Chapter 3 – He Fei
by Salted Fish9
“No, you’re staying in the dorm tonight!” The words slipped out before Xiang Lei could stop himself, surprising even him with their coquettish tone. Across from him, He Fei froze for a few seconds before breaking into a complicated smile. “Xiang Lei, you’re fucking weird! Fine, then!”
At least He Fei had added those two words—”fine, then.”
At least there was no third person in the dorm.
At least China’s national football team qualifying for the World Cup was exhilarating enough to overshadow everything else.
The entire dormitory building erupted in celebration! Who cared about the so-called “golden generation”? Who cared if the road ahead was uncertain? Everyone had gone mad, hugging whoever was nearby, jumping up and down, screaming rock songs, praises, and curses. It was just as well—the chaos perfectly masked Xiang Lei’s nervousness and the strangeness he had just displayed in front of He Fei.
Liu Chong raised his arm and declared, “Tonight, we celebrate! My treat!”
Since the dormitory gates closed at 11 p.m., everyone agreed to buy food and drinks and party in the dorm. A group of them rushed out to stock up on alcohol and snacks.
He Fei usually went home every night, so his dorm bed was more of a prop, occasionally used for naps. That day was no exception.
After squeezing into Room 208 to watch the match that secured China’s spot in the 2002 FIFA World Cup, He Fei packed his bag to leave. Xiang Lei asked, “You’re still going home?” He Fei said, “Yeah,” and without thinking, Xiang Lei blurted out, “No, you’re staying in the dorm tonight.”
Watching He Fei drop his backpack onto his bed, Xiang Lei sat on Liu Chong’s lower bunk, suddenly feeling restless.
Since returning to school after military training, Xiang Lei had been spending every day online, searching for friends, cycling through hope and disappointment. Life had been uneventful. Two days earlier, after seeing off the two instructors, He Fei and Xiang Lei, drunk, had staggered past the publicity screen by the basketball court. When Xiang Lei glanced at the screen and saw the group photo of their drill squad, he suddenly felt something strange stirring inside him.
As he turned to look at the photo, Xiang Lei could hear He Fei’s heavy, alcohol-laced breathing and smell the mix of liquor and soap on him. It struck Xiang Lei that He Fei was too close—closer than any other guy in their department, class, or dorm. Close enough to make Xiang Lei instinctively want to get even closer. The thought came and went in an instant, leaving him momentarily lost.
This feeling was familiar.
Years ago, on a spring day, Xiang Lei had somehow ended up at his love rival’s birthday party. Drunk for the first time, he hazily watched as a girl presented the rival with a gift. Without a second thought, Xiang Lei took off the already chipped metal keychain from his own keys and gave it as a gift, feeling no shame. To his surprise, the rival was deeply moved. Seeing that reaction, Xiang Lei’s hostility vanished like a lighter running out of fuel, unable to spark even once.
After the party, the rival helped a thoroughly drunk Xiang Lei home. The afternoon sun warmed their backs as their mismatched footsteps trailed behind their long shadows. Xiang Lei, like a child, playfully tried to step on their shadows, causing both of them to sway. Dizzier by the second, Xiang Lei’s head eventually lolled onto the rival’s shoulder.
In that moment, everything seemed to turn upside down.
It truly happened in an instant. Xiang Lei clearly told himself that he loved this scene, that he wanted it to last forever, with the sun behind them neither too bright nor too dim.
Xiang Lei closed his eyes, drifting into a dreamlike state. Only when he felt himself being placed on a bed, stripped of his clothes and shoes, and tucked in did he struggle to open his eyes, barely making out Pei Yong’s retreating figure. Xiang Lei forced himself up, stumbled across the courtyard, and leaned against the gate, staring blankly as that figure disappeared into the distance at the end of the alley…
Now, Xiang Lei was afraid.
Again, it happened in an instant.
Collapsed back-to-back on the scorching field, a hand reaching around to offer half a bottle of Nongfu Spring1A very famous brand of bottled water in China.
Lying side by side on a narrow bunk, sharing a newspaper, each reading their own half.
Automatically standing on opposite sides of the washroom, pouring basins of water over their heads.
On the bus back to school, knowing the empty seat beside him was reserved for you.
At the dinner table, forming your own little faction, playing drinking games with the two instructors across from you.
These ordinary moments suddenly didn’t seem so simple anymore.
Xiang Lei instinctively twisted away from the arm draped over his shoulder. One such tormenting experience was enough—he was certain that only in the virtual world could he find the kind of mutual love he craved.
The terrifying truth was, the more he resisted, the more he was tempted.
When He Fei said, “Xiang Lei, you’re fucking weird,” Xiang Lei was truly afraid.
Xiang Lei felt useless, even pathetic. Ever since realizing Pei Yong would never love him back, he had been too quick to fantasize about romance with other guys. Sometimes it was just a few online chats, sometimes a particular gesture or scent, sometimes just a face he liked—any of these could send ripples through his heart.
Xiang Lei was beyond saving.
10
The guys returned to the dorm, shouting and laughing, carrying alcohol and food, immediately gathering to drink. When the beer ran out, Liu Chong dashed out to buy a few bottles of liquor.
At this point, Xiang Lei was still the center of attention in their dorm, so everyone wanted to challenge him to drink. Xiang Lei couldn’t possibly handle them all and tried to slip away. He Fei, who had been watching with a cigarette dangling from his lips, suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm as he tried to leave. He Fei must have pulled hard, because Xiang Lei plopped back onto the stool, wincing in pain.
