Chapter 22 – Just Look at Me

That night, when Li Tang returned home, he encountered the auntie who came out to greet him at the door. He hurriedly greeted her back before rushing upstairs without looking up.

After taking a shower, he was even too embarrassed to look in the mirror. With a dry towel on his head, he pounced onto the bed.

He had no sleepiness.

Pulling out his phone to browse the forum, the screen was filled with discussions about sex, almost devoid of any emotional exchange.

Modern people embraced fast food culture, pursuing simple and crude sensory stimulation in everything. This situation was especially prevalent among the gay community, where online acquaintances often turned into one-night stands in hotels, only to part ways the next day—419 fuck buddies were common, while couples who developed long-term relationships due to shared interests and soulful compatibility were few and far between.

Li Tang scrolled through for a while but found it uninteresting. He exited and opened WeChat, knowing that the other party couldn’t see him, but still carefully clicked into his chat window with Jiang Lou.

Their most recent conversation was from that morning, at 8:30, estimating that it should be time to wake up, Li Tang sent an emoji of good morning.

Twenty minutes later, Jiang Lou replied with “Good morning.”

Following that, as usual, Li Tang asked if Jiang Lou was going to the boxing gym today. Jiang Lou said no, and Li Tang sent an emoji of a shy cat, saying: “I’ll be there soon.”

Scrolling back, most of the messages were sent during the last period of self-study class, where they would agree to meet at one of the school’s gates, guerrilla-style, to avoid being caught.

Mixed in were some contents that Li Tang shared with Jiang Lou on his own initiative—the ground covered with leaves in front of his house when he woke up, the nearly full moon on the thirteenth day of the lunar calendar, a stray cat he encountered on the sidelines of the sports field, a math test he scored high on because Jiang Lou taught him, an essay that earned over 40 points for the first time, interesting Weibo posts and videos… No detail was too small, as long as he found it interesting, he sent it all to Jiang Lou.

At the time, he didn’t think much of it, but now, looking back, Li Tang felt he had been overly proactive, almost like a love-struck puppy. After all, Jiang Lou hardly responded, leading Li Tang to have the illusion that he was using the chat window with Jiang Lou as a file transfer assistant.

But he couldn’t help it.

Rolling over in bed, Li Tang raised his arm, letting the sleeve of his pajamas slide down. He took a photo and sent it to Jiang Lou: “You’ve pinched me red.”

Thinking it was too late to get a reply, he was surprised when five minutes later, Jiang Lou asked: “Does it hurt?”

Sitting up abruptly, Li Tang typed with both hands: “You’re not asleep yet?”

Jiang Lou: “Almost.”

Li Tang tentatively asked: “Then… call me?”

Jiang Lou then called him via voice.

The first thing Li Tang asked after answering was, “Is the blanket warm?”

Jiang Lou hummed in affirmation.

His voice was muffled, slightly nasal, indicating he was indeed about to sleep.

Li Tang also lay down, turning on his side to find a comfortable position. He placed the phone on his pillow: “I heard there are cockroaches in Xucheng. With how thoroughly we cleaned today, we probably won’t have any, right?”

“Not necessarily.” Jiang Lou spoke slowly, sounding somewhat languid. “Cockroaches fear the cold and hide during winter, rarely coming out.”

Li Tang shuddered all over: “How do they hibernate?”

“You take afternoon naps too.”

“But… how can I be compared to a cockroach.”

Jiang Lou laughed on the other end of the line.

Li Tang’s ears burned as he bit his lip. The pain spread in thin threads, tingling like a numb sensation.

“Have you heard of this saying? Scumbags love using cute cat emojis.”

“Is there such a thing?”

“A classmate told me… Do you think I’m a scumbag?”

“No.”

“What am I then?”

“Guess.”

“A dog?”

“No.”

“A little fish, a bird?”

“No.”

“… It’s not a cockroach, is it?”

Jiang Lou laughed again: “Didn’t you just say you’re not like a cockroach.”

Li Tang laughed along, his eyes squinting: “Then let me think about it, I’ll ask you during break tomorrow.”

Jiang Lou reminded him: “Starting tomorrow, break exercises turn into running exercises.”

Li Tang forgot about it, and as someone who disliked exercise, he felt like the sky was falling: “… Is there any way to prevent the sun from rising?”

“There is.” Jiang Lou said, “Die tonight.”

Li Tang yawned, starting to feel sleepy: “What kind of… bedtime horror story is this?”

“Mm, you won’t die.” Perhaps drowsiness was contagious, Jiang Lou’s voice lowered. “You can’t die now.”

They chatted aimlessly for a while longer until Li Tang couldn’t hold out any longer and said goodnight.

Before hanging up, Li Tang suddenly remembered something: “Don’t come to the music classroom to find me during PE class anymore. I’m afraid Su Qinhan will find out.”

“That scared?”

“Scared, she chased after you, once liked you so much, what if… what if…”

What if she gets mad at me, what if she cries again, what should I do?

Recent interactions had made them good friends, and Li Tang didn’t want to upset her.

