Chapter 68 – A Lot, A Lot of Love

As night fell, all was silent except for the occasional passenger planes passing overhead. Bian Ji’s apartment wasn’t far from the airport, so the roar of engines could be heard clearly.

“Do you need earplugs?” Yan Ankuo didn’t know Bian Ji’s usual sleeping habits; after all, they hadn’t shared a bed while awake before. “Do you have any soothing incense at home? I could light it for you?”

Bian Ji shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, just go to sleep.”

Yan Ankuo obediently lay down beside him.

With the lesson from the riverside still fresh in his mind, he made sure to sleep a bit further away from Bian Ji, but Bian Ji pulled him closer.

“Is this uncomfortable?” Yan Ankuo asked. Bian Ji shook his head.

Yan Ankuo was more nervous than Bian Ji, relieved, he said, “Good.”

“Are you thinking I’m being overly sensitive, weird?” Bian Ji hugged Yan Ankuo’s waist, clear-headed enough to hide any signs of unease.

Yan Ankuo shook his head earnestly. “Never.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Yan Ankuo said. “I’m just afraid I haven’t been involved enough in your life, that I might overlook something important and upset you.”

Bian Ji smiled helplessly. “I’ve already told you, I’m not upset with you.”

Yan Ankuo lowered his head, silent, either disbelieving or feeling wronged.

Bian Ji couldn’t bear to see him like that, amidst the frequent rumble of planes, he secretly made a decision – those damp, hidden heartaches were due for some sunlight.

Bian Ji raised his head slightly, using his arm as a pillow, adopting a more intimate posture for their conversation. “Actually… since I was fifteen, I’ve never lived in a normal room.”

Yan Ankuo guessed that what followed would be a long story, so he turned on the bedside lamp, wanting to sit up and listen.

But Bian Ji turned off the light again, lying flat in the dark, hiding something unknown.

“So where did you sleep before?” Yan Ankuo respected his wishes, asking in the darkness.

“The living room…” Bian Ji’s tone was matter-of-fact, as if recounting someone else’s tale. “To be precise, the balcony.”

“When I was in junior high, my parents divorced, and I lived with my dad. The house was so small there wasn’t even space for a kitchen. After he remarried, to make room for cooking, he converted the living room into a kitchen and dining area, leaving me to sleep on the balcony.

“Have you seen those wall beds? A mattress that stands against the wall during the day, with a table below it, and at night, the table is put away, and the mattress is laid flat as a bed – that’s usually where I slept – exposed to wind and weather, cold in winter, hot in summer, and full of mosquitoes.”

Yan Ankuo opened his mouth, intending to say “I’ve seen wall beds,” but ended up saying nothing, merely stroking his hair.

“In truth, it was alright, I didn’t think anything of sleeping there, since compared to the balcony… I feared the bathroom more.” Bian Ji gripped his pajamas tightly under the covers, but due to the darkness, it went unnoticed by Yan Ankuo. “Because Aunt Zhou liked to sleep early, she had the habit of going to the toilet before bed. Since I got home late, my bathing time was strictly limited to fifteen minutes.

“One time when I took too long, still half-naked, the door suddenly swung open…”

“She was terrified, screaming as she ran to find my dad, demanding to know why I was still inside. My dad scolded me, asking why I didn’t lock the door.”

Bian Ji laughed in frustration. “That lock had been broken for a month! I asked him to fix it, but he said there was no money for a replacement.”

“Anyway, things like that happened quite often. That aunt always felt she was being treated like a stepmother, believing I was targeting her, so I couldn’t upset her in the slightest, otherwise, she’d complain to my dad. Even if she made peanut cookies, I had to eat them all and praise her cooking with a smile.”

Yan Ankuo frowned. “But aren’t you allergic to peanuts?”

“That’s right, I visited the school doctor twice due to allergies,” Bian Ji was utterly frustrated. “But my dad said it was fine, a saline drip would fix everything.”

“I don’t want to think about it anymore, not everyone deserves to raise children.” Yan Ankuo was so angry his vision blurred white, hugging Bian Ji tightly and rubbing his hair in his arms. “You’re so amazing, able to pull through alone.”

“I decided to leave home because…” Bian Ji took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “There was a period when I kept hearing them in bed.”

Yan Ankuo’s arms around him loosened abruptly, even comforting words seemed too light, so he simply kissed his forehead repeatedly.

He had always found it odd, because Bian Ji’s personality was usually straightforward and passionate, yet in bed, he was so quiet, as if deliberately holding back. Now, he understood the reason.

Thinking about this, Yan Ankuo held Bian Ji even tighter.