“I really can’t! I’ll puke if I drink more,” Xiang Lei begged, his face pleading.
“Who the hell are you kidding?” He Fei narrowed his eyes. “I know how much you can handle!”
Xiang Lei shot He Fei a look, but He Fei ignored it.
“Cut the crap. I really can’t drink,” Xiang Lei insisted.
“You weren’t acting like this when we were drinking with the instructors!” He Fei smirked.
Xiang Lei turned and glared at He Fei, who should have understood—Xiang Lei wanted him to keep their little secret about the instructors inviting just the two of them out, and definitely didn’t want him exposing how much he’d drunk that night. But He Fei seemed to be in a mischievous mood, ignoring the hint.
Xiang Lei, visibly annoyed, stood up again to leave. Quick as lightning, He Fei grabbed him from behind and yelled, “Guys, get him!”
The others immediately understood, laughing as they swarmed over.
He Fei dragged Xiang Lei onto Liu Chong’s bed while the others pinned him down—some holding his legs, some his arms, someone undoing his belt. Xiang Lei struggled wildly but couldn’t break free. His pants were yanked down, and just as He Fei reached for his underwear, Xiang Lei roared, “Fuck off! I’m pissed!”
Everyone could tell he meant it.
Still smirking, He Fei leaned in. “So? Drinking or not?”
Xiang Lei’s eyes blazed. “Why the hell are you picking on me?”
The rest of them felt awkward for He Fei, but he remained unfazed. “I’m just asking—are you drinking or not?”
“Fine!” Xiang Lei barked.
The guys laughed and returned to the makeshift table. Xiang Lei pulled up his pants, stomped over, and downed half a glass in one gulp without sitting.
“Fuck it! I’m taking you on today!” Xiang Lei snarled, filling He Fei’s glass to the brim before yanking a stool over and sitting down hard.
He Fei grinned. “Bring it.”
At one point, Xiang Lei stood to leave but was stopped by Zheng Dongming. Without a word, Xiang Lei pointed to his bulging cheeks, shoved Zheng Dongming aside, and bolted for the bathroom.
He vomited violently.
As Zheng Dongming patted his back, He Fei walked in and asked how he was. Xiang Lei didn’t answer. He Fei told Zheng Dongming to fetch water and tissues, and once Zheng Dongming left, He Fei kept patting Xiang Lei’s back, asking if he needed to throw up more. Xiang Lei weakly pushed He Fei’s hand away.
“What? You’re really mad?” He Fei chuckled.
“You’re such a fucking traitor!” Xiang Lei spat.
He Fei only laughed harder.
He reached out again, gently patting Xiang Lei’s back. “Alright, I’m a traitor. My bad.”
This time, Xiang Lei didn’t push him away.
11
Xiang Lei quietly resolved to distance himself from He Fei.
It should have been easy—He Fei and Zhou Yunzhi, both locals, treated college like high school, rarely staying overnight in the dorm. Xiang Lei increased his time online, heading straight to the computer lab or internet café after class. He kept searching for friends but found no leads. Frustrated, he started going to the library.
Not to study, though. On a whim, inspired by online gay fiction, he began writing a story based on his high school experiences. In this tale where he controlled the narrative, Xiang Lei finally got to have the perfect romance with Pei Yong.
The process brought him a fleeting sense of fulfillment, but as he neared the end, despair crept in. He spent a day agonizing over the conclusion, only to fall into the same cliché as every other gay story he’d read—forcing his characters into a tragic separation.
As if only through death could the two figures carrying his fantasies become unforgettable.
As if their lives had to be short to have a satisfying ending.
12
He Fei and Zhou Yunzhi usually didn’t go straight home after school but returned to the dorm to mess around or gather a few guys for basketball. He Fei rarely saw Xiang Lei in the dorm, and when he did, Xiang Lei would barely nod before changing clothes and leaving.
“What’s keeping you so busy? Come play ball!” He Fei blocked Xiang Lei’s path.
“I suck at it, and I don’t like it. I’m going online.” Xiang Lei tried to sidestep him.
He Fei shifted to block him again. “What’s so fun online? At least get more guys for CS2An abbreviation for Counter-Strike, a multiplayer first-person shooter.! Come watch me play—see how awesome I am.” He reached for Xiang Lei’s arm.
Xiang Lei shook him off. “I don’t play CS. I’m chatting. Friends are waiting.”
He pushed past He Fei and hurried out.
He Fei watched him go, muttering, “Fuck.”
Everyone knew He Fei and Xiang Lei had grown close as drill squad “comrades,” but after National Day, Xiang Lei inexplicably started avoiding him. He Fei invited him to basketball—Xiang Lei declined. He Fei offered to join him online—Xiang Lei changed his mind about going. He Fei saved him a seat twice—Xiang Lei never showed. He Fei grumbled to the others that Xiang Lei was being petty, probably over that “you’re fucking weird” comment.
He Fei should have been relieved—when Xiang Lei later came out, no one distanced themselves too much or got too close. By then, everyone had forgotten He Fei’s complaints from ten days earlier.
“Hey! Gay3Originally in English, so he’s pronouncing it in English!” He Fei started calling Xiang Lei that, rarely using his name.
He Fei seemed to feel duped, a sentiment everyone picked up on. Xiang Lei didn’t care, quickly getting used to the nickname. Strangely, though, no one else could bring themselves to call him that.
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