Chapter 6

Lin Ze and Xie Chenfeng had grown much closer. When they didn’t see each other during the day, they often kept in touch via WeChat, chatting about this and that.

Xie Chenfeng: [Have you eaten? I’m in a meeting in Hechuan. Middle schoolers these days are so bold—they straight-up asked me out to eat.]

Lin Ze: [Oh? Boy or girl? Gay?]

Xie Chenfeng: [Boy, obviously. Said he wants to apply to the sports college but his physical condition isn’t good enough, so he asked me to train him. Doesn’t look like a sports student either, just making excuses—probably trying to hit on me.]

Lin Ze: [Hahaha, have you seen that [REDACTED] sports teacher GV? Be careful not to get tied up and S/M’d by a bunch of middle schoolers.]

Xie Chenfeng: [What the hell, Laozi’s a black belt in taekwondo. You think I’d let someone tie me up for S/M?]

Lin Ze: [Yeah, keep bragging. Weren’t you a high jumper?]

Xie Chenfeng: [Don’t believe me? I took taekwondo as an elective in college too. Come try me.]

Lin Ze: [On me? You wanna beat me up?]

Xie Chenfeng: [Stick with me, and you won’t have to worry about getting robbed.]

And so, the two of them chatted idly like this every day. Xie Chenfeng was away for three days at a recruitment meeting for special talent students, and Lin Ze sometimes even talked to him on the phone.

At the same time, the resumes he had sent out earlier, forwarded by friends, started getting responses.

Four media outlets had notified Lin Ze for interviews. On the day he finished one at a website, Xie Chenfeng was waiting for him downstairs. After not seeing each other for days, Xie Chenfeng seemed even more radiant. Lin Ze, carrying a backpack with his news portfolio, smiled at him across the street.

Xie Chenfeng’s expression was unmistakable—I missed you.

Xie Chenfeng reeked of cologne. “Why’d you spray so much perfume?”, Lin Ze complained.

Xie Chenfeng: “Did I?” He lifted his shirt to sniff himself, revealing his toned, bronze abs, and explained, “It’s sports deodorant for sweat…”

Lin Ze: “Usually, people who douse themselves in perfume are either too effeminate…”

Xie Chenfeng, torn between laughter and tears: “You think I’m effeminate?”

Lin Ze continued: “…or trying to cover something up. Does your shirt stink of sweat? How many days has it been since you washed it? It smells like a weird mix.”

Xie Chenfeng looked slightly awkward and chuckled. “I don’t have a washing machine at home, so I hand-wash everything. Might’ve used too much disinfectant.”

Lin Ze: “Give me your clothes. I’ll wash them for you—I have a washing machine.”

Xie Chenfeng: “Next time. I don’t have many clothes, and if I hang them at your place, I won’t have anything to wear… How was the interview?”

Lin Ze was happy to share his interview experience, but first, he reached out to lift Xie Chenfeng’s T-shirt and peek at his abs. Xie Chenfeng’s six-pack was well-defined, and he gave Lin Ze a strange look. “What are you doing?”

Lin Ze: “Checking for any S/M bondage marks.”

Xie Chenfeng yanked his shirt back down and made a mock punching gesture at Lin Ze, who laughed. “The interview was okay. I don’t think they liked my type—thought I was too naive.”

Xie Chenfeng: “What did they ask?”

Lin Ze thought for a moment. “Why I chose their newspaper, why I want to be a journalist, what my career plans are… Then they gave me an open-ended assignment to improvise on the spot—basically, to imagine an interview without considering political sensitivity, layout, or sourcing difficulties. I think they didn’t like my stance. Told me to wait for a call. It’s fine, though—I have three more interviews this week. I’ll see how it goes.”

Xie Chenfeng took Lin Ze out to dinner. Afterward, he seemed like he wanted to say something, hesitating.

Lin Ze could tell—Xie Chenfeng wanted to go to a hotel with him. To sleep together.

Lin Ze was tempted too, but Zheng Jie had lost his keychain and hadn’t gotten a replacement yet. When he called, Lin Ze had to go back to let him in. By the time they reached the bus stop, it was already 10 p.m. Lin Ze reached out, hooking his finger lightly with Xie Chenfeng’s before letting go.

“Yao’er, I’ll come find you tomorrow,” Xie Chenfeng said, squeezing sideways onto the bus.

Lin Ze smiled. “Yeah, text me.”

