Chapter 36 – Even If It Means My Death Right Now

The reason Li Tang dared to say such things was because he was certain they wouldn’t be caught.

Recently, Li Yuanshan wasn’t at their home in Xucheng, while Zhang Zhaoyue continued her routine of rarely leaving her room. Every day, when Li Tang returned from his evening study sessions, she would already be asleep. In the morning, Li Tang left early, seldom encountering her.

It was nearly eleven o’clock now, and if they moved quietly, they wouldn’t disturb Zhang Zhaoyue. They could wake up earlier tomorrow and leave for school before she got up, ensuring that everything happened without her knowledge.

With this plan in mind, Li Tang confidently led Jiang Lou into the house.

The housekeeper came out to greet them, and Li Tang introduced, “This is my classmate.”

Then, he leaned forward to confirm, “My mom’s asleep, right?”

The housekeeper took a pair of disposable slippers from the shoe cabinet and said, “Madam has already gone to bed.”

Feeling even bolder, Li Tang didn’t rush back to his bedroom. Instead, he first showed Jiang Lou around the ground floor living and dining area, asking him if he was hungry and if he wanted something to eat.

Jiang Lou surveyed the surroundings, his gaze pausing momentarily on the piano beside the living room’s floor-to-ceiling windows, then he calmly replied, “No need, I’m not hungry.”

Li Tang grabbed some snacks and drinks from the fridge, holding them in his arms. Passing by the television, he asked Jiang Lou, “Do you want to play games? I have two game controllers.”

He acted like a child who had brought a friend home, eager to share all his good stuff.

Jiang Lou smiled. “Didn’t you just say you were sleepy?”

“I’m not sleepy anymore,” Li Tang said energetically. “Let’s go upstairs first, and if we want to play later, we can come back down.”

As they climbed the stairs, they heard a noise at the turn, but Li Tang didn’t think much of it.

Not until they reached the last step and stood in the second-floor hallway did they see the bedroom door at the end wide open. Zhang Zhaoyue stood there, looking their way.

“You’re back…” she said, her voice fading.

Li Tang didn’t notice anything amiss. The unexpected feeling of being caught made his heart leap, leaving no room for other thoughts.

“Yes, we’re back,” Li Tang stuttered, introducing Jiang Lou hastily. “This…this is my classmate. He forgot his house keys, so I invited him to stay with us for the night.”

Silence followed his words, stretching on for an uncomfortably long time.

Zhang Zhaoyue’s gaze passed over Li Tang to the person behind him, her pupils widening slightly, seemingly astonished.

Li Tang remembered how last semester, during the parent-teacher conference, Zhang Zhaoyue had stared at Jiang Lou’s photo on the honor roll. He added, realizing something, “He’s the fifth-ranked student from the honor roll last time…now he’s third in the grade.”

Outstanding people attracted attention wherever they went, especially someone like Jiang Lou, whose inner and outer qualities shone brightly.

Li Tang didn’t intend to boast about Jiang Lou’s grades; he merely thought that parents often wished for their children to associate with high-achieving classmates, believing that mentioning this would make it easier to “get away with” the situation.

At that moment, Jiang Lou spoke up, “Hello, Auntie.”

His tone was polite yet distant, causing Zhang Zhaoyue’s eyes to flicker, her mouth opening and closing as if struggling to speak.

The atmosphere felt strange. Li Tang looked from one to the other, about to ask what was happening, when Zhang Zhaoyue finally spoke. “Hello…Jiang Lou, right? In a bit, I’ll…I’ll have the housekeeper bring you another quilt.”

Once inside the bedroom and the door closed, Li Tang let out a sigh of relief but quickly regained his senses. “Strange, how did my mom know your name is Jiang Lou?”

Jiang Lou glanced at him, and Li Tang was taken aback for no apparent reason.

He noticed that Jiang Lou’s eyes were unusually cold, almost radiating a heavy aura of malice.

“…What’s wrong?” Li Tang asked.

