacher at the Youth Palace. Every Sunday afternoon, he had to go to the teacher’s house for lessons. Li Yuanshan was busy with work, so Zhang Zhaoyue was responsible for picking him up and dropping him off.

Around second grade, one time after class, Li Tang hugged his sheet music and stood downstairs at the teacher’s house, waiting for over half an hour, but Zhang Zhaoyue didn’t come to pick him up.

Although the memories of that time in Xucheng were blurred due to a fever, the fear of “Mom doesn’t want me anymore” remained vividly buried in his heart. Li Tang thought his mother had left again, abandoning him alone, and he burst into tears, alarming the teacher upstairs and almost attracting the attention of the police patrolling nearby.

In the end, Zhang Zhaoyue did arrive, explaining that she was delayed by traffic. Her hand holding Li Tang’s was ice-cold, yet Li Tang still gripped it tightly, not daring to let go.

On the way back, Zhang Zhaoyue had the driver stop in front of a food street, asking Li Tang, “Do you want to eat fried meat skewers?”

Li Tang still had tears in the corners of his eyes, but swallowed his saliva.

Li Yuanshan didn’t allow him to eat these “junk foods” sold at roadside stalls, and he also instructed his mother and the aunt at home not to buy them for him.

Therefore, when he saw Zhang Zhaoyue return, Li Tang’s heart was filled with joy and anticipation.

However, when the car door opened, the meat skewer Zhang Zhaoyue handed over was sprinkled with cumin and chili powder. Li Tang was afraid of spicy food, but didn’t want to disappoint his mother’s intentions, so he ate it reluctantly.

Later, Li Tang realized that those meat skewers were a form of compensation.

Like this bowl of soup now.

Although he didn’t like it that much, it was enough to comfort him, enough to make him forget the sadness of being neglected.

After finishing the soup and washing his hands, seeing the red corners of his mouth in the mirror, Li Tang suddenly remembered he hadn’t told Jiang Lou that he had arrived home.

He returned to his room and sent a message. During the wait for a reply, Li Tang lay in bed, unable to resist touching his lips again.

Aside from the trembling from fear, it seemed to still retain some warmth.

He just didn’t know if that counted as a kiss.

When the phone vibrated, Jiang Lou was sitting in a chair, facing the window by the door, the faint light from the rabbit lantern melting into the depths of his dark eyes.

Picking up the phone, he tapped to play the voice message. Li Tang said, “I’m home.”

A moment later, he sent another message, “I drank the soup, my whole body is warmed up.”

Jiang Lou asked what kind of soup it was, Li Tang replied, “Sour pickled cabbage old duck soup, my mother’s specialty.”

“Is that so,” said Jiang Lou, “I really wish I could taste it.”

He still stared at the rabbit lantern, and at that rusted nail.

He remembered twelve years ago today, the yellow calendar hanging there said it was auspicious to meet friends and relatives, so he faced the strange child visiting his home with kindness and patience.

But kindness never ended well, like his father, a momentary decision, and he died without a complete body. Since he had acted on his own initiative to drive the truck home during working hours, he didn’t even receive the honor of a hero posthumously.

The phone vibrated again, Li Tang’s tone was light, “Then come to my house next time.”

Jiang Lou lifted the phone to his lips, “Okay.”

All the lights in the room were turned off, Jiang Lou sat in the center of the darkness, as if surrounded by ruins.

Invisible chains bound him tightly.

His body could freely walk out, but his soul remained trapped in place.