Chapter 35 – A Perfect Ending Just for Us

196

After Xiang Lei started attending classes again, he deliberately avoided walking with He Fei every day. He Fei didn’t actually care how others viewed his relationship with Xiang Lei, but since Xiang Lei did, He Fei let him have his way.

Liu Chong told Xiang Lei that his “brother” had called him many times. Xiang Lei thought it over and realized the only person who could call himself his brother was probably Pei Yong. Xiang Lei called Pei Yong and indeed got an earful of scolding.

After much hesitation, Xiang Lei ultimately didn’t tell Pei Yong how he had lost his phone. Because Xiang Lei knew that Pei Yong and Xiao Zhou’s friends probably shared one absolute similarity: they would all ultimately trace the incident back to one fundamental reason—because you’re gay.

Pei Yong mailed his old phone to Xiang Lei. When He Fei found out, he felt somewhat uncomfortable. He Fei had originally planned to give Xiang Lei a phone for his birthday, only to realize he didn’t even remember when Xiang Lei’s birthday was. He Fei asked Wei Tong, who told him, “Xiang Lei’s birthday already passed while you two were still in a cold war.”

Then, Wei Tong accidentally mentioned Xiao Zhou, and He Fei immediately got agitated. Seeing He Fei’s reaction, Wei Tong realized his slip-up.

Wei Tong said that about four or five days after the incident—when Xiang Lei still hadn’t returned to school—Xiao Zhou had stopped Wei Tong on campus.

Xiao Zhou told Wei Tong that he had been confined at home by his brother and had only managed to sneak out with great difficulty. He had come to the school specifically to find Xiang Lei but had no idea where to start looking. Wei Tong did his best to persuade Xiao Zhou to go home, then later told Xiang Lei, who instructed Wei Tong to keep it from He Fei.

Wei Tong shrugged in the end. “He’s gone. The kid did leave me his phone number, but Xiang Lei deleted it the same day. Just let it go, He Fei.”

He Fei couldn’t help but curse a few times, but upon reflection, even if they found that kid Xiao Zhou, what could they do? It didn’t seem like he had intended for Xiang Lei to get beaten up.

If you had to blame someone, blame Xiang Lei for being unlucky—always stumbling into trouble.

197

On Friday night, Xiang Lei told He Fei that Shi Zhuo was coming over to drink with them, so He Fei didn’t go home.

They ordered a few dishes from a nearby shop, bought a case of beer, two bottles of liquor, and some juice, then laid out several layers of newspaper on the bedroom floor as a makeshift table. Sitting cross-legged in a circle, they found it surprisingly enjoyable.

When Zhang Wenwen walked in arm-in-arm with Yang Lin, both He Fei and Xiang Lei froze for a moment—just long enough for Zhang Wenwen to notice. Smiling yet pouting, she said, “What? Not happy to see me?”

Xiang Lei quickly replied, “Of course we’re happy!” He Fei hastily echoed the sentiment.

Without needing to be told, Zhang Wenwen was the first to step into the bedroom after taking off her shoes. Yang Lin followed suit. Shi Zhuo scratched his head awkwardly and said, “We have to take off our shoes? My feet stink.”

He Fei punched Shi Zhuo’s shoulder. “Fuck! Who cares? No guy’s feet smell good! This is all Xiang Lei’s stupid idea! I keep forgetting and walking in with my shoes on, then have to wipe the floor afterward!”

Yang Lin turned and smiled. “It’s fine. Lao Shi, you’d better go wash your stinky feet before coming in.”

“No need,” Xiang Lei said.

Zhang Wenwen walked through the bedroom to the balcony, looking around while murmuring, “This is really nice.”

Everyone had clearly overestimated their tolerance. The moment Shi Zhuo stepped inside, the smell of his feet filled the entire room. Even He Fei said, “Dude, go wash your feet.”

Xiang Lei adjusted the hot water, found slippers, pointed out the towel, and sprayed air freshener all over the bedroom. He even sprayed some into Shi Zhuo’s sneakers and sealed them in a plastic bag.

The background music was still the U2 CD Xiang Lei had bought. Zhang Wenwen said, “Isn’t this too loud? I just bought a new set of CDs—they’re still in my bag. I’ll change it.” Without waiting for a response, she swapped the CD. Unsurprisingly, it was Faye Wong—a four-disc greatest hits collection. Such a lavish release was probably pirated.

