Chapter 53

“Ahem.” The confession came so suddenly that Jiang Zhihuo choked, completely caught off guard and unsure of how to react.

Yan Mu, however, acted as if nothing had happened. Calmly, he asked the waiter to pour a cup of iced tea and then served Jiang Zhihuo two slices of tenderloin.

Jiang Zhihuo ate the slices without any hesitation, chewing them vigorously.

Then he looked up at Yan Mu.

The God of Learning Yan’s ears were still red. Under the overhead light, it was exceptionally noticeable, creating a giant contrast with his otherwise cool and indifferent face, making them seem completely mismatched.

Since everything between them had already been laid bare, and they were out in public, everything was clear as day. Jiang Zhihuo’s mischievous side surfaced, and he poked his chopsticks into the sauce dish. “Yan-ge, stop pretending. Do you know your ears turn red when you say things like that?”

“…” Yan Mu paused for a moment. “I know.”

His ears were burning; he could definitely feel it.

Jiang Zhihuo chuckled, about to say something else—who knew what atmosphere-ruining words might come out of his mouth? Yan Mu quickly stuffed another slice of lamb into his mouth, insisting, “Keep eating.”

Jiang Zhihuo stifled his laughter, made a zipping-the-lips gesture, and his smile lingered on his face for a long time.

While eating hotpot, they’d taken off their coats and put on aprons, so the smell on them wasn’t too strong afterward. Yan Mu had brought deodorizing perfume and sprayed it around them—the scent was crisp and fresh, restoring his untouchable, god-like aura.

At the table, they discussed which library to visit. Each library had a different atmosphere. For example, the children’s library was particularly… noisy.

In the end, they mutually agreed to go to the Provincial Library.

The Provincial Library could be considered a landmark building in Lincheng, the biggest and tallest library in the province, with a massive collection of books. Some books could only be read inside the library, not borrowed or purchased. With its great atmosphere, spaciousness, and medieval-style decor, it attracted plenty of people to study there on weekends.

Jiang Zhihuo and Yan Mu arrived a little after two in the afternoon. The study tables were already occupied. In the center, a spiral staircase stood, and those without a seat sat on the steps with books in hand—each person taking one step, sitting there in an orderly line.

Reading was a quiet activity, and being in the same space with so many people didn’t feel crowded. Jiang Zhihuo pulled Yan Mu to the third floor, found a spot near the bookshelves, and sat down on the floor.

It was obvious this wasn’t his first time here; he remembered exactly where each type of book was and soon came back with a few classic novels.

While still selecting books, Jiang Zhihuo pointed to a foreign novel over ten centimeters thick and whispered to Yan Mu, “How about we grab this one?”

“What for?” Yan Mu asked.

“As a pillow.” Jiang Zhihuo’s voice was so soft that he leaned in close, their arms brushing together. “I’ve seen people napping in the library, sleeping like a baby.”

Yan Mu tapped him on the forehead with a bent knuckle.

“Alright.” Jiang Zhihuo found a spot to sit, opened a classic novel, and admitted, “I’m the one who’ll probably fall asleep.”

Yan Mu sat down next to him.

The space between the bookshelves was wide enough for them to stretch out their legs comfortably. The cold marble floor pressed its chill through their pants.

The sound of pages turning echoed around them.

Yan Mu stared at the book in his hands, a little distracted.

He hadn’t planned on coming to the library because he thought Jiang Zhihuo, or rather Yun Zhou, didn’t like such places.

It had been a long time.

In his memory, almost every two weeks, he’d sit with Yun Zhou in the large study at his house.

Father Yun and Mother Yun were both professors of Chinese linguistics¹[T/N: I don’t remember exactly how I translated their field last time, but I’ll check it later. The correct translation should be this.], so their house was filled with books. Yun Zhou would drag him over to sit under the bookshelves together.

Yun Zhou always picked foreign novels, and Yan Mu had complained once or twice.

He said the translated prose was difficult to read, and the content was deep and complicated, beyond his understanding of the adult world.