Whether Jiang Lou agreed or not later on, Li Tang couldn’t remember.

He was too tired after a busy day. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep in a daze.

Running exercises had become an old tradition since the start of their second year at Xucheng No.1 High School.

Initially meant to prepare for the physical fitness tests in the first semester of the third year, they later discovered that running exercises were more effective than calisthenics in boosting morale. Running while shouting slogans like “Strive hard, never give up” could instill a sense of seriousness about the college entrance exam in students, gradually turning this activity into a continued tradition.

Some rejoiced, others mourned.

A few girls with poor health had already applied to the homeroom teacher, asking to be exempted from running exercises in the future. Students with better physical fitness preferred to jog on the playground, giving them an opportunity to chat and play around. Those like Li Tang, who are healthy but extremely dislike exercise, suffered the most—he found walking two rounds on the track tiring, let alone running; forget chatting, even breathing was exhausting.

Zhou Dongze taught Li Tang the diaphragmatic breathing method, instructing him to press the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tighten the muscles in his lower abdomen when inhaling. Li Tang memorized it well before running, but once he started, he forgot everything, not caring where he tightened, opening his mouth wide for air, almost stretching his tongue out to make room for more oxygen.

Running for two days straight, Li Tang, who lacked regular exercise, felt sore all over, especially when climbing stairs, moving stiffly as if he had turned into a robot.

By Wednesday, Li Tang couldn’t bear it anymore and went to the homeroom teacher to ask for leave. The teacher had just approved leave requests for several girls who were on their periods, frowning at Li Tang’s half-dead appearance: “Isn’t your knee pain because of lack of exercise? It’ll stop hurting if you run. For a big guy like you to not be able to run a kilometer, wouldn’t you be laughed at if word got out?”

Li Tang thought to himself that he wasn’t that big, still less than 1.8 meters tall.

Sent back to the playground, Li Tang ran listlessly, falling behind within a lap. Li Zichu’s attempts to drag him along were futile, so he waved goodbye: “See you next lap.”

Before meeting again, he tripped and fell.

A full-body fall, both knees and hands hitting the ground, his head bumping against the rubber track.

Zhou Dongze was the first to notice. He had already run half a lap and came out of the group, crossing the middle lawn to reach Li Tang. Supporting him, he asked: “Where did you fall?”

Dizzy and speechless, Li Tang shook his head, indicating it wasn’t serious.

Other classmates gathered around as well. Due to his generosity, often treating the whole class to milk tea, Li Tang had decent popularity in class. A multitude of expressions of concern poured in, the boys almost wanting to carry him to the infirmary on a makeshift stretcher.

Aware of his embarrassment, Li Tang struggled to stand up on his own, returning to the classroom under Zhou Dongze and Li Zichu’s support.

Only then did he realize that he hadn’t seen Jiang Lou. Turning his head to look at the last row of the fourth group, Jiang Lou was already seated, propping his cheek with one hand facing the window, seemingly uninvolved.

Classes ended in the morning, and instead of going to the canteen for lunch, Li Tang left the school gate to go to a nearby home-style restaurant.

However, Jiang Lou wasn’t here.

Instead, he encountered those gangsters at the alley entrance, scaring Li Tang into running away. He only realized the pain with a delay after running into the school gate, leaning against the wall for a long time before recovering.

He initially wanted to visit the rooftop of the comprehensive building, but his body wouldn’t allow it.

Not until the bell for the first class in the afternoon rang did Jiang Lou leisurely enter the classroom, walking straight to his seat.

He didn’t even glance in Li Tang’s direction.

When class ended, another group of boys gathered around Jiang Lou, leaving no room for Li Tang.

Li Tang felt terrible, messaging Jiang Lou during class, asking him where he went for lunch.

Throughout the entire class, he didn’t receive a reply.

The third class was PE, and Li Tang brought sheet music to the music classroom in the comprehensive building.

Su Qinhan noticed something was off as soon as she entered the room, exclaiming: “What happened to your head?”

“I tripped,” Li Tang said.

“Oh, you’re the one who tripped on the playground this morning.”

“… Yes.”

Li Tang felt even worse inside. Even the neighboring class knew about it, yet Jiang Lou, as his boyfriend, showed no reaction.

“Your hand is injured too?” Su Qinhan saw the Band-Aid on his palm and frowned. “Why don’t we call it a day? You should rest in the classroom first.”

Li Tang was dedicated to his craft, adhering to a “professional code of conduct”: “We agreed to practice together.”

“I can use the accompaniment, anyway, you’ve already played very well. There’s still more than a week until the New Year’s Eve party.” Su Qinhan smiled. “Your top priority now is to recover well, don’t let us down then.”

Li Tang pondered it and finally agreed: “Thank you then.”

Su Qinhan clasped her hands together: “Please, don’t say thank you to me. Now whenever I hear ‘thank you,’ I think of the scene where Jiang Lou rejected me that day.”

“…” Li Tang had no choice but to agree. “Okay.”

With a complex mood, he limped out of the music classroom.

