Chapter 25 – A Small Gathering and Minor Preparations

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133

After finishing their Japanese class, He Fei and Xiang Lei were about to grab a bite to eat when Shi Zhuo called, inviting Xiang Lei out for drinks. Xiang Lei suggested they go to his rented place instead and cook a meal themselves. Shi Zhuo readily agreed. When Xiang Lei asked how many people were coming, Shi Zhuo said it would be him, Yang Lin, and Chen Taoguang.

Naturally, He Fei tagged along.

On the way, He Fei received a call from Zhang Wenwen.

“Are you home yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Can you come with me to the printing center to pick up some stuff? It’s for the club, and I can’t find anyone else to help.”

“I’m with some classmates right now, and we’ve got something going on. How about tomorrow?”

“Sure. It’s not urgent anyway.”

“Alright, bye.”

He Fei hung up after just three short sentences. Xiang Lei couldn’t help but glance over.

“Zhang Wenwen?” Xiang Lei asked.

“Good ears.”

“Why didn’t you invite her to join us?” Xiang Lei pressed.

“Damn, you’re nosy… She’s busy with her club stuff.”

He Fei sounded impatient. Whenever He Fei couldn’t explain something properly and didn’t want to dwell on the necessary explanations, he’d get like this. His mood was no different from when he’d attended that BBS gathering last year—He Fei simply didn’t want to be around both of them at the same time. He couldn’t articulate the reason.

Xiang Lei bought a lot of groceries downstairs, and He Fei carried all the bags himself. When Xiang Lei reached for one after paying, He Fei deftly dodged him. Xiang Lei gave him a puzzled look but didn’t insist. He Fei realized his actions were instinctive, as if the person beside him were Zhang Wenwen.

Everyone pitched in, and the tiny kitchen was soon packed with people bumping into each other—and naturally, it quickly turned into a mess. Someone was looking for a kitchen knife, another for a spatula, someone asked Xiang Lei where the seasonings were, and someone else couldn’t figure out how to light the stove.

He Fei claimed he could only fry eggs. When everyone saw the half-bottle of oil he poured into the pan, they exclaimed that he wasn’t frying eggs but deep-frying them. He Fei, however, thought he did a great job—one egg filled nearly half a bowl, which gave him a real sense of accomplishment.

Yang Lin asked He Fei why he hadn’t invited Wenwen along. He Fei casually replied, “Couldn’t find her.” As He Fei turned to scoop the next egg out of the oil, he caught Xiang Lei’s bewildered expression. He Fei didn’t have time to dwell on it, too busy dealing with the mess in front of him—the oil was too hot, and smoke was billowing everywhere.

Finally, they managed to prepare a few dishes. Everyone drank, though it wasn’t clear what there was to celebrate. Regardless, they all had a great time and soon got tipsy.

That Chen Taoguang became a chatterbox every time he drank. He said gatherings like this were meaningful because they made everyone feel close. His tongue seemed disconnected from his brain, and the things he said should have been cringeworthy but ended up sounding hilarious instead. Yang Lin giggled nonstop. He Fei told him, “Alright, bro, we get it. No need to spell it all out.”

When the dishes were cleared, Xiang Lei went to the kitchen to cook a few more.

When the liquor ran out, Shi Zhuo went downstairs to buy more, and Yang Lin followed.

The cigarettes were gone too, so He Fei went to buy a pack.

As He Fei passed the kitchen, he saw Xiang Lei clumsily chopping vegetables while laughing to himself. He Fei thought, Damn, he must be feeling really happy right now.

The thought warmed He Fei’s heart, and he found himself whistling as he went downstairs.

When He Fei returned, he saw Chen Taoguang standing way too close behind Xiang Lei. As Xiang Lei moved around, Chen Taoguang followed, murmuring something incessantly. Xiang Lei listened carefully while working, occasionally responding with a laugh.

Is this guy too?

He Fei only needed one glance before he couldn’t bear to watch anymore. He walked into the room alone, filled with an inexplicable irritation. Before this, He Fei had simply felt no connection with Chen Taoguang—but from this moment on, He Fei started to loathe him. Whether Xiang Lei saw him as a brother or something else, He Fei didn’t like it.