“It was piercing to the ears. When my mom was around, he never gave her a good look, maybe he was doing the same thing with others then… he… in front of me… I couldn’t take it.” Bian Ji choked up visibly. “So I confronted him, telling them to be quieter. Do you know what he said?”

Yan Ankuo knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant, so he cupped Bian Ji’s ear, trying to stop him from continuing.

But once Bian Ji decided on something, it was hard to change his mind. Having decided to rip open old wounds today, he wouldn’t cover them halfway, letting them fester.

“He said, ‘You like men now, why are you being so shy?'”

“I couldn’t believe those words came out of a father’s mouth.”

“Anyway, that day we had a huge argument, and ended up breaking many things. Not long after, he sent me to live with my aunt, to attend boarding school.”

Bian Ji spoke slowly and steadily, his tale flowing naturally. He showed no obvious emotion except for the occasional increase in tremor, often making people assume he was a humorously engaging storyteller.

Yan Ankuo’s heart was already aching, kissing his hair continuously. “It’s alright… it’s alright…”

“At first, I was pretty happy, since at boarding school, I only needed to return home on weekends, spending most of my time on campus.” Bian Ji shook his head helplessly. “And my aunt was a wonderful person, very indulgent towards children. So, she was willing to share the guest bedroom with me, allowing me to share a room with my cousin, which I was grateful for.”

Bian Ji talked from Guangdong to Shanghai, finally getting a dry throat, he drank a little water, but didn’t lie back down, leaning against the headboard to continue. “It’s just that the cousin was too young, feeling I was taking over his home and his parents’ attention, so he harbored considerable hostility towards me.

“Anything that was mine, he would snatch away. Sketchbooks, homework notebooks, stamp albums… all torn up by him.” What Bian Ji didn’t mention was that the sketchbook was a signed copy he queued for three hours to buy in his youth, the homework was an essential assignment he stayed up until eleven to complete, and the stamp album was a gift from his mother before she left.

The aunt and uncle knew these details, but they were family. As an outsider, Bian Ji’s grievances were swept under the rug, caught between “the child’s high school entrance exam is important” and “we’ve been kind to you.”

“Your cousin wanted to drive you away,” Yan Ankuo analyzed.

“Probably, anyway, he succeeded.” Bian Ji closed his eyes heavily. “I was scared he’d find something else, so I locked up anything important, but he still took my diary.”

Perhaps the child felt no moral burden opening a lock in his own home, perhaps he had long resented his cousin who was living under their roof, perhaps he lost his mind upon reading the diary’s contents, regardless, he did something even he despised.

“The next day, the entire family group chat was filled with photos of the diary, taken by my cousin. The content was mostly… about how I liked men.”

Yan Ankuo’s fist clenched suddenly. “Bian Ji.”

Bian Ji paused. “I beat that little bastard pretty badly, my aunt was heartbroken when she saw him, calling my dad to complain. My dad flew into a rage when he learned, saying I disgraced the Bian family, sending me to a fully enclosed boarding school, where I remained until just before graduation, when I had to come home for the college entrance exam.”

“Before the college entrance exam, I lived with my dad. By then, he had moved into a new house and had a new child. So, I had to share a room with a new cousin again.”

Bian Ji rubbed his wrist, as if sensing the story was nearing its end, he sighed in relief. “This time, I learned from past experiences, to ensure a smooth college entrance exam, I didn’t leave any important items, not even a pen, in his bedroom. I thought that would be foolproof, but I never expected…”

Bian Ji shuddered softly, unsure whether he was laughing or crying. “He suddenly complained that his money was missing, claiming I took it. I was stunned, I emptied my backpack and stripped down to prove my innocence.”

“Yan Ankuo.” Bian Ji collapsed onto the headrest, exhausted. “No one ever stood by my side.”

In decades of wandering, if only one person had stood by his side, perhaps the current Bian Ji wouldn’t have become so independent and heart-wrenching.

Yan Ankuo wrapped his arms around him again, saying word by word, “I’ll be on your side, always.”

“Therefore, Yan Ankuo, I really don’t find you troublesome, I just… don’t dare to move forward anymore.” Bian Ji’s shaking grew more intense, his whole body curling up. “Believe me, I’m trying, truly…”

“I’m sorry for making you recall all this,” Yan Ankuo apologized for reasons Bian Ji didn’t understand, stroking his back gently. “But do you remember what I said?”

Bian Ji lifted his head, his tearful eyes making Yan Ankuo’s heart hurt.

“In the future, you’ll have a lot, a lot of candy.” Yan Ankuo repeated the words he said in the movie theater elevator, his voice laced with tenderness and love. “And a lot, a lot of love.”