Li Tang was contemplating how to confess to Su Qinhan about his relationship with Jiang Lou, but then he felt that perhaps there was no need to worry about it anymore. Jiang Lou ignored him, could this romance last until tomorrow?

The dual blows to his body and mind left Li Tang almost gloomy as he walked downstairs, bending to rub his knee. He didn’t pay attention to the footsteps until he looked up and saw familiar sneakers, and the long, straight legs visible even under school pants.

Jiang Lou stood in front of Li Tang with his hands in his pockets, nodding slightly. His deep gaze looked down at him: “Can’t stand up?”

Li Tang froze, unsure of his thoughts, and nodded.

Jiang Lou extended his hand, stepped forward two more steps, and half-squatting down, slid one hand under Li Tang’s knee and the other around his back, lifting him up in one swift motion.

In the instant his body was lifted, Li Tang’s heart almost stopped. He kicked his legs unconsciously and heard Jiang Lou’s warning: “Don’t move around.”

Fortunately, it was class time, and no one else was around on the way.

Reaching the base of the teaching building, near the men’s restroom, Jiang Lou put him down.

Li Tang immediately grabbed the wall, vigilantly looking around, his eyes wide as he said: “Are you crazy…”

It was Li Tang’s first time being carried in a princess carry, especially in school, it was a mortifying experience.

As if he didn’t hear, Jiang Lou caught Li Tang’s wrist and examined the abrasion on his palm.

“Did you apply iodine?”

“…Yes.”

“Did Zhou Dongze apply it for you?”

“No, I did it myself.”

Jiang Lou released his hand, squatting down to inspect Li Tang’s leg. His fingers hooked upward along the pant cuff, rolling up the pants until the knee was exposed.

This area wasn’t skinned, but a large red patch appeared. Li Tang had pale skin and was thin, with almost no flesh between skin and bone, making it look somewhat eerie.

Placing his palm over it, rubbing gently a few times, Jiang Lou asked: “Can you still move it?”

Li Tang pursed his lips: “…Yes.”

“How about the other leg?”

“Also yes.”

Jiang Lou then let the rolled-up pant leg fall back down, standing up to examine Li Tang’s forehead, where a prominent swelling had formed.

Taking out a bag of ice from the pocket of his school uniform jacket, he slowly pressed it against the swelling. Li Tang shivered from the cold, and Jiang Lou held his shoulders to prevent him from dodging: “It’ll be fine soon.”

Jiang Lou was taller than Li Tang. When he tilted his chin up, Li Tang could see his Adam’s apple, rising and falling with his breath.

For some reason, Li Tang averted his gaze, clearing his throat. He asked, “Where did you get the ice pack?”

“From the school convenience store.”

“They sell this at the convenience store?”

“If you want it, they have it.”

“…”

Li Tang thought that for someone like Jiang Lou, no matter how expensive an item was, as long as he wanted it, it was easily attainable.

He had that kind of magic, making so many people willing to do anything for him.

When did his anger dissipate, Li Tang couldn’t figure it out himself.

But he still wanted to know: “Why did you ignore me?”

Jiang Lou said indifferently, “You said you didn’t want others to know about our relationship.”

Li Tang felt frustrated, as if he dug a hole and jumped into it himself: “… Then why didn’t you reply to my WeChat message.”

“I usually turn my phone off during the day.” Jiang Lou removed the ice pack and glanced at Li Tang. “I didn’t turn it on during evening self-study either.”

In other words—If not for you, I wouldn’t bring my phone to school.

This time, Li Tang was completely no longer angry, and even felt a secret joy.

Willing to change for me, at least it proved that he cared.

Yet at that moment, looking at Li Tang, Jiang Lou thought of the day they hung laundry outside, when Li Tang emerged from under the sheets, exposing his face to the bright sun.

His cheeks slightly flushed, his eyes sparkling.

An incredibly vivid, beautiful face, worth cherishing.

And the reason museum artifacts were precious was their rarity, needing to be properly preserved in glass cabinets with heavy locks, only for admiration, forbidden to covet.

But he was too appealing, Jiang Lou thought, so even allowing outsiders to admire him felt like an offense.

“I have to get back to class,” Li Tang held the ice pack himself. “I promised to help them organize grammar points…”

“Who is ‘them’?”

“The classmates in class.”

“Don’t bother with them.”

“I’m the English class representative,” Li Tang assumed Jiang Lou was again complaining about him meddling too much and getting exhausted. As he spoke, he looked up at the building. “I still have to go to the office to print, the printer should be free now…”

Before he finished speaking, his cheek was suddenly pinched and turned back.

Immediately after, Jiang Lou’s lips pressed against his.

A collision of dryness and softness. Even after desensitization, sparks still flew, igniting, burning hot, causing his heart to tremble.

This time, it didn’t last very long.

Distance was created, ensuring Li Tang’s focus was solely on one person’s figure, Jiang Lou smiled, revealing a satisfied expression.

“Don’t bother with them.” He reiterated, “Just look at me.”