When Xiang Lei saw Shi Zhuo bringing back two bottles of Erguotou, he was startled. Yang Lin, trailing behind, told Xiang Lei, “Ignore him, this guy’s lost it! He couldn’t find any nearby, so he ran all the way across from the school!”

He Fei wasn’t usually one to compete in drinking games, but right then, he really wanted to mess with Chen Taoguang. So he took the liquor from Shi Zhuo, slapped Chen Taoguang on the shoulder, and said, “Brother, let’s have a proper few rounds!” Chen Taoguang agreed readily, but he was already too drunk to think straight, giving He Fei an easy time. He Fei got him so wasted his eyes could barely stay open. By then, He Fei himself was about 70-80% drunk.

Shi Zhuo, as usual, remained clear-headed despite drinking a lot. Seeing Chen Taoguang’s state, he called it a night. He Fei, still riding the high, refused to stop—until Xiang Lei gave him a look, and He Fei relented.

“Looks like he won’t make it back. Xiang Lei, why don’t you let this rascal crash at your place tonight?” Shi Zhuo suggested.

He Fei immediately checked Xiang Lei’s expression and noticed a subtle reluctance that others might miss. He Fei was delighted. Knowing Xiang Lei wouldn’t refuse, He Fei spoke up first: “Later, Xiang Lei and I will take him back. We’ll drag him to school if we have to.”

“Cut it out, bro! You’re not much better off yourself. Stop making trouble. The three of you can squeeze in for one night—look, Xiang Lei’s bed is big enough!” Shi Zhuo laughed.

He Fei saw Yang Lin give Shi Zhuo a light shove. Shi Zhuo turned to look at her as if about to ask something.

“I’m fine. Xiang Lei, let’s take Chen Taoguang back later,” He Fei said.

“Sure,” Xiang Lei replied with a smile.

And they really did drag Chen Taoguang back to school.

For the first half of the journey, Chen Taoguang mumbled incoherently and managed to take a few steps now and then. But by the second half, he was out cold, even snoring lightly. His legs dragged limply along the ground—if they didn’t pull him, he wouldn’t move; if they didn’t hold him up, he’d collapse onto the street.

He Fei and Xiang Lei didn’t dare stop, afraid they wouldn’t be able to move him again once they did. By the time they finally dumped him onto his dorm bed, their undershirts were soaked through. The moment they stepped out of the dorm, the cold air chilled them to the bone.

“So… I’m heading back!” He Fei said to Xiang Lei.

“Home?” Xiang Lei asked, surprised yet somehow expecting it.

“What do you think?”

“It’s so late… You’re this drunk… and you’re all sweaty…”

“Then where do you think I should go?” He Fei shot back, his eyes bleary, lips curled in a half-smile.

“You could just go back to the dorm. If you go home like this, you’ll definitely get sick tomorrow!”

“You—ugh!” He Fei turned his head away.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but that night, He Fei wanted to stay. What was the big deal about sharing a bed? Compared to the dirty scenarios he imagined, He Fei thought, the sight of Xiang Lei lonely and helpless probably happened more often.

Plus, because He Fei was there, he’d effectively prevented any possibility of Chen Taoguang and Xiang Lei sharing a bed. That alone was worth celebrating. He Fei figured trying to share a bed didn’t require any further preparation.

But Xiang Lei had clearly learned how to protect himself—even if it was just to avoid another awkward situation.

“Oh, right,” Xiang Lei suddenly added, “You can’t shower in the dorm… and the school baths are closed…”

He Fei waited for the rest.

“How about… you go… to Heqing Pool?”

Heqing Pool was a small privately-run bathhouse on the side street near the school’s east gate. Five yuan for a shower, open all night. For an extra ten yuan, you could stay overnight—though you’d likely be approached in the resting area by someone offering cheap “company.”

He Fei let out a mocking laugh and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Xiang Lei called out urgently behind him.

If I answer you, I’m a damn fool! He Fei thought.

But Xiang Lei caught up—his footsteps slow at first, then faster, breaking into a few short sprints as he neared He Fei.