Jiang Lou stared at him for a moment before suddenly smiling. “Nothing. Didn’t you say you wanted to take a shower when you got home?”

“Oh, right, shower.”

Li Tang opened the wardrobe door, rummaging through it while lamenting inwardly. Was he under the influence of something today, finding everyone acting strangely?

The twenty-minute shower was enough for Li Tang to forget those inappropriate hunches.

Exiting the bathroom attached to the bedroom, Li Tang had an epiphany. “I get it. It must be because you’re too handsome. My mom remembered your name when she saw the honor roll.”

Jiang Lou sat at Li Tang’s desk, casually flipping through a book. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” Li Tang tilted his head. “Have I never complimented you on your looks?”

Fresh out of the shower, Li Tang emitted a rich fragrance, drenched with moisture.

Even his toiletries had a rose scent.

In the confined room, with dim lighting, clean bedding, and the fragrance wafting into his nostrils…all the elements seemed to hint at something.

Jiang Lou looked at the youth who had just stepped out of the bath. “To my knowledge, you haven’t.”

Unable to resist, Li Tang burst out laughing. “You really want me to compliment you?”

Setting aside the book in his hands, Jiang Lou extended his hand toward Li Tang, beckoning him closer.

Li Tang swallowed hard.

The odd feeling that had been suppressed returned, and Li Tang even entertained an impractical and absurd notion. It was as if once he stepped forward and grasped that hand, he would plummet into an abyss without bottom.

But as long as Jiang Lou was there, he feared nothing.

Knock, knock, knock—The sound of knocking on the door interrupted Li Tang, who was sitting in Jiang Lou’s arms, whispering secrets he wouldn’t normally dare to utter.

Bouncing away from Jiang Lou almost as if he’d been electrocuted, Li Tang straightened his pajamas and said, “Come in,” his face still burning hot.

It was the housekeeper delivering a freshly made quilt. Unexpectedly, Zhang Zhaoyue had also come along, standing at the bedroom door and hesitantly looking inside.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, her gaze landing on Jiang Lou before quickly darting away, then cautiously returning—her demeanor suggested less fascination with his appearance and more like that of a reunion after a long separation, or…

Before Li Tang could ponder further, Zhang Zhaoyue forced a smile onto her pale face. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”

Li Tang said there was nothing they needed, while Jiang Lou remained courteous, simply saying, “Thank you, Auntie.”

Watching her slim figure as she turned to leave, Li Tang felt a sense of bewilderment.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that his mother seemed very sad.

However, this distraction didn’t last long either. Just as the bedroom door closed, Li Tang was seized by the wrist and pulled back with force.

Immediately following, Jiang Lou’s kiss descended fiercely, instantly occupying all of Li Tang’s thoughts.

The sound of his mother’s footsteps seemed to echo in his ears. Instinctively, Li Tang tried to push away, wanting him to wait, not to be so hasty, but Jiang Lou wouldn’t allow him to escape. His arm wrapped around Li Tang’s waist, turning him around and pushing him against the wall. The pain from his shoulder blades hitting the wall made Li Tang frown.

His resisting hands were also restrained, held above his head, while hot breaths circulated between their lips and teeth, moving to the hollow of his neck, then his chest…

Deprived of oxygen, Li Tang’s consciousness grew muddled, and he seemed to hear a voice from afar.

“Your mom hasn’t gone far yet…can we do this?”

Startled awake, Li Tang abruptly opened his eyes, realizing they were currently beside the door, separated from the outside corridor by only a thin barrier.

Coming to his senses, Li Tang gasped. “Wait, let’s first—”

The words “go inside” were cut off before they could be uttered, as Jiang Lou pressed down again, his kiss more forceful than before, leaving no room for resistance.

A sense of panic surged like a free-falling elevator, reaching its peak in an instant. Li Tang struggled repeatedly, barely managing to squeeze out a few words through clenched teeth. “Don’t…Jiang Lou…not yet…”

Jiang Lou actually stopped, but his hand remained on Li Tang’s chin, his gaze sharp as ice blades, ready to slice through the prey’s vulnerable neck, letting blood spatter.