As if by unspoken agreement, Shi Zhuo let Xiang Lei do as he pleased and focused on drinking games with He Fei. Shi Zhuo drank liquor, He Fei drank beer. If Shi Zhuo lost, he had to drink a quarter of a paper cup of liquor; if He Fei lost, he had to drink a full cup of beer. Shi Zhuo didn’t cheat, but He Fei often tried to pull tricks—yet He Fei still couldn’t outdrink Shi Zhuo.

The girls occasionally chimed in with comments, while Xiang Lei sat silently on the side, smiling without saying much.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor for too long became uncomfortable, so everyone kept shifting positions. He Fei, probably already tipsy, stretched his legs a few times and nearly stuck his feet into the food.

Zhang Wenwen suddenly asked Xiang Lei, “Xiang Lei, have you read ‘Love of the Green Mountains¹Tells the story of a gay romance between a university student and a soldier.‘?”

Xiang Lei shook his head.

Zhang Wenwen asked again, “What about ‘Hui Zi’²Named after its protagonist. Known for its gritty realism and tragic ending. It tells the story of the struggles faced by a gay man in a society that doesn’t accept him, dealing with themes of poverty, social alienation, and identity.?”

Xiang Lei still shook his head.

Zhang Wenwen pressed on, “Then you must have read ‘Beijing Story’³From a purely translational relationship to love. Power imbalance, societal and familial pressure, and a turbulent relationship.?”

Xiang Lei nodded.

“‘Love of the Green Mountains’ and ‘Hui Zi’ were both written by the author of ‘Beijing Story.’ I cried reading them⁴All three stories have tragic endings.. I’ve read a lot of stories like this lately—apparently many are written by girls. It makes me want to write one myself…”

Xiang Lei didn’t know how to respond and could only offer an awkward smile.

“But I wouldn’t write about you two,” Zhang Wenwen added with a smile.

Xiang Lei couldn’t decipher her smile.

“He Fei mentioned before that you wrote one too. Can I read it?”

Xiang Lei quickly replied, “Of course. I’ll send it to your email another day.”

At this point, He Fei—busy fending off Shi Zhuo—glanced over, first at Zhang Wenwen, then at Xiang Lei. Their eyes met for less than a second before Xiang Lei turned back to Zhang Wenwen and said, “But mine isn’t as well-written as theirs, and the story isn’t as good.”

Zhang Wenwen said it didn’t matter.

Then Shi Zhuo suggested they all play a card game—drawing and guessing high or low. The loser had to drink half a cup of liquor or a full cup of beer. Xiang Lei had to participate, but the girls could drink juice.

Zhang Wenwen was the first to lose. She pouted for a moment, then picked up Xiang Lei’s cup. He Fei said it was alcohol, and Zhang Wenwen replied, “I know. I want to try drinking.” She took a careful sip, grimaced as she swallowed, stuck out her tongue with a pained smile, then downed the whole cup.

What followed was almost unbelievable—Zhang Wenwen and Xiang Lei kept losing in turns. Each time, Zhang Wenwen would whine about her bad luck but never hesitated to drink.

Shi Zhuo suggested that the girls only needed to drink half a cup.

In reality, He Fei only poured a quarter-cup for Zhang Wenwen each time.

When Zhang Wenwen lost, no one gloated. Watching her drink, He Fei felt like someone should snatch the cup from her and drink for her. Yet in the past year, He Fei had never done so—because before their breakup, Zhang Wenwen had never drunk even a drop in front of him.

When only half a bottle of beer remained, Xiang Lei was probably already drunk. After each cup, he had to pause for a long time before moving, as if any sudden motion would make him throw up.

He Fei said they should split the remaining drinks equally, but he still only poured a quarter-cup for Zhang Wenwen. Zhang Wenwen simply took the bottle from He Fei and poured herself more.

He Fei grabbed the bottle and said, “Don’t drink so much.”

Zhang Wenwen didn’t let go. “It’s the last cup. It’s fine.”

So He Fei let her.