He seemed to hesitate for two seconds before grabbing He Fei’s arm.

“What?” He Fei twisted his neck to glance at his captured arm, then raised his eyes to glare at Xiang Lei, roaring the word.

Xiang Lei still held He Fei’s arm, unsure whether to let go or not. His face twisted into something between a laugh and a cry. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out.

“What do you want?” He Fei yelled again, though much quieter this time.

They stared at each other for a few seconds—then Xiang Lei suddenly burst out laughing.

“You’re insane!” He Fei didn’t laugh along, but the anger had already vanished from his face.

“No relapse yet. Should be fine now,” Xiang Lei said. “If Your Excellency doesn’t mind, you’re welcome to rest at my humble abode.”

He Fei gave a slight shake of his head and finally laughed too.

He Fei knew it wasn’t because of Xiang Lei’s rare attempt at humor.

Stars rarely dotted Beijing’s night sky, but without moonlight to compete, they seemed livelier than usual.

The two walked side by side, about a meter apart, making their way home on foot.

—Wait, was this He Fei’s thought or Xiang Lei’s?

Either way, though they didn’t speak a word the whole way, both were secretly pleased—as if they’d successfully kept the other in the dark.

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134

After showering, He Fei decided to dry off and put on his underwear before returning to the room.

Xiang Lei had already changed the bedsheet and was struggling to put on a new duvet cover. He Fei walked over and grabbed one corner. When Xiang Lei saw He Fei standing there in just his underwear, he quickly averted his eyes. He Fei figured Xiang Lei would’ve blushed from his cheeks down to his neck even if he hadn’t been drinking.

At that moment, He Fei couldn’t help but chuckle. Xiang Lei looked up at him, then tossed down the half-covered duvet and said, “You handle this. I’m going to shower.”

He Fei had wanted to say he couldn’t manage it alone, but seeing how flustered Xiang Lei was, he held back.

The old building’s heating was inadequate, and He Fei soon felt the chill. He haphazardly straightened the blanket and slipped under it.

When Xiang Lei reappeared after his shower, he was carrying a sweater and sweatpants, wearing only his thermal underwear.

“Why the hell are you so shy?” He Fei couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s not that—I’m cold,” Xiang Lei replied before turning off the bedroom light.

He Fei sensed that Xiang Lei had prepared himself thoroughly before cautiously making his way to the bed.

When he lifted the blanket, he must have noticed the tangled corner He Fei hadn’t fixed. He shook it out carefully before climbing in.

As he settled under the covers, his shoulder and right leg accidentally brushed against He Fei’s, and he immediately jerked away.

So it wasn’t He Fei who was worried about being taken advantage of—it was Xiang Lei.

He Fei chuckled again. Finally, Xiang Lei couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you keep laughing?”

“Why are you wearing so much to sleep?” He Fei shot back.

“I always do,” Xiang Lei said.

After the shower, it seemed like most of the alcohol had worn off.

He Fei suddenly thought of Chen Taoguang and turned to face Xiang Lei. “Hey, tell me—is that guy Chen Taoguang also…?”

“Also what?” Xiang Lei lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“You know what I mean. Is he?”

“Is he what?”

“Damn it! Gay! What else would I be asking?” For some reason, He Fei didn’t want to say the English word.

Xiang Lei clearly noticed. “You used to say that word every day, didn’t you?”

“Fuck! Just tell me—is he or not?”

“How should I know? I don’t have a clue!”

“Then what was he whispering to you so mysteriously after we all went downstairs?”

“Nothing much!”

“Bullshit! He must’ve said something—even if it was just asking if you needed help or whatever!”

“He really didn’t say anything.”

“You little—” In a fit of frustration, He Fei suddenly propped himself up, twisted halfway, and playfully grabbed Xiang Lei’s neck with both hands—just like the harmless roughhousing they’d done back in freshman year.

This time, though, Xiang Lei didn’t resist at all. Instead, he reached up, resting his hands on He Fei’s shoulders. Slowly, his hands moved until they met, then clasped together, wrapping his arms around He Fei’s back.