He resembled a messenger from hell, issuing a final ultimatum.

“What should I be called?” Jiang Lou whispered. “Think carefully about how to address me.”

When a person is pushed to the brink of their limits, their survival instincts are most easily triggered. At that moment, Li Tang felt as if he was on the edge of life and death, emitting a broken sound from his throat. “Brother…brother…”

Jiang Lou’s expression relaxed instantly, satisfied as he released his grip, exhaling heavily in Li Tang’s ear. “…Good boy.”

Yet in his eyes, Li Tang saw that dense, suffocating anguish.

It caused Li Tang’s heart to clench painfully.

He raised his face, allowing Jiang Lou to rest more easily on his shoulder.

Moist breath dampened the fabric, while the ceiling reflected a vast, empty white.

In that moment, a ludicrous thought sprang into Li Tang’s mind—if it could alleviate his suffering, even if it meant my death right now.

The window was opened, letting in a cool night breeze that replenished the overly thin oxygen in the room.

When Jiang Lou emerged from his shower, Li Tang was using his phone’s front camera to inspect his chin, which had turned red from the pinch, praying that the mark would fade overnight.

Despite the lingering fear from what had happened, Li Tang knew that the house had decent soundproofing. Unless someone pressed their ear tightly against the wall, the sounds they made wouldn’t reach the people outside.

Taking advantage of this rare opportunity, Li Tang wouldn’t let it slip by. Putting down his phone, he picked up “The Count of Monte Cristo” lying on the pillow, pretending he was still angry and deliberately ignoring the person approaching him.

However, he couldn’t resist looking over after just a couple of lines, noticing Jiang Lou sitting on the bed, holding the voice recorder he had given him, his thumb resting on the recording button, lost in thought.

Li Tang’s heart, which hadn’t been firmly guarded, crumbled at that moment. Softening, he took the initiative to approach. “Since it’s the weekend and we don’t have classes, why did you bring it with you?”

Jiang Lou didn’t answer, instead counter-asking, “Why make dried flowers when flowers wither?”

Upon learning that Jiang Lou had already figured out the dried flowers in the vase by the bedside were from Valentine’s Day, Li Tang said somewhat shyly, “I couldn’t bear it, since it was the first time you gave me flowers…”

The process of making dried flowers was incredibly demanding on patience. Li Tang chose the fine sand drying method, and to ensure the petals wouldn’t fall off, he nearly held his breath while spreading the sand, moving as gently as possible. Worried that the sand would lose its effectiveness after absorbing too much moisture, regardless of how late he arrived home every day, he would change the sand daily, spending a lot of time repeating the same steps.

Such things were common for people in love, so Li Tang didn’t plan to tell Jiang Lou about it. He was only curious. “Do you find it weird that someone like me likes red?”

Li Tang was well aware of the image he projected to others—slow, melancholic, unremarkable, timid, and fearful of trouble.

A person as faint as him, seemingly capable of being erased at will, actually liked passionate and bold red. Wasn’t that strange?

“Not strange,” Jiang Lou said. “I only think it’s as expected.”

Blood was also red, turning into a dark red with a tinge of black upon cooling and solidifying.

Red and black were akin to the sunlit and shadowed sides of the moon, one bright and one dark, one warm and one cold, coexisting and blending together.

The so-called brotherly affection and respectful sibling harmony were no different.

Moreover, Li Tang was so suited for red.

Except no one ever saw the bright red at the corner of his eyes when he was moved, unaware of the captivating sight of his trembling lips, flushed and parted, in his moments of intense emotion.

That night, the new bedding was left unused. Li Tang’s body tensed and relaxed beneath the covers, finally collapsing onto the sheets like an overused spring.