Zhang Wenwen filled her cup, raised it with both hands toward Xiang Lei, and said, “Xiang Lei, I wish you happiness.” Then she tipped her head back and downed the entire cup. Before she even finished, tears had already rolled down to her chin. As she set the cup down, her hand dropped limply to the floor, while the other quickly covered her face.

She began to sob quietly.

He Fei circled behind Xiang Lei and sat beside Zhang Wenwen, pulling her into a one-armed hug. He wiped her tears while Yang Lin, on her other side, placed a comforting hand on her trembling shoulder.

Then Zhang Wenwen began to cry openly.

Xiang Lei, witnessing the scene, felt somewhat at a loss, unsure what to say or do. He Fei glanced at him as if to say, “You don’t need to say or do anything.”

The background music was ‘You’re Happy, so I’m Happy.’

At first, Faye Wong’s voice sounded like a murmur, making the sudden drumbeat that followed all the more unexpected. It was like a mood abruptly swelling because of a single moment—whether sorrow, relief, or contentment.

Everyone quietly listened to the song, and even Zhang Wenwen’s crying gradually quieted.

Zhang Wenwen said to Shi Zhuo, “Let’s go.” Shi Zhuo agreed. He Fei said to Zhang Wenwen, “I’ll walk you back.”

Zhang Wenwen neither accepted nor refused. When He Fei saw her to her dormitory, she suddenly hugged him and cried openly again. He Fei didn’t offer any words of comfort—he felt anything he could say would sound insincere.

After pulling away, Zhang Wenwen gave He Fei a brave smile and said, “I believe in you two.”

Hearing this, He Fei felt an inexplicable flutter in his chest—something indescribable.

As he watched Zhang Wenwen disappear around the corner of the dormitory building, He Fei hurried home. At times, he even broke into a run, as if impatient with his own legs.

He just wanted to get back as soon as possible—as if he hadn’t seen the person he was about to see in a few minutes for a very long time, and even a single minute was too much to wait.

198

The room had already been tidied up. Xiang Lei lay on his side on the bed, two pillows stacked under his head. From the moment He Fei pushed open the bedroom door, Xiang Lei’s gaze remained fixed on He Fei’s face, never wavering.

He Fei turned off the ceiling light, switched on the dim bedside lamp, tossed his coat aside, and lay down facing Xiang Lei. The dim lighting made He Fei’s mood grow somewhat hazy again. The CD player emitted a soft blue glow, and Faye Wong’s ethereal voice drifted from the speakers. He Fei stared at Xiang Lei while resting a hand on his body. Xiang Lei suddenly seemed embarrassed, sitting up and heading to the bathroom.

A minute later, a loud thud came from the bathroom. He Fei jumped up and rushed over to find Xiang Lei slumped on the floor, face twisted in pain, one hand clutching his underwear waistband, the other rubbing his back. His pants weren’t fully pulled up, and one leg was soaked.

The scene was actually quite comical, but He Fei couldn’t laugh at all. He hurriedly crouched down, supporting Xiang Lei’s shoulders as he asked, “Are you done?” Xiang Lei nodded, and then He Fei draped one of Xiang Lei’s arms over his own neck and dragged him out of the bathroom.

He was really heavy.

Xiang Lei staggered, his steps scattering the puzzle-like floor mats in the bedroom, but He Fei didn’t bother to fix them.

He Fei placed Xiang Lei by the bed, gently pushed him down, and then reached to pull off his pants. Xiang Lei clutched his waistband tightly, making He Fei both exasperated and amused.

After a moment of laughter, He Fei said, “Relax! I’ll leave your underwear on! Your pants are soaked—you planning to dry them under the covers? Take them off, be good.”

Xiang Lei finally let go, mumbling, “This is so embarrassing.”

He Fei replied softly, “Why would you need to be embarrassed in front of me?”

His voice was so low it felt like he was talking to himself—Xiang Lei was probably too out of it to hear.

Without Xiang Lei’s cooperation, it took some effort for He Fei to yank off his jeans. Just as He Fei was about to lift Xiang Lei’s legs onto the bed, Xiang Lei suddenly sat up and threw his arms around He Fei’s neck. Caught off guard while half-bent over, He Fei heard Xiang Lei burst into tears before he could react.

Between sobs, Xiang Lei said, “You won’t suddenly leave me one day, will you?”

He Fei froze for a second before patting Xiang Lei’s back. “What nonsense are you thinking?”