The once-dominant He Fei was instantly defeated.

He Fei froze for two or three seconds, unsure why he was so flustered, then rolled back onto his side. As he moved, Xiang Lei’s arms naturally slipped away without any resistance.

A long silence followed. Neither of them could possibly fall asleep like this.

He Fei lay flat on his back. The quieter the room became, the softer Xiang Lei’s breathing sounded.

At first, the only noise was the breathing of the person beside him, faintly accompanied by the irregular rhythm of a heartbeat. Then came the rustling of fabric as that person turned toward him.

His hand trembled slightly as it ventured forward—starting at the cheek, moving down the neck, across the chest, then lower to the abdomen, finally resting on the dormant landscape below.

The scene felt familiar. It was only after He Fei was certain the person would never do this again that the memory became painfully clear.

Though the darkness provided cover, though the night could blind him into pretending time hadn’t passed, He Fei closed his eyes out of caution. Yet the blackness behind his eyelids seemed pierced by blinding white light, so he squeezed them even tighter.

The warm hand retraced its path like a gentle current cascading down from the peak, pausing briefly at the base before breaching a barrier and disappearing into the forest.

He Fei’s body shuddered slightly. He thought things would naturally progress from there, but for some reason, the woods remained undisturbed despite the warmth passing through.

Another hand joined the invasion. He Fei’s right hand was guided to another plain, then toward a second peak. The moment it settled on that unmistakably awakened summit, He Fei instinctively pulled his hand back—and in doing so, cut off the warm current exploring his own terrain.

The night plunged back into terrifying silence.

“Damn…” He Fei murmured, unaccustomed to the quiet. “I really don’t get it. Why crave something someone else has when you’ve got the same thing yourself…”

No response.

“Hey.” He Fei nudged the person beside him with his elbow. “Just… be my good brother, okay?”

Still no reply.

“Stop looking for those people, alright?” He Fei turned onto his side, facing the other. “If you feel like it’s not enough, you can always do this…” He took Xiang Lei’s hand and placed it back on that dormant peak. “But what’s the point?”

The moment He Fei let go, Xiang Lei’s hand dropped limply to the bed.

“People like that will only hurt you sooner or later.”

After a pause, He Fei cupped Xiang Lei’s face and planted a kiss where he guessed his forehead should be.

“Let’s sleep,” He Fei said, adjusting his position. After closing his eyes, he draped an arm over Xiang Lei’s waist.

“Being brothers… is fine,” Xiang Lei suddenly spoke, his voice barely audible. “But I can’t use a girl as a shield. If I stop seeing those people, can you promise never to be with a girl again?”

“Shit!” He Fei hadn’t expected this. “Is that your condition?”

“It’s not a condition! I know you can’t do it. And I’m just… an ordinary person too.”

“No one can hurt me—I can guarantee that. Can you?”

“If I find someone who won’t hurt me, then it’s guaranteed…”

He Fei let out a derisive laugh, almost regretting the kiss he’d just given.

Whenever Xiang Lei dug in his heels, He Fei struggled to control his emotions. He even considered getting dressed and leaving.

“Fine, keep looking then!” He Fei flipped onto his other side with exaggerated force, turning his back to Xiang Lei as if to sleep.

“I drank too much… lost control of myself. Don’t… take it to heart,” Xiang Lei said.

He Fei sat bolt upright. For some reason, those words ignited a sudden rage in him, as if he’d been played for a fool—only for the other to mockingly say, I was just messing with you!

“Turn on the light!” He Fei growled.

“What’s wrong?” Xiang Lei sat up too.

“Turn on the damn light—I’m leaving!” He Fei raised his voice.

“Where to?”

“Doesn’t matter! I don’t wanna sleep here with you!”

Silence. He Fei wanted to keep snarling, but no words came out.

How could he explain his anger? How?

The kid wasn’t saying a word now. What was he thinking?

“What are you doing?” He Fei finally asked, his voice unexpectedly soft.

“I was thinking about Xiao B. Wondering what would’ve happened between him and Xiao A if he hadn’t emigrated.”