With a pet name like that, he’d have to be the bottom. Lin Ze saw Xie Chenfeng off, slightly amused and slightly exasperated. He went home to let in Zheng Jie, who was dead tired, and thus ended another day.

—

The next day, after the second interview:

Lin Ze trudged listlessly under the scorching sun.

The sky over Mountain City was oppressive, like a giant steamer, turning everyone into sweaty little dumplings.

Xie Chenfeng, wearing sunglasses to look cool: “Got time today?”

“Of course.” Lin Ze checked his watch—4 p.m. “What’s up?”

Xie Chenfeng: “Come clothes shopping with me. My clothes aren’t dry yet.”

Lin Ze: “That’s a terrible excuse. You only have two sets of clothes?!”

Xie Chenfeng: “Mhm. I’m frugal.”

Lin Ze: “Could’ve fooled me with all the eating out and shopping.”

Xie Chenfeng laughed. Lin Ze headed for the light rail. “I know where to get trendy, cheap clothes. Follow me…”

Like a pair of leaves floating on a sea of people, they drifted from Jiangbei to Nanping.

Lin Ze watched their reflections in the train window, his expression dim. The interview today hadn’t gone well either.

“So,” Xie Chenfeng said, as if reading his mind, “you’re too idealistic. Finding a job that fits you isn’t easy.”

Lin Ze shook his head. “No, I think a lot of things in life balance each other out.”

He made a twisting gesture with his hands, explaining to Xie Chenfeng: “Sometimes, when you gain something in one area, you’re bound to face setbacks in another…”

Xie Chenfeng: “?”

Lin Ze couldn’t explain it too bluntly, so he just made a vague gesture and dropped it.

Xie Chenfeng: “I don’t get it.”

Lin Ze didn’t answer. Xie Chenfeng tilted his head, puzzled. Worried that further questions would draw too much attention in the crowded train, Lin Ze relented. “When the cup is full, it spills; when the moon is full, it wanes.”

Xie Chenfeng: “I don’t see how that connects to what you just said.”

Lin Ze: “Fortune and misfortune are intertwined. Life has its ups and downs. If you’re on a lucky streak, you should start being careful—because what comes next might be a blow to your career or love life. But after the blow, things will slowly get better. Not only that, but it’s rare to have both career and… well, personal happiness at the same time.”

Xie Chenfeng grinned. “Are you trying to say, ‘lucky in love, unlucky in work’?”

Lin Ze’s smile started small, a dimple appearing, before he finally cracked up, leaning against the railing.

“That’s just superstition,” Xie Chenfeng remarked. “You don’t believe in having both career and love success?”

Lin Ze looked pained—this conversation was getting way too… direct.

“I believe it,” Lin Ze replied. “Just maybe not right now.”

As they got off the light rail, Xie Chenfeng mused, “I often think I’ve hit rock bottom, but then life proves there’s always a deeper abyss. There’s no ‘worst’—only ‘worse.'”

Lin Ze: “Then that just means you can still handle it. You’re far from breaking. What’s that saying again? ‘When Heaven is about to place a great responsibility on a man…'”

Xie Chenfeng: “Spare me. I’ve heard that middle school textbook line enough. Last week, when I met you, was my lowest point.”

Lin Ze: “Okay, fine, I have a lecturing habit… Anyway, I didn’t even eat that day before leaving…”

Xie Chenfeng: “Right. I figured, if things were already this bad, meeting you couldn’t make it worse.”

Lin Ze laughed. “And now your luck’s turning around, isn’t it?”

Xie Chenfeng thought for a moment, then nodded solemnly.

Lin Ze took Xie Chenfeng to Starlight 68. “Throw your wallet away. I’m buying you clothes today and treating you to IMAX.”

“Deal.” Xie Chenfeng followed him through the colorful arcade. “But clothes here aren’t cheap. You sure?”

Lin Ze led him to a mid-range men’s brand store, where Zheng Jie was furiously chewing out an employee in the back.

Xie Chenfeng shook his head helplessly. Lin Ze whistled at Zheng Jie, who had a similar haircut to Xie Chenfeng and was wearing a white shirt. Zheng Jie signaled for them to wait, finished his tirade with a final “get back to work,” and came over to greet them.

Zheng Jie was now making enough to scrape by—four or five thousand with bonuses in peak season, two or three thousand otherwise. This was a new store with terrible performance, but it was still much better than when they’d first entered the workforce.