They had agreed to help each other, yet only he was left teetering on the brink of collapse, even experiencing life and death…before turning off the lights, Li Tang revealed his drained half-face, poking Jiang Lou’s arm in shame. “Are we just going to sleep? You haven’t even…”

Jiang Lou extinguished the bedside lamp, and in the darkness, his eyes glimmered with a faint light, only to be instantly obscured by drooping eyelids.

“Next time.”

As if certain that “next time” would inevitably come, Jiang Lou said, “By then, you should have thought it through.”

The next morning, when Li Tang woke up, Jiang Lou was no longer by his side.

Rushing through his morning routine and descending downstairs, the housekeeper, who was cooking in the kitchen, said, “He’s been gone for a while. He didn’t have breakfast. I offered him a sandwich and milk to take with him, but he refused.”

Glancing at the grayish-white sky outside, Li Tang couldn’t understand why Jiang Lou had left in such a hurry.

Intending to grab a quick bite before heading to school, Li Tang had just sat down at the dining table when Zhang Zhaoyue, wearing a coat, descended from upstairs. Looking at Li Tang, her expression was somewhat dazed. “Where’s Jiang…your classmate?”

Li Tang repeated what the housekeeper had said, and Zhang Zhaoyue nodded, still seeming distracted as she sat down to eat.

Li Tang had grown accustomed to maintaining silence while eating with his mother, so when Zhang Zhaoyue spoke again, Li Tang was inevitably surprised.

“Are you in the same class as him?”

The “him” she referred to was naturally Jiang Lou. Pausing for a moment, Li Tang answered, “We were in the same class last semester, but this semester I’m in Class 5, and he’s still in the advanced class.”

Zhang Zhaoyue nodded, as if she had known this all along, simply seeking confirmation from Li Tang.

She scooped twice from the porridge in her bowl. “Then do you know about…his family situation?”

There was nothing unusual about this question. As a parent, wanting to understand the background of her child’s friends was perfectly reasonable.

After careful consideration, Li Tang said, “His parents died early, and he lives alone now.”

Zhang Zhaoyue murmured the words “parents died young,” chuckling softly. “Is that what he told you?”

Li Tang interpreted the laughter as disbelief. After all, considering how outstanding Jiang Lou was now, it was difficult for anyone to imagine that he had grown up to this point entirely on his own.

If it were someone else, Li Tang could pretend not to hear, but the laughter was directed at Jiang Lou, and Li Tang couldn’t tolerate it.

“He didn’t tell me that. I found out myself,” Li Tang defended Jiang Lou. “Everyone in school knows he doesn’t have parents. If he did, he wouldn’t have been bullied to the point of dropping out of school…”

“Dropping out of school? He actually dropped out of school…” Zhang Zhaoyue interrupted urgently. “When did it happen, and why did he drop out of school?”

His mother’s abnormal attitude left Li Tang momentarily stunned.

However, he didn’t grow suspicious. He was speaking with righteous indignation, assuming Zhang Zhaoyue was simply eager to verify the facts. He replied, “It seems it was when he was ten years old. He got into a fight with some junior high school students, and his left ear was injured, leaving him unable to hear.”

“…Unable to hear?”

“Mm…he can’t hear anything at all.”

Li Tang didn’t want to use the medical term “unilateral deafness,” finding it too cruel.

Regarding Jiang Lou, he planned to stop here. Li Tang didn’t expect everyone to feel heartache over Jiang Lou’s plight, but at least they shouldn’t misunderstand or speculate about him.

Furthermore, Li Tang had always trusted his mother—the mother who would throw herself over him to protect him when he was beaten, the mother who would hold him all night when he was sick and feverish. She had a soft and compassionate heart.

He just hadn’t anticipated Zhang Zhaoyue’s reaction to be so intense.

Clang—The ear-splitting sound of a porcelain spoon crashing into the bottom of the bowl.

Li Tang looked up to see his mother’s hand shaking so violently that she couldn’t hold the spoon, her face drained of color.

“Unable to hear…”

Zhang Zhaoyue gazed at Li Tang with an expression bordering on pleading, as if hoping he could provide a negative answer.

“His left ear, is it truly completely deaf?”