“He didn’t emigrate…” He Fei suddenly felt drained and slumped against the headboard.

“Then he—”

“He’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Sometimes… you’re a lot like him, you know.”

“He’s… gone?”

“Yeah. Just like the ending of your story… gone.”

No matter what, He Fei couldn’t bring himself to say the word “dead.”

Another long silence. In moments like these, the thick night air grew even colder.

He Fei couldn’t bear to finish telling Bittersweet Romance—not just because he didn’t want Xiang Lei to find it cruel, but because he couldn’t stand reducing those deeply personal memories to some clichéd, melodramatic fiction. How he wished it were just a story he’d read somewhere—one with an ending so overused it had lost all meaning.

How could Xiao Er have ever had the chance to emigrate? His birth mother and stepfather had nearly bankrupted themselves for him. His stepsister had to drop out of high school because they couldn’t afford it. Yet in the end, he was still tormented mercilessly by that relentless nephritic demon. In the end… he was still gone.

For months afterward, his mother was barely coherent. One day, while crossing the street to the market, she stood frozen on the curb until the traffic light turned from green to red before stepping forward. A few seconds later, maybe she found Xiao Er again.

Many scenes had long been piled up in He Fei’s mind, often surfacing vividly at unexpected moments.

He Fei crouched by the hospital bed, Xiao Er lying there, gripping He Fei’s hand tightly, his face full of terror as he said, “Brother, I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”

He Fei crouched by the hospital bed, Xiao Er lying there, clutching his hand with an almost pleading tone, “Brother, can you… kiss me once?”

He Fei crouched by the hospital bed, Xiao Er lying there, smiling foolishly as he said, “Brother, I’ve thought it through now. If I live, you probably wouldn’t kiss me like this anymore…”

Tears streamed uncontrollably down He Fei’s face as he struggled to keep his voice steady. “Idiot! How do you know I wouldn’t? How do you know?”

If possible, He Fei would have kissed him endlessly.

It was just pressing one’s lips against another’s—who made rules about whose lips could touch whose?

But Xiao Er was really gone. A living, breathing person, just like that—gone.

Once, He Fei dreamed of Xiao Er. The two of them were walking and chatting in the alley by Houhai, even greeting a passing schoolmate. When He Fei woke up, he was so unwilling to let go of the dream that he actually wanted to find that schoolmate and ask if they had really seen him with Xiao Er.

They say that dreams reflect one’s thoughts. To dream of Xiao Er, He Fei would replay their memories every night before bed—happy and unhappy moments alike, frame by frame, like a movie. But that was all nonsense! He Fei thought of Xiao Er obsessively, day and night, yet he never dreamed of him again.

He Fei sat up, turned on the bedside lamp, and leaned against the headboard, sobbing quietly.

His grandfather, passing by his room, pushed the door open and asked softly what was wrong. He Fei said his Xiao Er was gone, that he would never see him again, not even in dreams.

He Fei told his grandfather that he had wanted to spend his whole life with Xiao Er, never expecting Xiao Er’s life to be so short.

He Fei told his grandfather that Xiao Er meant more to him than any girlfriend ever had, but Xiao Er probably never believed it, even in death.

His grandfather hugged the eighteen-year-old He Fei as if he were still seven or eight, patting his back gently and murmuring, “He can hear you now. He believes you.”

Just as He Fei had expected, the truth was as cruel to Xiang Lei as it was to him. For a long time, Xiang Lei made no sound. He must have been staring at He Fei through the darkness with an expression of deep disbelief. He Fei had lied too many times—his skepticism was only natural.

“Some people mistake the person in front of them for someone else at certain moments,” Xiang Lei said slowly. “But I’m different. Sometimes, I mistake myself for someone in another person’s memories.”

He Fei felt tears welling up, though the moment didn’t seem particularly emotional. Without thinking, he reached out, found Xiang Lei’s shoulder, and pulled him close. His nose prickled with unshed tears.

“For a long time, I couldn’t accept it—why did it have to be him?”

He Fei got out of bed, fumbled for the cigarettes in his pocket, and lit one. Xiang Lei said, “Give me one too,” so He Fei passed him the lit cigarette.