“Will you?” Xiang Lei pressed, his voice thick with tears.

“No, don’t worry. Stop crying!”

“But I want to cry.”

“No, you don’t. I’ll get mad if you keep crying.”

As He Fei said this, his own heart ached unbearably. If Xiang Lei kept crying like this, He Fei feared he might shed a few tears himself.

Tears were too melodramatic—He Fei didn’t want to mess with them.

He tried to straighten up and settle Xiang Lei properly on the bed, but Xiang Lei clung tightly to his neck, tightening his grip whenever He Fei moved.

After a while, Xiang Lei gradually stopped crying. He Fei, exhausted from holding the awkward position and unable to break free, simply let himself collapse onto the bed alongside Xiang Lei—his upper body on the mattress, his lower half dangling off the edge, his full weight pressing down on Xiang Lei. He Fei was sure Xiang Lei could barely breathe under him, yet somehow, Xiang Lei endured it.

“Be good and lie down properly, okay?” He Fei said.

Xiang Lei finally released him. Only then could He Fei properly see Xiang Lei’s face—streaked with tears. Without thinking, He Fei reached out to wipe them away, but this only made things worse. Fresh tears welled up like a tide, impossible to keep up with. He Fei couldn’t understand—how could another guy have so many tears?

“I said no more crying! I’ll really get mad.” He Fei stared intently at Xiang Lei’s damp face, his tone stern even as he kept wiping.

Xiang Lei bit his lip and nodded. Finally free to adjust, He Fei pulled Xiang Lei fully onto the bed, then lay down facing him, wrapping an arm around his body.

Faye Wong sang: Your face is in my breath, your curves stretch like a shoreline, evolving into the most sorrowful narcissus.

Xiang Lei reached out. His hand glided over He Fei’s forehead before coming to rest on his cheek.

Faye Wong continued: Climbing across your face, never expected such twists, stranded on the left side of your beauty, yet I still venture on.

For the first time, He Fei gazed at Xiang Lei’s face.

For the first time, He Fei stared intently at another guy’s face, studying it closely.

A teardrop the size of a sesame seed clung to Xiang Lei’s lashes. He Fei carefully wiped it away, and only then did Xiang Lei blink.

He Fei decided he liked this song. He got up, set it to repeat, then paused at the desk to open a drawer and pull out the razor he’d once given Xiang Lei.

He rolled Xiang Lei onto his back, knelt over him, and smirked mischievously before leaning down. With his face nearly pressed to Xiang Lei’s chin, He Fei began carefully shaving him, meticulously harvesting the stubble.

Xiang Lei’s throat and jaw twitched. When He Fei glanced up, he saw tears pooling in Xiang Lei’s eyes again. He Fei tilted his head, frowned, then glared and pointed accusingly at Xiang Lei’s nose. Xiang Lei swallowed hard, lips quirking into a silent smile.

He Fei stroked Xiang Lei’s smooth chin approvingly. “Hmm. You look good without stubble. Remember—no more little mustache. It’s ugly.”

Xiang Lei actually laughed this time. “No. I’ll grow it out. When you can’t stand it anymore, you’ll shave it for me. Saves me the trouble.”

“Fuck!” He Fei flipped over and straddled him. “Don’t expect favors twice.”

“Then let it stay ugly. I won’t see it unless I look in a mirror.”

“You asking for a beating?” He Fei mock-strangled him.

“Mhm.”

Damn it! That response left He Fei at a loss. After a moment’s thought, he tickled Xiang Lei’s side experimentally. Xiang Lei reacted strongly, so He Fei grinned wickedly, pinning him down and mercilessly attacking every ticklish spot until Xiang Lei curled up, gasping for breath and begging for mercy.

After the tussle, they lay quietly, listening to Faye Wong’s cryptic lyrics: Best if no one understands what I say, only you get what I mean. Your silence says it all. What? I didn’t say anything…

He Fei asked, “Why the hell do you cry so much?”

Xiang Lei replied, “Dunno. Only when I’m drunk.”

He Fei tugged Xiang Lei’s ear, then suddenly stared at him seriously. “Xiang Lei, teach me how to do… that today.”

“Do what?”

“You know… that.”

“What’s that?”

“Guess.”

“No idea.”