However, it was a reading assignment given by Father Yun and Mother Yun, something Yun Zhou had to complete on a regular basis, so he forced himself to read even when he didn’t understand.

Every time, he’d end up falling asleep. When he woke up, he’d rub his eyes, looking confused, and ask Qin Mu, “Qin-ge, where was I?”

Qin Mu would help him find the page, and Yun Zhou would continue reading, gradually scrunching up his face in pain and reluctance. He’d yawn again and again, then… fall asleep all over again.

A weight settled on Yan Mu’s shoulder.

Jiang Zhihuo sat cross-legged, the classic novel spread on his lap, his head tilted as if he’d stayed up all night doing homework and then had to face classical Chinese first thing in the morning. The moment the teacher started speaking, he was out like a light.

Yan Mu couldn’t help but smile wryly.

Some things never change.

He didn’t move, letting Jiang Zhihuo lean on him.

They were so close that only he could catch the faint scent of pheromones wafting to his nose.

The scent was light and sweet, reminiscent of alcohol.

Yan Mu slowly turned his head.

He didn’t dare move too much. From this angle, he could only see half of Jiang Zhihuo’s face. His eyelashes were long, and only up close could one see the slight upward curl at the tips. When his eyes were closed, the corners turned down slightly, giving him a look that was both obedient and proud.

His features were like a painting, resting on Yan Mu’s shoulder, and suddenly, the book in Yan Mu’s hand seemed completely uninteresting.

Jiang Zhihuo’s long lashes fluttered slightly, and he groggily opened his eyes.

Falling asleep while reading was more like a light doze, not true sleep. It was that foggy feeling of mental exhaustion.

As a kid, whenever he didn’t understand the text, the awkward translated style made him sleepy. Over time, the repeated naps became a conditioned reflex. Now, whenever he picked up a new classic, he had to nap two or three times first.

This behavior was likely a form of ritual.

“Where was I?” Jiang Zhihuo mumbled, a little dazed.

Only after asking did he remember—probably no one would answer him.

Over the years, he had kept up his reading habit. In the beginning, Li-ge would accompany him, covering him with a blanket when he dozed off. Later, as Li-ge started competing in various events, he was left alone. It was honestly torturous to make a naturally science-and-engineering-brained guy like Li-ge sit and read classics with him.

Every time he forgot the plot or the page number, he could only slowly flip through to find it himself.

It wasn’t anything serious, but occasionally he did miss the days when someone would help him immediately.

Unexpectedly, Yan Mu’s voice came through his ear. “Page twenty-three.”

Getting an answer he hadn’t expected, Jiang Zhihuo didn’t react immediately. After a pause, he murmured, “Really?”

The library was unusually quiet. The two sat close together, their breathing soft and audible.

Occasionally, someone passed by to grab a book, but seeing two people sitting by the shelves wasn’t surprising. Everyone kept their voices low, whispering to each other.

In the calm and silence, time felt both long and short, swirling like a breeze and passing through their backs.

Twenty minutes later, Jiang Zhihuo grew sleepy again. His eyelids slowly drooped, and his head suddenly tilted forward.

This time, the movement was too abrupt, waking him up instantly.

Usually, it wouldn’t matter if he was alone, but today, with Yan-ge beside him, Jiang Zhihuo rubbed his eyes awkwardly and took a sip of the water Yan Mu handed over.

Talking wasn’t convenient in the library, and whispering felt sticky and muffled. So Yan Mu sent Jiang Zhihuo a message, signaling him to check WeChat.

Jiang Zhihuo turned on his phone screen.

Yan Mu: Do you come here often?

Jiang Zhihuo yawned and typed: So-so, once every two or three weeks.

He hit send, then typed a second line: Mainly for the atmosphere. I won’t actually fall asleep here. If I go home and lie on my bed, I could sleep the whole day.

Yan Mu: I thought you didn’t like reading.

Jiang Zhihuo: I don’t. It makes me sleepy as soon as I start. How could I love it?

Jiang Zhihuo: But people need knowledge, right? The bigger your worldview, the farther you can see.