In the flickering glow of the cigarette, He Fei studied Xiang Lei’s face, only to realize it felt less familiar than the version he imagined in the dark. Xiang Lei mimicked He Fei, leaning against the headboard, and just before he settled in, He Fei—out of habit—draped an arm behind his neck.

If anything, the thick darkness had a way of purifying thoughts, making them clearer.

“I feel like my body and mind are split,” He Fei said. “I really like you—saying it out loud feels disgusting—but physically, I just can’t. Honestly, I wish I were gay too.”

Xiang Lei chuckled, leaned over He Fei, and flicked ash onto the floor.

“You like… what do you like about me? That I sometimes remind you of Xiao B?”

“Dunno. But the things I said to you online before weren’t just casual words. Sometimes you seem really stupid, but in a cute way. You don’t scheme against anyone—even someone like Zheng Dongming, you’d still consider his feelings. It pisses me off! Even when I’m most annoyed by how stubborn you are, seeing that stubbornness still feels kind of amusing.”

“I’ve got plenty of schemes—you just haven’t noticed,” Xiang Lei retorted dismissively.

“Yeah, right. You?”

Xiang Lei shifted slightly, removing He Fei’s arm from behind his neck. “It’ll go numb,” he said.

“See? You’re always thinking about others too easily,” He Fei said, stubbornly putting his arm back.

“See? Others think I’m considerate, but really, I’m just looking out for myself—my neck was uncomfortable!”

He Fei couldn’t help but laugh, then pinched Xiang Lei’s ear.

“That novel of yours really screwed me up. For a while, I was obsessed, my head full of those characters. Sometimes walking down the street, I’d think passersby looked like people from your story. After I printed it out, my mom saw it and asked why. I told her Xiao Er wrote it before he died, so she didn’t press further.”

“Huh?” Xiang Lei turned his head, staring at He Fei in surprise through the dim glow of the cigarette.

“If I were gay, things would be so much easier. No one in my family could stop me. Plus, my mom doesn’t believe her son could be into that. Once, I mentioned Xiao Er’s feelings for me, and she just said, ‘What do a couple of kids know about love?’ She never told me to stay away from him. When Xiao Er visited, she treated him like half her a son.”

“What about your dad?”

“My dad’s even less of a worry. He’s just like my grandpa—never forces his opinions on others, whether he agrees or not.”

“With a family like that, it’s a shame you’re not gay,” Xiang Lei said, laughing at himself.

“If I really changed, would you dare come to my house and face the music?”

“Fuck off!” Xiang Lei tossed his cigarette butt on the floor, rubbed his shoulders, and burrowed under the blanket.

By then, He Fei felt the chill too and slid under the covers.

He tried to slip his arm under Xiang Lei’s neck, but Xiang Lei deliberately hunched his shoulders, tucking his head in. He Fei stubbed out his cigarette and forcibly pried Xiang Lei’s head back.

“Was the stuff in your novel real or made up?” He Fei asked.

“How could I make all that up? Though a lot of it didn’t actually happen. The emotions were real, the characters weren’t imagined—just some fabricated events and an ending I pieced together.”

“Does that guy… still have feelings for you?”

“Never did. The emotions were exaggerated—wishful thinking, I guess.” Xiang Lei’s voice carried a trace of disappointment.

“That’s what I thought!”

“What?”

“Just count how many guys you’ve been with!”

“You only know a fraction of it!”

“The guy from Polytechnic U., that sissy one from our school, the one from Shanghai, the one from Xi’an—”

“Hold on! The Xi’an guy was my high school classmate! The Shanghai friend—nothing could’ve happened between us.”

“Then there’s the one who showed up before New Year’s and disappeared soon after! And you weren’t exactly innocent with that guy who dropped out, were you?”

“There was also a soldier. You don’t know half of it.”

“Damn!” He Fei exclaimed.

“Honestly… I miss him sometimes.”

“If you were a girl, you’d be a total flirt!”

“Ha! Maybe a prostitute who doesn’t charge when she’s in a good mood.”

“Fuck! You really have no shame, do you?”