His first job had been at Jeanswest, where he had to wear their clothes, clap at the entrance, and shout along to the store’s rock music: “Welcome to Jeanswest! Come take a look!” Now, as an assistant manager, his salary wasn’t much higher, but at least he had some authority.

“These are new arrivals. Pick whatever,” Zheng Jie said, nodding at Xie Chenfeng. Lin Ze asked, “Wanna catch a movie tonight?”

Zheng Jie shook his head regretfully. “Overtime. Give me the keys—still haven’t made copies.”

Lin Ze handed them over. “Get them done today.”

“Mhm.” Zheng Jie went back to work, and Lin Ze picked out clothes for Xie Chenfeng.

He chose a striped, open-collar athletic T-shirt and shorts. When Xie Chenfeng put them on, his tanned skin and athletic build turned heads—including a few from other gay guys shopping nearby.

Lin Ze went to pay. Zheng Jie gave him a look: You’re paying for him?

“I’ll get it,” Xie Chenfeng offered.

Lin Ze waved him off, then signaled Zheng Jie, who understood. “I’ll swipe it for you. Where’s your credit card? I’ll pay it off after work.”

“Okay.” Lin Ze handed over his card. “Let’s go.”

Xie Chenfeng knew Zheng Jie probably got an employee discount and didn’t argue.

“Swiping the noodle card,” Lin Ze deadpanned.

Xie Chenfeng laughed. “The noodle card buys clothes now.”

“He’s had it rough too.” Over dinner, Lin Ze briefly mentioned Zheng Jie’s blind date situation, omitting the debt.

“If you want to get married, it’s safer to start dating in school,” Xie Chenfeng replied. “Once you’re out in the world, things like housing, money, and jobs get factored in. Finding a wife to build a life with from scratch is hard.”

“Do you plan to marry someday? A sham marriage? Deceiving a woman?” Lin Ze asked.

Xie Chenfeng shook his head blankly. Lin Ze figured there was some family story there but didn’t press.

“I used to love soccer,” Xie Chenfeng began. “My dad died of cancer. My stepdad hated me playing—thought I’d cause trouble. Ignored me most of the time. Only my mom visited occasionally. Then she divorced him, remarried, and stopped coming.”

Lin Ze: “You still got into college. That’s impressive.”

Xie Chenfeng stared at the jewelry in a display window—all priced in the six figures. He turned to Lin Ze. “In high school, I made it to the city youth soccer team. The coach was nice, but I couldn’t stand that old gay guy.”

Lin Ze: “I got abused as a kid. My parents fought every day—throwing bowls, smashing things. One New Year’s Eve, my dad came home, and they had a huge fight. My mom screamed that if he left, she’d kill me. She grabbed my hair and bashed my head against the wall over a dozen times…”

Xie Chenfeng: “…”

Lin Ze shrugged.

Xie Chenfeng: “Did your dad come back?”

Lin Ze: “Don’t know. I passed out and didn’t wake up until the third day of the new year. See this scar? My dad hit me with a beer bottle when I was little.”

“Only child?” Xie Chenfeng asked.

Lin Ze: “I have a brother four years younger. Raised by our grandma—missed most of the fights.”

Xie Chenfeng nodded. Standing in front of the IMAX theater, he asked, “Can we swipe the noodle card here? If not, I’ll treat you. What do you want to see?”

Lin Ze knew Xie Chenfeng was offering to return the favor after he’d bought him clothes. But the tickets were expensive, and none of the movies appealed to him. “Let’s do it another day.”

Xie Chenfeng: “Perfect. Overpriced and nothing good. Staring at that curved screen gives me a stiff neck.”

They left Starlight 68. The night air was thick with the oppressive humidity before a storm, making every breath feel heavy. Lin Ze asked, “Should I see you home?”

Xie Chenfeng: “I’ll walk you. It’s always you sending me off.”

Lin Ze was thinking about their relationship. If they went to a hotel now, it wouldn’t be a one-night stand—both of them seemed serious about dating. Xie Chenfeng didn’t strike him as the type for casual flings. But Xie Chenfeng didn’t bring it up either. They took the bus back to Jiangbei, and as soon as they stepped out of the station, a torrential downpour began.

Splashing through puddles, they ducked under awnings and crossed Bei Cheng Tian Street. The air conditioning inside the mall chilled their soaked clothes, evoking a youthful nostalgia.