“Fuck! Playing dumb?”

“How would I know what you mean?” Xiang Lei couldn’t suppress a laugh.

He Fei leaned close to Xiang Lei’s ear and whispered, “Fuck.”

Xiang Lei fell silent for a long moment.

When He Fei lifted his head, he was met with Xiang Lei’s blazing eyes.

Those same eyes—just moments ago, clear pools—now burned with fire.

The flames were mere inches away, their heat almost palpable on He Fei’s skin.

“Don’t take it back…” Xiang Lei said.

“I won’t,” He Fei replied. “Don’t you stop halfway…”

“Never again!” With surprising strength, Xiang Lei flipped He Fei onto his back.

He’d somehow regained his energy.

He Fei almost suspected Xiang Lei had been faking his earlier state.

Xiang Lei undid He Fei’s shirt buttons, movements slightly frantic.

His breath came heavy with alcohol.

He peeled off He Fei’s pants.

He Fei instinctively lifted his hips—pure reflex.

His heart was already racing. Even if his body hadn’t fully caught up yet, He Fei knew Xiang Lei would rouse it soon enough.

More than trusting himself, He Fei trusted Xiang Lei.

Xiang Lei reached over and turned off the bedside lamp.

Only the faint blue glow of the CD player remained.

Only outlines of each other were visible.

Xiang Lei slowly crawled closer.

“He Fei… I’m Xiang Lei.”

“I know… I’m at your mercy. Teach me well—and see it through.”

Xiang Lei’s lips met his. He Fei closed his eyes and surrendered to the kiss.

A wet tongue teased its way in, and after a brief hesitation, He Fei reciprocated.

Then Xiang Lei’s kisses trailed downward.

Every inch explored with painstaking care.

A first. The first time anyone had kissed He Fei like this.

Then, arrival in uncharted territory. Everything—sights, sounds, scents, touches, sensations—was new, exhilarating, teasing, electrifying.

His heart pounded, and his body followed suit.

Pride swelled in He Fei.

He almost wanted to shout.

Cupping Xiang Lei’s face, He Fei babbled, “You’re amazing! Leizi! You’re fucking incredible! I’ve never felt anything like this! You’re too good!”

Xiang Lei murmured dreamily, “Do you want… do you want to…”

“What?”

“Do you want to…”

He Fei understood immediately.

The rest required no instruction—He Fei was already well-practiced.

Xiang Lei was drenched in sweat.

He Fei didn’t care.

He Fei scattered kisses—if they could even be called that—over Xiang Lei’s damp forehead, dry lips, and sweaty neck, perfectly channeling the tangled emotions he’d bottled up for so long—both ancient sediment and a whirl of conflicting feelings.

Perfection, at last.

For Xiang Lei. And, of course, for himself.

No one would ever hurt Xiang Lei again. No one would make him sick, or drive him to despair.

Xiang Lei would never self-destruct alone—standing helpless in the rain, enduring beatings without recourse.

He belonged to He Fei now, more rightfully than ever.

Most of those storybook characters had no future. So many lost tomorrows—He Fei was determined to claim them in their stead.

Few in this world could envision their future as clearly as He Fei. Very few.

And that, right now, filled him with pride.

“Xiao Leizi, I’m He Fei…” He Fei murmured against Xiang Lei’s ear.

“No… You’re Xu Menghu,” Xiang Lei corrected.

“Fine, I’m whoever you say. Point is, I’m your man.”

Xiang Lei’s hands slid up He Fei’s slightly damp back, pulling him flush against his body.

Faye Wong continued her tireless, nonsensical singing: Damp sweat, not just a little, is your brow meeting the rainy season? Come, nourish my vast fields. Every expression of yours is a year to me—it’s been so long.

And another line: Bit by bit, sediment builds into my wrinkles, etched by your smile.

As if the distant future had suddenly become within reach.

• 1
  Tells the story of a gay romance between a university student and a soldier.
• 2
  Named after its protagonist. Known for its gritty realism and tragic ending. It tells the story of the struggles faced by a gay man in a society that doesn’t accept him, dealing with themes of poverty, social alienation, and identity.
• 3
  From a purely translational relationship to love. Power imbalance, societal and familial pressure, and a turbulent relationship.
• 4
  All three stories have tragic endings.