Jiang Zhihuo: Even if I do fall asleep, some things will stick in my mind.

Yan Mu: Philosopher.

Yan Mu: Your ‘bad student’ persona is falling apart.

Yan Mu: Are you Jiang Zhihuo or Jiang Zhou?

Wow! He actually brought that up.

That whole nonsense about a second personality was still being used against him.

Jiang Zhihuo lightly bumped Yan Mu’s shoulder with his fist, sent an eye-roll emoji, and continued typing.

Jiang Zhihuo: I didn’t say that; it was…

He habitually typed out the old phrase, even though he hadn’t used it in years. It was ingrained in his mind, a habit.

He deleted the phrase ‘our family’s two professors.’

Jiang Zhihuo: It was two professors of Chinese linguistics who told me that.

Jiang Zhihuo sat cross-legged, bent over, and after sending the message, tucked his phone into his pocket. He leaned closer to Yan Mu’s ear, pointed at the book, and whispered, “I’m continuing. If I fall asleep, wake me up in fifteen minutes.”

Yan Mu softly responded, “Mhm.”

The two professors of Chinese linguistics could only refer to Father Yun and Mother Yun.

Why call them that?

What had happened back then? Why was Yun Zhou sent away?

And why did he become Jiang Zhihuo?

There were so many things he wanted to ask but couldn’t. He didn’t know if Jiang Zhihuo was willing to talk about it.

Yan Mu let out a barely audible sigh.

Take it slow.

Time passed quickly as they read. Once Jiang Zhihuo got past the initial drowsy phase, he didn’t fall asleep again. By the time they realized it was time to eat, the sky had already darkened.

Being in the library together wasn’t boring at all. Even without speaking, sitting shoulder to shoulder in quiet brought them closer than any other activity.

Yan Mu also enjoyed the feeling of sharing the same space with only the two of them.

The deep autumn night fell early, with the full moon tinting a patch of sky a soft gray-white.

Jiang Zhihuo asked the timeless question as they exited the Provincial Library. “What should we eat tonight?”

“Three choices.” The God of Learning Yan had calculated distance, transportation, and value and seriously laid out three restaurant options for Jiang Zhihuo.

“Pfft.” Jiang Zhihuo pressed his fist against his lips.

Even though he’d already experienced the crushing logic of Yan-ge’s date-planning mind map once before, when Yan Mu seriously laid out the reasons for these three restaurants again, Jiang Zhihuo couldn’t help laughing.

Yan Mu: “……” Whatever!!

He put on a straight face and walked ahead.

“Don’t go, don’t go… hahahaha!” Jiang Zhihuo laughed as he caught up.

Yan Mu wasn’t truly angry, so after taking a few large steps, he slowed down to wait for Jiang Zhihuo.

However, just as he was halfway there, Jiang Zhihuo suddenly stopped, clutching his stomach and squatting down.

Yan Mu quickly turned back, holding his shoulder and asking, “What’s wrong?”

Jiang Zhihuo shook his head.

His lower abdomen experienced a sudden sharp pain, akin to a twist. If he hadn’t squatted down, he probably would have stumbled.

However, the pain lasted only a few seconds and was likely just a cramp. Once it passed, Jiang Zhihuo bounced back up, waving his hand. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing.”

Then, he looked at Yan Mu and gave a mischievous grin.

As he squatted down, a new idea popped into his head.

Yan-ge was rational and methodical—he even made a mind map for outings.

And his role was to break that rationality. After all, he was the only one who could make Yan Mu lose his composure, scowl, and argue.

Jiang Zhihuo: “Hehe.”

Yan Mu: “……”

Only from that look, Yan Mu knew Jiang Zhihuo had come up with something new and it definitely wasn’t on the mind map.

Sure enough, Jiang Zhihuo giggled. “We just had hotpot for lunch. I don’t feel like going anywhere. How about we go to your place and you cook me some noodles?”

• 1
  [T/N: I don’t remember exactly how I translated their field last time, but I’ll check it later. The correct translation should be this.]