The days of stifling heat were swept away. By the time they reached Lin Ze’s place, both were drenched—Xie Chenfeng in his new clothes. They took shelter outside the Lifan Club, and Lin Ze remembered something.

“I don’t have my keys. Zheng Jie has them,” Lin Ze said.

“Let’s get a room,” Xie Chenfeng said with a grin.

Lin Ze: “Nah, let’s wait for Zheng Jie. You can shower at my place?”

“Just kidding,” Xie Chenfeng clarified, leaving it at that. Lin Ze had planned to invite Xie Chenfeng to stay over—sleep on the couch or share the bed, but he wasn’t ready to take things further yet. Just lying together and talking would be enough.

But Xie Chenfeng didn’t ask. They stood under the eaves, watching the rain. It lightened slightly. Behind the club, the tennis courts blazed with xenon lights, illuminating the night. The rain fell in shimmering curtains, the grass pale under the glow—a surreal, dreamlike scene.

Four beams of light from the courts cast half the adjacent soccer field in brightness, the other half in shadow.

“Come on,” Xie Chenfeng said suddenly.

He took Lin Ze’s hand, and they ran along the stadium’s outer fence, splashing through puddles. Lin Ze had left his iPad and recorder at Zheng Jie’s office, carrying only his phone and wallet. Both were soaked.

“Here.” Xie Chenfeng found a gap in the fence where the bars could be bent slightly. He climbed over, then pulled Lin Ze up.

“Are we gonna get fined or locked up?” Lin Ze asked, jumping down into the soccer field.

Xie Chenfeng: “Lockup saves us hotel money.”

Lin Ze: “‘Two Men Detained at Night’—we’ll make headlines tomorrow!”

Xie Chenfeng laughed. “I used to come here all the time. Fines can be paid with the noodle card. Relax.”

He told Lin Ze to wait and retrieved a worn, peeling soccer ball from behind the equipment shed.

Lin Ze trapped the ball under his foot. “What position did you play?”

“Goalkeeper!” Xie Chenfeng pulled on gloves and shouted, “You shoot, I’ll block!”

Lin Ze had played before. He took a shot, and Xie Chenfeng dove sideways, rolling in the mud to make the save.

Lin Ze couldn’t help cheering. “Nice save!”

Xie Chenfeng grinned, gloved finger to his lips.

Lin Ze shot again—another save.

His kicks either went wide, hit the post, or were caught by Xie Chenfeng. They played like kids, back and forth, for a long time.

Lin Ze: “Would it kill you to let me score?!”

He watched Xie Chenfeng’s roguish smile, then gently tapped the ball.

Xie Chenfeng watched as the ball rolled slowly toward him, stopping at his feet.

He nudged it into the net with his heel and smiled at Lin Ze.

At the time, Lin Ze just thought Xie Chenfeng was being childish. It wasn’t until much later, when he read a magazine, that he understood what Xie Chenfeng had meant.

The magazine said: A goal is like a man’s heart. And the ball that finds the net is the love he receives.

Zheng Jie called, asking where Lin Ze was. Lin Ze answered, glancing at Xie Chenfeng. “Let’s go?”

Xie Chenfeng put the ball away, stashed the gloves, and climbed back over the fence. The rain had stopped.

Lin Ze offered, “Wanna stay over? The buses have stopped running.”

Xie Chenfeng thought for a moment. “Another time. I’ll take a cab tonight.”

Lin Ze nodded. They stood quietly for a while, neither speaking.

At midnight, all the stadium lights went out at once, plunging the world into darkness. In the blackness, Lin Ze couldn’t see Xie Chenfeng’s face, only heard him say:

“A’Ze, I think we’d be good together. So… let’s try… dating.”

Lin Ze’s heart raced.

Xie Chenfeng added, “If you… don’t want to bottom, I can. It’s fine. Really.”

“Okay,” Lin Ze said softly, then worried Xie Chenfeng might not hear. He repeated, louder, “Yeah.”

“I’ll head back. Talk later.” Xie Chenfeng sounded nervous. He ran off down the road outside the stadium.

Lin Ze called after him, “Wait!”

But Xie Chenfeng had already hailed a cab and sped off.

What was that? Like high schoolers confessing.

Zheng Jie called again, impatient. Lin Ze pushed back his soaked bangs, torn between laughter and exasperation, his heart pounding with a strange excitement—one he hadn’t felt in a long time.