“If life were like fiction, where I could control the plot, none of these people would’ve crossed my path.”

Xiang Lei’s voice was full of bitterness. He Fei suddenly felt the same.

If Xiao Er were still here, would the person lying beside him now, head on his arm, be Xiang Lei at all? He Fei fell into an inexplicable train of thought: Were those painful memories carved into him so he could meet Xiang Lei later? Or was this moment just another way for those memories to linger?

“What are you thinking about?” Xiang Lei asked, shifting his neck slightly.

“Huh? Nothing. Oh, right—back when I told you I beat up that guy from Polytechnic U., I thought you’d feel vindicated. But your reaction made more sense than I expected. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be you, would it?”

“What the hell are you talking about? Your way with words is truly something else.”

“Listen, not everyone deserves your kindness. That bastard left early—otherwise, I wouldn’t have let him off, no matter how you reacted! I just couldn’t stand it!”

“Actually… never mind.”

“Don’t leave me hanging. What were you gonna say?” He Fei jostled the arm under Xiang Lei’s neck.

“Actually, that disease… he’s the one who gave it to me. Like a nightmare…”

“Who? The guy from Polytechnic U. or the one after?”

“The one after…”

“Fuck!” He Fei shouted. “And he still had the nerve to say you were the one sleeping around?”

“Probably afraid I’d find out the truth… He couldn’t face the consequences himself, so… he acted.”

“Here’s what we’ll do. This summer, I’ll go back to your hometown with you. Point him out to me—”

“Stop right there!” Xiang Lei let out a strange laugh. “That’s his turf. He’s got a dozen sworn brothers, all tough guys. Even one-on-one, you might not beat him.”

He Fei felt a surge of frustration—not because Xiang Lei doubted his fighting skills, but because this person, whom He Fei considered downright despicable, still seemed to have Xiang Lei’s protection.

Xiang Lei, who could easily get riled up about social issues, seemed incapable of hatred when it came to personal relationships. He Fei wondered if his inner world was twisted.

“One night together, a hundred nights of gratitude, huh? You’re something else!” He Fei said sarcastically.

“Honestly, I can’t bring myself to hate him. Even though I realized in the end he wasn’t the one I was looking for, I still feel like he wasn’t all that bad to me…”

“Fine! You know what? You’re just asking for it!”

“Asking for what?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Who knows what crap you’re about to spew?”

“Asking to get fucked!”

“Fuck off!”

“Am I wrong?”

“Too bad you can’t!”

“Damn!”

Somehow, they finally fell asleep, exhausted.

He Fei rarely dreamed of Xiao Er, but that night, he saw his back in the alley by Houhai again. He chased after him excitedly, calling his name. When Xiao Er turned around, his face was streaked with tears. He Fei didn’t ask why, just pulled him into a tight hug, unwilling to let go.

When he woke up, the room was bathed in golden sunlight. He Fei realized he was practically lying on top of Xiang Lei, a certain part of him uncomfortably stiff.

For the first time, He Fei felt like morning wood was something vaguely indecent.

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135

He Fei rarely did this.

Lying in bed, ready to sleep, he absentmindedly rested a hand on his abdomen—and inevitably remembered the hand that had lingered there days ago.

He Fei realized it had been nearly a year and a half since his last sexual experience. Now, he unconsciously replayed that moment from days ago, imagining that hand still there—like a warm current breaking through a dam, rushing into the woods, stirring up a storm.

He Fei didn’t understand why pure fantasy could feel more intense than the real thing.

At the climax, he deliberately pictured Xiang Lei’s face, still bothered by the thought of his stubble.

The next morning, He Fei planned to sleep in.

On the way to school, he stopped by a mall and bought a Philips electric razor. It wasn’t top-tier, but definitely better than the one Xiang Lei used. During military training, whenever Xiang Lei shaved, someone would joke that his razor sounded like a lawnmower. That was being generous—sometimes, Xiang Lei’s beard would jam the razor, making it stop, and he’d yelp in pain.

In short, He Fei didn’t like Xiang Lei with stubble. And lately, He Fei seemed to care more and more about it.